#at least i had a full night(!!!!!!) of feeling almost no anxiety. everybody say thanks weed

[silverislander]

gonna be honest 2025 is not gonna be my year. i already know it. i've done the whole "2020/2021/2022/2023/2024 will be my year" and it hasn't been my year even Once. so if i get a nice surprise i'll be happy to take it but i'm not going to set the bar above the ground or anything

[lortsyall]

Echoes of Eywa's Child.

chapter 1.

(Neteyam x Human!Reader series)

Pending....Pending....

Date: December 21st,2174.

Location: Office,Unit 4,Avatar Department,Human Outpost Biolab,Hallelujah Mountains,Pandora.

Time: 10:15 AM.

A long time has passed since I've known about this once alien planet. 4.4 light years away,a world full of life,like a lost paradise,sat idly in silence,away from the death and destruction that has scattered over Earth like a goddamn plague.

The ones before us saw the danger of it all,and yet they turned a blind eye,all because the climate change and the fractures in the atmosphere caused by the heightened levels of carbon dioxide wouldn’t affect them in the long run. They’d be dead anyway by the time it got too serious. So much for doing the right thing.

I wasn’t even born when they discovered Pandora,though until I actually got a grasp of reality and gained consciousness like everybody does at 5 years old,I’ve actually wondered if the so-called “Goldilocks Zone” existed somewhere else. If God smiled upon the universe and gave another planet the privilege of life.

Trust me,I have no idea how I even got here. So much time has passed since I’ve breathed in the polluted air of Earth,but I guess it’s for the benefit of all.

Guess we'll do it like they always do,huh?Start from the beginning of it all.

Pending...Pending...

Date: January 26th,2170

Location: Home,New York,USA, Earth.

Time: 12:43 PM.

Nobody ever thought that a girl like me would end up as the head leader of the Avatar Department,or an important person in the Resistance. And I gotta say,I never quite imagined myself becoming this. I dreamt of stages full of fans,as my fingers gave birth to heart-shattering riffs. Of poetry books released under my very own name,painting the pages with complicated feelings and sensations,all of a broken and imperfect human heart. Of having my own star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame,making my country proud as a well known actress overseas. Though all those dreams were scattered away,like a feather in the wind,the moment I decided to do what any other scared yet artistically talented person who wants to make her parents proud does.

I got into STEM. Mechanical and Biological Engineering.

And between the sleepless nights of studying,drowning myself in math equations and lab reports,I got a one-way ticket to Pandora in my first year of college,from the one and only Parker Selfridge. Head administrator of the RDA’s operation in Pandora. I can still feel the anxiety lingering on my tongue. They never came with internships for first years,so what was he here for?

He came in to give out 5 internships at my college,yet he left with a new potential piece for this chess game. Me. All thanks to a question he asked that I knew the answer of. And to think I almost didn't say the answer because I thought everyone knew it,but as it turns out,only I did. I sat in the hallway with my friends,staring dumbfoundedly at the bussiness card he gave me.

Only back then,the RDA were treated as heroes,important people who made way for a better life. For an undead Earth. The propaganda was all enough to trick a little mind like mine,though it’s funny how I always thought I was a step ahead of everyone. Life on Earth as I remember it was,to say the least…grey.

The cities were gray. The people were gray. The sky was…well,grey. And between spending the rest of my life here,with my dreams crumbling before my very own eyes,and going out there to actually fight for a new home for humanity,you can guess why I chose the latter.

Nothing out of the ordinary was happening for me here anyway. Gorgeous girl,great personality,they all said,but nobody ever settled. Nobody ever stopped in their tracks to take in the pure and total beauty of the chaos that is me,so I never had a serious partner before. And…I guess I was also excited to see if the stories are true.

How an actual human betrayed his own race for a…Na’vi tribe princess?At least that’s how they put it,and I don’t even want to mention how embarrassing it was for the RDA to come back to Earth with their tails between their legs back in 2154. No unobtanium. No money. No Avatars. No nothing. I was three when that happened,and I remember playing with my cousins with our cardboard toys as our parents watched the TV in confusion and…disappointment,so you can guess why they made Jake Sully seem like an actual demon,and the death of a colonel was a pretty big deal,after all.

Thing is,the RDA only shows you the pearl in their hands,and not the mouth getting ready to swallow you whole. And now I know why they were so understaffed. That total failure after 2154 made people lose trust in the RDA over the years. But to me?

The decision came easily. I needed something new.

What didn’t,though,was the pure work I’d have to do in just 6 months. Learning the language of the natives,the Na’vi. Getting to understand the differences between our anatomy and theirs. The fauna and flora. The tribes. The ecosystems. And…of course,Eywa herself,though I learned that from Dr. Grace Augustine’s botany books,not from the RDA’s training program. I honestly don’t know what Selfridge saw in me,when I know I have friends better in college than me,but I better not question it too much.

I tried telling myself that as soon as I got in cryo,it wouldn’t be a goodbye,rather a…see you later. Looking back at it now,I think it was just wishful thinking. For now,I was me,the girl nobody ever really took seriously. Just another face in a sea of others. Next time I wake up,I’d have to work in an entire department with people twice my age.

Pending...Pending...

Date: July 31st,2174

Location: Pandora????

Time: ?????

The cryo-sleep thaw was a nightmare and a miracle all at once. My lungs burned as they dragged in air for the first time in four years, my throat raw and dry, every breath tasting metallic. My joints ached as if I’d aged a century.

“Subject revived.” the sterile voice of the AI announced, flat and emotionless. I tried sitting up, only to slump back down against the cryo pod’s restraints. My body wasn’t mine yet—not entirely.

“You’ll feel like shit for a while,” said a woman in a crisp lab coat, her voice muffled as she checked my vitals. “Side effects of long-term cryo. It’ll pass. Welcome to the ISV Valkyrie, and congrats on making it to Pandora.”

The word hung in the air, heavy and surreal. Pandora.

The next few hours were a blur of debriefings and medical checkups. My body eventually began to cooperate, but my mind lagged behind. I shuffled through endless corridors with other groggy personnel, each of us too stunned to speak. We were like ghosts wandering through a ship that pulsed with life—technicians barking orders, holograms buzzing with real-time scans of the moon’s surface, the low hum of engines preparing for atmospheric descent.

When the ship finally broke through Pandora’s atmosphere, I felt it in my chest. The vibrations reverberated through every bolt, every panel, and through me. The world outside the viewport was alive. The dense, green forests sprawled endlessly beneath the floating Hallelujah Mountains, their bases wreathed in ethereal clouds. The sky shifted from pink to blue in the blink of an eye, its colors alien yet breathtakingly familiar.

For a moment, the hum of engines and the chatter of voices faded away. It was just me and the sight of this strange, beautiful moon—a place that could have been paradise if we weren’t here to ruin it.

The ship landed with a jarring shudder, and the real work began.

Adjusting to life on Pandora was like learning to breathe all over again. Everything about this place demanded respect—the gravity was lighter, the air richer, and the biology... unfathomable. Days blurred into weeks as I threw myself into the work at the Avatar Department.

My mornings began with syncing sessions in the link pods, my mind slipping into my Avatar body like stepping into a cold pool. It wasn’t seamless—at first, every movement felt foreign. I stumbled through training exercises, my longer legs and stronger muscles betraying me at every turn. But slowly, the body became mine.

Afternoons were spent reading over files on Na’vi biology, studying their neural networks and learning their language. The words felt clumsy on my tongue, but I persisted. When I wasn’t in the lab or out on field assignments to observe Pandora’s ecosystems, I was immersed in RDA briefings.

That’s where I first heard his name again.

Jake Sully.

The briefings spoke of him like a ghost, a legend who had long since passed into myth. But here, his name was a warning.

“Resistance forces led by Sully attacked the rail line near Sector 7 again,” one of the military officers growled during lunch at the canteen. “Three shipments of amp suits lost. That bastard and his little insurgents are crippling our operations.”

The room buzzed with tension as reports of attacks piled up. Sabotaged trains, stolen supplies, and destroyed equipment—it was chaos. To the RDA, Sully wasn’t just a traitor. He was the personification of everything standing in the way of their plans.

But the more I learned, the more conflicted I felt. The propaganda painted him as a terrorist, a man who had betrayed his own kind for a primitive cause. But every whisper I caught from the scientists who had been here longer told a different story.

“Maybe Sully isn’t the villain they make him out to be,” I muttered to Dr. Ellison one evening as we worked late in the lab.

He glanced at me, his expression unreadable as he pointed towards a CCTV with his head,as if to say "Shut up. They're listening."

"That’s dangerous talk,you know. Keep your head down. Do your work. They don't like questions.”

I nodded, but the seed of doubt had already taken root.

The attacks continued, each one more brazen than the last. The RDA ramped up their operations in response, sending more troops and machinery into the wilds of Pandora. But for every move they made, the Resistance seemed to be one step ahead.

And then there was the tension between the people I worked with. Some were diehard loyalists, determined to see the mission succeed no matter the cost. Others—mostly the scientists—spoke in hushed tones about the beauty of the Na’vi culture, the interconnectedness of the flora and fauna, and the destruction we were bringing to this world.

I kept my head down, just as Ellison had warned. But at night, as I lay in my bunk staring at the ceiling, I couldn’t help but wonder: which side of history would I be on?

Pandora had a way of getting under your skin. The longer I stayed, the more I realized it wasn’t just a place. It was a mirror, reflecting humanity’s best and worst instincts back at us. And somewhere in the middle of it all was me—a girl who had come here for a fresh start, only to find herself caught in a war she didn’t fully understand.

The attacks became more than background noise; they became a constant undercurrent to life on Pandora. At first, they were just distant explosions, reports in the briefing room, or muttered curses from the military personnel in the mess hall. But over time, the Resistance started to feel like a presence, a shadow that loomed over everything the RDA tried to accomplish.

Jake Sully wasn’t just a name anymore—he was a force of nature.

The first time I felt the Resistance's impact directly was during a supply run. It was supposed to be routine—a quick trip to outpost Beta-5 to deliver Avatar-linked monitoring equipment. I was tagging along as part of my training, mostly to observe.

But the Resistance didn’t care about schedules or safety zones.

The attack was fast and chaotic. One moment, the AMP suits ahead of us were trudging through the dense forest, their movements mechanical and predictable. The next, arrows rained down from the trees, followed by explosions that sent the towering machines toppling like broken toys.

The ambush hit like a storm—sudden, violent, and unstoppable.

One moment, I was riding in the back of the supply truck, surrounded by crates of equipment and two guards sharing a nervous laugh. The next, the forest erupted in chaos.

The first explosion flipped the lead AMP suit, its towering frame crashing to the ground with a deafening roar. The convoy came to an abrupt halt as arrows rained down from the trees, their sharp points glinting like falling stars.

“Get down!” someone yelled.

I hit the truck bed hard, the impact knocking the wind out of me. My mask rattled against the metal floor as I scrambled for cover behind a crate. The world around me dissolved into a cacophony of gunfire, shouting, and the eerie war cries of the Na’vi.

The guards fired blindly into the trees, their exo-packs hissing as they struggled to maintain their aim under the pressure. I peeked over the edge of the crate just in time to see one of the AMP suits stagger, an arrow embedded in its cockpit.

Panic set in. My heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst. I wasn’t a soldier. I wasn’t trained for this. My human body was fragile here—one wrong move, and I’d be dead.

I clutched the sidearm they’d insisted I carry, though my hands were shaking too much to use it. What was I even doing here? This wasn’t supposed to be my fight.

A shadow passed overhead. My breath hitched as I looked up to see a Na’vi warrior leaping from a tree, his bow drawn, his movements impossibly fluid. He landed on the roof of the truck with barely a sound, his golden eyes scanning the scene below.

And then, those eyes locked onto mine.

For a moment, the chaos of the ambush melted away, leaving only silence between us.

He stood above me, perched on the edge of the truck’s roof, silhouetted against the glowing forest. His figure was tall and commanding, every line of his body taut with a warrior’s grace. The flickering bioluminescence of the nearby trees played off his skin, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across his lean, muscular frame.

His face was angular and strong, the high cheekbones and sharp jawline unmistakably Na’vi, yet there was something softer in his expression. His golden eyes, large and luminous, fixed on me with an intensity that felt like a physical force. They weren’t filled with rage or cruelty but something far more unnerving—calculated curiosity, as though he were trying to read my soul in that single moment.

The streaks of blue war paint decorating his face didn’t fully mask the smooth, rich azure of his skin, which gleamed faintly under the pale light of Pandora’s twin moons. His braids, adorned with small beads and feathers, swayed gently with each subtle movement, a testament to the culture he carried with him like armor.

But it wasn’t just his appearance that struck me—it was his presence.

He radiated confidence, a quiet power that demanded attention without arrogance. It was the kind of aura that made the world around him seem smaller, less significant. The chaos raging around us felt like a distant hum compared to the weight of his gaze.

And yet, beneath that commanding presence, there was something deeper—an unmistakable grief, perhaps, or a burden that someone so young should never have to carry. It was in the set of his shoulders, the faint downturn of his mouth, and the way his hands gripped the bow with both precision and purpose.

“Drop it,” he said, his voice deep and steady, but with a softness that caught me off guard.

The words hit me like a command, though they weren’t barked or shouted. It was the tone of someone who expected to be obeyed—not out of fear, but respect.

For a second, I couldn’t breathe. The sidearm in my trembling hands felt heavier than it should, as if the very act of holding it was a betrayal. His gaze flicked to the weapon, then back to me, and I realized with a jolt that he wasn’t looking at me like an enemy. He was looking at me like a question.

“You are… different,” he said, tilting his head slightly, the movement as fluid and deliberate as everything else about him. His accent curled around the words, each syllable infused with the lyrical cadence of his native tongue.

I wanted to speak, to ask him what he meant, but my throat felt dry, my voice lost in the weight of the moment.

He crouched slightly, lowering himself onto one knee so we were nearly at eye level. Even then, his presence dwarfed mine. Up close, the details became sharper—the faint patterns of his skin, the slight twitch of his ears as they picked up the sounds of the battle behind him, the faint rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

“You do not fight,” he observed, the faintest hint of curiosity threading through his words. His eyes lingered on mine, their golden glow unwavering. “And you… fear.”

It wasn’t an accusation. It was a statement of fact, delivered with neither judgment nor malice.

His hand shifted slightly, and I flinched, but he didn’t reach for me. Instead, he pointed at the weapon still lying on the ground between us.

The Na’vi reacted instantly. He grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet with startling gentleness.

“You do not belong here,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “Run.”

“What—”

“Go!”

He released me and darted back into the fray, moving with the grace of a predator and the determination of someone who had everything to lose.

I didn’t run. Not immediately. Instead, I crouched behind the truck, my legs trembling as I watched the battle unfold.

He moved like the forest itself, blending into the chaos with a skill that seemed almost supernatural. He wasn’t just fighting—he was leading. The other Na’vi warriors followed his signals, their coordinated strikes overwhelming the RDA forces.

For every bullet fired, they had an arrow. For every shout of anger, they answered with a battle cry that sent chills down my spine.

And yet, amidst the violence, there was something strangely... noble about them. They didn’t kill indiscriminately. They targeted the machines, the vehicles, the weapons. It was as if they were trying to make a point rather than simply annihilate us.

When the ambush finally ended, the Resistance had melted back into the forest, leaving behind a convoy in ruins. Smoke rose from the wreckage, and the air was thick with the smell of burning fuel.

I stumbled out from behind the truck, my legs barely holding me up. Around me, the survivors were regrouping, their faces pale and shell-shocked.

“Medic!” someone called, dragging a wounded soldier from the wreckage.

But I couldn’t move. My mind was stuck on him—the way he’d looked at me, the way he’d spared me when he could have easily ended my life.

“You do not belong here,” he’d said.

The words echoed in my head as I stared at the destruction around me. For the first time, I began to wonder if he was right.

[unwrittenlibrary]

the warmth of your love

summary -> there are more ways to say i love you than just i love you. you and bucky share a few.

words -> 2.2k

warnings -> pining, friends to lovers, back to my fluffy bucky roots, female!reader

notes -> i wrote a harry s. piece similar to this years ago & it’s so interesting to see how my writing has changed since then. based off of this list. items from the list are italicized!

— ➶ —

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

They’re simple words that Bucky has become accustomed to.

Steve Rogers departure has left a hole in the world and a gap in Bucky’s chest that aches. They were best friends, brothers, and Bucky wasn’t sure how to navigate this world without him.

Bucky has grown used to the pity filled eyes of the Avengers, or at least what’s left of them, and the apologetic tone of voice.

The way the words came from your mouth though was different. Your eyes full of kindness and a small smile on your face that offered comfort.

“Th..Thank you.” Bucky says quietly. The two of you have only known each other for a couple years now, but Bucky finds comfort in you more than he does people he’s known since Steve and Sam had saved him. “It means a lot.”

Your hand squeezes his right forearm gently. “If you need anything, I’m here for you.”

He knows the words hold true; That if he called, you’d be over with dinner or movies to help him. It makes Bucky feel warm in a way he hasn’t in almost a century.

“I know.” His left hand covers yours. “I appreciate it.” You both share a smile, small and private, before the moment is over.

“I was in the neighborhood.”

There’s a knock on his door that makes Bucky jump. He’s been working on his reactions, logically he knows not everybody is out to get him, but it’s something ingrained in his mind.

He’s working on being better about it, he is, but it’s almost ten at night and Bucky doesn’t really have many friends left.

His hand wraps around the hilt of his knife as he creeps towards his apartment door. There’s another knock and Bucky moves to look through the peephole.

It’s you. Covered dishes in your hand and scarf wrapped tightly around your neck. Bucky’s lips quark up at the sight, fall was starting and fall in New York was a bitter cold. His hand falls from his knife as he moves to unlock the door.

“What are you doing here?” He asks incredulously as you step inside. Bucky’s eyes find his makeshift bed on the living room floor and he shifts in embarrassment.

You gently place the glass dish on his counter and shrug your coat off. “I was in the neighborhood.” It’s an obvious lie, if the meal for two is anything to go by, but Bucky doesn’t dispute it. “Thought you might be hungry.”

You move around his kitchen like you belong there, pulling out plates and utensils. Bucky watches with his mouth parted in awe. “You didn’t have to-“

“-I wanted to.” You move over, making room for Bucky to stand beside you, and hold out a fork for him. “Now, come on. It’s a new recipe.”

Bucky holds a finger up. “Let me get you a drink. I have some wine.” He shuffles through his cabinets until he comes across a bottle of white wine, a housewarming gift from Sam.

“Now it’s a date.” You giggle and Bucky can feel his cheeks heat, not at the insinuation of it being a date but the fact that he so desperately wishes it was.

“Stay there. I’m coming to get you.”

Bucky knows you’re not his girlfriend. It’s a painful observation he makes every time you bring something over or offer to go out. The way your hands brush but never intertwine and how you give him a hug and press a kiss to his cheek instead of his lips.

Bucky knew you weren’t his girlfriend, but he didn’t know you were dating.

“I’m so sorry to bother you,” Your voice is choked up and you struggle to get the words out, “I just, I didn’t know who else to call.”

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Bucky’s mind has slipped into panic mode as he jumps up from his couch. He moves around his apartment, hastily pulling on pants and socks while holding the phone to his ear and listening for any signs of pain. “Where are you?”

You sniffle. “I’m fine! I’m not hurt! Well, not physically anyway. I had a date tonight and he stood me up.” You suck in a deep breath and Bucky freezes.

A date?

“So, my pride is injured.” You joke, but Bucky’s stuck frozen in the middle of his living room with one shoe on and a broken heart.

He knows, okay, he knows you never told him you had feelings for him. That you didn’t owe him anything, but he thought maybe…

“…But physically I’m okay.” You’re still talking and Bucky is only half listening. “Can I come over? I’m, like, five blocks away. Bad Moon bar. I can walk to your place. I just need a friend.”

The word rings in Bucky’s ears, but he forces himself to speak. “Stay there. I’ll come get you.” Bucky moves to pull his second shoe on and pulls on a coat.

He hears your sigh of relief. “Thank you so much. I’ll be outside.” Bucky swallows thickly when you hang the phone up.

“I think you’re beautiful.”

You have another date. This time with a man who asked what your favorite flower is and has decided to take you out to dinner instead of a bar.

Bucky’s chest hurts, but he stays silent. He’s unwilling to break this friendship up by telling you how he feels, especially when it seems clear to him that you do not feel the same way.

“Okay! Okay!” You come barreling down your hallway and into the living room. Bucky looks up from his phone and his mouth almost falls open in shock.

You look lovely in the dress that flows to your feet. It fits around your curves and Bucky can’t stop his eyes from trailing over you in awe.

“Wow.” He murmurs. Your eyes shift and you glance down at your hands fiddling in the front of your stomach. “You look…”

You cut him off before he can get anymore words out, “I look ridiculous! I knew it. I look far too dressed up.” You spin on your heel, but Bucky shoots up to stop you.

“No! You look…” He trails off nervously. Bucky looks at you, really looks at you, someone warm and full of light and understands what this feeling he has around you is. “I think you’re beautiful.”

“Happy Birthday.” & “I made this for you.”

Bucky walks into his apartment and is immediately hit with the smell of vanilla. He can hear your voice, reading ingredients to yourself, from his entryway and smiles to himself.

“I knew there was a reason Sam kept me out all day.” Bucky laughs when you jump and drop the whisk in your hand. “What’re you doing here, sweetheart?”

Your shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath. “It’s your birthday!” You smile brightly as Bucky presses a greeting kiss to your cheek.

“I’ve had too many of them, no need to bring attention to it.” Bucky dips a finger in the whipped frosting in your hands and laughs when you smack it away.

“We have to celebrate!” You exclaim with an affronted look. “No ifs ands or buts! Happy birthday, Bucky!”

The bowl of frosting is dropped on the counter as you move to wrap your arms tightly around Bucky’s waist. He settles in your arms as his own come up to wrap around you.

The poems and stories talk about being in the arms of the one you love as rapid heartbeats and butterflies but all Bucky feels is calm. It’s like the worries of his day to day life just slip away when he’s with you.

It’s good, so wonderfully good to have an anchor like that. He didn’t need the butterflies that made him feel sick or the rapid heartbeat that worsened his anxiety. He just needed the warmth.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Bucky presses another kiss to the top of your head. You pull away to look up at him excitedly. “What’s that look for?”

You pull away completely and move around to pull your bag off of one of his kitchen stools. “I made this for you.” Your voice is quiet and nervous as you push a wrapped box towards him.

It’s a small book, one with no title to indicate what’s on the inside, but Bucky can tell it’s something personal from the way you’re rocking back and forth nervously on your feet.

When he opens it to the first page, tears almost spring to his eyes. His lungs burn with effort to not cry as he flips through picture after picture. Him, you and him, him with Sam and Steve and all of you together.

Each photo has a small note next to it too. Hearts and smiley faces decorate the edges. Bucky looks up at you with his mouth open in awe.

“This is… Nobody has ever done something this special for me before.” He admits quietly. “I love it.”

A sigh of relief escapes you as Bucky moves to pull you into his arms again. “Happy Birthday, Buck.” You murmur into his chest.

It’s the best birthday Bucky’s had since he was a child.

“You can tell me anything.”

You’re nervous.

It’s obvious in the way your eyes shift to Bucky before back to the sidewalk in front of you.

Your nervousness is making Bucky nervous. His fingers twitching every so often and he finds himself shifting around as if he expects something to hop out from behind one of the trees.

“Are you okay?” Bucky finally asks when he notices your hands tangled together in front of your stomach. “You’re being fidgety.”

You look up with wide, shocked eyes like you had forgotten Bucky was there entirely, too caught up in your own thoughts. “I’m okay!” You say quickly.

Bucky feels his eyes narrow and he forces you to a stop beside him with a gentle hand on your elbow. “Are you sure?”

“Yep! Just busy overthinking.” You laugh awkwardly as you glance down at the hand still wrapped around your elbow. Bucky drops it quickly, but your hand reaches out to intertwine your fingers with his. “I just… I’ve been wanting to ask you.. No. Tell you something.”

Bucky squeezes your hand gently. “You can tell me anything.” He says quietly. You look at him with wet eyes and Bucky feels himself panic. “No judgement, not from me, not ever.”

“Promise?” You ask quietly. Your voice sounds so unlike you, so nervous and uncomfortable that Bucky isn’t sure what he can do to make it better.

So he nods. “Promise. I’m the last person to judge, sweetheart.”

“I love you.”

It’s right out of those romantic comedies that Bucky pretends to dislike. The way you stand in front of him, wrapped up in a winter coat and scarf, with trembling hands and admit to Bucky how you feel.

“I’ve felt like this for a long time. A really long time now, I don’t think I could even tell you when because it just happened.” You ramble when you’re nervous, a habit Bucky thinks is adorable. “And I knew you were going through a lot, so I never said anything. I love being your friend, I do, but I had to tell you. It’s tearing me up having this secret because I hate secrets.”

