#but for real though thank you and i love you and i hope you have a great next year <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[moonchildstyles]

rosemary for halloween?👀

wordcount: 4k+

—————

Harry frowned at his reflection. 

While he loved (Y/N) more than anything, and would do anything for her, he wondered if he finally found limitations to that philosophy. 

Because dressing up like a sailor just to match with her for a Halloween party was beginning to look like the line he needed to draw in the sand. The ascot was bad enough, he doubted the hat that was looming on the bed behind him was going to make this outfit any better. 

The familiar sound of perfume being sprayed from the bathroom told Harry he didn't have much time left to fiddle with his costume before (Y/N) would appear to fawn over him and make him change his mind. In an impulse move, he attempted to tug off the ascot around his neck and hide it away in a pocket she could see. 

All hope was lost just as (Y/N) emerged from the bathroom in a plume of sparkles and sea salt. Her hair was styled full of pearls and glimmering sea glass clips, matching the shifting blue and purple iridescent glitter spread across her eyelids. There weren't many places on her body that weren't imbued with a sparkling sheen, giving the effect of shimmering mermaid skin. Her top was little more than a decorated bralette cinched in a thick band around her ribs, emulating a pair of scallop shells studded with pearls and shards of sea glass. Her high waisted bottoms were a tight fit around her hips and thighs before fanning out after her knees, mimicking that of a mermaid's tail. The material was a swirl of pearly threads, shifting with pinks and purples, teals and bioluminescent greens. Her bag for the night—the purchase that inspired the costume—was a golden seashell. 

Harry, distracted by the sight of the swathes of skin she had on display—a strip of her soft stomach, the slope of her neck and sparkling décolletage, her pretty, manicured hands—didn't catch the way her entire face lit up when she saw him. 

"You look so cute, honey!" she bubbled, rushing towards him with her hands reaching out towards his collar. 

(Y/N) preened over him, a bright smile on her glossy lips. The ascot he attempted to rip off was smoothed down, his shirt straightened, and the epaulettes on his shoulders patted down. 

He wanted so badly to keep up the attitude he gained while looking in the mirror, but not a shred of it remained when she smiled at him like that. 

"Y'like it?" he murmured, his own lips creeping into a short curl. 

"I love it!" She beamed up at him with her hands going stationary on the planes of his chest. "I know you weren't sure about it, but I'm so happy we match. Thank you." 

Moving on instinct, he lent down and pressed his lips to hers, uncaring about the glitter that would no doubt transfer to his own skin. 

"'M happy we match too," he smiled against her skin, the tip of his nose knocking against her own, "I don't think anyone's going to be looking at me, anyway. Not when 'm standing next to you." 

Her grin turned giddy, only widening when Harry encouraged her to twirl before him. "Do you like it?! I think I put on too much body glitter, but I can't go back now." 

He shook his head. "'S perfect. Look like a real mermaid. Y'would have lured me right to the sea, no doubt." 

She keened under his attention, canting her head with a flutter of her lashes. "I couldn't do that, though—I wouldn't want to hurt you." 

"I'd learn how to breathe underwater, then," he answered simply. He would find any solution if it meant he could be with her. 

Her answering laugh was enough to have him eager to wear any and every silly costume she wanted. This reaction was always going to be worth wearing an ascot and sailor's cap. 

"You're sweet, H," she crooned, surging to her tiptoes to share another kiss. He chased after her when she pulled away, drawing one more kiss from her before she made a step away towards her closet. "Are you ready to go?" 

Harry answered with a nod, hoping she didn't notice the hat missing from the top of his head. 

"Perfect!" she chirped, "I need to put my shoes on, and then we can go!" 

Just short of breathing a sigh of relief, Harry figured himself to be in the clear by the time she slinked into her closet. 

Until, of course, she called out to him. "Oh, and don't forget your hat!" 

He wanted so badly to frown, to groan and tell her he didn't want to wear the hat. But none of that came out. Only a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. 

There was a time in his life that he never thought he would have anyone that would want to spend these kinds of nights with him, let alone in a planned out matching outfit. Even if it felt a bit silly, there wasn't a single bone in his body that was going to say no to something like this.

"I won't, peach." 

—————

Despite the sweat beginning to slick his palm, Harry didn't pull his hand out from (Y/N)'s. 

While he was growing more used to the idea of large and loud crowds of people—especially crowds that knew him and made a point to say hello when he walked by—but there was still much more progress to be made in that department. Sabrina's Halloween party was one of his bigger trials, that was for sure. (Y/N) was his only anchor, her hold on his hand being the only thing that kept him from running through an obsessive cycle of spying all exits and attempting to scan each face around him for anyone suspicious. 

Though, tonight, it was a bit hard to see from scanning the room, if only to get a view of all of the costumes and decorations around them. Sabrina's annual halloween party was something Harry had only recently learned about, but (Y/N)'s excited descriptions made the space as familiar to him as his own. As she promised, faux cobwebs were stretched across walls and stuffed in corners. Streamers and metallic fringe hung from doorways, the visages of classic horror tropes were scattered on the walls, including decals of blood spatters that Harry made a point not to look at for too long. Everything was orange and purple, black all throughout. Music played throughout the space, though it was decidedly softer than most of his experiences when it came to house parties. 

Harry saw many familiar faces among the party goers, though more often than not they were disguised in costumes and altering makeup. There were plenty of Barbies, and angels, a few fairies and sexy iterations of mundane professions all throughout, being broken up by even more silly costumes. Video game and movie characters stuck out in iconic silhouettes. Many couples and friends were in matching costumes like the one he was in (though there weren't any other mermaids and sailors as far as he could see). More than a few lent into the season with spooky costumes, fake blood and weapons at their sides. Those were not Harry's favorite. 

Especially not when he felt a little flush when he saw the liberal use of blood on some costumes.

There was no way Harry was going to be peeling himself away from (Y/N)'s side. Even if he was beginning to feel a little like a potted plant while he listened to her converse with her friends. 

"But, you don't mind, right, H?" 

Blinking back to earth, Harry saw (Y/N) looking up at him with an affectionate smile and a familiar face from his days of sitting in at the bakery looking at him expectantly. His mouth fell into a gape as he attempted to find the answer to a question he wasn't listening to. 

"Um," he started, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue, "Sorry, what?" 

(Y/N) didn't look all that surprised to realize he hadn't been paying much attention to the conversation. "You like the costumes, right?" 

"Oh, yeah." He automatically nodded, looking at (Y/N)'s friend. "They were her idea."

A laugh bubbled from the woman, a joke Harry hadn't heard before now coming into play. (Y/N)'s hand pulsed around his own, her smile bright as she gazed up at him. 

"Next year, I'll have to see if he'll be the mermaid," (Y/N) laughed, her nose scrunching while her friend joined in. 

In the back of his mind, Harry was sure he should have tuned back in when the chattering started up once more, but he just couldn't. Was there ever going to be a time when he wasn't completely enamored, just short of being brought to his knees, when she muttered something so innocent like plans for the future? Was that ever not going to steal his breath? The idea of having a future and stability and someone for the rest of his life? 

(At least, he hoped (Y/N) would be with him for the rest of his life. He'd just have to scrounge up the courage to ask her one day).

Soon enough, (Y/N)'s friend bid a short goodbye, promising to see them around the party, before they were left to meander around. 

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom to look at my makeup, if you want to come," she said, looking up at him with a soft smile, "Unless you want to go get a drink or something." 

He didn't have to think before he was shaking his head. "I'll go with you." 

(Y/N) turned with that pretty smile on her face as she led him through the partygoers, taking a seemingly familiar route towards the restroom. Sabrina and others spotted (Y/N) as they passed, saying hello with glassy eyes and praising her costume in slurred comments. Every slowed step while she engaged in the short conversation, she never left him out, immediately pointing out that they went together. 

Harry was sure a flush was beginning to creep up his neck by the time the third person stopped them.

Lucky for them, by the time they successfully reached the restroom, it was empty. Slipping inside, Harry shut the door behind them. It was a small bathroom, leaving little room between them while (Y/N) turned towards the mirror. 

In the quiet of the restroom, Harry felt his lungs finally expand to capacity. It wasn't hard being at (Y/N)'s side while she was a social butterfly, but it was exhausting trying to remind himself everything was okay when there were so many people around them. He'd learn one day; his body would catch up one day. That's what (Y/N) told him, anyway. 

"You doing okay?" she asked, catching his eye in the mirror while she scraped a rogue glitter away from the corner of her eye. 

"Yeah," he muttered, nodding his head. "Jus'... a lot still, I think." 

"I know. We don't have to stay too much longer, though. I just want to hang out with Sabrina a little bit, and then we'll be free." 

"'S okay," he shook his head, his fingers a knot behind his back, "We don't have to leave until y'want. I'll be fine." 

Abandoning the reflection, (Y/N) turned towards Harry with a cant to her head. Her features were made of soft lines and affectionate eyes. "It's no fun if you're not having a good time, H." 

"I am, I am," he insisted, even if the deep breath he took in wasn't all that convincing. "Halloween is fun." 

At this, she couldn't help but to let out a bubbling laugh. "Is it?" she teased, crossing the short space between them to wrap his middle in her arms. His body moved on instinct, draping his arms around her shoulders. "If you have to say it like that, I have a feeling it's not really true." 

He could feel his expression loosening as he gazed down at her. If this were another life, and he were a sailor out on the sea, it would only take a glimpse of her between the waves to have him swimming out into the unknown. Though that was what he figured his real life was like anyway; she was the lighthouse that guided him to a new shore, away from everything he knew before. Now, here he was, at someone's home on Halloween night in a sailor's costume. And he wouldn't want to be anywhere else. 

"I jus' like being with you, peach," he admitted, "If you're happy, so am I." 

"You're gonna make me cry," she laughed, eyes shimmering like her eyeshadow, "I really do want to go home soon, though. This outfit isn't as comfortable as I want it to be." 

A pinch appeared between his brows. He knew the corset-like fit of her top was what she wanted, but he'd worried about how well she was going to be able to breathe. "Are you okay?" he asked, his hands beginning to frantically trace around her form. 

"I'm okay, honey," she assured, leaning up to press a soft kiss to the point of his chin, "I think I'm just ready for some pajamas." 

He could work with that. He could make sure they were safe and comfortable at home soon; if he was fast enough, he might even be able to throw her pj's into the dryer while she takes off her makeup, leaving them warm for her once she was ready. 

"'M ready whenever y'are, peach." 

This time, when she raised to the tips of her toes, she met his lips with her own. It was a short kiss, hidden away from the rest of the world, but still more than enough to draw his heart into pounding against his ribs. 

This kiss was urging him to take back his earlier words. He should have told her he wanted to head home immediately. 