Bucky says your name in an attempt to cut you off, but you don’t seem to hear him. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I-“

Your lips press shut when Bucky’s hands come up to cup your cheeks. “Will you shut up for just one second?” He asks sweetly.

You nod with wide eyes. “I feel warm around you,” Bucky starts off, “I don’t feel butterflies or sweaty palms. I used too, sometimes when you look at me a certain way I still do, but most of the time I just feel warm. I… I feel like I can breathe again. I feel calm. You make me calm.”

“What?” You ask softly. It’s obvious you’re trying to not get your hopes up as Bucky talks.

“I love you too.” Bucky says clearly. Your hand comes up to rest over his on your cheek as you press into the pressure. “You make it easy for me to breathe again.”

Bucky feels the sigh of relief you let out. “You make it easy for me too.” You say quietly, your tone much lighter than before.

“Can I kiss you?”

When you nod, Bucky can feel his entire face brighten. He’s sure there’s a nervous blush there as you tilt your head up towards him and leans to meet you halfway.

It’s just as warm as you are, the way you kiss. Slow and pushing all of your emotions into it. Your lips are cold, but Bucky’s sure his are too.

It’s everything he’s wanted with you. Despite the snowflakes beginning to fall around you and the wind nipping at his skin, all Bucky feels is warmth.

Bonus -> “Can I have this dance?”

A winter wedding seemed fitting when you had suggested it. Something small, intimate and warm. Just a few of your closest friends and family to bear witness.

You’ve been wandering around the venue for the past hour, saying hi to family and catching up with people you’ve been too busy to hang out with the past couple of months. Bucky’s sick of not having you by his side.

His arm wraps your waist from behind and he presses a kiss to your cheek, immediately cutting off what you were saying to Pepper.

A slow song starts, Bucky won’t admit until later that he told the DJ to start it once Bucky reached your side.

“Mrs. Barnes, can I have this dance?”

— ➶ —

me: has ten pieces in the drafts that need to be worked on

also me: just writes this fluffy disaster

[my-emotional-self]

Toxic Love Chapter 6

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Finding out your soulmates were Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes was one thing.  But when someone from your past comes back to haunt you, you have to figure out if a relationship with two super soldiers is something you really want to pursue or if you’d rather go back to your comfortable single life.

Series Warnings:  18+, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, past mentions of rape, self-harm, attempted rape, domestic violence, stalking, death threats, possible Dark!Steve?, Steve will be an asshole a LOT in this series but I don’t know how dark it will get, explicit sexual content, mental health issues, kind of A/B/O dynamics but not really (no they are not actual wolves, more like the hierarchy), mentions of suicide, flashbacks of suicide, nightmares

A/N: There will be no taglist for this story!  I apologize in advance!

After Steve and Bucky helped you get everything unpacked, the three of you enjoyed some take-out. Pizza to be exact.  Well, the same pizza you had earlier with them.  You had been craving it for the last two weeks and your stomach was very happy.  

“Did you make your grocery list yet?” Bucky asked as he took care of the cleaning up.  

You couldn’t help but laugh. As you were unpacking the few items you had for your personal kitchen, you began playing with the screen on the refrigerator.  You couldn’t believe the high tech gadget and while it took you nearly an hour, you finally figured out how to add groceries to the list.  

“I did.  I’m surprised I was able to figure it out, it only took me about an hour,” you responded.

This made Bucky full out laugh.  “An hour? That’s actually impressive.  It took Steve here almost a month to figure it out before he finally gave up and asked for help.”

Trying to hide your smirk, you turned to look at Steve.  He had a scowl on his face as he was looking at Bucky.  “Let’s not forget I was frozen for 70 years.  I’m still trying to learn all this damn technology.”

Leaning over you pressed a kiss to Steve’s temple.  “Don’t worry about it Steve.  Other than my gaming setup, I’m not too big on technology either.”

~~~

“Dad, I’m home!” you called out to your father as you shut the front door to the run down farmhouse.  It was just the two of you now ever since your mother’s death one year ago today.  You didn’t want to go to school, you wanted to stay home.  Stay in bed.  But your father said it would be best to try and continue on like it was any other normal day.  It would never be a normal day.  Ever again.

As you turned the corner and into the living room, you saw him. Your father.  Dead.  Hanging from the wooden ceiling beam with a noose around his neck.  “Dad?” you choked out, not believing that this was happening again.  “No. No, no, no, no, NO!” you screamed as you ran to him.  Upon touching his leg you knew it was too late.  Way too late.  He was so cold to the touch.  It had been hours since he committed suicide and you weren’t here for him.  

“Why dad!  WHY DID YOU DO THIS!  DON’T LEAVE ME PLEASE!  DON’T LEAVE ME ALONE!!” you cried and begged but it was no use.  He too was now gone.  

~~~

You jolted awake by the feeling of hands on you.  Your breathing was ragged and you were dripping in sweat.  Both Steve and Bucky on either side of you; their eyes filled with worry.

“Are you alright?” Steve questioned.  

“How..did you…get in…here,” you replied as you tried to catch your breath.  These kinds of nightmares always made you feel like you had just ran a marathon.  

“F.R.I.D.A.Y alerted us that your heart rate was going through the roof.  You scared us half to death with your screaming doll,” Bucky spoke quietly in the dark room.  “You feel warm,” he said as he placed the back of his flesh hand over your forehead.

Shrugging him away as nicely as possible, you got out of bed.  “I’m fine.  I’m just going to take a cool shower.  Thanks for coming to check on me though.”

Inside the confines of your bathroom you opened the medicine cabinet and took out a couple of bottles. Filling up a glass of cold water, you placed the pills in your mouth and downed the entire glass.  

It had been months since you last had a nightmare.  To be honest, you thought they were finally done with, until you realized the todays date. Of course.  It was the anniversary of your parents’ death.  How could you have forgotten?  Oh right.  You had met your soulmates and spent the entire day moving into your new place.  Now you felt guilty for even forgetting in the first place.  

As you stripped of your sweat soaked clothing, you hopped into the shower.  The water mixed with your tears as you quietly sobbed and asked your parents for forgiveness.  

~~~

When you got out of the shower, Steve and Bucky were no longer in your room.  Instead, you found a little note on your pillow.  

We didn’t know if we should give you space or wait for you so we will let you make that decision.  Let us know if you need us to come back tonight.  Try and get some sleep sweetheart.  

Steve and Bucky

Even though the note was sweet and thoughtful, you knew instantly that you would not be getting any more sleep tonight.  

By eight in the morning you were still awake and scrolling through social media when a text from Bucky came in.  

Bucky: Breakfast in the communal kitchen?  Everyone would like to meet you.

Oh god.  You were dreading this part.  You had already met Natasha, but to meet everyone else all at once? Anxiety began to creep over you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to meet them, it was that you had anxiety about meeting people for the first time.

Y/N: Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready

Jumping out of bed you headed for the closet to try and figure out what to wear.  Was this casual?  Or was everyone going to be wearing their pajamas?  Did you want to dress to impress them?  Or did you want to be yourself?  You went with the latter, figuring if you were going to all be living under the same roof, they might as well get to know the real you.  

You put on a pair of black skinny ripped jeans and a plain forest green t-shirt.  Slipping your feet into your comfortable black flats, you were about to head out the door when you took a look at yourself in mirror.  Steve would blow a fuse at the dark circles under your eyes.  So you quickly placed some concealer under your eyes.  

Steve and Bucky were waiting for you in the kitchen and the three of you headed down to the communal living area.  They didn’t ask you about your nightmare and you were grateful for that.  

The elevator doors opened and for once, your stomach growled at the smell of breakfast in the morning. You loved breakfast food, but you weren’t big on eating in the morning.  Now breakfast for dinner, that was something you could eat every night.

Steve cleared his throat and everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at the three of you. Instantly you felt your face heat up.

“Everyone, this is our soulmate Y/N,” Steve spoke loud and clear.  He began pointing everyone out for you.  “That’s Tony, Pepper and Bruce.  You know Natasha of course and right there is Clint and Darcy.  Thor and Jane are still on Asgard but you’ll meet them another time.”

You awkwardly waved.  “Hey everybody.”

Tony was the first to come up to you and he shook your hand.  “Tony I can’t thank you enough for my rooms here.  They are perfect.”

He waved his hand like it was no big deal.  “Please. My gift to you.  And that is why I pay my interior designer the big bucks. She knows what she’s doing.  Now, if you need anything, anything at all, just ask F.R.I.D.A.Y and I’ll make it happen.  Happy to have you here kiddo.  Maybe you can keep those two out of trouble huh?”

“I’ll try,” you chuckled.

Just then Bruce came up and the two of you exchanged quiet ‘hellos’ before he and Tony were off to their lab, food and coffee in hand.  

“Hey, now that you’re here, maybe Cap will stop being such a grouch all the time now that he’ll get laid,” Clint blurted out and as quickly as the words left his mouth, Natasha smacked him upside the head.  “What? It’s the truth.  No offense Steve but you have been a real crab ass the last few months.”

“Shut up Clint!” Darcy spoke as she shoved him out of the way.  “Hi there.  I’m Darcy. Darcy Lewis.  Just ignore him.  He doesn’t think before he speaks.”

In that moment, you knew you were going to be good friends with Darcy.  “Nice to meet you Darcy.”

“Now I hear that you game, is that correct?” she began to say as the two of you piled food onto your plates and sat down.  

The morning didn’t go as bad as you thought.  The only downside was that it now seemed Steve was in a bad mood because of Clint’s big mouth. At least you were getting to know Darcy and Pepper and they both were really nice.  

Darcy asked you a lot of questions about your job and gaming.  She had even asked if she could sit in on a night that you worked so she could watch everything.  Of course you said she could.  Hell, it would be fun to have Darcy there.  

You were starting to get tired after not getting much sleep so you excused yourself and went back to your room.  Tonight would be the first night that you will be working at the tower and you wanted to try and get some rest.  You had a feeling it was going to be a long night.  

“Is everything alright sweetheart?” Steve’s voice startled you just as you were about to open your door.

“Jesus Steve, don’t sneak up on me like that,” you replied with a hand on your heart.  

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to.  I just wanted to make sure you were feeling alright.  Especially after last night is all.”

Dropping your hand from your chest, you gave him a tight smile and put your arms around his narrow waist, pulling him in for a hug.  “I’m ok Steve.  Just a little tired is all.”

He placed his chin on your head and held you in his arms.  You felt safe against him.  Like nothing or no one could ever hurt you.  You were starting to realize that maybe single life wasn’t what you truly wanted. Single life was just something that you had become accustomed to over the last year.  Maybe being in a relationship again would be better for you.

[deathlylampshade]

The Concert | Dio Morrissey x f!reader

AN: not a lot to say about this one, aside from the fact that I’m actually really happy with how it turned out. I always love the “best friend’s younger sister” trope, and who better to do it with than our goth king himself. Thanks as always to @pascalpanic for hyping me up and listening to me rant about mosh pits. Enjoy!

Warnings: swearing, kissing, super mild punk show related violence, brief anxiety mention, Dio is a little cringey but you like it

“Kiddo, you’re not even gonna have fun,” your brother swears, “this band is harsh no doubt, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“As sweet as your over protection is, you’re not ditching me tonight,” you roll your eyes. Your brother is sitting on your bathroom counter watching you get ready for the concert he promised a month ago he’d take you to. You know his concern comes from a genuine place, you’d only gotten into the goth scene fairly recently, and long time fans can be really intense with “virgins.”

“Hey, uh, is Shane gonna be there?” you ask, casually as you can manage. You attempt to continue with your black eyeshadow to avoid eye contact with your brother, but he sees right through you anyways.

“First of all, you have to call him Dio while we’re in public. You are not killing the vibe on your induction night. Second of all, gross. I’m sitting right here. Drool over my best friend on your own time.” Your brother pokes your forehead with one of your makeup brushes in a scolding manor.

“Okay well first of all,” you start, “this is my time because this is my bathroom. And second of all… do YOU have any weird nickname I should be aware of before I, and I quote, kill the vibe?”

Your brother flushes slightly, looking at the ground before answering, “Uh, it’s Ghost, actually.”

You narrow your eyes at him, biting back a laugh at how ridiculous he looks, bright red ears contrasting the Doc Martens currently kicking against the floor.

“Dio and… Ghost?” He just nods, looking up at you finally.

“Well alright, my knights in dirty ass Tripp pants.” The comment earns you a laugh, and you feel a small swell of pride rise in your chest. For as insufferable as you found each other a lot of the time, your older brother really was like your best friend. His group of friends had stuck together since middle school, and had absolutely taken you under their wing when you’d let yourself really fall into your darker side. Tonight was your first real night out with everyone, and you couldn’t pretend to be more nervous. You had known your brother’s best friend Shane, Dio, since you were in third grade and had always found him fascinating. You can’t deny that he’s gorgeous, tall and lean, always wearing a leather trench coat that accentuates those features. Full, plush lips, and deep brown eyes that you want to get lost in. Just as you find yourself actually getting lost in the thought of Dio, you’re startled back to reality when your brother turns your hair dryer on and blows it in your face.

“Yo, kid, did I lose you? We gotta go,” in your trance he’s managed to get his hair done and a subtly cool amount of eyeliner. You can only hope not to look like a child, or god forbid a drone, next to him and his friends. “Don’t be nervous, just get your shoes on.”

When you get your boots laced up, you give yourself one last glance in the mirror, fluffing your hair to make it look less obviously styled, and run out the door.

When you arrive at the venue, if you could call it that, it looks more like a rundown warehouse, the music is already in full swing. “The openers always fuckin’ suck, kid,” your brother had told you, “we always show up at least an hour late.”

You’re rocking nervously on your heels, stuck to the ground where your brother had told you to wait while he found the group and brought them over to you. You smile widely when you see them approaching you, but are quick to cover it with what you hope is a cool smirk. Out of place doesn’t even begin to describe how you feel, it would be more accurate to say you’re on a different plane of existence. You’ve managed to transcend discomfort and now have settled into a calmer state.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Wednesday Addams herself,” a deep voice calls out from the head of the pack.

“Hey Sh- uh, Dio,” you stammer as the king himself puts his hands on your shoulders to inspect your outfit. Your stomach drops when he brushes some hair from your face. “You look good. Like you put some thought into how you look, unlike the rest of these drones.” Your face lights up at his praise, and flushes quickly when he winks at you.

Your group makes their way towards the front of the stage when you hear the headlining band announced. The first few songs go off without a hitch, the crowd moves in a seething, pulsing way to the music, and you find yourself moving along with them. You catch Dio’s eyes a couple times to find him already looking at you, his expression relaxed and amused, but his eyes dark as he takes in everything around him. You’re about to walk over and ask him to dance with you when you hear from the stage, “Alright everybody, let’s open this fucking pit!”

Your eyes widen briefly, but you try your best to stay cool in front of your brother and his friends. You can only imagine how lame Dio would find you if you lost your cool because of some moshing. Unfortunately, in your attempt to save face, you’ve distracted yourself to the people around you and find yourself getting shoved, almost to the ground. Your brother hurries over and helps you up, and you assure him you’re fine. It’s nothing you can’t handle. He keeps his grip on you a moment longer, and ruffles your hair before jumping into the circle pit himself. You do your best to keep dancing around, staying away from everyone jumping and shoving each other as much as you can, and for a few minutes you’re surprisingly successful.

The next song that plays is even more intense than the last, and you find yourself crowded against the stage trying to stay away from everything. Your heart rate quickens, and you can feel an anxiety attack trying to creep its way up your spine. You look around desperately, searching for your brother so you can beg him to take you home, when a hand on your shoulder startles you.

Warm brown eyes search your own, “Didn’t mean to scare you, darling, but do you want to get out of here?”

You nod up at Dio, and he takes your hand, guiding you in front of him towards a side door. One of his hands rests protectively against the small of your back, and you shudder at the warmth. You’re outside, the air is cool against the sweat on your skin, and yet Dio’s hand never leaves yours.

“D’you wanna sit?” He gestures to a bench resting against the side of the building.

“I-” your voice cracks, and you clear your throat to find some volume, “Sure, that sounds nice.”

The pair of you sit in silence for a moment while you catch your breath, you can feel Dio’s eyes boring into you, but can’t bear to look at him. “God, I’m so sorry, Shane,” you whisper, “Er, Dio, fuck, sorry again.”

“Don’t apologize, darling, it’s just you and me out here.” You finally dare to look up, and he’s smiling gently at you, holding both of your hands in one of his, and rubbing the other soothingly up your back. “I know the first time can be intense, to say the least. It’s a madhouse in there, and those fucking drones don’t know any better than to push everyone around. It should be a crime to scare or shove anyone as perfect as you.”

You huff out a strangled laugh at his words, and move your hands to fiddle with the rings on his fingers. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Because you’re my best friend’s little sister,” he starts, and his grip on your back tightens when disappointment crosses your features, “and because you are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on. If someone as ethereal as you will even allow me in your presence, I have done something right.”

You turn your body towards him completely, searching his face. The strong, confident, devil may care Dio from inside is nothing compared to the patient, sweet, borderline insecure Shane you’re talking to out here. You reach your hand up to caress his face, smoothing down his dyed black curls, tracing your thumb against his full bottom lip. Shane melts into your touch, a content sigh leaving his lips at the contact, the heat of your skin against his feels more powerful than the sun at this moment. When you run your thumb nail against the sensitive skin behind his ear, his eyes snap open.

“Can I- would you… would you be mad if I kissed you?” He asks, his voice shy, but his eyes full of want.

‘I’ll be mad if you don’t,” you laugh incredulously. Shane places one hand against your jaw, and the other one slides up your back to rest in your hair. The cool metal of his rings feels electric, but nothing could compare to the jolt you feel when his lips meet yours. He’s soft, so much gentler than you imagined he’d be, and he takes his time losing himself in the feeling of your lips moving against his. He pulls away too soon, and you grab the front of his jacket to pull him back to you.

This kiss is not as gentle, but it is equally as sweet and intoxicating. His hand tightens on your scalp, and his tongue presses against the seam of your lips. You gasp, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue against yours. He tastes like clove cigarettes and Jaeger, and it’s fucking incredible. He’s more perfect than your wildest dreams of him, and the low moan he lets out when you scratch your nails up his back makes you reconsider everything you’ve ever thought about heaven.

Eventually you have to breathe, so you pull back just a bit and rest your forehead against his. “Wow,” you manage to get out. Shane laughs, the sound is more musical than anything you’ve heard tonight.

“Wow is correct, my darling, you are truly more ethereal than I could have fathomed.” He kisses you again, softly on the lips, and then places another on your cheek. “Do you think I could take you out for real sometime soon?”

You bite your lip to prevent a giddy smile from breaking across your face, and nod quickly. “I actually found this record store with its own coffee shop a couple towns over, we could check that out, maybe? I mean, I’ve liked you since freshman year, so anything you want to do would be perfect. You’re perfect, Dio.”

His ears flush an adorable pink, and he smiles almost shyly up at you. “Shane,” he says, “Call me Shane.”

You beam up at him, “Shane.”

He stands up, takes your hand, and leads you back into the concert venue. Walking arm in arm with the king, you feel like you could jump right in the middle of that mosh pit and come out on top. Shane guides you back to your friends, and you try not to get overwhelmed by the stares and whispers when people see you together. Your brother catches a glimpse of you, his eyes drop down to where your hand is connected with Shane’s, and you brace yourself for an obnoxious or over protective comment.

“It’s about goddamn time.”

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Eight

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: happy year of nessian everybody!!

***

Nesta’s glasses are on her nightstand when she wakes. Blinking blearily, she slips them on and props herself up in bed, dazed and confused. A glance at the alarm clock tells her it’s five in the morning.

How did she get here? How long has she been asleep? Reaching over to click her lamp on, her eyes tear up at the sudden stream of light. Looking around wildly, her gaze catches on something on the wall across from her bed.

It’s a painting of a shimmering autumnal forest, hung up neatly as if it’s always been there. Slowly, memories of the night before begin to seep back in.

There was a festival. A warm day that became freezing and ugly when she lost sight of Cassian, and her glasses—

Her hands reach up to touch her intact glasses. They were broken, and then there was a blur of consciousness that only became clear once again when she found Cassian—

Oh, god. Cassian. She remembers now.

But it must have been a dream. Her glasses are fine and her painting is right here, as if the anxiety of last night was all in Nesta’s head.

She pulls her glasses off, only to find brand new wiring staring back at her. Someone has carefully wired the bridge of her spectacles back together and given the whole thing a much needed polish, leaving them looking the same but different.

Slowly, she puts them back on.

It’s way too early to think about this. Kicking the covers off, Nesta realizes she’s in the same clothes she fell asleep in. When it registers that Cassian was the one who carried her up to bed, pulled her coat and boots off, and tucked her in neatly, she almost falls back into the pillows and stays there. Instead, she hurriedly changes out of her jeans and into flannel pants, hoping an early breakfast will allow her to forget the night before.

Not that she wants to forget it. She’d just— rather save those thoughts for later, when the reality of it isn't pressed up so close to her. Because really, what happened last night came straight out of her extensively detailed daydreams. She doesn’t know what to do with the fact that it wasn’t a daydream.

Padding downstairs, Nesta freezes at the entryway to the kitchen when she realizes the light over the island is on. Under the warm glow, Cassian is asleep at the marble counter, his head pillowed by his arms. An open laptop and a cold mug of half-finished coffee sits in front of him.

This isn’t good, Nesta thinks. This is the reality she's supposed to be avoiding right now.

And yet— he looks so soft, so tired. Maybe if she’s really quiet…

She slams her toe into a barstool halfway into the kitchen. Grabbing her foot and hissing, she looks up at the ceiling and curses everything that ever was. Across from her, Cassian’s body jerks, and then he’s wide awake.

“Nesta?” he blinks sleepily when he notices her. One side of his face is red from where he fell asleep on his arms. “What are you doing here?”

Nesta quickly straightens. “I could ask the same of you.”

Cassian finally looks around, taking notice of where he is. “Right,” he mutters to himself. “I was supposed to be working.”

Nesta frowns at him. “You shouldn’t pull all-nighters. Go sleep in your room.”

“Actually…” Cassian is looking at Nesta as if he’s seeing her for the first time. “I was wondering if we could talk—”

The excuse blurts out at his words: “I need to pee.” Before he can say anything else, Nesta is legging it to the hall bathroom and slamming the door behind her.

Breathing out a sigh, she slides down the wall to the floor and pulls her legs to her chest. So much for getting breakfast.

Cassian doesn’t try coming after her or knocking on the door, thank god. She stays in the bathroom until she’s positive that he’s gone back upstairs, and only then does she take the time to consider what a fucking weirdo she’s being— weirder than usual, that is. And it’s all because of him.

With the last couple of months she’s had, Nesta would think that she’s gotten better at adjusting to changes in her thorough plans. But the possibility of allowing romance back into her life is so far out of the scope of her imagination, she doesn’t know what to do with it. After all, Tomas was a fluke gone colossally wrong. Where could Cassian possibly fit into her loveless story?

Nesta chews on a nail. She needs help.

***

Cassian doesn’t try to bring up their kiss again after the incident in the kitchen. Things return to normal between them, to the point where Nesta questions if that night at the festival even happened. There’s no foreign tension or elephant in the room; there’s only Cassian and Nesta, like it has been since the beginning.

Nesta doesn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved. Either way, she’s gotten away with it.

At least that’s what she thinks, until one early morning she wakes at the feeling of a warm hand stroking lines up and down her arm.

She’s certain she’s dreaming, and is content to remain ensconced in this softness when she hears the soft murmur of her name. Her eyelids flutter open, and then comes the realization that she is very much not dreaming.

“Cassian?” Her voice is thick. “What are you doing here?”

“You need to get up,” he whispers.

She clears the sleep out of her eyes, glancing around for her alarm clock. “What time is it—?”

“Five-thirty in the morning,” he says lowly. Her room is still dark, but she can make out his soft smile above her. “I want to show you something, but you’ve gotta get up, Nesta.”

Irritation floods Nesta at the realization that she only got four hours of sleep. Right now, she’s willing to strangle Cassian with her bare hands for another four.

“In what world,” she burrows deeper into her blankets, “would I ever get up before nine a.m. for you?”

“You’re not even a little bit curious about what I want to show you?” He clicks the lamp on, and Nesta hisses at the flood of light hitting her eyes. Squinting without her glasses, she can see that he’s fully dressed.

“What the hell, Cassian,” she mumbles into her pillow.

“You don’t have to get dressed,” he promises as he starts dragging the comforter away from her. “Just put your shoes and glasses on and you can sleep in the truck.”

Nesta is more awake at that, because she doesn’t hate the idea of taking a ride in Cassian’s truck. The promise of heated seats doesn’t hurt, either.

“I’m taking the blanket,” she says as she clambers out of bed.

“There’s already some in the truck,” Cassian says. “Just come on, will you?”

Grumbling, she grabs her glasses and lets him lead her downstairs and out to the truck. Shivering in her boots, Nesta wonders if she’ll have to kill Cassian if this doesn’t pay off.

“You know, we wouldn’t be doing this if you hadn’t called stargazing overrated last week,” Cassian says as he gets into the driver’s seat. The door slams shut behind him, blocking out the freezing wind. The engine is already warmed up and the heater is on full blast.

Nesta sighs at the heat, her clamped muscles loosening. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You said mornings were prettier than nights.” Cassian pulls onto the lone road that leads away from the cabin. “I brought hot chocolate, by the way.” He gestures to a thermos in the cupholder between them.

Nesta ignores him. “Just because mornings are nice doesn’t mean I want to be awake to experience them. If this is going to be one of your ungodly early workout activities…” she trails off threateningly.

“Shut up and drink your hot chocolate,” he chuckles. He shoves the thermos into her cold hands.

Nesta mutters something that Cassian chooses not to hear, but relents and takes a sip from the thermos. It’s warm and perfect, and doesn’t do her any help in keeping alert. The drive turns steep and winding, and Nesta soon realizes that they’re moving away from town and deeper into the mountains. Her curiosity is stifled by her sleepiness, however, and soon she has to lean her head against the fogged window and close her eyes, succumbing to the gentle rhythm of the journey.

Sometime later, she feels the truck reverse into a complete stop. “Wait here,” Cassian says. She hears him unbuckle his seatbelt and get out of the truck, but is unwilling to open her eyes and give up the last few minutes of rest she has. Time blurs, and then there’s a knock on her window. Groggily, Nesta sits up as Cassian opens the passenger side door.

“C’mon,” he urges, reaching out to pick Nesta up by the waist and setting her down on the ground. Shivering in the freezing dawn air, she looks around at where Cassian has brought them.

They’ve parked on a familiar high lookout that overlooks the entire city. In the blue light of pre-dawn, the town reminds Nesta of a sleeping giant nestled deep in the valley. She’s never been here this early before.

Taking her hand, Cassian urges her around to the back of the truck, facing the lookout.

“Oh,” Nesta says when she finally sees. “Wow.”

The truck bed is decked out more than a Christmas tree. Pillows and heavy blankets decorate the space, and strings of lights are woven throughout the whole thing. Still holding her hand, Cassian helps her climb into the bed before following after her.

“It’s only a few minutes to dawn,” Cassian says once he’s settled beside her. “I almost thought we wouldn’t make it in time.”

“You did all of this…” she says slowly, “so we could watch the sunrise?”

“Pretty much,” he nods.

Nesta might be inexperienced in a lot of things, but even she can’t deny what this is. Platonic friends don’t make a date out of watching the sunrise together, especially not if said friends have recently shared a passionate kiss. This is a romantic move.

She freezes in her spot. She wasn’t prepared for this, and now Cassian’s shoulder is painfully close to her shoulder and she doesn’t know if she should lean in or move away.

Before she can decide, Cassian says, “Watch.”

She faces forward at Cassian’s command, relieved to have something to do. Because there over the rim of the valley, the gray-blue sky is coming awake with streaks of pink and gold.

At the sight of first light, a calming sensation floods Nesta. For a few minutes, she forgets Cassian, forgets the cold. There is only dawn and— peace. A peace she’s never felt in all the times she’s driven up here before.

Golden light halos the mountains and streams over to their small little truckbed. The sky is on fire just to greet them. Nesta releases a breath, in awe or relief she doesn’t know.

“Can’t run away now.”

Nesta whirls from the sunrise to face Cassian. “What do you mean?”

He’s watching her closely. “You know, the last time I felt like this was during a certain fall festival.”

She glances away at the admission. “Right,” she mutters.

“What about you?” he nudges patiently. “Did you feel anything at the festival?”

Yes. A lot of things.

“Look,” Nesta starts. She’s about to turn him away when the sudden urge to be honest overtakes her. Something about the morning sun demands truth and vulnerability from her, and she wants to give it.

“I haven’t kissed anybody in forever,” she admits. “It was… a lot. In a very good way, at least in the moment.” She’s not sure of what she’s saying.

“Is it not good anymore?” For once, Cassian looks incapable of teasing her. Like he’s terrified of saying the wrong thing and scaring her away.

Nesta shakes her head quickly. “No, no, it’s still good. It’s just— confusing. The implications of kissing your roommate is confusing.”

Are friends who kiss each other just supposed to jump into relationships right afterward? Nesta can’t even comprehend such a thing. After all, wanting Cassian isn’t the same thing as wanting a relationship.

He chews on his lip for a long moment. “Nothing has to happen,” he finally says. “We don’t have to do anything now, or even ever. But can we at least admit that there’s something there? Because I definitely feel something for you. I have for a long time.”

That last sentence is quieter, and Nesta stiffens at the honesty of it. “Then why are you telling me just now?”

“It’s real now.”

He doesn’t have to explain what he means. She knows the feeling all too well— how the vague crush she was nursing for weeks got blown into something intense and tangible in the span of a night. How she can’t go anywhere now without tasting Cassian in her mouth.

“It’s real for me, too,” Nesta breathes.

His face breaks into a slow smile. “Good to know.”

Before Nesta can think about whether they’ll kiss again or not, Cassian tugs at her elbow, pulling her downward until they’re both laying on their backs among the pillows and blankets. He shuffles around for a bit, and then a fur throw is tossed over both of their bodies.

He turns to face her under the new warmth with a smirk. “So, was this worth getting up early for?”

Nesta looks up at the sky so she doesn't have to meet his bright eyes. “It’s better than any other time I’ve come here, that’s for sure.”

Cassian perks at that. “You’ve been here before?”

Nesta frowns. She doesn’t want those memories intermingling with this moment.

“I used to come here a lot,” she says bluntly. “In my undergrad days, to think and stuff.”

“Think about what?” he asks.

She closes her eyes, remembering. “Whether I should leave my boyfriend or not. Whether I was on the right career path or not. Whether I should drive off the lookout or not.”

Cassian huffs a laugh and then pauses at her tone. “Wait— are you serious?”

“About which part?”

“The last one.”

Nesta realizes how that came off. “It wasn’t like that,” she defends. “I was just… very tired all the time. I wanted a way out of it. I didn’t need to drive off a cliff, though.” Her mouth purses. “I just needed to cut some people out of my life. I got a lot better after that.”

Cassian is quiet for a long moment, thinking. “Did your ex make you feel like that?”

It’s Nesta’s turn to be quiet. “Yeah,” she says eventually.

“He sounds like a piece of shit.”

She raises her brows. “How do you know that?”

Cassian shrugs. “You said he didn’t like you while you were dating. That’s all I need to know.”

She’s surprised he even remembers her telling him that.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better though,” he says.

“Me too.”

The whole sky is brightened by now, and far below, people start waking up to go about their day. “What about you?” Nesta speaks up. She realizes they never talk about him, not really. “What were your exes like?”

Cassian hums. “I don’t really have any exes.”

Nesta makes a face. “What does that mean?”

He shrugs. “It means I’ve never had a real girlfriend.”

She looks at him like he’s insane. “You’ve never had a girlfriend?” With that face and body and personality? He’s playing another joke on her.

“It’s not that big of a deal. I’ve had lots of hookups, some longer than others, but none of them involved serious feelings.” He seems to realize what this means. “Actually,” he says quickly, “let’s talk about something else.”

“No.” Nesta sits up. “I want to know more.”

Cassian follows her up. “You didn’t even want to acknowledge our kiss less than ten minutes ago!”

She holds up a hand, her mind full of too many revelations at once. “So you’ve never been in love? Or come close to being in love?”

“Have you?”

“For a short time, yes,” Nesta nods. How else would she have stayed with Tomas for so long?

Cassian must realize what she means, because he clenches his jaw and looks away. “Well, I haven’t. I might have had a crush or two on my friends in high school, but I outgrew them quick enough.”

Nesta lets this new information sink in, feeling her perspective of Cassian shifting permanently. “And where do I fit in? In all of this?”

He props his elbows on his knees, lips turned downward. “I never thought about it until you made it sound so important. I thought neither of us knows what we’re doing.”

Nesta scoffs. “I never said I know what I’m doing.”

He nods thoughtfully. “Can we leave it at that, then? Take things slow while we figure out—” He waves an arm between them. “You know.”

There aren’t words for Nesta’s relief. Here she was worried she’d be pushed into something she wasn’t ready for, when Cassian is really just as lost as she is. For once, she doesn’t feel like he has the upper hand. For once, she’s not the extraneous variable.

She clears her throat. “Hey, Cassian?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you for fixing my glasses.” The words have been sitting in her stomach since the morning after the festival. “And for the painting.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

***

Nesta’s first paycheck arrives the week before Thanksgiving.

“Wow,” she says for the third time in three minutes, gaping at the account balance on her phone. “That’s a lot of numbers.”