—————

"Oh my god, did you put these in the dryer?" 

Harry couldn't contain the smile stretching across his face when he heard (Y/N)'s shout from her bedroom. He didn't respond when he heard feet padding across the floor, coming right towards where he was tucked into the cushions of her sofa. 

Still with her mermaid hair and makeup on, she now had on a light purple crewneck and teal blue sweats. She wanted to stay within the spirit of her costume for when children would inevitably knock on the door for candy, but Harry could see she was much more comfortable in her new clothes. 

"Harry," she crooned, looking to him with softened features. Warm, pumpkin lighting filled her home, candlelight flickering over the glitter pasted to her skin. 

"(Y/N)," he said, parroting her affectionate tone. 

"You're so sweet, honey. Thank you." She crawled atop his lap as she spoke, fitting her knees on either side of his hips. 

He moved instinctively, his hands landing on her waist while she looped her own around his neck. Looking up at her, Harry let a smile bloom over his lips, a warmth bubbling under his skin. 

"Do y'feel better?" he asked, running his hands over the curve of her waist, "More comfortable?" 

"Much," she affirmed, pursing her lips to dot a kiss on the bridge of his nose. The sparkle in her eyes rivaled that of the flecks sticking to her skin when she pulled away. "Thank you for coming with me tonight. It was more hectic than I thought, but it means a lot that you came anyway." 

Harry's smile turned shy at her praise. It was still a very hard thing to hear these kinds of sentiments directed to him. The honey of (Y/N)'s voice made it just a touch easier to take, at least. 

"I know 'm not very fun at these things, so thank you for staying with me." Shifting to bar his arms around her middle, Harry pulled her into a hug as he perched his cheek on her shoulder, nose skimming the column of her neck. 

(Y/N) slid her fingers into the curling locks on the back of his head, threading through the waves in comforting trails. "It'll get easier, H. You're already doing so much better than you think." 

A flickering silence settled over the room. "Thank you," he murmured into her neck, "I want to keep getting better. With you."

In that moment, Harry was brought back to a motel room. He was sitting on a much stiffer, mustier sofa with darker thoughts clouding his brain. But he still had (Y/N) in his arms, reassuring him that he could—and would—get better. That she was right there with him, would be right there as long as he needed her. 

He held her tighter at the memory. 

She didn't make any move to pull away, letting Harry get his fill of her before eventually peeling away to gaze up at her. 

"You're still alright with me spending the night?" Despite posing the question, he didn't think he would have an easy time getting out of this spot even if she said no.

"Of course—who else is going to protect me on Halloween night?" 

She spoke with a teasing smile, canting her head with a slight pout puffing her lips. This was one of those moments he had to remind himself that he wasn't occupying his previous life—this was nothing more than a joke, something flirty that (Y/N) said to draw an affectionate reaction out of him. There was nothing real, nothing coming to get her in the middle of the night. 

A short smile touched the corners of his mouth. "I think I can manage that, peach." 

She must have sensed the brief hesitation, causing her to push a soft kiss to the curled corner of his mouth. 

"If you start some popcorn, I’ll pick a movie for us?" she offered. 

He responded with a quiet nod, pulsing his hands on her waist before she climbed off of him. He left her on the couch as he started towards her kitchen, the ghost of her warmth clinging to his front. Keeping an ear out, he rooted through her cabinets in search of a packet of popcorn—a snack she seemingly always had on hand, though he hadn't caught her indulging in the kernels more than once in the last months. 

A ring of the doorbell succeeded by muffled giggles had Harry's muscles bunching for a split second. It's Halloween, he reminded himself. Of course there were going to be people at the door, and (Y/N) wasn't going to hesitate with swinging it open. 

Old habits die hard, even the ones that were already in the process of being buried. 

Hurriedly shoving the packet into the microwave with numbers punched into the pad, Harry moved across the kitchen. Peeking around the threshold, he had a clear view of (Y/N) with a large bowl in one hand as she answered the door. 

The giggling grew louder as she pulled open the door. From the angle she was standing before the threshold, he had a view of her smiling profile as she took in the little critters at her stoop. The children, flanked by parents standing a few feet away, all smiled brightly up at the mermaid before them. 

"Trick or treat!" 

"Wow, look at you guys!" (Y/N) cheered, balancing the candy bowl on her hip, "You look amazing! Such cute costumes!" 

"I'm not cute, I'm a zombie," one of the children contradicted, a lisp in his voice. 

(Y/N)'s smile only grew wider, before she fell into a shocked character. "Woah, you are really scary. I don't have any brains, will candy do?" 

Harry was vaguely aware of the way the children cheered for her, the giggles and smiles filling the doorway as she handed out bundles of candy, but he only had eyes on the mermaid. 

He doubted she even knew just how fearless she was. More than once, he'd heard her describe herself as shy, boring even. Never doing anything new, sticking to her routine. She had no idea what kind of effort Harry would have had to exert to do this simple task she did so easily. 

She had no idea just how special she was in the most mundane ways. He would never run out of things to admire about her. He was sure. 

Waving goodbye to the children and their parents, (Y/N) shut and locked the door behind her. It was then that she caught eyes right on her. 

"They were cute, don't you think?" she chattered, unwitting of the fact that he could barely recount any of the details of any of the trick-or-treaters or their costumes. 

"Yeah," he agreed anyway, a dreamy haze smoked around his voice, "Really cute." 

Before she could offer a response, the microwave beeped. The fragrance of buttery popcorn scented through her home, drawing him away from the entryway. He made quick work of emptying the packet into a pastel pink bowl, rushing to head back to her side out on the sofa. 

Curled up, legs under her bottom with a pumpkin-printed throw blanket across her lap, (Y/N) flicked through her chosen streaming service on her television. It wasn't until he was seated at her side, his peach lifting up the edge of the blanket to allow him to slide in next to her, that he saw what she was looking for.

True to the season, he was looking through a section of Halloween movies. Though, not quite the kind he was sure was playing in many other houses in the neighborhood. 

"I know it's not really scary, but I was thinking Scooby-Doo might be fun to watch tonight," she muttered, looking through the various classic movies available for streaming. One Harry remembered watching as a child caught his eye.

Definitely a better option than the home invasion or slasher films he never really found the appeal of.

He moved to overlap her legs over his thighs, spreading her warmth across the side of his body. "That sounds better than anything scary." 

Moving to pick through the popcorn bowl settled on his lap, Harry saw from the corner of his eye the way (Y/N) turned her attention to him. 

Her eyes were impossibly soft, tracing over the planes of his face. She canted her head as she looked at him, just enough so that the light caught the glitter on her face. He wasn't sure what she saw when she looked at him like that, but whatever it was enough to draw her closer to his side. 

"H—" 

Before she could finish whatever it was that she was going to share, the doorbell rang. She hesitated before removing the blanket from her lap. 

"I'll be right back," she murmured, "You pick. 

A soft kiss was pressed to his cheek, just where his dimple devoted his skin. 

Remote in hand, Harry absently scrolled through the title cards though he was listening instead to the giggling conversation happening at the door. 

The sound of her voice soundtracked the beats of his heart. He heard the way she bubbled to these children, playing along to whatever tricks they pulled for the treats in question. He could still feel the press of her lips against his cheek, the warmth a point of clarity as he sunk into the amber-tinted moment that was his own life. Never would he have thought he would ever find himself in a place like this.

"I'm already starting to run out of candy," (Y/N) exclaimed as she made her way back to the couch, "I'm probably giving out too much, but I feel bad if I don't give out, like, handfuls." 

(Y/N) slid back into her spot, as natural as breathing. Entirely fearless, always. 

"You're so sweet, peach," he breathed, much too heavy an answer for something so simple. 

Though it was entirely worth the smile she gifted him. 

Harry wasn't sure if he was ever going to be a huge fan of Halloween, but he could see why others enjoyed it. Especially if these breezy nights went on like this. 

—————

happy (late) halloween everyone! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if you have any fun ideas or requests of your own, please send them in!!

[mapiforpresident]

Would love to see a leah x alessia x reader one where they are expecting their first baby but reader goes into labour a couple weeks early while Leah and alessia are away at a match either for arsenal or they are at England camp. Just them all rushing around and then trying to get back for the birth while reader is just hoping she has them their while she gives birth.

Just a cute but emotional one of them becoming a family and the drama leading up to the moment

Labour

Leah x reader x Alessia

You go into labour a few weeks early while your wives are at England camp.

Thanks for the request :)

~~~

The pain started mid-morning, a dull ache low in your abdomen that you tried to ignore. You told yourself they were just Braxton Hicks. You were only 35 weeks along, and first babies were rarely early—or so everyone had told you. But by lunchtime, when the pain started to come in waves, you realized this wasn’t false labor. This was the real thing.

Leah and Alessia were away at England camp, just two hours away, but they weren’t answering their phones. You’d already called Leah who hadn't picked up, then called Alessia twice, your breathing growing more labored as the contractions intensified.

“Come on,” you whispered desperately, clutching your stomach as you sat on the edge of the bed, the hospital bag already packed and ready by your feet. “Pick up, Less. Pick up, Leah.”

Still no answer.

Your hand trembled as you scrolled through your contacts and landed on a name you hadn’t expected to call in such a moment: Sarina.

She picked up on the second ring. “Hello?” Sarina’s calm, no-nonsense voice brought a flicker of relief.

“Sarina,” you said, your voice tight with pain and panic, “I—I think I’m in labor. The baby’s coming early, and I can’t reach Leah or Alessia.”

There was a pause, then, “You’re in labour?” she repeated, her tone instantly urgent. “Where are you?”

“I’m at home on the couch, but I need to go to the hospital,” you managed, squeezing your eyes shut against another contraction.

“Okay, listen to me,” Sarina said firmly. “I’ll get them. Do you have someone else who can drive you?”

“I—I’ll figure it out,” you stammered, the pain making it hard to think.

“Good. Get to the hospital safely, and I’ll make sure Leah and Alessia are there as soon as possible,” Sarina promised.

~~~

At camp, the atmosphere on the pitch was intense. The Lionesses were in the middle of a scrimmage, with Leah on the backline and Alessia pressing high in attack. Sarina approached the sideline, waving over one of her assistants before stepping onto the field, her expression unusually serious.

“Stop play!” she called, her voice cutting through the noise.

The players paused, confused, as Sarina walked briskly toward Leah and Alessia.

“Coach?” Leah asked, frowning as Sarina gestured for them to step aside.

“I need to speak with both of you,” Sarina said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

“What’s wrong?” Alessia asked immediately, worry flashing across her face.

“Its y/n,” Sarina said, lowering her voice. “She’s in labour. She couldn’t reach you, so she called me.”

Leah’s eyes widened, her face paling. “What? She’s—she’s in labour? Now?”