She didn’t keep track of how many hours she worked for Night Court Inc. this month, but she knows it wasn’t enough to justify this amount of money. It’s enough to pay for her car and endo treatments and then some.

She can’t remember the last time she had this much extra money to spend. She doesn’t think she ever did.

Cassian comes up behind her in the kitchen and peeks over her shoulder. He whistles lowly at the deposit amount, but ruffles her hair and beams proudly. “First paycheck. What are you gonna use it for?”

Nesta stares at the number on her phone screen and knows what she wants. She’s wanted— needed— it for a while, but her talks with Cassian have helped her realize… “I’m getting a therapist.”

***

a/n: hey everybody, i'm popping in to kindly ask y'all to be patient with the slower updates from now on, because i know exactly where i want this story to go but i don't want to rush the journey. i also want time to work on other fics and my original wips in the new year, and i can’t do that unless i lower some of the expectations for these fic updates. that being said, i’m so unbelievably grateful for all your support up until now!!! i don’t want you to feel forgotten. i’m very much still involved with and working on this story, and the good stuff is just about to begin! up next: the holidays bring about some revelations for everybody.

taglist: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @sensitiveillyrian @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01

[bitch-butter]

(Modern!AU Webgott idea. Longish? Will eventually be called true bluish light. Tell me if this is interesting lol

Rated C for mentions of Joe's poor COVID protocol)

* * *

The blackout curtains that hung over the single window in the somewhat narrow bedroom were intensely effective, shrouding the occupants of the bed in a heavy darkness that even the daylight outside could not permeate. The still potent smell of sex lingered over the room, sweat and saliva and everything else casting a gross and homey aroma over the rumpled sheets and discarded clothing along the floor. Just around the edges of the curtain was a thin, white glow, but beyond that absent suggestion of light the room remained dark and still, as though nobody was there at all.

Pulling in a deep breath, Joe admitted he really shouldn’t have been there.

Shouldn’t have stayed the night, at least, if anything for the sake of his own reputation. He’s not typically one to go full spoons with a stranger (or, practically a stranger) no matter how good the sex had been, and he’s definitely never been one to spend the night somewhere that is not his bed. He’s spent years crafting his bed, has read actual magazine articles about how to create the best, most comfortable space, and after many years of hard work he is lucky enough to have created what many have called the Coziest Place in America. Suffice it to say, he does not like to spend a night in someone else's bed and he doesn’t think he needs to apologize for it.

This bed isn’t the worst, though.

And the guy that came with it wasn’t the worst either, he had to say. Joe had been ready to delete the app that led him to this guy and his bed, but it’s funny what a ‘ping’ on a lonely Friday night after nearly a year of no sex could do. Turns out that celibacy has made him into a fucking cuddler.

He’s not all that sorry about it. Keeping his distance from contact with other humans has handily prevented him from catching COVID thus far, and not everybody in his circle can say the same thing, as Tab had caught it first out of all of them via an ill-timed jaunt to Miami and Lip had had it twice now by virtue of his shoddy lungs and over-eagerness to lend a hand to people in his building. But a year is long, and half a bottle of cold Kim Crawford accomplished a lot at diminishing his capacity to give a shit about anything other than getting some attention on his dick. As long as the guy had sworn he tested negative, which he had, and Joe himself had tested negative, which he was, he saw no reason not to waltz into a total strangers apartment to merrily screw for as long as they both could stand to.

And it turns out this guy can stand a lot.

Joe has to admit at least half the reason he spent the night was that he actually was exhausted by the sheer voracity of their fucking. They oughta hand out medals for this shit, or something.

He finds himself smiling as he lets his mind wander over their earnestly passionate exploits of just a few hours past, and proceeds to let his eyes linger on the form of his companion. Though the room outside the warm enclosure of the blankets is a little cool the guy has one bare leg stretched out along the sheets, pressed up tightly against Joe’s own blanketed legs, with the remaining covers bundled against his chest. Resting mostly sideways on his belly, his face is turned towards Joe in sleep, mashed into the pillows and yet somehow managing to look as effortlessly gorgeous as he had looked in his photos on the app. His body moves with deep breaths, the steady inhale and exhale in combination with the sheltering warmth of the blanket nearly lulling Joe back to sleep.

Nearly.

He needed to get up, at the very least to find his phone and check the time. As carefully as he could he extracted his body from the tangle of covers, stepping lightly onto the carpet with his eyes on the other guy's face all the while, mindful not to disturb him. The night before he hadn’t even bothered to check his messages before passing out, and as such headed straight for the amorphous blob of his pants that rested just a foot away from the bed, crouching and reaching into his back pocket to grab his phone.

He hadn’t told Babe where he was going, as he’d only gathered the stones to go circa 11p.m. and he figured Babe was either asleep or performing his Getting Ready to Fuck routine and wouldn’t want to be disturbed. He almost feels sorry for Babe, who had loved the idea of dating a future doctor until this year when the sexiness of it was side-swiped by the actual danger the position entailed. As such, the Getting Ready to Fuck routine had an extra layer of manic energy to it, and Joe knew better than to try and pull Babe’s attention away from the hours preceding Gene’s rare, rare, rare visits to the apartment.

Even so, the amount of message icons he was presented with was unexpected to say the least.

He raised his eyebrows, nearly humming in interest as he noted the time. Jesus Christ, these blackout curtains are really worth their salt if it was nearly noon.

Tapping into his messages, he found a trickle of anxiety rolling down his spine.

FRI AT 11:42PM

Babe

Hey where r u?

I gotta talk to you

SAT AT 12:00AM

Babe

Are you coming back?? Srs need to talk

Feb 5 12:00AM

Missed call/Mobile

Babe

SAT AT 12:02AM

Gene Roe

Hi Joe, it’s Gene. idk if i gave you my number?

Trying to get a hold of you, call/text when you get a chance

Thanks

SAT AT 12:20AM

C h u c k

Babe is trying to find you

Feb 5 12:30AM

Missed call/Mobile

Babe

SAT AT 12:50AM

Speirs Ron

Why am i getting texts at 12:45 at night asking me to find you?

Well, something is fucking happening. And he’s at least 100% sure he wants no fucking part of it because any drama that starts after 11p.m. is the drama of the goddamn devil.

Fighting not to heave an enormous sigh, Joe reluctantly acknowledges that he should pull his clothes on and get out of here if there really is an emergency in the vicinity of his roommate. Looking back over his naked shoulder Joe tries to catch a glance at the guy in the bed, at the length of his bare leg in the semi-darkness, and the angle of his shoulder protruding from the blankets where he curled. He’d happily get back in that bed and go another round or five.

As though alerted to Joe’s presence by the cosmos, his phone begins buzzing in his hand. Huffing in annoyance, he attempts to reject the call at least until he can get out of the room, but throws himself off kilter and bangs his elbow into the bedside table, jostling a glass of water and a pile of paperbacks.

“Shit,” he curses, grasping at his elbow and shooting a glance back to the guy, whose eyes are already open and alerted to the noise.

Damn it.

The guy blinks slowly, bleary, for a moment before pulling his face from his pillows and angling up onto his side. “Hi,” he greets softly, running a hand through his mussed hair.

“Hi,” Joe nods back, grimacing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

The guy shakes his head, looking for all intents and purposes like he means it. “Not at all,” he sniffs, meeting Joe’s eyes in the darkness with a still-sleepy smile. “What time is it?”

“Oh man, it’s like noon.”

Furrowing his brow, the guy nods back before shooting Joe a wry smile. “We tired ourselves out, huh?”

Joe laughs, seeing his phone light up in his hand with a new message. “Speak for yourself.”

At the interested quirk of the other man’s brow Joe hastily gives a shake of his head and stands. “I’ll get out of your hair quick, no worries, just be a minute.”

The guy frowns, sitting up in the bed to let the blankets pool around his hips, hands coming to rest between his legs. “Oh, well, don’t feel like you have to.”

Joe pauses, pants in hand. “Oh, it’s not -”

“I mean, if you want to go then for sure, but like…” the guy waves a hand, pursing his lips before smiling and coughing out a laugh. “Are you hungry? I have eggs, I can make you something before you go.”

He hesitates, eyes pivoting from the guy, to his phone still in his hand, and back to the guy and his open, expectant face. After a moment, he clears his throat. “You know, I could eat.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I could, could you?”

The guy smiles, and even in this mostly dark room Joe can see he has dimples and has to hold himself back from practically swooning, cursing his half-drunk self of the night prior for not remembering exactly how attractive this guy was. “I could use some coffee, is what I can use,” he says, stretching his arms over his head, and Joe is treated to the sight of his bare, bitten up chest. Usually he doesn’t take much notice of his partner's body hair, but as he lets his eyes trace over the guy's chest and legs as he moves to stand he finds himself clearing his throat and getting a little warm along his neck.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” he responded distractedly, pulling his eyes away from the luscious sight of the guy's ass as he bends to retrieve his underwear and instead moving to put his own on. After a second thought he pulls on his shirt as well; might do him some good if he finds himself flushing up at just a glimpse of this guy's ass.

As he slips his shirt over his head, the guy turns to him with a bit of a sheepish look on his face. “Can I admit something?” he asks, lips scrunched.

Joe pauses, still grasping the hem of his shirt. “What?”

“I…” he starts, before chuckling somewhat awkwardly. “I don’t totally remember your name...”

A fair bit of relief surges through him at that, and Joe finds himself huffing out a laugh of his own, and adds another one at the half-embarrassed and half-expectant smile the guy gives him. “Can I admit something back?”

“What?”

“I don’t remember yours either.”

The guy's eyes widen minutely, before he tips his head back and laughs, nodding gently as he rubs a hand over his face. “Is it bad manners to say that’s a relief?”

“I think it’s alright as long as neither of us care,” Joe said, pushing his hair back, before stepping up to the guy and extending a hand. “I’m Joe.”

The guy grasped his hand in a sure grip. “David,” he replied with a little shake of their hands, before leaning in and pressing a dry kiss to Joe’s cheek. “Nice to meet you.”

Joe turned his face into David’s, catching his lips in a tender, if chaste, kiss. “Nice to meet you.”

[deberiaestarescribiendo]

Desperate situations call for desperate measures. #Writer Wednesday 21/04/21

Pairing: Dave York x F!reader

Summary: You're desperate, with nothing to lose you accept helping one of your friends in what looks to be a very dubious job and the man in charge intimidates you and owns every single one of your thoughts since you met him

Warnings: I mean is Murder daddy Dave 🤷‍♀️. Blood, violence, guns, swearing, descriptions of anxiety and panic and sexual innuendo. Nothing too graphic but let me know if I should note anything else, thanks

A/N: I blame my national public TV channel for broadcasting The Equalizer 2 a few weeks ago, now I have THOTS and reading many amazing Fanfics on this site it's making it worse. Another Pedro's character I'm fascinated by (and would gladly be railed by). This is my second piece for #Writer Wednesday thank you for this again @autumnleaves1991-blog 🤗 I’m super excited to read what everybody has prepared for this week. No beta’d, sorry for any misspelling and terrible grammar.

Everything that could go wrong went wrong.

Suddenly you’re walking with a pair of stupid high heels in a cold muddy path, there’s nothing but a few street lamps but this white fog surrounds the night like a thick cape blocking their light so you can see nothing, even the moon is invisible and above you there’s an only a dark immensity without stars.

Fuck, fuck, fuck you repeat trembling, this stupid silky dress and the thin shawl you wear doesn’t protect you for this freezing night. Stupid fucking dress, stupid fucking heels you mutter, your teeth chatter and you try to focus on the road and finding anything that could get you out of here without getting yourself killed. Your shoes appear to have heard your complaints when they snap and break and you almost fall down.

“FUCK!” you scream this time and instantly regretting it, you don’t know who could be listening. Now you can walk faster but the probability to lose one or a few of your toes is getting higher every minute that you expend walking barefoot through this dreadful place.

As an apparition, a miracle, you see a dim white light at the end of the road. You run, you could even smile if your face muscles were not frozen. You feel your tears forming warm trickles on your cheeks when you arrive to the phone booth. You haven’t use one in years, even thought they were extinct but now it is as if you had found God.

You open your small red velvet purse, so pathetically small that your phone couldn’t fit in it so you gave it to Tom, and now what? It’s inside his pocket, probably soaked in his blood. Soaked in blood of your dead friend. You stupid friend that got you into this situation on the first place.

“Whatever happens, if everything goes to shit, call this number” he had told you giving you a white card, a number and a name on it: Dave.

Your hands shake so much that you almost drop the card, but you place it on the small tray full of vulgar vocabulary and very graphic drawings inside the booth. You thank karma or whatever it’s up there that all your cards got cancelled last month and recently you relay on cash. A few quarters and cents, a few bills that you had stolen on your way to the club where you were supposed to do the jobwere all you had on your name now. And the rest, what you had saved, your clothes and the few luxuries you own; a book, an old picture and a plant, are gone, forever, they’re at Tom’s house and you know now that he’s dead and has botched the job you could never return to his home if you want to keep being alive. You stretch your fingers and take a deep breath before dropping the coins and dialing the number.

Please pick up, please pick up

You see the counter on the small screen eating your coins away. And you don’t have anything else

Please, please

“York”

his voice is deep, a slight tone of annoyance in it, logically because you’re calling at 2 AM

“Dave?”

“Yes, who’s this?” you shudder hearing him, you convince yourself it’s because you’re cold but you know it’s not. You’re thinking of the man that owns this velvety voice: brown dark eyes piercing you as if you were made of paper and he could read every little corner and secret that you keep

“I’m Tom’s friend, he’s dead, and now I’m on the middle of nowhere and I need help, please” you plea, your last words sound more like a little girl whimpers

“I’m on my way” and he hangs up

You’re left there looking even more scared and confused. You recoil to the small protection of the booth waiting for that man. That man that lurks in your dreams, that scares you and intrigues you and that has occupied every thought since you met him.

A week ago

“So, explain to me again, what are we doing?”

“You need the money or not?” Tom stops and confronts you in the middle of the road

“I need it, of course, but I want to know what I’m getting myself into before ending up dead or in jail” you say not moving until he is a little clearer

“We’re meeting with one of my boss’ men and he will give us something to hand to someone else in a place and a time they had accorded. And that’s it. You and I get paid and everybody’s happy” he says with a desperate smile “C’mon” he approaches you and squeeze gently your arms, he even bends a little to meet your gaze “you know I have many friends and I have proposed this to you, only you, haven’t I? Cos I trust you” he adds

“Because I’m fucking broke, Tom. The rest of your friends wouldn’t be as desperate as me” You blurt

“Okay, let’s meet him and if it doesn’t convince you, I’ll do it alone. C’mon, let’s not be late, he would not like that”

You nod reluctantly. You hope this dude would pay for lunch, you’re starving, you had some instant noodles last night and today your breakfast was the crumbs of cereals that Tom had left because he was too lazy to throw away the box.

The restaurant is clearly not made for people like you and Tom, the employees look at you up and down but when they’re about to kick you out, a big man approaches them and he guides you to a part of the local that is quite with a warm and intimate light. There’re a few tables but they’re all empty, the last one is occupied by a well-dressed man that looks at the both of you intently.

Your first thought is that he doesn’t look as you had expected. You were sure that Tom was involved with drug dealers and whatever the job entitled was about drugs, weapons or both. He looks like a middle-age business man, or a public agent. He wears a tailored dark gray suit, an elegant wool coat and he’s clean shaven, elegant shoes, expensive, you think. God, make him be nice enough so he pays for lunch

When you face him, although you stay behind Tom, your theories about the man crumble. His eyes, those dark brown orbs, are fixed at Tom and his defined jaw clenches, in a second his eyes are on you and you can’t stand his gaze much longer.

“Hi, Dave, I didn’t know I would be seeing you, I thought I’d be meeting Resnik as usual” Tom voice is high and shaky, so it confirms your thoughts; the man is dangerous even if he doesn’t look like it

“This is important, and you came accompanied” he tilts his head to you

“I thought this was a job for two” Tom takes a sit in front of him and Dave leans on his seat stretching his shoulders, he’s broad, strong, how did you think this man was no threat at all?

“You thought” he smirks and you freeze on your feet, is it too late to run away? “And what’s your name?”

You tell him, your voice sounds pathetic, a little too squeaky. He smiles and wet his lips with the tip of his tongue and suddenly every coherent thought that you could think is out of the window.

“Please take a sit” Dave appears to be a little bit more relax now, he crosses his hands over the table and smiles to the two of you “So why do you think you could be of service?”

“Well, it’s a club, a guy alone is usually a creep but if we go together we’re a couple, and they wouldn’t look at me if I’m with her” he chuckles and points at you

You open your mouth about to insult Tom and seeing that his intentions could be way more different that you thought. You’re not doing that kind of job

“Yeah” Dave agrees and looks at you up and down, he doesn’t avert his eyes when you look at him with you eyebrow raised. He’s not ashamed, he’s checking you out and he wants you to know it “It’s actually not a bad plan”

“I’m sorry, but whatis the plan?” you interrupt

“It’s simple, you and your boyfriend...”

“He’s not my boyfriend” you clarify

“Right” he seems to think about that for a few seconds, before he resumes the conversation “You two go to this club, there, you’ll meet the contact and you’ll give them this” he raises his hand and the big man that had previously taken you to the table gives him a black briefcase “There’re two things that are extremely important” He pushes the case towards you “one, you cannot open it and see what’s inside, I’ll know if you do. Two, whatever happens you must acquire the envelope that the contact would give to you in exchange for this”

“Consider it done, Dave” Tom reaches for the man and gently taps on his arm. You watches as the man tenses when he’s touched and if looks could kill...Tom would be dead on the ground in this very second

“I’m sorry, can I ask you a question?” you raise your hand and the tense moment passes when Dave looks at you and he’s smiling, actually a very warm smile

“Of course”

“You said whatever happens, what could happen? Who are we meeting?” you ask, Tom opens widely his eyes and kicks you under the table

“Don’t worry Tom, they are actually pretty good questions” when he switches his eyes to Tom, he’s back to that opaque stare that makes you tremble “I’m not going to lie to you, sweetheart” he sighs, the endearing term has made your belly turn and it’s not hunger, at least not the food type “this people are dangerous, and they could try to trick you into changing the terms of the agreement, or ask questions about me or any other thing, and you must stay put and seal the deal fast and easy. Don’t do anything stupid”

“Right... what’s inside the case?” you ask again, you try really hard not to avert your eyes, he has his eyes fixed on you, his gaze goes from your eyes to your lips and you squirm on your seat.

“I cannot tell you that” he shakes his head “but it’s something valuable, you have to be very careful with it”

“If we are caught by the police with that” you point to the briefcase “are we gonna be in trouble?”

He smirks and crosses his arms over his chest; you cannot prevent your eyes from admiring how the fabric of his clothes tenses around his muscles.

“You don’t have to worry about the police” he assures

“I feel you’re telling us not to worry about many things and I think it’s on the contrary we have too many things to worry about...with all due respect” you add, Tom kicks you harder this time and giggles nervously

“It’s your first time, it’s natural! I’ve done a few times, you don’t have to worry, you’ll be with me! right, Dave?” Tom slaps him on his shoulder again playfully and the man flinches and has a menacing look if you do it one more time, asshole, we’re going to die right here right now you think

“Right” he answers “Tom, why don’t you go with Kovac to the car you’ll use for the job, there you’ll have the phones and everything you’ll need to complete the mission” he says eventually. The big man, Kovac, approaches the table and stands besides Tom until he gets up to follow him.

You stand up too, thinking that the lunch is over.

“Stay, please” Dave grabs your wrist softly and you gasp when you feel his warm touch

“I-I” you stutter

“Don’t you want to eat anything? I sense you have more questions” he doesn’t let go of your hand, he brushes his fingers softly where you skin is thinner and you feel your pulse rushing, surely he does too

“Yes...I mean I could eat something” you sit, the rumbling on your belly confirms your hunger

“Order anything you want” he stands up and raises a hand towards a waitress. She rushes to the table with the menus while Dave takes off his coat and jacket, he raises his sleeves carefully and you are not aware that you’ve been staring at him the whole time with eyes wide open and lips partially parted, you’re completely dumb by his presence. He’s tall, strong and broad and you can’t smell his cologne and his aftershave from there and all you can think is coming closer to him and tasting his neck.

You look down the menu suddenly when you find that Dave has caught you admiring him and is smiling slyly at you.

“Anything you like?” he asks

“Yeah...I’d like...” you read as fast as you can trying to find something, the prices are ridiculous “the salad” you answer

“You can order anything, sweetheart” the term makes you skin tingle again, he’s voice is actually sweet and his smile docile this time when he sits again facing you

The waitress comes back and asks for your order but it’s smiling widely to Dave.

“So what you would like to order, sir?”

“We’re both getting the prime steak” he answers and you blush, of course you’d like to eat that but it’s so freaking expensive you didn’t even think about that

“Fries or roasted vegetables?” she taps on the screen

“Both” yes, you cheer inside your head, you’re going to eat properly for the first time in months

You actually don’t care about the job or Dave or anything when the plate arrives, and certainly you have forgotten about your friend, it’s been long enough but the scent of the meat makes your mouth water. You have forgotten your manners too; you attack the steak as if you were a caveman. The pleasure of the first bite makes you moan and wiggle or your seat.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Dave comments and you’re suddenly aware of where you are and with whom, he has an amused look

“Thank you” you say with your mouth full

“It’s nothing”

“I looked that hungry, huh? that’s why you ordered this?”

“Yes, you seemed to need a bit of protein. Protein makes you brain function properly and I need you sharp and quick if you’re going to work for me” he says picking from his plate

“You think I will work for you, I mean for longer than just this one job?” you scoff, you’re desperate, but you want to keep on the good track, find a proper job, a small apartment and stay out of trouble

“You don’t want to? I think you need the job” he licks his lips and you are again looking longer than you should

“Yes, but I need a proper job, a salary each month a conventional one. No offence”

“None taken. So you’re not like your friend”

“No, I guess I’m not. I’m just in a rough patch. Desperate situations calls for desperate measures” You shrug

“Hmm” he hums “I’m glad I can help you out of it then” he adds

“Yes, thank you. Though I’m still thinking that it could get me more trouble than I already have” you counter

“No if you’re smart and I think you’re a pretty smart girl”

“You’ve just met me”

“I’m good at reading people, part of the job” he shrugs

“So I’m a hungry desperate smart girl. Seems accurate”

“Pretty” he completes

“What?” you ask thinking you had heard him wrong

“I said you’re a hungry―I hope not anymore― desperate, pretty comma smart girl. Pretty as an adjective” he clarifies

You blush and look at him opening and closing your mouth searching for words

In that moment, Kovac and Tom arrive. The large man nods to Dave, and Tom looks at you and your half empty plate with a confused look.

“I have to go, but please, sit and finish your dish, you can order whatever you want too, Tom. Everything is on me. You don’t have to worry” Dave stands up and puts his jacket and coat back. You think you see a little bit of disappointment on his face. He reaches his hand to you, you drop the fork thinking that he wants to shake your hand but he brushes his thumb over your lower lip where a drop of the meat’s blood and sauce stains your chin.

“It’s been a pleasure” he says and then licks his thumb. He goes before you can answer and Tom is talking to you but you don’t listen.

All you could think was him, repeating that moment again and again in your mind.

“Are you listening?”

“Huh?”

“I told you about the car they gave us. It’s pretty cool”

You smile and focus on your plate, the juicy meat is delicious but all that passes through your brain is his lips. You bite and moan loudly.

Two hours before the phone booth call

The club is actually a house, a clandestine local in a remote place full of people playing poker and other types of game betting more money than you’ve ever seen. You and Tom arrive there holding hands, his left hand holding the briefcase. Tom had bought you your outfit, high heels that you don’t know how to walk with, a very revealing dress and the idiot forgot you hadn’t a proper coat to wear with this and here you are in the middle of winter with a shawl. Luckily the place is warm enough and you just suffered during the time you run to the entry from the parking.

The establishment smells like alcohol and cigars, its red velvet walls reminds you of the interior of a coffin and that image makes you shiver. You try not to look at anybody and focus on following Tom to the black armored door at the back. When you arrive he knocks twice before a small slot opens and a man asks for a password.

“Just like spy movies, huh?” Tom smiles and you would laugh but you’re terrified. Once that door closes behind you, there’s no way out

A large man dressed in black escort you through a red lighted aisle towards another armored door. This time he’s the one knocking twice, the slots opens and when a pair of eyes look through it you hear the locks being unlocked before they open it.

There’re ten people inside, chatting over a black table with some glasses on it. The conversation stops when you enter. Without a sign some of them are escorted out and only three men stay.

“Sit please, your girl can serve herself a drink” one man says, sitting at the center of the table. He’s dressed also in black, he’s blond hair sleek and shiny with hair gel “I guess you have something for me”

“Yes” Tom approaches the table and places the briefcase at the center. You do as you’ve been told and approach the bar full of different drinks. You’re too nervous to drink but you grab one of the empty glasses and pour some liquor in it. Your back is pressed against the sticky wood and you try to act casual.

The second man on the left takes it and opens it and shows it to the two other. There’s only one light in the room above the table and from here you can’t see much but it’s clear that the briefcase is full of money.

“Excellent. Did you know how much there is inside it?” the blond man ask Tom

“No” Tom seems relaxed, his arm leans on his chair and has his legs crossed

“There’s half a million here” he answers

“Wow!” Tom laughs

“For such a tiny thing” the man grabs something from his pocket and places a small white envelope on the table “Do you know what this is?”

“No”

And we don’t want to know you answer in your head Gosh Tom, let’s go

“Just an address. Somebody really valuable for your boss, look how much he’s paying. This poor fellow” he taps over the envelope “it’s nobody to me, that’s why I’m willing to trade this simple information knowing it will get him killed, but I have another deal for you, one that I’m really interested in”

Say no, no, we have to go now you clear your throat to get his attention but Tom ignores you

“You just have to let us track you to the place where you’ll meet your boss. And you can take the case back with you and I promise one similar to this one will find you once we kill your boss” he offers. Tom bites the inside of his cheek and hums

“Just track me?”

No, no, no you scream inside. You place the glass on the bar loudly but Tom is fixed with hungry eyes on the case.

“Let us install a simple tracking device to your car. And take this” he pushes the open briefcase “it’s yours”

Tom smiles and grabs it “Thank you”

“My colleague will accompany you to your car” the blonde man smiles back and the other man that reminded silent during the meeting gets up to follow Tom back to the car.

You walk to the table before they leave.

“I’m sorry, but he’ll need the envelope for the meeting. He cannot present himself empty handed, he will be dead before you could find his boss and they will make sure it’s the right one” you say shyly

“You’re a smart girl” the blond says “Here you are” he tends the paper and you force a smile.

You rush towards Tom and grab his hand. The man follows you a few meters away in silence. So you grab Tom by the waist and faking a smile whispers to his ear “What the fuck are you doing? Dave is going to kill us. You betrayed him”

“It’s a million dollars and they can take care of Dave for all I know he can die, he was paying a misery and I’m the one getting my ass in danger, don’t I?” he says back

“It’s better than being dead. And he’s going to kill us both and I did nothing, you betrayed me too”

“Calm down! I’m going to give you a part of this. Isn’t this what you wanted?” He has to raise his voice over the music once you arrive to public part of the club

“I didn’t want to die, I just want money to start again, not being involved in killing people and shit” you accused back

“Yeah right and it has nothing to do with you making eyes to Dave during lunch. Gosh, you’re pathetic. Shut up, take the money, and we will see each other never again” he pushes you from him clearly not caring to keep the being a couple front anymore.

When you arrive to the parking, Tom leaves the briefcase on the back seat. You stand a few meters away not knowing what to do. Tom is the only way out from here but you don’t want to participate in his treason.

“Open the driver’s door” the man says standing behind Tom

“Right away, brother”