“Is she okay?” Alessia asked, panic rising in her voice.

“She’s on her way to the hospital,” Sarina said. “You two need to go. Now.”

Leah didn’t need to be told twice. “We’ll take my car,” she said, already jogging toward the locker room to grab her keys. Alessia was hot on her heels, her boots barely hitting the ground as she ran.

~~~

By the time you arrived at the hospital, the contractions were coming hard and fast, and you could barely think through the pain. The nurses helped you into a gown, hooked you up to monitors, and assured you that everything looked good for the baby, even though it was early.

“Have your wives arrived yet?” one nurse asked as she checked on your vitals.

“No,” you said, tears spilling down your cheeks. “They’re on their way, but they’re two hours away. I just—I need them here.”

Leah drove like she was in a race, Alessia clutching her phone in the passenger seat, her leg bouncing with nervous energy.

“Why didn’t she call us earlier?” Alessia asked, her voice tight with guilt.

“She tried,” Leah said, her hands gripping the wheel. “We didn’t pick up. God, I can’t believe we didn’t pick up.”

“She must be so scared,” Alessia murmured, tears brimming in her eyes.

Leah reached over, squeezing Alessia’s hand briefly before returning her focus to the road. “We’ll get there. We’ll be there for her. We have to be.”

~~~

Back in the delivery room, the pain was overwhelming, and you struggled to focus on the midwife’s calming instructions. The room felt too bright, too loud, too empty without Leah and Alessia.

“I don’t think I can do this without them,” you choked out between sobs.

“Yes, you can,” the midwife said gently, her voice steady. “You’re already doing it. They’ll be here soon, but right now, your baby needs you to be strong.”

Leah and Alessia burst through the hospital doors, breathless and frantic. After a few wrong turns and a lot of urgent questions at the front desk, they finally found your room.

When they stepped inside, you were in the middle of a contraction, your face contorted in pain, tears streaking your cheeks.

“Oh, love,” Alessia said, rushing to your side and taking your hand. “We’re here. We’re here.”

Leah was right behind her, her hand landing gently on your shoulder as she leaned down to kiss your temple. “I’m so sorry we weren’t here sooner,” she said.

“You made it,” you gasped out, gripping their hands like lifelines.

“Of course we did,” Alessia said, tears streaming down her face. “We wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

Alessia whispered words of encouragement, her voice soft and steady, while Leah rubbed your back and counted through your breaths as you practically broke their hands.

When the baby finally arrived—a healthy, squalling little girl—all three of you were overcome with emotion.

“She’s perfect,” Leah whispered, her voice breaking as she stared at your daughter in awe.

Alessia leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You were incredible,” she said, her tears falling freely.

“You both made it,” you said, your own tears mingling with laughter as you cradled your daughter against your chest.

“We’re never leaving you again,” Leah said firmly, wrapping her arms around you both.

And in that moment, as the three of you stared down at the tiny miracle you’d created, the chaos and panic of the day melted away, leaving only love and the overwhelming joy of becoming a family.

[band--psycho]

Vander x Reader - In Another Life (Part 1)

SPOILERS FROM ACT 3 - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Vander Masterlist / Arcane Masterlist / Join My Taglist

Thank you to everyone who's sent in a request so far! I'm absolutely loving the ideas you guys are sharing and will get to work on them soon! 💛

Requests are still open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over (thank you to everyone who's requested a story so far, I'm working my way through them!)

Thank you all for the continued support!💛

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!

The way I sobbed during this first episode when I saw Vander again!

I just had to write this afterwards - I hope you all enjoy this!

You woke with a start, your heart beating at a rapid pace as a light bead of sweat formed on your forehead. 

You stayed like that for a minute, just sitting upright in the bed as you began to catch your breath; your eyes focusing on the environment around you. 

You weren’t in your bedroom. 

In fact, you didn’t really know where you were…it was weird, although this place seemed so different to you, it felt oddly familiar at the same time.

The last thing you could remember was being in the room with the hexcore in it. 

Ekko…Heimerdinger…Jayce…where were they?

Thoughts were running around in your mind faster than you could keep up with them; you’d barely finished one thought before another one took over, as you tried to work out what the hell happened and where the hell you were. 

‘Am I dead?’ you thought to yourself, running your hands over your face. 

But all your thoughts were halted when you heard the door to your side creek open; followed by a voice that confirmed you must’ve been dead, or just completely losing your mind.

Vanders voice….

“Good morning, sleepyhead, or should I say afternoon,” he chuckled; a sound that made your heart ache, and yet at the same time, made you feel all warm and fuzzy. 

It was a sound that you never thought you’d hear again… 

A sound that had made you feel safe; regardless of what was going on, even now when you had no idea what was going on. 

You heard his footsteps getting closer to you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. 

Not even for a second, just in case this was just your mind playing a foul trick on you. 

It wasn’t long before the sounds of his footsteps stopped and the bed that you were sitting on dipped as Vander sat in front of you.  

He lifted his hand to your face, tilting your chin up with his thumb, “You okay, sweetheart?”

His touch; it felt so real, so real that it made you sure it wasn’t your mind deceiving you. 

It couldn’t have been. 

Vander quite often occupied your dreams, and in every single one of them, his touch had never felt as real as it did in this very moment. 

“Am I dead?” The words fell from your lips before you could stop them, coming out in a small whisper.

Your eyes met Vanders gray ones, that’s when you noticed the worry that was slowly building inside them as he stared at you. 