Everything happens in an instant. You hear the gasp, the air leaving Tom’s body and his corpse hitting the ground more than the shot. Once the man raises the gun to you, you’re already running away.

You hear the bullets breaking the air and you run faster, tears running from your eyes but your bite your lips to prevent you from crying out loud knowing that he can hear you. Once your chest hurts and burns you stop, hidden in the tall grass you listen intently trying to know if he’s following you. And you wait. And you wait more.

You crouch down and you suddenly remember that you’re holding so hard to your purse and the little piece of paper that your hand hurts. You hold the envelope to your heart and sit on the cold mud because your legs cannot hold you any longer.

Present. Phone Booth

You think about the trip from town to this place and try to calculate how long it would take Dave to arrive. And it’s long and probably you’ll be dead before he comes even close. The men from the club must be looking for you. You’re a loose end, you know their faces and their place, everything. And you know Dave too. Shit.What are you going to tell him? Yes, Tom betrayed you but I didn’t. I actually didn’t want to do it, but did I prevent it? I couldn’t but what would he think? You’re a loose end for him too.

You know he runs shady business. And for all he knows you wanted to take the money as well and just was quicker on your feet so you ran away. He doesn’t know you; he knew Tom and he betrayed him. How could he trust you?

You need something, something to make him think you are true, that you didn’t betray him. And though you felt something in your little lunch together, he could just be playing with you or interested in a carnal way. God knows you had had very inappropriate thoughts about him too, but that doesn’t make you any less of a traitor. Pretty he said, pretty enough to be kept alive even though he doesn’t know if he can trust you? You don’t think so.

Whatever happens you must acquire the envelope he had said. So you open it. There’s a simple address on it:

8518 Rayburn Rd, Bethesda, MD 20817

So you expend the rest of the time repeating again and again. Until the pair of lights of the car appear through the fog. You hope it’s Dave and not the men from the club If it’s so I’ve expended my last moments alive memorizing a stupid address. Great.

The black car drives slowly until it’s a few meters away. You grab the paper and make a ball out of it and swallow it fast chewing hard. It’s horrible, raspy and muddy, but you know that throwing it wouldn’t do it as well as tear it apart. The paper needs to disappear; you must be indispensable to him.

You actually cry in relief when Dave calls your name and you run towards the lights. You actually don’t think your action but when you see his shape you run faster and hug him tightly. He’s warm and smells delicious as you noticed at the restaurant. He tenses at first but then he holds you back, gently patting your head and hushing you with calming noises.

“You’re alright, you’re safe now” you know it’s not actually true but in that second you enjoy it “Get in the car, you’re freezing” he caresses your arms up and down trying to warm you

When you get in the car, you feel as you have step inside the gates of heaven. It’s warm and cozy, the leather is the softest thing you have ever felt and everything smells like Dave. He gets in the driver’s seat and grabs something from the back: his wool coat and throws it over you and tucks you in it. He stays in silence for a few minutes and you feel yourself doze off when he speaks in a soft and low tone.

“So what happened?” he sighs and leans on his seat turning to you

“Tom was a fucking idiot” you spat and he grins “They offered him the money inside the briefcase for your location and promised him more money” you speak the truth, you know there’s no point in lying to him “He accepted and well, I didn’t know what to say, I tried to change his mind but it was too late”

“What happened to the envelope?” he asks

“I took it”

“Can you give it to me?” he reaches a hand and you see he’s wearing leather gloves, actually he’s completely dressed in black

“No” you say and you bite your lip

“You lost it?” he asks and you cannot read what’s going through his mind but his eyes are fixed on you, darker than you remembered

“No” you say

“You have to give it to me” he says and his voice gets lower, it should be menacing, it is, but you feel your lower belly twist

“I ate it” you answer

“You did what?” he looks surprise but you cannot tell if he’s mad or amused

“I remember the address” you take out one single finger from under the coat and point to your temple “I memorized it and ate it so you wouldn’t kill me”

Dave stays there in silence for a few minutes, and then smirks and chuckles

“Very good” he praises “You did very good” he reaches for you cheek and brushes his leather gloved hands tenderly “Good girl” his voice is low and deep and it makes you squirm under your cover, his coat, that smells just like him.

“You’re not going to kill me?” you murmur

“No, I cannot do it now, don’t I?” he smiles at you

“But what about when I tell you the address and you kill whoever lives there, what then?” you say, now that you’re warm enough you are aware of the mess you made of his car, mud stains everywhere, his coat is ruined “I’m a witness and now I know you’re about to kill somebody” you add

“You remember what I told you at the restaurant?” he asks and starts the car finally moving from this dreadful place

Yes, you called me sweetheart a couple of times and then called me pretty you want to answer

“I told you about working for me” he reminds you

“You want me to work for you?”

“Yes. I want it since I first met you, sweetheart” you actually surprise yourself once you feel that you’re smiling when he calls you that again

“You trust me? But Tom...”

“Tom was Tom, you are you. And I trust you to be smarter than he was. You have proved it to me, he failed the test he had to pass” you admire his strong big hands on the wheel and his straight posture that allows you to marvel at his features and his long neck

“What test?” you say after scolding yourself for looking at him like an idiot

“This test”

“This was a test? What?” you cry

“Not in the sense that it was prepared, of course. Those men were very much interested in me and my team, and I knew they were trying to get some of my men to turn. I have to test Tom before he entered the team for more complicated tasks, I had to know if he was ready, and he wasn’t”

“And why did you let me get in this?”

“That was his first mistake. Never ever” he points with his finger “tell another person about the job or try to get somebody on it without me asking first. I allowed it because I saw something in you. A hunger”

“Is that a joke?” you ask

“I guess” he smirks “but also true, you said it yourself ‘desperate situations call for desperate measures’ That was what got me on this kind of job on the first place. I liked you, I’d just hoped you were as smart as you looked and got out there alive. And you did”

“What if I don’t want it?” you mutter

“Hmm” he evaluates for a moment “Again, I hope you’re smarter than that and refuse the only chance you have. I mean, you have been evicted, all your accounts cancelled, you don’t have a family and the relatives that you still have you wouldn’t contact them even if you were dying, so, I’m the only thing you got, sweetheart”

“Did you investigate me?” you ask after a few quite minutes. He’s right, you know that

“Yes, I have to know everything if you’re going to be part of the team” he admits with a shrug

“I know nothing about you, or your team, how am I going to trust you?” you demur

“You will learn to trust me and the team once you’re trained” he explains

“Train? Who’s going to train me? and for what?”

“I’m going to train you. I’m going to train you until you’re what I want and what I need and in time; I think it will be a satisfying ending for both of us and this situation”

“What kind of job would I do?”

“Kill” he says simple and straightforward

You shiver at his words and hold tight to his coat. Do you really want to be an assassin? Do you have a choice?

He stops the car. You don’t have a house, you have nothing, only this, a dirty dress and a borrowed coat and the help of a man you’re sure could and would kill you without hesitation. And though, you have no choice there’s a side of you that’s dying to surrender to him, to let him make you what he wants. You desire to be his, you want to be what he wants, what he needs but not as his associate, not exactly like that.

“So what do you say? Do you want to be mine?” you squirm on your seat.

“Yes”

[spencers-renaissance]

Rain is a Chance to be Touched Ch.1

this arid world has turned my deep heart dry

This is the first chapter in my new ongoing hotchreid fic! Please click here for the fic summary, full tags, trigger warnings, more information etc.

Chapter Summary: follows S5E1 and Spencer's depression and disordered thinking is introduced.

TW: depression, disordered thinking, loneliness, the events of s5e1 (guns and knives)

Word Count: 3.4k

RCT Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Read on AO3

SPENCER

"She simply said this arid world has turned her deep heart dry, there was just one way she knew of to finally feel like she was free, and it was 1400 feet beneath the cold and stormy sea." — Erin Hanson

Spencer’s entire body feels heavy as he drags himself into work, and it’s not exactly a good sign when he can’t even find the energy to press the button for the right floor; he just stares pitifully at the array of numbers as if the elevator will read his mind and resolve the issue for him. Eventually, he brings himself to move his finger the short distance, cold metal colliding with cold flesh, and the doors shudder close, catapulting him up several storeys towards his fate.

Some might call the emotions Spencer’s experience typical burnout, far too common in the FBI and even more so in units that deal directly with horrific crime on the regular, but he knows it’s more than that. His entire life is operating in a minor key, he’s functioning entirely on auto-pilot, and chunks of his day are a blur, almost impossible to recall. He knows he’s depressed. Knowing such a fact, however, does little to cure the actual problem. He has no idea what to do with information like this except bottle it up and shove it as far down as possible while pretending as much as possible that absolutely everything is fine.

Emily and Derek are laughing about something as he approaches their group of desks. Only weeks ago he would’ve been crushed when they don’t so much as look over to say hello, but now he’s glad to not have to fake a smile, invent a story to tell about his weekend, pretend he’s not currently being held together with slowly peeling sellotape.

Instead, he focuses on feeling grateful that no one’s commented on him arriving a whole hour later than he used to as he unpacks his messenger bag. It’s not like it’s his fault he can’t pull his exhausted body out of bed in the morning, but since he’d rather not disclose such sorry information and finding an excuse is way too much effort, spending the morning in solitude seems the only option.

He doesn’t really understand how he’s gone from being a genuinely happy person, thick as thieves with everybody on the team, to this. It’s almost as though somebody’s cut the rope tying him to the others and now he’s drifting away, sinking without everyone else’s buoyancy to keep him afloat. He can see them all still tied together, barely seeming to notice their drowning team member, clearly not missing his presence.

This misery over his inevitable isolation, though, is his own fault: he can’t believe he let himself forget his place. He’s useful, good to keep around for his intelligence, his reading speed, his problem-solving skills, but it doesn’t go beyond that. Spencer is not friendship material. And he certainly isn’t relationship material.

The day starts off slow, everyone burying themselves in their paperwork, but Spencer finishes it far too quickly for it to really serve as much of a distraction. Depressingly, it’s still miles slower than he’s used to. Since his pile of consults seems too exhausting to even look at, he decides another coffee is very much in order.

“Hey, Spence,” JJ says happily as soon as he pushes his way into the breakroom. She’s leaning casually against the counter as she drinks her coffee, reading through what looks like case notes at the same time.

“Hi,” he says, trying for a smile but he knows there’s no way he could possibly match her relaxed grin. Instead of trying to converse, he just heads straight for the coffee machine, fixing his eyes on the steady stream of coffee pouring into his mug already piled high with sugar.

“You alright?” JJ asks, sounding a little suspicious. Not concerned, Spencer notes, just suspicious.

“Hmm?” He looks up and catches her eye before deciding he should probably answer verbally. “Yeah, yeah I’m good.”

“Are you sure? You’ve been acting a bit off the past few weeks.”

Spencer sighs. Maybe this is an opportunity to actually communicate his feelings. He doubts JJ will be able to help but really he’d just like a bit of comfort: he’s in so much pain that a hug would feel really nice right now. And besides Penelope, she’s probably the team member he’s most comfortable with. If he’s going to share with anybody, it should be JJ.

“I’ve been having a bit of a hard time, I guess,” he admits, looking up as his left-hand fidgets on the hot ceramic side of his coffee mug. He resents how vulnerable his voice sounds, he’s giving far too much of himself over to hands he’s not sure he can trust, but there’s nothing he can do about that now.

“Really?” JJ sounds surprised. Spencer recognises the tone as that of anyone who has a certain perspective on him realising that he also has feelings alongside his intelligence, and it hurts. “I’m sorry, Spence.”

Spencer just presses his lips into a thin line and nods awkwardly in thanks.

“I mean… at least you’re not going through what Hotch is,” she offers, completely unhelpfully. “He’s still trying to cope with his divorce and isn’t seeing Jack as much as he used to. Derek was almost killed by the Reaper just a few months ago, Emily only recently lost a childhood friend — I mean, the whole team has been through a lot. Keep your chin up.”

She smiles at him, patting him on the shoulder, before leaving the break room and heading back to her office, leaving Spencer standing in the middle of the room like an idiot. He wants to shout that he was literally poisoned with anthrax only a month ago, if they’re tallying bad things happening as a method of tracking who has the right to be miserable. The others might be going through a lot, that’s true, but it doesn’t lessen any of the pain thudding in his chest and stirring in his stomach.

As he walks back to his desk, he realises he’s learned one thing: opening up = not a good idea.

As completely fucking miserable as he might be, there’s exactly one person in this world who doesn’t deserve to be burdened with any of it, so he carefully tucks it away in his pockets and plasters on the mask he’d perfected so many years ago. It might be a little rusty, after all, it’s been little used in recent years, but it works just as well as it used to do when he pushes the door open to Penelope’s office.

“I bring blueberry muffins,” he says as cheerfully as he can muster, and something inside him does warm as Penelope’s face lights up, squealing a little as she reaches her arms out eagerly, making grabby hands at the paper bag he’s holding.

“Oh, you have no idea how much I love you,” she moans, keen to rip the bag open as he pulls up a chair next to hers.

“I think I do,” Spencer chuckles, and it’s one of the only genuine reactions he’s given in months, “mostly because you tell me every day.”

“Mm, that’s right,” she concedes through a mouthful of warm muffin, pointing a finger at his chest. “I love you even more than I love coding.”

“That’s a lot,” Spencer says, trying for serious but he can’t stop a fond smile slipping across his face.

Penelope swallows her rather large bite of blueberry muffin and passes him his one. “It is,” she says. “How are you, anyway? You look tired, poor baby.”

Spencer looks down for a moment, schooling his expression for a second before he forces himself to look back up at her. “Yeah, I didn’t… didn’t sleep well last night, I guess.” He tries for a reassuring smile but he knows it’s more of a grimace.

Penelope’s face immediately morphs into one of grave concern. Spencer knows that that’s just the way she is, melodrama and fierce protectiveness is virtually her brand at this point, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t any less agonising to see, or the anxiety of being found out any less paralysing. He decides not to give her any room to actually address it.

“I’ll be fine, Penelope, don’t worry,” he says, turning away to brush some muffin crumbs off the desk and into his hand, purely so he doesn’t have to attempt another pathetic smile. “A good night’s sleep tonight will fix me right up.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, still looking far too worried for Spencer’s liking.

“Of course, Pen.” He feels sick at lying to her, but he has no idea how to broach any of the tumultuous emotions raging inside of him, especially after JJ shut him down so brutally. “It’s only a bad nights’ sleep.”

He’s saved from her inevitable continued line of questioning by Emily poking her head round the door and asking for Spencer’s opinion on a consult.

While getting out of bed in the morning might be an almost impossible task at the moment, the idea of getting into it at night seems rather depressing, really. That’s probably the reason he’s still at the office, despite the time nearing 8 o’clock and exhaustion settling into every muscle fibre of his being. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that it’s just a little more time in close proximity to one Aaron Hotchner.

Of course, he’d had to accept the fact that he was maybe, just a little bit in love with his boss a long time ago. He just refuses to admit that he’s this embarrassing about it. Perhaps staying late to spend more time with someone you like this much wouldn’t be so weird if there was a reasonable chance of conversation — if he ever even saw him — but there isn’t even that: Spencer sits and works quietly at his desk, Aaron sits and works quietly in his office.

Today, though, today his lingering finally pays off.

Aaron is on his way back from the photocopier when he stops by Spencer’s desk. He doesn’t see him coming, though, is the thing: he has no time to try and make himself look even a smidge less miserable or to school his surprised yet utterly lovesick expression.

“Won’t you want to be heading off soon, Reid?” he asks, clearly curious as to why Spencer remains at his desk when there’s no real work to be doing, but he cleverly paints it in a light-hearted tone. Even though Spencer is completely aware of what Aaron’s doing, he doesn’t feel attacked or under pressure.

“Oh,” Spencer says unintelligently, stammering a little as he scrambles desperately at a somewhat coherent reply, “yes, yeah, I’ll get going soon.” He doesn’t want to lie when he doesn’t have to, so he doesn’t try and offer an explanation for his staying late, and he knows Aaron won’t push. He manages an almost entirely genuine smile, though, which must count for something, even if it’s only because he’s hopelessly in love with the man leaning casually against his desk.

“Right then,” Aaron says, offering a small smile in response, letting his hard exterior drop in the nearly empty office, and even though it’s nothing special, not really, Spencer carefully files it away as his heart pitter-patters against his ribcage and his stomach pools with warmth. “See you tomorrow, Reid.”

Spencer just nods in response and gathers his things, placing them carefully in his messenger bag and shrugging his jacket on before walking out of the building. When he glances back, just as he pulls the glass door open, Aaron is watching him carefully. He doesn’t turn away but instead offers a small wave, which Spencer returns bashfully, blushing scarlet in the elevator and on the walk out of the HQ and during the whole trek down the street and sat on the metro train and on the final stretch home. He fumbles with his keys and curses himself for being so goddamn pathetic.

He doesn’t consider it for long, though, because he’s utterly exhausted and his tired bones collapse on the sofa, and who is he to try and get them to move again? Sleep is a mercy.

🌧

The case is gruelling and stressful enough without the endless and constant worry about where on earth Aaron is. He never turns his phone off and Spencer can’t think of a time he’s worked a case without him, not properly; he’s always the first one at the office, the first one on the plane, the first to jump out of bed towards the chance to make a real difference in the world. It’s so out of character for him and it’s utterly distressing.

Nevertheless, he focuses all his attention on the job; on protecting Jeffrey and Tom Barton, on bringing justice to the perpetrator when they inevitably find them. He offers lame and desperate excuses for Aaron not being there, all the while knowing full well that none of them are likely. Something is wrong and he’s powerless to help.

Emily tells him why. He sort of forgets how to breathe.

Getting shot in the leg while simultaneously petrified for the livelihood of the person you’re in love with is inconvenient at best when trying to talk down an unsub and protect a victim and eventually fatal at worst, but somehow he half-manages and Tom escapes unscathed, though he isn’t quite as lucky with the unsub.

That’s what matters, really, isn’t it? That others are safe, even if it means he’s in danger? After all, Tom Barton has lives to save and a son to raise, a wide social circle, and a loving family. What does Spencer have? No, it’s much better that he’s the one hurt than anyone else.

Of course, once the adrenaline of the situation starts to wear off and medics arrive on scene, he realises quite how badly he’s hurt. Already feeling woozy, energy seems to seep out of him as roaring, raging agony takes its place. It’s the first time he’s ever been shot and it’s worse than he could have imagined: no amount of studying literature and anecdotal evidence could prepare him for the feeling of a small metal ball tearing through the flesh and muscle and tendons — though, hopefully, and judging by the amount of blood he’s lost, no arteries or large blood vessels — of his thigh.

His team arrives, minus Emily and minus Hotch, and they’re concerned, of course they are. That is, until he presents them with someone they see as much more important, someone whose life is worth something, someone they care about deeply being hurt. And they leave.

He doesn’t get a chance to tell the medics that he doesn’t want narcotics, so the ride to the hospital is a blur of morphine and voices talking to him, though he can’t quite piece together what they’re saying. He wonders vaguely where everybody is, whether Hotch is alright, whether he’s about to die, but no real emotion is attached to any of these thoughts, they just… are.

He’s rushed into surgery almost immediately after he arrives at the hospital, and the next thing he’s aware of is a dull, ever-present, agonising ache in his upper thigh and exhaustion settled into his bones like his body is pain’s home, fatigue’s resting place. The last time he’d blinked himself awake in a hospital bed, blinding pain burning in one part of his body or another, Derek had been sat by his bed, eating jello.

There’s nobody by his bed this time.

A PCA pump is resting by his right hand but he doesn’t touch it. Clearly, nobody from his team has informed the hospital staff of his previous addiction; he doesn’t even know if they’re at the hospital; if they know what’s going on. The morphine he’s already had is going to be hard enough to deal with, he can feel the future cravings itching beneath his skin already, scarred-over track marks simmering away.

It’s over twenty-five minutes of lying helplessly on a hospital bed in a cool, impersonal room, feeling a certain kind of emptiness sitting in his stomach, before a nurse comes by. She looks pleased enough to see him awake, but he doesn’t care about her satisfaction, he cares about his team, about Penelope, about Aaron, and he’s too exhausted to do anything about it.

“Good, you’re awake,” she says cheerily and for once, he doesn’t try and conceal his despondency. It’s oddly freeing. “I’ll get the doctor to come and explain the situation.”

She bumbles out of the room, clearly not fazed by Spencer’s expression, so he resumes staring at the wall, allowing his thoughts to wander, still not managing to attach much emotion to them other than a miserable sort of emptiness.

The doctor is nice enough, making sure he understands his injury and the procedures he’s had done, as well as the recovery ahead of him, but he just can’t bring himself to care. It’s as though this is the last straw; this is the proof, the evidence to win the case he’s been fighting in the court of his mind. His team doesn't care. His life is worthless. He will always, always be alone.

JJ stops by briefly. This feels like it should be a consolation, but it isn’t. He learns of what’s happened to Aaron, what his family is going through, and suddenly he feels selfish: how dare he demand and crave attention when Aaron is far more hurt and injured than he is? When he’s far more important and far more deserving of the team’s attention? Self-loathing creeps up his throat and settles into grey cotton wool that won’t melt in his mouth.

Spencer doesn’t know how to react to the incredibly overwhelming events of the day, and JJ doesn’t seem to have time for this. “Right, Spencer,” she says, visibly impatient with his emotional floundering, his lack of verbal response, “I need to go. We need to sort this out for Hotch. We owe it to him.”

She leaves, and all Spencer can think is how much more worthless not being able to work on his case makes him. If he can’t even work to save the man he loves; if he can’t strive effortlessly to protect him and make him happy, then what is he doing here? Aaron will be furious when he finds out Spencer laid in bed lazily instead of diving headfirst into the case.

No. That’s not true. He’ll be sickeningly nice about it, while on the inside suppressing his disappointment, and Spencer will feel even more guilty, he’ll be even more irate with himself, and life will seem just a little bit bleaker.

He’s discharged a few days later, and nobody has visited, barring JJ’s fleeting, impatient stop by. He goes home in a taxi and struggles up the stairs on his crutches, almost glad he didn’t have many personal items at the hospital. Then again, that was because he was completely isolated. And if he did have people to bring him things in the hospital, then he’d probably have someone to help him up the stairs too.

It’s a moot point, really. He dives straight for the non-narcotic painkillers he’d been prescribed as soon as he sits down on his dusty couch in his messy apartment, desperate to relieve at least some of the agony throbbing in his leg still. Clearly, the universe decided he wasn’t in enough pain already; that the unrequited love and the growing depression and the recurring stomach cramps and clenches in his chest weren’t quite sufficient.

He knows the team is working flat out on the Foyet case. But even Penelope, who probably works the hardest of all of them, has had time to send him an encouraging text message promising to pop round as soon as she can. Other than that, his phone is dry and his heart slowly freezing over.

Truthfully, he’s not sure how much more of this he can stand. He’s feeling the same way he did as a child: isolated, othered, hurt, and utterly, utterly alone. When he’d joined the BAU and was welcomed immediately into the arms of a family, he promised himself he’d never feel like that again. He would never, ever allow himself to sink so low; not when he was surrounded by so many people who proved day in day out how much they loved him. Surely, feeling like this would simply be impossible.

For once, Doctor Spencer Reid is proved wrong. And it burns, festers, and screams like nothing else.

Chapter Two

taglist:@criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @hotchseyebrows @reidology @i-like-buttons @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @goobzoop @marsjareau @garcias-bitch (taglist form)

(I'm tagging my usual hotchreid taglist but let me know if you would not like to be tagged in this fic OR if you'd only like to be tagged once it's complete! Either fill in the taglist form again or DM me.)

[pollenat]

“Nocturnal silence” | cjs.

➛ ITZY’s Lia. 2012!au.

➛ Word count: 1854.

➛ This short follows the events of “Liquid mirrors”.

The worst part about the overcrowded cabin has to be the snoring woman. The very same one that just a few hours ago complained about the lack of fresh brussels sprouts on a ship - the last ark of humanity after the end of the world. Humankind has gone mostly extinct, and she had the guts to be angry at frozen greens. Looking at her through half-closed lids, you’re itching to throw a pillow at the woman. Nothing can stop her from going on, like an old tractor, choking on its own engine every now and then. The very pillow you’re trying to deafen the noises with, does nothing to your sensitive ears. You’re growing more and more irritated with each passing second.

Others seem to not mind. You look down, at the bunk underneath yours, where a mother with her son are sound asleep. The boy has kicked thin blanket off of his body, as if to prove how much space he can take. His mother is lying on the very edge, somehow calm despite her tragic situation. A man, lying above the snoring woman, has earplugs. Lucky asshole.

Your body thrashes around for an hour or so. At least it feels like it. The duvet is in desperate need of changing, but who cares about laundry during the apocalypse? You’re all sticky from sweat, annoyed by incoming headache and ready to commit a murder, which is just a figure of speech, don’t worry. The fact that nobody else is as affected by the snoring? A perfect way to drive you insane.

At some point you can’t take it anymore - the night feels useless. You miss the rays of sunshine, the sign of life, the reason to stay away from the cabin. Tonight, just like many times before, you jump off of bed, barely avoiding the snoring woman’s husband. He has made himself a sleeping station on the ground. You wonder is he really asleep or just way more patient than you. Either way, you don’t plan on staying around a second longer. As soon as the door closes, you’re welcomed by sweet silence. It’s an odd contrast to the loud snoring. Its lack has you almost creeped out.

The floor is cold under your naked feet. To the point where you can’t touch it for longer than a few seconds. Jumping from one foot to another, you look down the dark hallway. Its only source of light are small windows in the cabins’ doors. Circle-shaped rays fall on walls, like headlights, showing you the way across narrow scene.

Nobody will mind you getting lost in the ship’s hallways, right? You’re just another survivor, struggling to find their place aboard the ark. There are no perspectives. Exploring it seems to be the most compelling thing one could busy themselves with. So you travel down the scene, stepping inside the circles of light and looking inside the cabins as you pass. There’s no other soul up. Everybody is sleeping. It’s sort of weird and you wonder whether it’s just a dream you’re stuck in. How come you’re the only one unable to fall asleep?

Humming some tune you faintly remember makes the night feel more bearable. You’re tired of the crowded spaces, of eyes settling on you, even if they’re just traveling. They’re a tiresome phenomenon that does nothing, but fuel your anxiety. The worst part? Aside from the night, there’s nowhere to escape. All-ocean has made sure of that.

Step by step, you move forward, never putting a foot down for longer than two seconds. You’ve already observed that, but now it reminds you of the past. The tiled floor of your balcony during Winter. Dusting used duvets while cursing at temperature. Welcoming the texture of a carpet with relief. Digging your toes into the fluff. It’s weird to miss carpets in the middle of the night, but you do. Their last reminder is the one snoring woman’s husband uses as his mattress, an object completely out of your reach. What interior designer forgot about additional carpets onboard a luxury ship?

In front of you a door opens. Some silhouettes leave their cabin in hurry. Hushed giggles resonate down the hallway. You can neither make out a sense to their conversation nor put faces to dark shapes. But they do sound familiar. The silhouettes disappear behind a corner in the hallway’s other end.

Heart beating fast, your steps speed up. A thought, string of memories, collection of pictures swims in the back of your head. Common sense is the only thing keeping you from describing them. Number 203 is meaningful, though it’s just a number.

You’re just by the door when it opens again.

“Oh!” Jisoo. Jisoo? Jisoo! “You scared me!” She laughs, eyes morphing into crescent moons. But as soon as her voice raises in volume, Jisoo covers her mouth, worried she will wake up other residents.