“No, darl,” he cooed, wrapping his other hand around your waist, lifting you out of the bed momentarily before placing you in his lap, “you're safe.”

Safe.

You hadn’t been safe in a long time. 

And yet, here you were feeling safer then you had in years, with a man who should’ve been dead.

Your man. 

The love of your life. 

He was here. 

He was alive. 

You could hear his heart beating as you snuggled into his chest, savoring the all too familiar scent of Vander….smoke, fire and alcohol, mixing together with a small amount of cologne he loved to wear. 

“You’re alive…” you breathed, tentatively reaching out to touch his cheek. 

He seemed different. 

But in a good way.

The dark circles that were once under his eyes were pretty much all but gone; and his eyes seemed happier than when you knew him, as though he was free from all the stress that once plagued him. 

“Course I am, darl,” he assured you with a small smile; before pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head, hoping that his small action would be able to ease your mind. 

It didn’t. Not really at least. 

You were so confused. 

You didn't understand what was happening.

You tried to blink back the tears that were forming in your eyes, tried to keep yourself together so you could figure out what was happening. 

So you could think logically. 

But there was nothing logical about any of this…the arcane….magic…it wasn’t something that was logical. 

But now, being wrapped up in Vanders arms again, made you want to throw logic to the wind and just stay like this with him for as long as you possible could, not knowing how long this could last.

You didn’t know what was happening, or how, or why; all you knew was that Vander was here. 

That was all that mattered.

Taglist:

@xacatalepsyx @barbersjoy @conretewings @the-lone-librarian @cass-brightwood @fortune-fool02 @arielpanda1 @mothratic @simping-ella @stickyrice5096 @levis-butterfingers @lesbianinyourarea @eternallyvenus @trixiex2 @nagislemontea @dazecrea @littlejoyfullthing

[revelboo]

Not a request but just to say thank you for all the work youve done for us!!! Your characterization’s are just top tier and I love how you build up the interactions and focus on the smaller things, really gives us a feel of everythingg

Please do take breaks though!! The rate which you write is crazy honestly😭😭😭

I can technically do these short form fics very quickly if I want to, but my day job is keeping me a bit busy right now.

Better Open The Door Pt 8

IDW Thundercracker x Reader

• Using a spare blanket to rub your hair dry, your mind keeps dredging up the memory of his lips pressing softly against your spine. He’d behaved himself after, but he’d spent more time watching your furtive attempts to wash without flashing him than even trying to wash himself. It’s just his weird fascinations with humans and you know it, but still. The feel of his lips on you had been warm, felt real even if it can’t possibly be. Groaning, you drape the blanket over your head and just hide. From him and from your own weird thoughts. From the fact that even though you should resent him, it’s hard to.

• Watching you from his desk as he fiddles with his data pad, he leans to try and tug the blanket off of you. “What are you doing?” You latch onto it, resisting and while he knows he could easily uncover you, he lets you have whatever this is. Privacy? You’re back in your coverings, so maybe you’re just tired? “I can dim the lights if you need to rest.” And there you are, peeking out at him.

• You want to ask. About his possessive words before and that touch, because you’re not sure he’s playing the same game anymore and you hate not understanding the rules. He’d taken you just to play pretend, playing house with you to satisfy some weird desire from watching too many movies. Right? Whatever that was in the wash racks hadn’t felt like playing, though. “What am I to you?”

• Don’t you already know? Reaching out to tip your chin up and smiling when you catch his servo, but don’t push him away, he studies your expression. “We’re friends, right?” He asks even though that’s not quite right at all. Wants to protect the peace you give him, your smiles and laughs that had come so easily before he’d taken you, but now they’re brittle. Unhappy with him for keeping you here. For not giving you a choice.

• “Yeah, friends,” you mutter, blowing out a breath. And as annoyed as you are with him, he’s just so genuinely invested in you, in worrying over you and trying to make you happy, that it’s hard to stay furious with him for kidnapping you. No matter what he insists, he will get bored with you. You’re not that interesting and he has to realize that. This can’t last, but it’s not like you can hate him. He’s still Thundercracker. Still painfully optimistic and hopeful, just wanting to be with you. Maybe lonely, too.

• “Best friends,” he insists, choosing to ignore it when you roll your eyes at him. “I downloaded some movies on my data pad.” Reaching for you, his servos stop shy of touching you. Giving you a choice. He misses your real smiles, wants to go back to when you trusted him. Because this uneasy tension hurts. It’s almost more lonely than he’d been before he found you. Your head tips to study his expression and he fully expects you to refuse, so when you wrap yourself in your blanket and place yourself in his servos, it means everything. He can’t tell you the truth, yet. Can’t explain why he took you, what’s coming. Because when he admits that his war is likely going to take everything from you, you really will hate him.

Previous

[7ndipity]

Finding Out Their Crush Is Dating Someone

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: How the members would react to finding out that their crush is in a relationship/seeing them with their partner

Warnings: angst, swearing,

A/N: thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I hope you like it!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Jin: He would try his best to carry on with your friendship as if nothing was amiss, but he wouldn’t be able to hide his distaste for your partner, avoiding being around them as much as possible, which unfortunately means avoiding you at times as well. The growing tension between you would likely result in you either drifting apart for a while, or him eventually confessing after you call him out on it, tho what the outcome of that would be is unclear.