“I see there are more night owls around the ship?” You motion at where the two silhouettes, you can now safely identify, disappeared.

The girl looks in the same direction. Her eyes stay there for a longer time, while you watch her profile. Perhaps (you won’t admit it), you should be thanking the snoring woman for a chance to see Jisoo at a different time. Her hair is disheveled, but the little mess is a beautiful one. Eyes glossy, lips dry, t-shirt creased. She’s a painting you enjoy watching. Even when her smile disappears as she returns to facing you.

You grow nervous instantly, because the mood shifts and you slightly prefer the easy-going Jisoo to solemn and serious Jisoo. The easy-going one loves joking, which is much better, as it consists mostly of laughing at yourself and your inability to form proper sentences.

“Uh, yes. I don’t know why Ryujin and Yuna left though. They didn’t tell me. Probably to spy on Yeji.” Pause. “Or something...”

“So, are you going to follow them?” Jisoo seems to consider your question.

Then she steers the conversation to your person.

“I don’t know- Why are you up? Came to spy on Yeji too?”

“As if it has ever bothered me what's Yeji doing at night. I have my own problems, mainly, a snoring roommate.”

Jisoo nods her head in understanding, mouth opened to build on the effect. You’re stuck in nocturnal silence, both scared to break it. Frankly, you don’t even have any idea where to go from here. Maybe you should just return to exploring the ship, but then again, it’s not everyday that you catch Jisoo alone.

“I’ve been walking around, you know, exploring.”

Again, she nods.

“So you’re looking for some place to rest?”

“In a way, yes. Do you happen to know any?” She smiles.

“Actually, I do.”

You’re surprised by her boldness. Jisoo lies down on her bed and you’re watching her with an awkward surprise.

“Don’t make it weird, I’m just sharing a bed with you. Okay, perhaps it does sound weird. But we’re just going to sleep, not- do anything weird? Okay, ignore me. I don’t know what I’m talking about.” To be honest, her joke doesn’t make you feel any better about the situation.

After a defeated sigh, you walk over to the bed, eyes never once meeting hers. Jisoo holds the edge of her duvet. She’s patiently waiting until your stiff posture joins her side. Then she slowly follows your lead.

The first thing you register is the smell - Jisoo’s smell. It’s an overwhelming sensations you’re eager to breathe in after many attempts at small doses. Now that you can experience it in its full form, you can safely say it’s bound to become one of your favorite sensations. It causes you excitement, one that you’re embarrassed to show. Maybe she will call you a creep if you don’t stop yourself from smiling? Suddenly worried, you look for other things to focus on. Like the coldness of her skin against your left hand’s knuckles. Frankly, it’s stuck. The bed is meant for one person and you can’t just sprawl across its surface.

A moment of hesitation passes. Then you turn to lie on your side, facing Jisoo.

At first you’re both stuck in shy silence. Jisoo’s looking down, perhaps thinking over something. But you don’t plan on disturbing her. It’s as if you’ve forgotten your tongue - you can’t even feel it. The darkness is all-consuming and you wish to stay hidden in its embrace, so Jisoo never learns of how hard it is for you to say a word, but also look away.

“So.”

Her eyes, so hesitant to meet yours, finally reach them. She’s surprised to find you staring back.

“How bad is it?”

“Bad?”

“Yeah, how bad is lying next to me on a bed?” Dark eyes pull away to avoid you.

Your brain orders you to be smooth. “It’s not bad.” isn’t the type of smooth you had in mind.

“But not good either? Ah, forget I said anything-” Jisoo laughs nervously through clenched teeth. “I’m just nervous. Because I made you come here with me! That’s why I’m nervous.”

“Jisoo,” The silence returns. “you don’t have to be nervous around me. I know, my magnetic personality and good looks are to die for,” She snickers in disbelief at your words. “but I’d rather you felt comfortable around me. Which doesn’t mean our current bed situation- I mean, I don’t mind it.”

There’s a blunt taste on your tongue. As if you have just finished your entry for a spelling bee and were in dire need of some water. Some actually meaning a lot.

“Do you think your roommates will make fun of us?”

“Definitely.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Silence.

“Um-” She dares a look into your eyes before dropping them again. “Let’s go to bed then, hm?”

You don’t think you’ll be able to fall asleep next to her. At least not with the possibility of seeing her face at the cost of merely opening your eyes. Jisoo seems to have the same idea. Her turning around causes a way too powerful sting somewhere in your abdomen. Before you know it, instead of her soft face structure, you’re looking at void-like black of her hair.

Your left hand sticks to your chest, but what about the right one? Keeping it on your thigh feels tiring. Placing it on Jisoo’s side? Too wonderful and too dangerous. Even if you’re itching to offer yourself, you cannot imagine the amount of courage it would demand from you. Instead, you rest it in the hold of your left hand. That way, perhaps, it will be stopped before any unconscious action takes place.

For a moment, you wonder, would she mind? Still, it’s a question you have no answers for. You also have no idea what will happen in the morning. How will the girls react? What will Jisoo do? How will you feel in the morning and will your left hand let go because of that damn itching...

Perhaps, the snoring woman is weaker than your true enemy - your vivid imagination.

“Goodnight Jisoo.”

“Goodnight.”

➛ pollenat’s list of headcanons

➛ pollenat’s list of shorts

➛ pollenat’s list of scenarios

[addictofsupernatural]

Emotions (pt. 13)

Billy Hargrove x reader

Summary: Y/n wants Billy and Steve to call a truce, while other people have other plans.

Word Count: 1858

Chapter 1 • Chp. Masterlist • Chapter 12

When you woke up, Billy was gone. Part of you was disappointed, shamefully craving his comforting touch. The other part of you was screaming about how fucking idiotic it was to let him come inside in the first place. You needed to straighten your emotions out and make a decision. You just needed to look at the pros and cons of it.

Getting back together with Billy.

Pros. He would be happy, at least for now. You'd feel less crappy about yourself. You could protect him from his dad. You loved him with all your heart.

Cons. They could still be trying to find you. They could learn about Billy, and hold that against you. He could probably find someone better, prettier, and be happier with that girl.

Fuck, what the hell were you supposed to do? This had as much powerful pros as it did cons. But like Hopper said, you just needed to be on your own for now.

Hopper made ego waffles by the time you got out of bed. He passed you the chocolate syrup while he got out the whipped cream for him and El. He kicked the chair out for you as well, which you took as a sign that he was really trying to help you feel better, in his awkward dad kind of way. It made your chest feel a little lighter. Once you opened the door to your house, you saw Steve almost fall back while he leaned on it, sitting on the ground and waiting for you. He looked tired.

"Y/n!"

You said nothing as he stumbled onto his feet. Hopper gently pushed passed you before roughly shoving Steve out of the way, causing him to knock back down to the ground. "We're not looking to buy any cookies today, sorry. Have a nice day!"

Hopper then grabbed your shoulders and led you to the car. You went inside the car in silence. You saw him come to your window, and you looked down. "Y/n! I'm sorry. Talk to me, please!"

Hopper then stepped on the gas petal and left Steve back there. After leaving the woods, you could see him calm himself. It honestly took everything in Hopper not to smile. Even you could feel his happiness. No more boys.

Once you got to school, you gave him a side hug and said your goodbyes. You only had to get through today and tomorrow, then you were on Spring Break for a week. Once Hopper drove off, you saw Steve's car quickly pull up the driveway.

"Y/n! Please talk to me!" You sucked in a breath. You knew this would eat up at you both, but you still continued walking. You didn't say anything and he ran over to you, panting. "I... I'm sorry. I was... stupid, and..." He was huffing.

"Catch your breath first." You quietly said.

He nodded. "Yeah... okay, thanks." He took a second, then started again. "I was a jackass, and you didn't deserve that last night. I don't even think you're stupid, I just got mad. It just seems like nobody really cares about me, so I just, uh," He sighed and looked down. "I feel like I have to care about everyone else, so maybe people will start caring back."

He rubbed the back of his neck, having just said something he'd been denying to say to himself.

"Okay." You said after what seemed like a whole moment of silence to Steve.

"So, okay?"

You nodded with a straight face. "Okay. I forgive you. And you don't have to worry about me. I still don't know what I'm going to do, but I'll be okay at the end of the day."

The both of you hugged, and you pulled back. All in all, he meant well. Well damn, there goes your being away from them two today. As your hug came to an end, Billy suddenly swooped right in front of you, staring Steve down. "Typical. She's too nice and you know she'll forgive you no matter what you say."

"Did you tell him?" Steve looked at you, and you merely shook your head.

"I was the one who called her, and she yelled at me thinking I was you. I put two and two together. Care to explain why the fuck she was crying about thinking she was stupid?"

Steve fell silent out of guilt, and you painfully felt those emotions radiating off him. You lightly tugged on Billy's sleeve from behind, fiddling with it. "We talked it out. It's okay now." You said quietly with a reassuring smile.

He wanted to melt looking at your smile. It's been a while since he's seen your comforting smile, and he just wanted to hold you while kissing you with that smile on your face. He fully turned to you, grabbing your hand and entwining fingers. "Sweetheart, just because he said sorry doesn't mean you just forgive them."

He kissed your hand, and Steve overly gasped. "Hey hey! First of all," He said, slapping Billy's hand away. "Don't do that! Second, you're one to talk about apologies when you did the same thing after flipping out on her."

Billy then took a step forward and grabbed Steve's jacket. "You better fucking watch yourself."

You went in between them quickly. "Okay, how bout this? You." You looked at Billy. "Calm down! He's my friend, and you have to deal with that." You then turned to Steve. "And you. Chill out when it comes to Billy. I still don't know what I'm going to do yet and as my friend you need to respect my decision."

"Then can you let him to stop being a dick?" Steve asked.

"And can you tell him to grow a dick?"

"Jesus, is it so hard for you two to at least try to be on my side for once? It's such bullshit to even involve me at all in your crap. Why do you guys always have this rivalry going on when I've been trying my best to make things easier?"

"Five—" Steve started, before you gave him a look and he stopped. "Y/n."

"Maybe I should just get out of the picture. You two have fun together." You walked away, radiating pissed off energy to those passing by.

"Nice going dick fuck."

"You know what?" Steve said, putting his hands in his pockets. "I'll be the bigger person and accept that I pissed her off. So did you. She's all over the place and we're making it worse." He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I guess, um, let's try not to hate each other out loud for her? We gotta do that before she stops forgiving us."

Billy looked away and huffed before mumbling, "Whatever man. Sure."

The bell rang and the two boys walked away separately. Billy felt like shit all day. He made you mad, and was an ass. He couldn't wait for fourth period to explain himself.

He could imagine the situation if you two were still together. He would pull you into his lap, and you would give him that cute pout. He'd tell you that he wouldn't hate Steve as much, just for you. He'd then kiss your neck, maybe even nip at it. You'd giggle, before telling him that you accept and that he's not fully forgiven, even though he really is. You'd tell him that you're proud he made it that far for you. He'd get a kiss on the cheek as his prize, before having a nice make out session.

Once he got to fourth period, he buried his face in his hands. Was this really going to be the day you didn't forgive him? What about last night? You have to know that he was there for you when you needed him still, right?

He saw you sit down from the corner of his eye, and and suddenly sat up, smiling. That smile quickly faded when he saw tears in your eyes and a cheek that was stung red. "What happened?" He demanded.

"It's nothing." You mumbled, fiddling with your textbook.

"Who hurt you?" He brushed his thumb over your cheek bone, and you leaned into his touch involuntarily.

"Just these girls. Um, they saw me with you and Steve. They called me a slut and a whore and pushed me around. I fell, and they started kicking me."

"And was one of these girls named Heather cock sucking Holloway?" You stayed silent. "She needs to get a fucking clue!"

He stood, causing you to grab his hand in panic. "Please don't! I want all this fighting to stop for once. I just want to stop causing all this drama."

You began to bounce your knee. This wasn't good. You never had full on anxiety. How would you react to it? You felt Billy gently squeeze your thigh to stop you. "Hey, you don't cause drama. Everybody in this damn school is just trying to have interesting lives, and they're jealous because you're the only one who isn't boring."

You gave him a nervous smile. "You think so?"

"I know so." He brought his hand back, resting his elbow on the table and his palm underneath his chin. "I'm okay with Harrington, by the way. I'm gonna try not to hate him that much, and he's gonna do the same. We agreed on it. Just wanted to put less stress on you."

He flashed you a grin as you just stared at him with a blank face. You were just staring at him unreadably for a bit before leaning to him to kiss him. You caught both him and yourself by surprise. You pulled back and saw Billy's shocked expression.

"I–I'm sorry. You probably don't even need this right now and I shouldn't have—" Billy grabbed your neck and brought you in for a passionate kiss. You both felt all the weight on your shoulders being lifted, the heavy feeling of being so close yet so far gone. Once the kiss was over Billy rubbed his nose against yours. You giggled. "I missed you."

"I missed you too doll."

"I'm sorry, my emotions are all spiked today."

"It's okay sweetheart."

You grinned. "I'm proud of you, by the way. I didn't expect you to ever be okay with Steve. Thank you for doing that for me." You swiped your finger across the side of his jawline, which you know tickles him.

"Course. Am I forgiven then?"

"I guess, but not fully."

Billy's smile became wider, and before he could tease you, Jonathan, Nancy, and Steve stormed into the class with worried expressions. "So they're not here yet?" Jonathan asked.

"Who?" You responded with.

Suddenly Tommy and his friends shoved past them, and Tommy pulled Billy back unexpectedly as Heather grabbed you by the arm and yanked you over to the front of the classroom. She pushed you to the ground, and these other guys then dumped a big cooler full of cold water on you.

A lot of emotions were going to bubble up today.

---

Author's Note: Kind of an awkward cliffhanger, sorry, but I do have more written for the next chapter.

---

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[joe-mazzello-archive]

Party For One

A Joe Mazzello x Fem!Reader fic

Word Count: 4k whoopsssss

Rating: PG

Warnings: language, drinking, angst for most of it, a teeny bit of fluff, joe is a bit of a shithead in this one, sorry gang

A/N: hey remember how i was supposed to be finishing doj part two and instead i word-vomited this out in five hours at work yesterday? anyway, enjoy.

He hasn’t changed a bit, you thought to yourself as you watched him, always the life of the party. He’d been that way all through high school, the summers you saw him between college semesters, and the few gatherings he made appearances at when he was home.

You’d always been right beside him, too. Pre-gaming at a friend’s house, sharing the mic during karaoke, rubbing his back as he leaned over the toilet, crashing on the couch or the floor or wherever you could find a spot.

But now you were out of your element. You were in his other world. You were surrounded by vaguely familiar faces, people you knew you had probably seen in a movie or a tv show but you couldn’t place them exactly. And there he was, across the room, animatedly entertaining a small group with some anecdote you’d probably heard before.

He was obviously the reason you were here. He had been begging you to come out to Los Angeles for years now. Years of you’d love it out here and you and I both know you’d take the industry by storm and I miss my best friend. Eventually, you relented. Mostly because your career in real estate was exhaustingly boring and you needed a change. Acting had always been something you enjoyed but never looked at as a career opportunity until now. But you had to admit, you missed your best friend too.

So you packed up everything, drove across the country, and settled into Joe’s guest room. You had a meeting with his agency on Monday, but of course Joe, always the party host, insisted that you needed a welcoming get-together upon arrival. Which soon turned into a complete blow-out. In fact, you were pretty sure most of the guests in attendance had no idea what the party’s true origin was, let alone who you were.

So there you were, only hours since you had arrived, left to nurse your beer off in the corner. Part of you wished you and Joe could have had a quiet night in, catching up over pizza and a comedy special. But you knew deep down that would have just exacerbated the situation you found yourself in. Seeing Joe in the flesh once again had caused some...feelings to resurface. Feelings that you had worked for years to suppress, and had been hoping were completely gone by now.

All it took was him opening his front door and pulling you into a tight hug for all of those feelings to come rushing right back.

Sometimes he did things that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, he felt the same. Like the way he used to wrap a protective arm around you when the two of you walked around Brooklyn at night. The way he could sense when you were having a rough day just through your texts, and suddenly a delivery of Insomnia Cookies would arrive at your apartment door. The way every hello and goodbye hug lasted just a moment longer than was probably appropriate for two friends. But surely you were reading into it.

You knew he wasn’t avoiding you. No, he couldn’t be. Sure, the second other guests had started to arrive, his focus turned from you to them. And sure, he hadn’t given you the time of day since. But he wasn’t avoiding you, no. He was just a popular guy, he always had been.

You pushed those negative thoughts away, not willing to accept them.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” sounded a familiar voice with a British lilt from behind you. You turned and were met with ocean blue eyes and chiseled cheekbones.

“Gwil,” you breathed out, almost in relief. Someone you knew. The tall man pulled you in for a bear hug, immediately putting you at ease. You appreciated the gesture considering you and Gwil weren’t even that close, only meeting each other a few times back when the Borhap cast was briefly in New York.

“Did that asshole leave you here alone at a party full of people you don’t know?” Gwil asked as he pulled away. You chuckled at his frankness.

“You know how he is,” you mused, offering a smile and a shrug. “He’s gotta entertain everybody.”

“Now did I hear correctly that you’re moving out here?” Gwil questioned, casually leaning a shoulder against the wall next to you.

“Got here a few hours ago, in fact,” you explained. “I’ll be occupying the guest room until I find my own place.” Gwil chuckled at that.

“You quite literally just got here and he’s off chatting with people he sees all the time?” Gwil clarified, earning an exasperated nod from you. “I’m going to go ahead and apologize on behalf of that bastard.” You let out a genuine laugh at that, clearly pleasing Gwil if his smile was any indication. “So how was the trip out here?”

And that’s how you found yourself tucked into the hallway of Joe’s apartment, just exchanging stories with Gwil. You welcomed the change in subject, not wanting to harp on the whole Joe situation. You told him about the weird truck stop in Ohio, the delicious pizza you devoured in Chicago, the loud hotel neighbors you encountered in Colorado, and your brief stint in Las Vegas. Gwil offered his own road trip tales before the conversation shifted, and eventually he was regaling stories about various sets he’d worked on, actors he’d worked with, and general knowledge of the business. He even offered some much needed advice, melting away some of your initial anxieties about your career change. All feelings of loneliness and inklings of frustration at Joe were long gone, and you mentally thanked Joe for inviting at least one person you knew.

“Can I ask you something?” Gwil inquired after a little while, the two of you finding yourselves settled out in chairs on Joe’s balcony, enjoying the night air of LA.

“Fire away.”

“Did you and Joe ever date or anything?”

You burst out laughing at the question, shaking your head.

“No, no, definitely not,” you replied before taking a sip of your beer. You chanced a look at Gwil, finding him eyeing you warily.

“That’s surprising,” he admitted before pursing his lips and gently caressing his own beard, a gesture you noticed he did often.

“Why is that surprising?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Just the way he talks about you…” Gwil trailed off, his gaze focusing on the city lights before him. Your heart slammed against your chest at his words. You tried to keep your face neutral, not wanting to let Gwil know just how important what he was saying was to you.

“How...how does he talk about me?” you followed up, attempting to hide the quiver in your voice. Gwil immediately turned back to face you, his eyes glinting mischievously. His lips curved into a soft smile before he said your name gently.

“He...he’s in awe of you,” Gwil confessed. “I swear he talked about you constantly while we were shooting the film. ‘She’d be a great actress if she wanted to be. She’s funny, she’s charming, and she’s got the looks and talent.’ Everything reminded him of a funny story involving you. We practically knew you before we even met you.” Your heart was practically beating out of your chest as Gwil spoke. Sure, Joe had complimented you before. But something about the fact that he had practically bragged about you to people who didn’t even know you made your stomach flutter.

You realized Gwil had stopped talking and you met his gaze, finding his eyes narrowed at you.

“You should tell him,” he finally said after a few moments.

“Tell him what?” you asked, playing dumb. You knew exactly what he was referring to. The man had seen right through you. He smiled, this time seeing right through your act of denial.

“How you feel.”

You ran your hands over your face and let out a groan.

“I literally just moved in, Gwil,” you reasoned. “I don’t want to make him feel awkward about me staying here by telling him about the feelings he very clearly doesn’t reciprocate.” You gestured inside the apartment, where Joe was still talking it up with a few guys you recognized from Undrafted.

Gwil leaned forward, shuffling closer to you and placing a gentle hand on your knee.

“I know his actions tonight make it seem like he couldn’t care less. But I promise you, he’s so happy to have you here. He adores you. More than you even realize.”

You chewed on Gwil’s words, your mind swimming. You believed him; he had no reason to lie to you. But you just wished what Gwil told you lined up with how Joe had been behaving all night.

Eventually the two of you made your way back inside, to find the party had somewhat died down. Joe had shifted into clean up mode while the last small group was starting to make their exit. You instinctively began to straighten up, grabbing beer bottles and paper plates and disposing of them while Joe worked on packing up the leftover food.

You were tying up a full trash bag when Joe brushed past you, not even acknowledging your presence. Your heart sunk, knowing full well you couldn’t use the excuse that Joe was just distracted by others this time.

He was actually ignoring you.

As you opened a new trash bag, you began to wrack your brain for what you could have done already to piss him off. Gwil pulled you from your thoughts, pulling you in for a goodbye hug and a peck on the cheek. When he pulled away, his brow furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” It was amazing how quickly Gwil learned how to read you. Or maybe you were just that bad at masking your emotions.

Your lip trembled as you tried to prevent the tears from falling.

“He’s ignoring me now,” you revealed, earning a sympathetic look from Gwil.

“I’m sorry, love,” he offered quietly. “He’ll figure his shit out eventually.” Another hug, this one a bit longer as he held you against his chest. “I’ll text you next time I’m in town, we’ll all grab lunch.” You nodded with a soft smile before pulling away, turning your attention back to your cleaning.

Another minute passed, the last of the voices faded away, and the door clicked closed, leaving a silent apartment. You let out a sigh as you tossed the last of the plates you had found in the new trash bag. Pulling another beer out of the fridge, you ventured into the living room where you found Joe pushing the coffee table back to its original position. You awkwardly leaned against the arm of the loveseat as you waited for him to say something.

But he didn’t. After finishing rearranging, he passed by you once again, not even sparing you a glance, before heading back into the kitchen. You let out another sigh, following after him.

“Okay, can you please tell me what I did so I can fix it?” you pleaded, completely at a loss. Joe silently pulled a bottle of disinfectant and a rag out from under the sink and breezed past you another time, heading back into the living room. You scoffed at his actions, your sadness being replaced with anger at his immature way of handling himself.

You placed your beer down on the counter and trudged back into the living room, stopping in front of where Joe was wiping down the coffee table and crossing your arms.

“Joe? Are you going to talk to me or continue to ignore me like a fucking child?”

He froze, dropping the bottle and the rag on the table before finally, finally looking at you for the first time in hours.

“You’ve been here for what, five minutes? And you’re already trying to fuck my friends?”

Your jaw dropped.

“Excuse me?”

“You and Gwil seemed awfully cozy,” Joe replied before picking up the rag and continuing to wipe down the coffee table. You grabbed the rag from his hand, earning a sharp glare. “Hey--”

“Are you fucking serious right now?” you roared, your blood boiling. “I hang out with the one fucking person I knew at my supposed ‘welcoming party’ besides you and suddenly I’m trying to fuck them?” You were shell-shocked at the accusation. Joe simply shrugged.

“The two of you were inseparable all night, what was I supposed to think?” he reasoned as he began to walk back into the kitchen. You scoffed again, tossing the rag onto the table in frustration at his nonchalant tone.

“How about the fact that you left me alone at a party full of strangers so I spent time with Gwil since you were busy with your other friends?” you fired back as you stomped into the kitchen. Joe began to wash his hands, still ignoring your piercing stare. “Like, holy shit, Joe. I know your world does not revolve around me, but the least you could do was acknowledge my existence. It’s my first night here, for fuck’s sake.”

That made him pause. He stared at the counter and you could practically hear how hard he was thinking. Suddenly, he met your gaze once again, a brazen look on his face.

“You could have come up to talk to me. I shouldn’t have to babysit you.”

His words were like a sword through your chest. Your jaw practically hit the floor this time.

“Fuck. You.” You turned on your heels and headed for the guest bedroom, angry hot tears escaping down your cheeks. You thanked your past self for barely unpacking anything before the party as you began to scoop up your toiletries and few pieces of clothing laying out on the bed and threw them back into your suitcase. 

You felt ashamed and so so stupid for thinking that this had been a good idea. And the worst feeling of all was the embarrassment at thinking that there was ever a chance of Joe reciprocating any feelings for you. You were nothing but a burden to him. Someone he felt like he would have to “babysit.” You didn’t fit in in his world and you were foolish to think you could.

“What are you doing?”

You jumped at the sound of Joe’s voice behind you; you hadn’t even heard him approach. You swiped at a stray tear and finished zipping up your bag before lugging it onto the floor and pulling up the handle.

“I’m going to check into a hotel,” you explained as you pushed your way past him, luggage dragging behind you. “I don’t feel welcome here.” You began to make your way towards the front door, already feeling overwhelmed by anxiety. You had no idea what your next move was going to be. Stay in LA and try to figure things out? Go back home to two parents who would chant “we told you so” until they were blue in the face?

Joe’s hand caught your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Please don’t do that,” he pleaded, his tone from earlier completely gone and replaced with a much softer and more desperate one. “I’m sorry. Please stay.” You whipped around to face him.

“Which part are you sorry for?” you asked sharply. “The part where you ignored me? Or where you accused me of trying to sleep with your friend? Or maybe it’s the part where you said you shouldn’t have to ‘babysit me’?”

“All of it,” Joe replied. “I’m sorry I lashed out at you. I’m just--” he trailed off as he turned away, almost bashfully. “I can’t help but feel protective of you.”

You furrowed your brows. It didn’t make sense. He felt protective of you but didn’t want to have to ‘babysit you’? He felt protective of you but he got mad at you for talking to Gwil? You stuttered as you tried to put the pieces together, coming up empty.

“I don’t…” your voice petered out. You were completely flabbergasted. “What do you want from me, Joe?”

Joe’s eyes met yours once again, and you could see the conflict written on his face. He was struggling with something. It was almost as if he--

“I want…” he began, before taking a deep breath. “I want you to stay here tonight.”

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. For some reason, a part of you was hopeful he would say something else. The two of you stared at each other for a few more moments, giving him the chance to say more. But it never came. So with a soft nod, you reached for your suitcase again, pulling it behind you as you walked back into the guest room, closing the door behind you.

✧✧✧

You awoke to the smell of bacon wafting into your room. You sat up, throwing your legs over the side of the bed. With a deep breath, you pushed yourself up and headed toward the bathroom.

The sight of your face in the mirror made you cringe. You hadn’t taken off your makeup before crying yourself to sleep the night before, leaving black streaks of mascara across your cheeks. You washed your face before running a comb through your hair. You knew you looked awful, but you didn’t care. Joe had seen you worse, and honestly, his opinion of you was not high on your priority list after his hissy fit last night.

You sauntered into the kitchen with a bit of hesitation, unsure what you’d be walking into. You found Joe, furiously whisking some pancake batter.

“Hey.”

He practically jumped out of his own skin, clumsily dropping the bowl of batter to the counter, luckily with little to no mess.

“Hey,” he replied, running a hand over the back of his neck. “How did you sleep?”

“Alright,” you lied. You had agonized over every detail of the evening until practically three in the morning. But you didn’t want Joe to know that. If he knew, he didn’t let on, instead offering you a small smile.

“I made bacon and I’m about to make pancakes,” he stated, gesturing towards the stove behind him. You nodded simply and took a seat at his kitchen island.

Things were awkward. You didn’t even know where to begin. Part of you wanted to tell him to forget everything and start fresh. It would make things easier. But part of you wanted to stand strong, make sure you held him accountable for how he’d hurt you.

You mulled over everything, idly chewing on a piece of bacon as Joe worked at the stove, mumbling under his breath about the pancakes cooking inconsistently or something. After a few minutes, you were pulled from your thoughts by a plate of pancakes being placed in front of you. You glanced up to see Joe eyeing you, an uncertain look on his face.

“I’m a huge asshole,” he admitted. You opened your mouth to agree with him but he kept going. “You were right. I was avoiding you during the party. It was easier for me to convince myself that you were having a good time than to check up on you myself. I thought I…” he trailed off, losing momentum. He shook his head and began again. “I assured myself that I could handle being around you again. That enough time had passed and I could be your best friend again without a second thought. But then you walked through my front door and it all came rushing back and I panicked.”  You shook your head, trying to keep up with what Joe was trying to tell you.

“I don’t understand--”

“I’m in love with you.”

For the third time in less than twenty-four hours, your jaw dropped.

“I honestly think I’ve been in love with you since high school, but it took me well into my late twenties for me to actually realize it. And I got so caught up on this fantasy of you and I being this acting dream team, showing this fucking town who’s boss, together. And then you were here and you had spent the last week road-tripping across the country yet somehow you looked so fucking beautiful? And I just...couldn’t handle it. I invited practically everyone in my contacts to come over right away because I needed a buffer. I turned my focus to everyone else at the party because it was familiar and certain. With you there was so much uncertainty.”

He paused for a moment and collected his thoughts once again.

“And then I saw you with Gwil. I knew it wasn’t anything. But you were smiling and laughing with him and I just couldn’t help but wish you were spending your time with me. I know that doesn’t make sense. But I just got so caught up in my own head so when you finally confronted me, I panicked again. I threw everything back at you because I was afraid and embarrassed.”

You watched him as he plopped down on the stool next to you with a sigh.

“I wish I could do it all over again. There wouldn’t be a party. Just you and me like it used to be,” he continued. He turned to you, eyes sad with regret. “I am so so so sorry. You were right about everything. Except one thing. My world does revolve around you. The day you told me you were coming out here was the happiest day I’ve had in awhile. I’ve thought about nothing else since. But I completely understand if you want to leave. Hell, I’ll pay for your hotel and help you figure out what you want to do. But I also understand if you want me to just leave you alone.”

To say you were stunned would be an understatement. Your heart was pounding out of your chest at Joe’s confession. You didn’t even know what to say. There was so much that needed to be said, but you were frozen in place.

So you didn’t speak. You just moved.

You gripped the sides of Joe’s head and pulled him in for a bruising kiss. He let out a small noise in surprise, but quickly melted into the kiss, his own hands reaching for you and landing on your hips. You kissed him hard, pouring every emotion you felt into it. Every past pang of your heart when Joe had gone out of his way to do something for you. Every past flutter of your stomach when he had wrapped his arms around you. Every ounce of frustration and hurt that flooded your heart last night. He kissed you back just as eagerly, pulling you off the stool and closer to him, your chests pressing together.

You finally pulled away to gasp for breath, your forehead still pressed against Joe’s.

“I love you too, you asshole,” you breathed out, earning a chuckle from Joe. He pulled back to look at you, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. “You think I’d uproot my entire life and move across the country if I wasn’t completely in love with you?”

Joe’s face lit up before he dove in for another kiss.

“Does this mean you forgive me?” he asked, running his hands up and down your sides. You pursed your lips as you thought it over.

“I’ll only forgive you if you help me finish unpacking,” you reasoned, a smirk playing at your lips. Joe beamed, pulling you closer to him so you were practically in his lap.

“So you’re gonna stay?”

“Of course I’m staying. Why stay in a hotel when I can stay with my former best friend?” Joe’s brows furrowed.

“Former?”

“I guess I just figured ‘love of my life’ was a better title for you,” you revealed with a smile, running your fingers through his auburn locks. Joe pulled you in for another searing kiss, standing up and pressing you against the island, earning a squeal from you. After a moment, he pulled away, grabbing your hand and practically running down the hall towards the guest room, pancakes long forgotten.

✧✧✧

Permanent Taglist (crossed out names won’t let me tag): @queenlover05​, @mrhoemazzello​, @madamsledge​, @sadhwstudent​, @johndeaconshands​, @puffnstuff08

[patriciasage]

Dawn Patrol

Author: Patricia_Sage

Fandom: The Adventure Zone - Balance

Summary:

Magnus blushes and he looks at Taako with stars in his eyes. He looks at Taako the way Barry probably looks at Lup. And Barry realizes how fucking stupid he’s been.

[a Stolen Century story - Barry thinks Magnus is flirting with Lup. He's wrong.]

posted in full under the break but you can find me on A03!!

Barry Bluejeans has a crush on Lup the moment he sees her on his first day with the I.P.R.E., but he falls completely and permanently in love with her around Cycle 10.

He speaks the mongoose language with her and Taako like they’re a secret club, and her soft, mischievous smile makes his heart flutter. Barry and Lup combine their expertise of science and arcana, respectively, staying up late into the night drawing diagrams on the Starblaster’s wall. She tells him about her childhood, about how she views the world. She’s vulgar, bold, impulsive, but also incredibly soft and sweet. She remembers what he likes and doesn't like to eat. They play fetch together in Puppy Town and that’s the first time Barry imagines her as his wife. He tells his brain to slow the fuck down; they’ve only known each other for a decade.

When Taako dies for his first time in Cycle 12, Lup prefers to spend nights with Barry in his lab, curled up in his desk chair. Barry gladly provides his company and cozy blankets to her in solace, and she barely leaves his side that year. It’s nice to spend so much time with her, but it also hurts him to see her so sad and trying so hard to hide it. When Taako materializes next to her on the deck as they speed away from another consumed world, she hugs her twin for at least two full minutes, and Barry resolves to do his best to protect her…and protect her heart.

Barry thinks he might have a chance. After all, they are a crew of seven, and one of them is her brother. He figures that Lup might want him, even if it’s just for a night (and although he wants more with her, so much more, he would take anything she offers). But it seems he’s not the only one carrying a flame for Lup.

Magnus Burnsides is a huge, handsome, kind young man who has never half-assed anything in his life. So, when he begins to flirt with Lup it’s pretty obvious. He’s constantly showing off, doing ridiculous and dangerous things to impress her. He attempts to learn more about elf culture and magic, talking animatedly to Lup and Taako while they cook supper. He’s courteous, charming, and brave in ways that Barry could never mold himself.

Magnus also notices how Taako’s death affected his sister, and he seems to make the same resolution as Barry. From that day forward, Magnus always has Taako’s back, even going so far as to put himself in danger to protect the wizard. In Cycle 16, Taako is retrieving the Light of Creation and sets off a trap. Before Barry can even react, Magnus leaps forward and pushes the elf out of the way. Magnus is impaled by six spears. When the fighter appears on the Starblaster with his signature black eye months later, Taako punches him hard in the arm. “Don’t do that again, you big idiot!” There's a stone in Barry's stomach as Lup kisses Magnus on the cheek and quietly thanks him.

Compared to Magnus, Barry feels small and boring and incapable.

It’s not even possible to hate Magnus, though, because he’s so damn hospitable. Instead, Barry resigns himself to the fact that Lup will likely choose the fighter over him. He enjoys her company, tries to keep everyone out of trouble, and finds contentment in this seemingly endless time with his new family.

The Beach World on Cycle 21 is a welcome reprieve. They find the light very early and everyone just relaxes for once. Even Merle enjoys himself as he recovers in the med bay; the others visit him often and begrudgingly help him work on his book of poetry. Davenport practices self-care, Lucretia gets lost in her art, and Taako learns how to surf. But things aren’t too leisurely because Magnus decides he’s going to “train” them to be ready for surprise attacks.

Barry is sitting on the beach next to Lup one hot morning. She’s lying on her back on their beach blanket with a large, floppy hat covering her eyes. She’s resting her arms under her head, telling Barry about a festival her aunt took her to when she was a kid. Barry is trying very hard not to be completely distracted by the sight of her armpit hair, her stylish bathing suit, and her beautiful, brown skin shining in the sun. Barry, in contrast, is sitting under a huge umbrella, wearing a white T-shirt, jean shorts, and a thick layer of sunscreen.

Suddenly, a huge shadow covers the sun and a loud voice shouts, “Magnus!”

Barry yelps and drops his glass of lemonade on the blanket. Magnus sinks to his knees in the sand so he’s eye-to-eye with the scientist. “You gotta be ready, Bluejeans. Anywhere, anytime.” He smiles over Barry’s shoulder. “I didn’t get you at all, did I?”

Lup has lifted up her hat a little to look at them, but her relaxed position is unchanged, unbothered. She smirks, “You’re going to have to do better than that, Burnsides.”

Magnus winks. “Challenge accepted.” Barry feels like a jellyfish blob on the sand between them.

And then Magnus takes off his shirt.

It takes all of Barry’s self-control not to throw himself into the ocean and let himself drown. Magnus has these ridiculous broad shoulders, an even patch of hair across his chest, and his stomach protrudes over his waistband only slightly in that sexy way. His skin is browned and freckled from long days in the sun and his ridiculous biceps flex as he throws his shirt on the blanket next to them. Barry, in contrast, is a pale potato of a man.

He’s ready to get up and leave them to their flirting when Magnus speaks up. “Well, see ya later!”

Magnus hands Barry his now empty lemonade glass and then stands up, brushing sand off of his hairy legs. He sprints across the beach until he’s met with the resistance of the water, making a huge splash. “Hey! Taako!”

Caught up in conversation with Lup, Barry had forgotten about the wizard. Taako is sitting on his surfboard, floating on large but gentle waves about thirty feet away from shore. He’s retying his long blonde hair up into a messy bun. “Hey, big guy. What’s crackin?”

“Just doing some training, you know?”

“Yeah, you got Barry good.”

“How’s surfing today?”

“It’s going off. I’ve only been in the soup a few times but that was early in the morning. Dawn patrol, am I right?”

Magnus laughs. “Yeah, for sure.” Taako has been almost creating his own language at this point.

Beside Barry, Lup snorts. “What the fuck does that even mean?” she says. “Magnus shouldn’t encourage him like that but, eh, you know how he is with Taako.”

“How he –” Barry looks back over at the fighter and it’s like a crisp breath of air enters his lungs. Magnus has sat himself on the sand with his feet in the water. He rests his chin on his hand and watches Taako prepare to carve another wave. Magnus cheers when the wizard stands on the board and laughs when Taako falls into the water. Taako’s long hair is out of its bounds again, cascading over his bare, dark shoulders. As he climbs onto his surfboard, he flips Magnus off. Magnus blushes.

Magnus blushes and he looks at Taako with stars in his eyes. He looks at Taako the way Barry probably looks at Lup. And Barry realizes how fucking stupid he’s been.

Magnus hasn’t been flirting with Lup. Barry has only seen him flirt when they’re both with Lup and Lup is with Taako. And Barry was so immersed in his own insecurity that he didn’t stop to actually observe what was going on around him. Some scientist he is.

At the end of the day, Barry watches Magnus offer to carry Taako’s surfboard back to the cabin. Taako, forever dramatic, convinces Magnus to carry him back as well. It doesn’t take much convincing. Barry looks at Magnus’s pleased and flustered expression with Taako latched onto his back, complaining, and Barry internally ridicules himself for being so dense.

A few days later, Barry asks Taako to teach him to swim. They work on it every morning for a few weeks. It’s brutal in the beginning – Barry flounders whenever he tries to go horizontal and Taako has a tendency to point and laugh rather than help. But they both get better at it and soon they have an amicable and productive routine. Barry goes from indiscriminately splashing to a solid doggy paddle to an almost front crawl. And Taako claps and coos at him like a proud mother.

On the last day of their morning swimming lessons, Barry thanks him and gets up the courage to have an honest discussion. “There have been times where I haven’t been able to hang out with everybody because y’all go swimming and there are times where there’s people I, like, you know, want to hang out with and I just haven’t been able to do it and that’s not a good look and it makes me look like a big nerd and I um… It’s just that— I just, like— I don’t know. It’s… Never mind, it’s stupid. Thanks for teaching me how to swim.”

“Who are you afraid of looking silly in front of?” Taako asks. They’re both standing waist-deep in the water and Barry tries to make his anxiety dissolve. Taako’s approval means the absolute world in this situation.

“I look up to Lup a lot…” he admits.

And Taako is graciously chill. He places his hand on the scientists’ shoulder comfortingly and speaks with rare seriousness. “Barry, you’re locked in and this wave’s crashing all around you, my man, and I— I don’t begrudge you anything. You know, we’ve lost a lot, uh, and there’s a lot more we might lose...but the one thing we do have is the thing that people in love rarely ever have enough of – and it’s time.” This is a side to Taako that he doesn’t show often, someone genuine and wise and openly affectionate.

The wizard’s words echo in his head often – “You got all the time in the world, my man.”

Barry is feeling relieved and grateful as he walks from the beach that day with his sunhat on. Lup will tease him about his sunburn but it will be worth it to be able to swim with her. As he reaches the part of the beach where sand transforms into foliage, something stops him in his trek – the sight of a hulking figure sitting on a rock. It’s Magnus. “Is this another training thing?” Barry asks cautiously as he approaches.

Magnus doesn’t look up. He seems dejected. “No, it’s not. I’m just thinking.”

“Um,” Barry fidgets with the string on his swim trunks. “You alright? What’s going on?”

“I dunno, you tell me, Barry!” Magnus says, gesticulating with his large hands. “What’s going on with these morning swimming sessions?”

Magnus looks disappointed and self-conscious; a combination Barry is very familiar with. He has to remind himself to close his mouth.

Magnus Burnsides is jealous of Barry Bluejeans.

Barry begins to laugh. This just makes Magnus’s cheeks turn red and his eyebrows furrow even more. “Fine, okay, you don’t need to –”

“No, no,” Barry interrupts, approaching the fighter. He places his hand on Magnus’s huge bicep. “Magnus, I don’t know how to - … Okay. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I’m not worried. You’re a good guy. It’s fine. I just thought that maybe…” Magnus shakes his head, and his expression clears. “I asked him if he could teach me to surf and he said he was too busy teaching you to swim so I guess I was just disappointed because I really wanted to…learn how to surf.”

“Magnus. Taako doesn’t want to…swim with me. And I only asked Taako to teach me because I wanted to swim with Lup.” Magnus looks up at him with hopeful dark eyes. “I really want to swim with Lup. I think I want to swim with Lup for the rest of my life.” Barry chuckles. “For a long time, I thought you wanted to swim with Lup!”

Magnus lets out a startled laugh of his own. “No, I… I want to, uh, swim with Taako. But I’m not sure he wants to swim with me.”

“Well, he doesn’t want to swim with old Barry, that’s for sure.” Barry shrugs. “I can ask Lup, maybe? She’ll know.”

Magnus stands up from the rock. His shoulders are relaxed now. “No, it’s okay. I think he needs more time. I’ll ask him myself one day.”

The Beach World is a gift they didn’t know they needed. They grow closer as a family. Lucretia commemorates it through portraiture. Lup and Taako continue to be firecrackers, burning bright, loud, and dangerous. And Barry and Magnus continue to stare with stars in their eyes.

Merle, Lucretia, and Davenport make bets.

In Cycle 25, Merle wins.

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

Happiness Begins

Part 20

Chapter Summary: When it seems like things couldn’t get any worse, the reader gets a rude awakening. 

Warnings: Language, angst, verbal altercation

Word Count: 2.1K+

Author’s Note: Oh boy, this is a part that I wrote very early on when this story was mostly a concept of vivid scenes all mashed together in my head. It has evolved a lot in the months I have been writing this story and I’m proud of where it has landed. I just have to say, I’m sorry and please don’t hate me. xoxo Alex

Catch up with the series masterlist and check out Alexandra’s Library for more works by yours truly!

It felt like a year later when Trish placed her hand on Y/n’s shoulder, startling her out of her trance state. She wanted to go after Jensen, but was worried about the suspicion that action would raise. But she couldn’t go after Jared, after all, they hadn’t spoken in almost two weeks.

“Is Jared okay?” Her voice was low. Y/n turned her head, noticing the leering eyes of the crew behind Trish. They all had the same question. A question that she just couldn’t answer for them. 

“I should go talk to them.” She offered before walking away from the awkward situation. She headed off in the same direction Jared had gone, though she had no intention of actually going to him. It would only make things worse. If Jared had wanted to talk things out with her, he had plenty of chances to do so. Instead, she went in search of a corner of the lot that would offer the solitude she needed to break down in pieces. 

~

The next week saw no improvement in their situation. Y/n was growing even more antsy than she already was. She had tried to speak with Jared again, hoping to break through to him, even if it was only a small step, before she left Vancouver. Her time on set was quickly coming to an end and she was afraid of what her leaving town might do to their predicament. 

Jared was the one person that she was closest to. The one person who was always there for her no matter what. As the days ticked by, this crushing feeling in her chest kept growing. There was no denying how she had treated her brother was less than favorable, but at the same time she couldn’t deny that Jared was being unreasonable. Picking fights and deliberately avoiding discussion like adults. It was infuriating and frustrating. She wanted to cry eighty percent of the day. 

Unsurprisingly, all of that emotion was overflowing into her relationship with Jensen. At first it felt like they were a team. She had him to lean on. Jensen was her rock and the one person who was in the same boat as she was. They understood each other. Or at least, that is what she had thought. 

After the public altercation on set, their conversations fell tense. At first, she had convinced herself that it was just because the audience that they held. But then it began to seep into his texts as well. He would give her one worded answers and sometimes none at all.

That was what worried her the most. If she was being completely honest, she knew how broken she had become, and as much as she loved Jensen for being there for her, she realized how much she had failed to be there for him. Jared was his best friend after all, brother’s by choice, and Jensen was hurting just as much as she was. It only added to the guilt already weighing on her shoulders. 

Even now, he hadn’t spoken directly to her since she had shooed him out of her makeup chair earlier that morning. She was trying her damndest to fix that. But when he never responded to her suggestion that they hang out at his place, it didn’t do anything for her confidence in her abilities to do so. 

So instead she was trying to just keep her mind occupied. Right now, that was cooking an intricate meal that required her full attention. Maybe this could at least soften up her brother enough for him to sit down and talk to her. 

The soft knock at the door startled Y/n as she set out the ingredients for the dinner she was cooking. There were few people up here in Vancouver who could be knocking on that door. One of which was surely avoiding her. Jared was not home currently, holed up at the gym like he has been a lot these past few weeks, but still, Jensen showing up would be mysterious. That’s why it shocked her even more when it actually was him on the other side of the door. She stepped back and waved him into the apartment. He didn’t say anything as he walked towards the island.

“What are you doing here?” She cut right to the chase as curiosity got the better of her. 

“I came to talk to you.” Jensen knocked his knuckles against the countertop, his brow furrowed as he did so. Things were tense, she was not obtuse to that fact, but there was something about the look on his face that was different right now. He wouldn’t look at her, and it wasn’t like Jared was here to glare at him over her shoulder. 

“Hey, what’s going on with you?” Her voice softened this time. The worry now evident in her voice. 

“I’m trying to figure out how to say this.” He frowned as he watched his finger trail along the pattern in the marble countertop. Her stomach dropped at his statement, the words sending an uneasy feeling through her body. 

“Say what?” She made her way around the island to stand in front of him. He looked up at her when she stopped in front of him, his hand still tracing patterns across the marble. 

“I’m sorry about how cold things have been,” Y/n shrugged at his apology. Did she suspect this chain of events per say? No, but she couldn’t blame him for all that. If anything, she only blamed herself. “I never meant to come between you and your brother.”

“I know you didn’t. But like you said, he’s got to cool down eventually right?” She repeated his mantra back to him. It was the same thing he had been trying to convince her off this whole time. Jensen didn’t return her small smile, if anything, his expression fell more than it already was, which she didn’t think was possible. Her heart sank along with his expression, the anxiety fluttering wildly in her abdomen. There was something wrong with Jensen, she was sure of it now. There was something he wasn’t telling her. 

Jensen sighed deeply before fitting his hands into his coat pockets. “That’s just it, I don’t think he is. I know how close you two were, and you’ve barely spoken these past few weeks. I’ve never seen him like this.” 

“Jared just has a big heart. He just needs a little time.” It felt weird to repeat his own words back to him, but she admits to failing to be there for him. This was the chance to change that and if it meant saying something she didn’t truly believe, she would do that. She would do it for Jensen.

Y/n moved into Jensen, reaching to put her hands around his waist. Surprising her, he stepped back from her advance. Her smile faltered as it seemed her fears were confirmed. Jensen had never rejected her touch, and with the look on his face, that could not mean anything good.

“I think we could all use a little time.”

“What does that mean?” Her tone was clipped as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her mood shifted swiftly with the implication of his words. She wasn’t sure what she thought was swimming around in that head of his, but she certainly was not expecting him to say that. 

“It means that you and your brother haven’t spoken in three weeks. It means I haven’t spoken to one of my best friends unless we are forced into the same room and even then it’s only polite discussion about work. Y/n, I didn’t want to be this destructive force in your life, that was never my intention. I think it’s best for everybody if I just take a step back. From you and from Jared.” He reacted to her short response, his voice rising in volume. He couldn’t help it, the anger was building inside at himself and the situation they were in.

“That’s Jared’s problem. He is the one who is being cold here, not us.” 

“Because we betrayed him, we-” Y/n scoffed as his words sent ice through her veins. The noise effectively shut Jensen up.

“Don’t you dare say ‘we’ betrayed him. I didn’t know anything about him telling you I was off limits, no thanks to you or anybody else in my family. You all decided to just keep that from me. Sure, I did lie to him, I hurt him, but I just wanted to tell him on my own time. I was sick of him meddling in my love life and for once I wanted to figure it out on my own. I don’t think that was too much to ask of him.” Her arms crossed over her chest as the tears began to form in the corners of her eyes. She could feel her nose stinging, and it was only serving to piss her off more. The audacity of Jensen to say that she did anything to knowingly hurt her brother. Never once had Jared made his wishes known to her, and she can’t be blamed for that.

“You’re right. It all just happened so fast, I didn’t know how to stop it.” 

“That’s bullshit and you know it. I was perfectly content after that night to just chalk it all up to a vulnerable, half-drunk indiscretion. And I told you that, explicitly. I would’ve gotten over it, I would’ve moved on. But you insisted on that first date, and I caved to every line you fed me. How much of it was a lie, Jensen?” The tears were now trailing down her reddened cheeks. Every line he had fed her about wanting it to be more than just sex, about wanting to get to know her for her, how much of it was just a line? Because he knew this would not end well, yet he still went for it. And now here they were, when the going gets tough and he’s backing out. He can’t handle the mess that he knowingly created and it couldn’t help but make her think that he never had the intention of going through with this long term. Was she just a warm body to have in his bed until he was back home in Austin? She didn’t know anymore and that made her feel dirty and used.

“None of it, Y/n. I do love you. I want you to be happy, and I know that you can’t be without your brother by your side. That’s all I’m trying to do, is give you your brother back. I can’t try and keep you all to myself, you know you wouldn’t be happy like that.” He was pleading with her to see his point of view. He wasn’t sure what hurt worse, that she could think he had been just trying to get into her pants this whole time or actually breaking up with her. This was exactly what he had wanted to avoid. It killed him that she thought he had just used her to get his dick wet. At the same time, seeing it all from her point of view, he couldn’t exactly blame her. 

Jensen reached out to her, hoping to help calm her, but she flinched when he tried. She actually flinched away from him, and that was what hurt the most. 

“Fuck you, and fuck Jared. All of you men are all the fucking same, you know that? How dare you guys pretend to know what is best for me? I’m a grown woman, I can and will figure it out for myself. So don’t pretend you’re doing this for me when you are really just doing it for yourself.” She spit at him. How she didn’t see this one coming, she wasn’t sure. She had just been that blinded by him. She let herself fall in love with him, and she just ended up burned, like always. It was stupid of her to think that the cycle would change after all these years. 

Jensen licked his lips as he watched her walk away from him. What could he say to that? Somewhere deep down, he believed what she had said was true. His actions were not entirely selfless, he couldn’t deny that. “Y/n,”

“Go! Get out!” She spun on her heel, a small sob ripping from her body as she pointed towards the door. There was nothing else to say, for either of them. Not right now. He simply nodded, his own tears welling up as he left out the door. He hoped that she would forgive him one day, but he didn’t know if that day would ever come. To be honest, he wasn’t even sure if he would deserve it.

Part 21

Forevers:  @spn-impala​​ @22sarah08​​ @turtlepad​​ @callmekda​​ @chaldei​​ @hobby27​​ @cowboysnwinchesters​​ @tranquility-or-chaos​​ @pikabootoyouchu​​ @dawnie1988​​ @grease222​​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ @polina-93​​ @clarinette07​​ @moonlight-babeh​​ @suckerforfanfics​​ @witandnargles​​ @sleepylunarwolf​ @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan​ @geeksareunique​ @akshi8278​

Et Cetera: @jbbarnesgirl​ @hillface89​ @arses21434​ @thevelvetseries​ @sslater34​ @mrsirishboru​ @smoothdogsgirl​ @spnfamily-j2​ @encounterthepast​ @facadeformyrealblog  @supernatural-bellawinchester​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​​ @rebeccathefangirl​ @squirrelnotsam​ @heartinmyhead1​ @1d-killed-me​ @samsgirl93​ @deans-baby-momma​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @woodworthti666​ @supraveng​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @heartsaved​ @know2grow​ @littlewhiterose​ @surprisinglysarah​ @stoneyggirl​ @carryon-doctor-lock​ @thebookisbtr​ @youaremyfiveever​ @kalesrebellion​ @lilulo-12​ @winchester-fantasies​ @vicmc624​ @supernatural3002​ @winchester-writes​ @maralisa124​

[yoongisbabymomma-typing]

Big Fat Crush | Ksj

Pairing | Jin x secretary!reader

Word count | 4.0K

Genre : Fluff

Summary: You’re Jin’s personal secretary he doesn’t want to admit that he has a crush on you until something happens to make him realize he has a big fat crush on you.

A/n: I wanna thank my friend Kathy for editing the story and making it seem more professional. Enjoy the story I haven’t seen too many Jin fanfics so here.

Y/n’s POV

It was close to the end of my eight hour shift, I stretched back and cracked my numb fingers. I missed the sunset, now it was pitch dark outside, though I don't necessarily mind the twinkling of the few distant stars. I work for a big company, By the Kim’s, they are number one in social status everywhere. They could literally walk into any store or place and everyone would be on their knees. I work for the oldest of three Kim’s: Kim Seokjin is the CEO of the company I work for. His younger siblings are Kim Namjoon and Kim Taehyung, who’re both also CEOs.

Jin works all day at the office, I rarely see him leave the place; it’s like his second home. I am his personal secretary, I finish the leftover work he usually has. My interview was impressionable to Jin, because we had recognized each other from our high school days. I was already late, running through the crowded hallway in my heels that weren’t at all tall, but still inducing my anxiety. I tried so hard to look fancy to give off a good impression, as any newcomer would. As I weaved my way through different bodies containing the same excitement mixed with nervousness, I finally made it to the correct room for my interview. “Room 316”, the plaque read. I grabbed the metal handle with a sense of urgency, and my nerves wracked throughout my body as the door opened to reveal the receptionist, a young lady with pursed lips in a gentle smile.

“ Is this the room for the interview of Mr. Kim’s secretary? ” My voice came out in a squeak and I could’ve sworn I saw the corner of the receptionist, Song Yoon Ah’s, lips curl as she tried to hide her laugh.

“ Indeed this is the correct room, may I have your name? ” She already had her hand on the mouse, ready to pull up my profile picture on her computer screen.

“ Um, y/n l/n. ” I saw the computer screen’s light illuminate Ms. Song’s face as a familiar picture of me was shown on her computer screen.

“ Ms. l/n, your number is twenty, there’s only one person before you, so please just take a seat. I have some candy, if you'd like some?” Ms. Song pushed an intricate bowl of different assortments of mints my way. I grabbed four of them, two to calm my nerves and two to make my breath smell fresh, well, I supposed all mints do the latter. After an excruciating twenty minutes, my name and number were finally called. I saw the door open as the previous interviewee exited the room, and I shakily stood up, brushing off any nerves and dust as I walked towards the interview room. Ms. Song had given me two thumbs up in support as she sported her classic pursed-lip smile.