Yoongi: He wouldn’t dare show it, not even to friends who might know about his feelings towards you, but he’s devastated. This is the exact thing he was afraid would happen, bc like you’re amazing, of course you would find somebody. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to watch it happen. He would try to continue your friendship as normal, but there’s an invisible wall that’s been built between the two of you now that you don’t understand.

Hobi: You know the “This is fine, I’m okay with the events unfolding around me.” meme? That’s Hobi rn. Honestly tho, he would try his hardest to act as though it doesn’t bother him, bc at least you’re happy, but he lowkey feels like his heart’s getting wrung out every time he sees you with your partner. He might consider pulling away for a bit, but he loves you too much to actually do so, so he just tries to ride it out and hope his feelings will calm over time…

Namjoon: oooh boy, you’re now the new fan-favorite break-up track on his next album. No but fr, he would be soo angsty and sulky about the situation, avoiding you for days/weeks after finding out. He knows it’s not fair to just shut you out without any real explanation, but he’s afraid of how sharing his feelings would fuck up your friendship even more. It would end up spiraling into a fight when you confront him about his weird behavior and he finally spills the truth.(I want to believe that y’all would work it out in the end but🤷) 

Jimin: I feel like in his mind, he wants to handle it maturely and pretend nothing’s wrong, but in reality, he completely ices you both out. It’s his knee-jerk response whenever he’s hurt, and so he just leaves it to you to try and figure out why he’s suddenly so upset with you. He might even go back to normal just as suddenly bc he misses you, and just pretends like he wasn’t avoiding you, leaving you even more lost about what the fuck is going on.

Taehyung: Oooh this boy, he would be soo fucking dramatic, sulking and acting as if you’ve dumped him, even tho you never actually went out or talked about his feelings in the first place. He’d blame your partner for “stealing you away”, even tho they likely don’t have a clue about his feelings for you either. If you confront him and ask him what’s up, he’ll likely spill the whole thing immediately, but he won’t dare bring it up himself out of fear of rejection and ruining your friendship.

Jungkook: You’re seeing someone?! Behind his back?! Even though he never actually told you that he had feelings for you, so you have no clue what the fuck is going on?! Fr tho, he would be soo angsty, moping and avoiding you for days, ignoring your calls and texts. This would only last for a few days tho before his feelings start to eat him alive and he’s showing up at your place and pouring his heart out to you. He doesn’t care if it’s too late or you reject him, he just needs you to know.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @universal-travel-er @k4ngelz

[niceonejames7]

the sirius watermelon fic was SO CUTE I NEED A PART TWO OF THEM GETTING TOGETHER

watermelon pyjamas pt.2

sirius finally tells you how he feels. (the classic angry confession trope) part 1

words: 1.7k

genre: literally idiots™ to lovers, roommate!sirius, hurt/comfort(?), confession, lil angst, ends with fluff.

a/n: guys this is like my first ask. eeeek! thanks for requesting and reading<3

.....

“I’m an idiot”

“You're gonna have to elaborate."

“James, please."

Sirius wasn't sure if he would classify this as a bad day. Realising he's in love with you wasn't the worst thing that could happen to him, but hearing James gloat about how right he had been was.

He had managed to avoid you that evening, even the next day, internally panicking over what to do. But he was home in the evening, ignoring that stupid warm feeling in his chest when he saw your shoes in front of the door.

He entered the room, and sighed.

I'm fucked.

“Did you buy fruit themed pyjamas?" Sirius asked, his eyes moving over the cherry printed clothing. He was annoyed, not at you, mostly at himself. He couldn't find a single explanation why this affected him so much, but it did.

“I have watermelon, cherry, kiwi and peach.” You counted on your fingers.

“Wear the peach one tomorrow." Sirius grimaced at his too quick of a response, thankfully his face wasn't visible. He wasn't very proud of himself right now.

"I meant like- as a suggestion, that sounds cute, you know." He tries to explain himself, cringing on his own words.

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, amused by his eagerness, “Do you want these? You seem to like them a lot." You asked cheekily.

Yeah, sure. That's exactly why I want you to wear these, Sirius though internally. His thoughts had involved you in his bed with the pants on, maybe off, but he kept that shamefully to himself.

The next couple of days felt torturous. Sirius felt like he had to physically restrain himself from reaching for you. Anytime you touch his shoulder, lean against him, huddle together on the couch, he overthought everything.

Every touch left him breathless, every look made it hard to breath. I need help.

.

You were distraught. For some reason, for the last few days, Sirius was acting weird. He had started pulling away from you, as if watching you from a distance. No ruffling your hair, no forehead kisses, no comfortable touches. It's not as if he owed you any affection, but he had stopped.

He knew.

He knew you had feelings for him. Even if he doesn't, which you desperately hope is the truth, he has a problem. You didn't know what to do. Everytime you thought to ask him something, he'd make up an excuse and leave. He definitely didn't want to talk to you.

Lily had suggested exactly as you predicted, the usual, you should talk to him, maybe he was just busy. And other times, she had been right, but not this time. All of this had led you to the inevitable decision, something you should have done long ago. Maybe if you had, this wouldn't have happened.

……

"I'm gonna move out, Lils.” You say into the phone,"What? Why?” Lily exclaimed, rather dramatically.

You sigh,"I can't live like this. He doesn't owe me anything. I shouldn't be expecting… things from him.”

There's a slight pause before you continue,"And I can't move on if I live with him. It's too painful, and too hard."

“Here's the real reason."