During the interview, I noticed Jin’s eyes moving robotically as if scanning each and every one of my facial features. He would glance curiously from my eyebrows, to my eyes, to my lips on repeat before asking if I attended Bosung High School. This took me by shock, how did he know that I went to Bosung High School? I guess he noticed it, because he was chuckling to himself. I continued to stare at him in bewilderment, a slight image of him floated across my mind, but for the life of me, I couldn’t place who this man was in my memory.

He stood up and asked,

“ Ms. l/n, do you remember me from high school? ”

“ I’m sorry, Mr. Kim, I feel fond of you, however, I can’t quite place who you were in Bosung High School. ” I replied to his previous question, he smiled a smile that made me feel even more nervous as to who he was. It felt like the longest two minutes before a clear memory of him resurfaced in my mind’s eye,

“ Ahh, Mr. Kim, were you in my film class? You were the one that wore glasses..? ” His eyes lit up in recognition of the fond memory and he laughed, the sound of bell charms,

“ Ah, yes, I wore glasses during high school. ” I smiled, the distant memory of his dorky, high school self. He was always late to class, and he always ate a bunch of snacks when our teacher had his back turned towards us. He looks a lot different now, his build less scrawny and more lean. The inky black of his suit made him taller and more intimidating, but little did people know that he was extremely dorky, or at least he was.

“ Since we’re familiar with each other, you can just call me Jin. ” I nodded, and told him to just address me by my first name, too.

Leaving the interview room felt like a weight of thousand sins had been lifted off my shoulders, Ms. Song was eager to ask me how the interview went, to which I nodded and told her that it went well, that Jin and I were actually already accommodated to each other. Ms. Song’s eyes gleamed as she smiled a full smile, revealing her pearly teeth, as she congratulated me.

As I was exiting the hallway from the interview room, I heard my name being called by a familiar voice.

“ Y/n-ah, wait! ” I turned around, it was Jin running to catch up to me.

“ Here, it’s my card. You can call me later and maybe we can go out to dinner or coffee, whenever you’re free. ” He was slightly out of breath, and his outstretched hand shook with nervousness as he handed me the card.

I smiled and took the card from him, “ Thank you, I’ll take you up on the offer. ” The day ended with us scheduling a free day for Jin and I to go out for coffee, to catch up on each other’s lives. A few days later, I got a call from Ms. Song, congratulating me for being hired as Jin’s personal secretary.

Presently, we're in a meeting for a new advertisement. I was taking notes while Jin was watching the presentation.

“ This is our idea for our new advertisement, any questions? ” said Mr. Wang, head of the advertisement department. He was a short, middle-aged man, who was constantly cheery and his wife always baked random goodies for everyone at work.

“ Everything looks good Mr. Wang, we can proceed to the next step. This meeting is adjourned, thank you all for coming. ” Jin stood up and we briskly walked away,

“ Mr. Kim, that was the last thing on your schedule for today, you can go home and rest now. ” I glanced at Jin as he rubbed his face tiredly,

“ No y/n, you can go home first. I have a few papers I need to attend to. ” I greeted him before grabbing my belongings and eagerly heading for home.

The ride home was long, the sky was pitch dark, as always, and the moonlight illuminated the road home. I’d never felt more relieved, yet scared, as I entered my dark house. It was only after flickering on every light in the house and making sure there weren’t any invaders hiding behind shower curtains, under the bed, in the closet, or behind doors, did I feel safe. But just as I was relaxing in my pajamas, ready to binge watch some kdramas, when my phone rang with it’s rude alarm as the caller ID showed an idiot. I almost considered not picking up, almost.

“ Hey Chan! ”

“ Yah, y/n-ah, let’s go out to the club~ ” came the whiny voice on the other side of the line, he always bothers me when I’m about ready to enjoy the rest of my day spending time alone.

“ Why? I just came home and― ” I was rudely interrupted by his obnoxious voice,

“ I’ll be there in twenty minutes, be ready~ ”

Chan ended the call abruptly, “ Great, I came home ready to relax, just to have to go out again. Ugh. ” The scowl on my face couldn’t be more pronounced. I rushed fixing my makeup and figuring out a cute outfit to wear. As I was finishing, I heard a honk, and a glance out the window revealed Chan’s car parked on the side of my house. I sprinted through the house, double checking for invaders, even though I was the only one home for the last few hours, I just had to be sure. I flicked off every light in the house, grabbing an extra jacket since it tends to get colder during the nights, before locking the door and greeting Chan in his car.

“ Hey y/n, looking spicy~ ” Chan looked at me over his sunglasses, I don’t even know why this idiot is wearing sunglasses DURING THE NIGHT. I mean, aren’t they called SUNglasses for a reason??

I surveyed Chan up and down before saying, “ You look good too Chan, I guess. ” Chan gasped and whipped his head around so fast, I could’ve sworn he was about to snap his own neck,

“ Girl...you didn’t! ” I laughed at his exasperated cry as he continued to whine.

“ Let’s just go, I want to go home early. ” He started the ignition and we were off to the nightclub. We arrived at the club and Chan and I fought over parking space with a black SUV, Chan rolling down his window aggressively before flipping off the driver, who simply smirked at Chan. I could’ve sworn I saw Chan blush. I know I did.

Inside, Chan and I went straight to the bar because I insisted on something to get me going. After downing a couple of shots, we started to dance, no dirty dancing, just two friends dancing around drunkenly like everybody else was. After a few minutes of failed dancing, Chan whispered to me, “ Hey girl, I’m going to find a boyfriend, see ya! ” I laughed at him and he smacked my ass, “ Yah Chan! You made me come here, and now you’re ditching me? ” I saw Chan walking towards some figure in the back, he looked so familiar. That’s when I realized it was the SUV driver from earlier, that douchebag Chan. I knew he caught feelings.

I went to the bar to grab a few more shots before leaving, but I got a tap on my shoulder,

“ Hey y/n. ” I turned around and it was another familiar face,

“ Oh hey Jackson, what are you doing here? ”

He sat beside me and ordered a drink for himself, “ I need a little break from work so I came here to have fun. What about you? ” We engaged in conversation back and forth before Jackson invited me to the dance floor.

Jin’s POV

I was finally done with my papers when I got a call from one of my close friends,

“ Hey Jimin. ”

“ Jin, you wanna go to the club today? ” My friend’s eager voice insinuated he really wanted someone to go with him. Since I was already finished with work, and I needed some distraction, I guess it wouldn’t hurt.

“ Sure, I’ll meet you there. ”

As I parked, I heard Jimin call my name from afar, “ Yah! Let’s go in, Jin! ”

We walked in and the hostess invited us upstairs to a table in the VIP section. Some girls tried to come over and sit with us, promising a good time, but Jimin and I both declined. He had a girlfriend, and I had a tiny crush on someone. We ordered our drinks and waited around for them to be made.

“ So how was work, Jin? ” Jimin fiddled with his gold watch as he viewed the dancing crowd below the VIP section.

“ It was good. The usual. ” A brunette waitress brought us our drinks on a gold tray, we thanked her and she nodded before leaving us by ourselves again.

“ Hey Jin, isn’t that y/n? ” I paused from sipping my drink, a glance down at the dance floor revealed y/n with some guy laughing.

“O-oh, it is… ”

Jimin smirked, “ Aren’t you going to tell y/n about your long time crush on her? ”

“ I don’t have a crush on her. ” I denied it, what does he know about crushes anyway?

“ Yes, you do. Jin, you’re staring holes into the poor guy’s back. ” So maybe he was right, maybe I did in fact have a tiny crush on y/n. So maybe he was also right about me being too hesitant to confess to her due to my fear of rejection. I know he was certainly right about me staring holes into the back of whatever douchebag was dancing beside y/n.

I was planning to look away when I saw the guy slap y/n’s ass, that does it, “ No man should touch a woman like that. ”

“Jin, calm down. I thought you only had a small crush.” Jimin wiggled his eyebrows, a smirk playing on his lips. He was right. I did have a big, fat crush on y/n in high school. She was so quiet and beautiful, she helped me once when I lost my glasses. I was scared and blind, I went on my knees to find my glasses, but I couldn’t feel them anywhere on the ground. At least not until an angelic voice rang out, her footsteps stopping right where I was on the ground.

“ Here, ” She gently placed the glasses on my outstretched palm, before helping me stand up again.

“ T-thank you...” I said as I put them back on. I could finally see her clearly for the first time, and that first memory of her has been etched into my mind forever. She said goodbye and smiled a quaint smile before leaving. I saw her again at school, she was in a class with me. I stalked her Instagram, hoping one day to earn the courage to confess, but obviously, that never occurred.

Back to the present, I was marching down the stairs to the dance floor in my attempt to spot y/n. Swerving through the sweaty dancing bodies, I found her talking with Jackson, laughing. It was then that I decided I was going to confess to her. After all this time, right here, in a dance club, right now, years later, I’ve earned the courage to confess to her. I was going to confess my feelings and ask her out.

“ Hey y/n. ” Came my determined voice, I could feel my confidence slipping as soon as those words exited my lips, what in the world was I thinking?

Y/n POV

“ Hey y/n. ”

I turned away from Jackson and saw Jin, “ Oh hey, Jin. ” He fiddled with the watch on his wrist.

“ Y/n, can we talk privately somewhere else? ” Jin looked nervous, I’d seen him nervous before, but this time, it was a different type of nervous. He kept glancing at Jackson and appeared to be in a rush.

“ Uh, sure. Bye Jackson, I’ll see you later. ” I waved to Jackson and he grinned before Jin and I exited the club and proceeded to walk to my house together.

The walk to my house was peaceful, save more Jin’s nervous energy which made my nerves act up too. At my house, I offered him coffee to drink and we sat down at the dining table and I realized I didn’t tell Chan that I was leaving. I was slightly worried about Chan, but he’s a big boy, and I’m sure he can find his way home. Hopefully, he doesn’t drink and drive, though. I might have to go back for him...my brain wandered aimlessly as we sat in silence before I asked the question that had been lingering in my mind ever since we left the club. myI

“ So Jin, what did you want to talk about? ” I stared at him with doe eyes.

“ I wanted to say you look breathtaking y/n, and I wanted to ask you something. ” He fidgeted with the edge of his coffee mug.

“ Oh thank you, Jin. You also look good yourself! Go ahead and ask me whatever’s on your mind. ”

“ So y/n, do you have a boyfriend or anyone you’re interested in? ” He nervously glanced up to meet my eyes. His brown eyes were filled with a desperate look, almost pleading me for an answer.

“ Yes, I do, in fact, have someone I am interested in. ” I replied, smiling. However, Jin looked a bit hurt and a slight tint of jealousy boiled in his brown eyes, but I didn’t say anything about it.

“ Who is this person? What are they like? ” He asked, his full attention on me now. No hint of the nervous man just a few seconds ago, existed in this man, sitting before me now. His eyes were filled with a sense of determination now, determination for what, I don’t quite know.

I smiled, “ Hmm...lemme think. Well, he’s handsome, tall, broad shoulders, and fun― ”

“ You can stop now, y/n. ” He looked at me with teary eyes, all that determination diminished as fast as it came.

“ What’s wrong, Jin? Why are you tearing up? ” I walked over to him and wiped his eyes with my thumb, handing him a napkin along with it. He looked so sad, nothing like the man I knew from work. He clasped his hands tightly around mine, the warmth of his hands embraced my cold ones.

“ Why can’t it be me y/n? Why can’t you talk about me like that? ” His voice broke off towards the end, the desperate plea of a man stripped of his pride.

I tried to speak, but he cut me off, “ I want you to like me back, and I want you to look at me like I do to you. I want you to date me and marry me later, and have a family I want― ”

I cut him off with a kiss, “ You know you talk a lot, ” I smiled, “ From my description, I would have thought it was obvious I was talking about you. ”

Jin was a blushing and mumbling mess, but somehow he managed to say, “ I should have known you were talking about me when you said handsome. I mean, look at me, I’m Mr. Worldwide Handsome. ” We laughed loudly as I hugged his waist and he rested his chin atop my head,

“ So...is that a ‘yes’ to be my girlfriend? ”

I rolled my eyes, “ Yes, Jin I just confessed my love for you with that kiss. ” He laughed and hugged me tighter, before letting me go.

“ Oh and one more thing y/n, ”

I glanced up at Mr. Worldwide Handsome, confusion taking over my features, “ Yes? ”

“ Who was that man that touched my girlfriend’s ass? ” He looked at me with expectant eyes, waiting patiently for my explanation.

I snorted, “ Oh it’s Chan, my gay best friend. ”

Jin choked on his coffee, “ Oh, that’s great to know. You know what, I think it’s late. I'll see you tomorrow. ” I patted his shoulder and walked with Jin to the door. He was halfway out the door when he turned and came closer to me and gave me a kiss and ran to his car. I giggled and went to bed, feeling giddy even as the dawn broke the next morning.

I was in the hallway of the company, walking towards my desk. I noticed an expensive bouquet of roses on my desk. Confusion was my first reaction, until Ms. Song handed me a card wrapped in lace, her eyes gleaming with expectation and excitement. I could’ve sworn the entire office fell silent, all of my coworkers eavesdropping on my reaction to the card.

I untwined the lace and opened the note: “ Dear y/n, hello love, I wanted to say I love you and that I hope you enjoy these overpriced roses I bought, just for you. You can pay me back in kisses, cuddles, and compliments; those are the only payments I take. See you in a few, sincerely, your handsome future husband. ” I scoffed reading the cheesy notes, my cheeks flushed nonetheless, and my smile stretching from ear-to-ear.

My deskmates started to flood my desk, “ Oh my gosh, y/n those are beautiful flowers! Who sent them?”

I smiled, “ I will not disclose my love life with you guys, now scram. ” A collective sigh filled with disappointment and pouts regressed back to their desks. Ms. Song, however, was still smiling her pursed-lip smile. The entire day I was in a cheerful mood and my coworkers continued to pester me for the information on the card, but I ignored them, and they would continue to walk away dejectedly.

It was now night, and I was going to leave home when I heard a familiar voice calling out to me, “ Y/n baby, wait! ” I turned around and so did my coworkers so fast it was scary. Jin ran up to me and held my hand, everyone gasped.

Jin looked around and said, “ What? Isn’t it normal to hold your girlfriend’s hand? ” Everyone gasped again, some almost fainted, Jin looked back proudly, “ Yes, everyone. My girlfriend is y/n so no one better flirt with her or you’re fired. ”

Someone from the back remarked, “ Finally, they’re dating. It was so obvious! ” Jin and I turned and looked at each other, “ Obvious? ”

Someone else from the right corner replied, “ Yeah! Every time someone was getting close to y/n, Mr. Kim stared holes into that person and vice-versa. ”

We blushed a deep shade of red, “ Anyway, y/n and I are leaving. Bye, everyone. Have a good night. ” We left together. A few months later Jin and I were married. Two months after the wedding we found out I was pregnant and everyone was happy. Jin and I were super nervous to be parents sure we babysat before but this is a whole new ball game. Back to present I am now in the delivery room welcoming our first child.

“ YAH! KIM SEOKJIN, WHY DIDN'T YOU USE PROTECTION?! ” I glanced angrily at Jin, who nervously held my left hand.

“ I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!!! ” I was pushing the baby out, while holding Jin’s hand and yanking his hair.

“ Ah- y/n I’m sorry! I’ll do better next time, please stop hurting my handsome face and I! You’re going to leave me bald, honey! ” Jin pleaded desperately.

“ YOU BETTER DO BETTER OR ELSE I AM GOIN― ” I felt the baby coming out mid-sentence.

“ Mrs. Kim, keep pushing! The baby is almost here! ” The doctor informed me and I screamed and pushed with everything I had left in me. I heard a baby crying and I laid there limp on the bed.

I heard Jin crying, “ You did good, baby! ” He gently kissed my head.

“ Here Mr. Kim, you can hold your baby. ” Jin held the baby and was smiling like he won an immeasurable amount of money, “ Look, she has your eyes and my nose, honey. Thank you y/n for everything, I love you. ” He whispered and I smiled faintly at the crying baby in his arms.

“ I love you too, Jin, and our new family member. ”

The doctor reappeared, “ What is the baby’s name? ”

Jin and I looked at each other, “ Kim Yeji. ”

[deermi]

Wonderwall | Part 4

Summary: He was a genius. He had absolutely everything. Money, fame, attention of all the celebrities, sports cars that everybody wanted, countless villas, and much more. The life every single person wanted to live. But all he needed was you.

Genre: Angst (I guess)

Warnings: Alcohol use

AU: Fashion CEO

Pairing: Kwon Jiyong x Reader

Word count: 3k~

Author’s note: Ah, I have so wany wips that I don’t know which ones to post. Anyways, “Wonderwall” will most probaby have 6/7 parts and an epilogue. I hope you liked this chapter and thank you for reading it!

We had spent the dinner rather quietly - eating, drinking, exchanging a few sentences from time to time. The waiters had been ogling our pair almost without any shame as we had sat at the table. I don’t know whether it had been because they had known who the man with neon green hair is, or because we had been acting so strangely around each other. Perhaps both reasons were correct. The atmosphere between us hadn’t been awkward nor stiff in the restaurant. It had been filled with some kind of tension, but I couldn’t have quite put my finger on it.

Now we were back in his car, heading to a destination that remained unknown for me. But I didn’t want to ask feeling like it would’ve been just another question of mine he’d ignore. It was so quiet inside the vehicle, the only sounds coming from the streets as we strolled around the city, that I had a feeling like the beating of my heart was as loud as a drum put next to Mr Kwon’s ear.

“You’re not going to ask where we’re going?” 

I turned my head around with my brows furrowed at his sudden question. My boss had one of his hands on the steering wheel, the other resting lazily on the door of the car while his eyes were concentrated on the road ahead of us. 

“I didn’t feel like it.” I answered bluntly, trying not show any interest in our destination

He glanced at me with the corner of his eye before focusing back on the traffic. There must’ve been a visible spark of unquenchable curiosity he had noticed because in a few seconds I heard his voice once more.

“We’re going to my place.” Mr Kwon nonchalantly moved his hair out of his eyes with his free hand

I bit on my tongue before blurting out the ‘what for’ that had almost slipped out of my lips. Instead I just nodded at his words and started to stare at the city lights out of the window back again. We strolled down, the dim brightness coming from the street lamps shining through the windows, making everything inside the vehicle appear yellowish. There were almost no people outside, making the night even quieter than I had previously thought it is. No usual honking of the cars, no roaring of engines, no sound coming from the radio.

That scene surrounding me was calming. Or at least should’ve been like that. However, with the knot of anxiety tightening inside my stomach, I wasn’t able to focus on the soothing silence.

It was madness. Pure madness. All the things that had happened since that damned photoshoot. Modeling, asking for my opinion, giving me a lift, and that dinner we just had. And telling me to call him Jiyong was on top of the peak. I had never heard of a boss asking one of his employees to call them by their first name. It was just another level of intimacy I would’ve never even thought of reaching. Moreover, it was completely unprofessional, especially that he insisted I did it at our workplace as well. It was just the first step to cause the rumors both among the workers and the world of celebrities. Although, it seemed to me that Mr Kwon either didn’t care about that, or simply wanted to cause them. What for? More fame? Recognition? I already had that. So maybe for himself? To make himself feel better by having someone close?

And then it hit me. The sudden realisation made me snap out of the transe I had been in for those few minutes of our ride.

I had never seen Mr Kwon with a friend, a colleague, or even talking to anybody who could’ve been one of them on the phone. Not mentioning a partner. All I could think of when I thought of him was hard work and absolute focus on it. He had his goals and always gave his all to reach them. And he actually did everytime - with his genius mind and determination he was almost destined to be successful. But what if behind this cold facade of strong will, was just a lonely soul which desperately needed comfort in the shape of another person’s warmth? What if he finally had enough of always being alone? Of being expected to be the genius who created ‘Peaceminusone’?

The heavy thoughts inside my head were suddenly interrupted by Mr Kwon stopping the car in front of a tall building. He turned off the engine and got out of the vehicle without sparing me a glance. I unbuckled my seatbelt hurriedly, fidgeting with the strap, ready to follow him. When it snapped roughly against the seat I reached out to grab the door handle, but it quickly flew out of my reach once Mr Kwon opened the door. I looked up and noticed that he was staring at me with his eyebrows raised.

Without a word he outstretched his hand for me to take, just like he had done it before in front of the restaurant. Once more I placed my palm on his and let him pull me out of the car.

While he was closing the door behind me, my eyes flew up to the sky. Mr Kwon had parked the car in front of a tall skyscraper. The windows of the building glistened as city lights reflected in them making it look like it was made out of black shiny crystal. My breath hitched in my throat at the sight. I felt so small facing the enormous structure, but the view was so beautiful and so overwhelming at the same time, I couldn’t help it.

It was weird how a simple skyscraper made me feel like that. Actually the stifling part of it was the thought that it was the place, or more probably one of the places, my boss lived in. And he was taking me inside with him - completely crossing the line drawn between the company’s boss and their employee once more.

We entered the building with his hand on the small of my back. The heels I was wearing were loudly tapping on the marble floor, completely breaking the silence inside the lobby. The man standing behind the reception desk bowed without a word at the sight of me and Mr Kwon entering. My boss led me to the elevator, without sparing a glance to the guy, and pressed the button. I felt the eyes of the receptionist burning holes in my back as we patiently waited. With the ring the door in front of us opened revealing the lightened inside of the elevator. Once we were alone within the four walls and the curious stare of the man was cut off, I let out a quiet sigh of relief while Mr Kwon was busy pressing the button at the very top of a long row of them.

Again any of us didn’t say a word letting the silence fill the space between us. I didn’t move, didn’t even dare to look at the mirror next to me, afraid that my reflection would reveal how stressed I actually was. And after what felt like eternity the door opened revealing the place my boss wanted me to see.

The enormous penthouse in front of my eyes almost literally shone with luxury. The glass chandelier above hanged above our heads making the light reflect in the stone floor as we stepped inside the living room, which was probably the size of my whole apartment, or even bigger. Everything inside just screamed ‘expensive’ - the leather sofa, the black television set, the huge window wall through which you could see the city lights shine below your feet. And above all, every single piece of furniture, every square meter of that space, reminded me of Mr Kwon. It was just his place. His place that I was invading despite the fact that he had invited me here. I felt like I just didn’t belong there.

“What wine do you prefer?” 

I turned my head around to see my boss taking off his tuxedo jacket in one swift move before walking up to a glass cabinet full of different types of alcohol and opening it. 

“Um…” I took a glance at the numerous bottles, not sure what to say, since there was surely a huge variety available “White. Semi sweet.”

Without any answer Mr Kwon just grabbed one of the wines along with two glasses. He walked up to a coffee table in front of the leather sofa and placed everything on the surface. Swiftly he opened the bottle and began to pour the clear liquid into the tumblers. 

In the meantime I came closer to the window. The view in front of me was absolutely breathtaking. Seeing the whole city shine beautifully during the night and having it almost literally at my feet was one of the most picturesque sights I had ever seen in my life.

When Mr Kwon finished pouring the wine, he approached me with a glass in each hand and handed out one of them. The smell of sweet alcohol reached me before my fingers wrapped around the fragile crystal. He gently bumped his tumbler into mine, making the sound of clattering echo inside the room.

I took a sip of the drink feeling the slightly bitter flavour on my tongue. The taste was much different from the taste of the wine you could get in any supermarket, making me wonder how much was this alcohol actually worth.

With the glass still against my lips I turned around to look at the night sky again.

“Do you like it?” Mr Kwon asked me

“The view?” I glanced at him with the corner of my eye and saw him giving me a single nod before sipping on the wine “Yes. I actually like it a lot.”

“Do you want it every day?” his another question hanged in the air for a few seconds as I started to process his words “Do you want to be able to see it every day?”

“What do you mean?” I asked with a small voice, afraid of what might come next

“I can buy you an apartment like this one.” he answered nonchalantly like it was something completely normal

I immediately shook my head abruptly trying to get that idea out of his head “Thank you, Jiyong. But I really can’t ac-“

“Or you can stay here with me.”

I almost choked on the wine.

“W-what?”

In response he shrugged with his eyes focused on the view in front of us and said “You’ll do whatever you want. It’s your decision.”

For a few seconds none of us said anything, as his words echoed in my head.

“Just say a word and you’ll get anything you want.” he added

I took a shaky breath trying to ignore my heart beating loudly against my ribcage. I took another sip of the wine hoping the alcohol would give me either more courage, or help me relax.

“Okay.” I whispered quickly with the glass pressed against my lips

We were just looking out of the window, absorbing the night view in front of us with the bitter taste on both of our tongues. I desperately drank up the liquid looking for some kind of relief in it. Mr Kwon, without any warning, took the glass from my hands and walked up to where the bottle was standing to refill it along with his. While he was busy pouring the drink I took a few hesitant steps toward the sofa standing in the middle of the room. My boss’ eyes followed me as I plopped down on the leather seat, feeling the material of the black dress I was wearing fold against the skin of my legs. 

If Mr Kwon had had something against my actions, he hadn’t spoken a it out loud, but I was slowly starting to get used to the thought that I was allowed to do almost everything here.

 I didn’t know wether it was the alcohol that made me feel slightly dizzy, or the atmosphere between me and Mr Kwon. Yet I felt somehow weightless - the boundaries that had previously stopped me from doing what I wanted around my boss began to disappear.

He sat down next to me, resting his arm on the back of the couch and handed me the wine. His eyes carefully scanned my frame as I took the glass from his hands and drained out the whole liquid from inside.

Did I want to get drunk? Maybe. But I for sure wanted to feel even lighter, even more immune to anything that was happening around me for the past few days. It was all so bizzare and almost completely inimaginable. Still, it was the reality that I had to live in. I wanted to make it easier, less stressful, or I wanted to give myself more courage to bear with it. And I wanted to do it as fast as possible. 

“Can I have more?” I asked quietly, looking Mr Kwon in the eyes for the first time in forever

He stared at me with his obsidian dark orbs for a moment before grabbing the bottle and pouring the liquid into my glass until the very last drop. Once more I pressed the tumbler against my lips and let more alcohol run through my veins.

My visit to this place was just the beginning and I was fully aware of that. How could I handle more? What could come next?

I wasn’t afraid of Mr Kwon - yes, he was cold for most of the time, but the realisation that had hit me during our ride was helping me understand his actions at least to some extent. Were I his remedy? Were I the warmth he lacked? Or maybe something different? A person others would describe as a muse, an inspiration?

“What are you thinking about?” Jiyong’s quiet voice pierced through my thoughts, making me look at him as I let my head fall down on the back of the seat behind me

“Nothing important.” I whispered not trusting my voice enough to speak louder

My eyelids felt heavier than before, the alcohol finally rushing to my head. I closed my eyes and started to take slow, deep breaths, the silence in the room calming me down. Mr Kwon slowly took out the empty glass from my hands and I heard him placing it on the table along with his. I felt his burning gaze on my face as everything went quiet once more.

“You’re beautiful.” the subtle touch of his fingers slowly caressing my cheek made me look at him, immediately locking my eyes with his dark ones “So beautiful.”

And before I could even realise, Jiyong’s lips gently touched mine. I had to proceed what was happening because it felt so unreal. The breath caught in my throat at his actions as I looked straight ahead dumbfoundedly, feeling stonecold sober for a few seconds. I couldn’t push him away - I didn’t know wether I even wanted to do that. So I let my eyelids fall down as I kissed him back slowly without any emotions. There was nothing in the kiss - it was empty. No love, no passion, not even lust. No anything. Just lips moving against lips, skin against skin.

His mouth pressed more firmly on mine when he felt me kissing him back. He moved his hand that had previously been caressing the skin of my cheek to my waist. Jiyong tilted his head to deepen the kiss and swiftly swiped his tongue against mine. 

My body felt numb, head empty, no thoughts. I let the alcohol in my veins work for me.

His grip on my waist got stronger and he moved me to sit on his lap without disconnecting our lips. The dress rode up my thighs, revealing more skin of my legs, as I straddled him with my palms pressed on his shoulders to steady myself. I let his tongue explore my mouth making the bitterness of wine strengthen on my lips. Jiyong’s kisses were desperate, firm. His skilled mouth worked against mine making me feel dizzy not from the emotions coming from it, but the alcohol taking control over my body.

He pulled mt flush against his chest making me grip the soft material of his white shirt. He pressed another open mouthed kiss to my lips before pulling away, lacking air as much as I did. His forehead was pressed against mine, while his hand rose up from my waist and moved the loose hair away from my face.

“Stay for the night.” Jiyong’s voice was soft yet firm

I could’ve said no. But for some reason I didn’t. Perhaps because of the boost of confidence the wine had given me. Or maybe because some part of me wanted to be what would fix him, make him feel better.

“Okay.”