Lily felt like bashing her head against a wall. How can two people be so stupid at the same time? You two were perfect for each other, both too oblivious to see the obvious.

“Listen, I really think you should just tell him, even if you move out. He wouldn't stop being your friend, honey."

You hum as she says, but part of you knows you can't say it. You don't have the guts. You hear the familiar click of the door, Sirius is home.

“Lils, I've gotta go. I'll talk to you later." You hang up the phone, not listening to whatever she said at the end, too nervous to care.

Your hands are sweaty, and your hands are fidgeting constantly. Sirius comes in and can immediately sense your anxious energy,

“What happened, lovely?" He asks, his voice cooing as he moves over to you.

He's used to you busying yourself around the house, sometimes bobbing your head to music as you wash the dishes, or some other silly thing, he could go on.

“Sirius, we need to talk." You say quickly, your words too rushed, dreading this conversation.

Sirius' heart feels like it's going to lurch out.

Oh no.

He thinks that you know, somehow. That he had… he'd stopped saying it at a point. The impossibility of it all was a painful reminder. Now you're going to confront him. He's fucked.

“Okay…” He says, his voice too quiet now.

You rub your hands to pep yourself up, encouraging yourself to not lose track,

“I'm gonna move out."

The silence that takes over is one more overwhelming than any noise. Sirius is sure now, you definitely know. A dangerous dread spreads over his body, like a disease covering itself around him.

“It's not because of you, it's because of me." Sirius has the urge to scoff at the cliched statement, but his body feels too stiff, his eyes stuck on you.

But Sirius needed closure. So, whatever your feelings were, Sirius needed to hear why you're leaving.

“Why?" His voice is void of emotion. It breaks your heart.

A pitiful chuckle escaped you, “Sirius, you've made it clear you don't want me here."

Don't confront him. This wasn't the plan.

It wasn't. It wasn't even the reason you were moving out. But he was still your friend, he had still hurt your feelings. You were still mad at him, even though you had no right to be.

“What the hell do you mean?" Sirius asks, incredulous. How could he ever not want you here?

“We haven't talked properly in days. You answer me in singular words-"

Sirius cuts you off, feeling oddly defensive, even if what you were saying wasn't untrue,

“I've been busy-"

“Oh you've been busy before, Sirius. You never did this," You wave him off, but meeting his eyes, you say, “It's alright, I got the message, if you don't want me here-" Your voice rises despite your efforts as the conversation gets more heated,

"So what then? You're just gonna move out? Am I that terrible?” Sirius asks, sarcastically. Typical, you think. You pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration,

"Sirius, I told you, this isn't about you,”

Right now, he isn't keen on listening to your reasoning. In his mind, it's all his fault. It's his fault that you have to leave. He's scrambling for explanations,

"Look, I'm sorry that I'm in love with you, alright? I couldn't help myself. Hell,” He laughs, pity and amusement lacing his words, “I didn't even know until a few weeks ago.”

Sirius felt like his world was falling apart. His heart has dared to love someone, and it backfired. He doesn't regret that he loves you, he couldn't. He had no control over that, ever. He was always going to be in love with you.

He only regrets that you found out, somehow. But he supposed that was also inevitable, you weren't daft.

“The point is,” His pleading eyes look at you, “It’s my problem to deal with, not yours.” His eyes are watching your face, you don't know what he might find, “Please, don't leave.”

A few moments pass, and it's as if the world is coming back to you. And one sentence rings in your head, distinct from any other sentence he's said.

I'm sorry that I'm in love with you.

“You what??” You ask, your voice full of incredulity. It feels like someone had hit you with a hammer, or pushed you off a cliff.

“I didn't want to be the guy who's your friend and then tells you he's in love with you, you know? I'm sorry that I love you, but you don't have to leave. If it matters, I will. You should stay here.” Sirius stammers out, his voice laced with pain and nervousness.

Your hands are wrapped under his, his hands clutching yours like they could stop you. They probably did stop you.

"You're in love with me?” You ask, your heart in your mouth, as if one word would be enough to tip you over.

“Please don't make me say it again." Sirius pleads, his eyes slightly watery.

Your eyes flick back and forth to both of his, searching for any kind of hesitance on his face, but it's plain. He's said those words like they were casual, as if they didn't just break your brain. There's nothing to say, or there are no words coming to your brain which are enough to convey your emotions.

A smile spreads across your lips and you bite your lips to conceal it undoing your hands from his to cradle his face,

“You’re in love with me.”

Sirius' pleading frown transforms to a confused one, and he nods, even if you hadn't asked it as a question this time.

You laugh, a watery laugh before you meet your lips to his, smiling too hard to kiss him properly.

Sirius feels like his body is on autopilot, his hands immediately cradling the back of your neck, his other one holding your wrist, his lips immediately responding to yours, as if it was all too natural.

In all his ‘foreseen’ outcomes, this hadn't been a possibility.

He smiles too, confusion still evident at the back of his mind, but he could only focus on the feeling of your lips on his, your hands holding his face.

His head tilts as he tries to get a better angle, desperate to know your tells and signs, his hand wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.

You smile again, breaking the kiss but his lips chase you which makes you laugh more, and he hides his face in your shoulder, laughing along with you.

“You're in love with me," You say it quietly, as if you're confirming it to yourself, but he's too close by not to listen.

“And here I was, moving out because I wanted to get over you."

His head whips up, his face dumbstruck,

“What?"

“Mhmm." You bite your lips, and Sirius has half a mind to kiss you again.

“You're also in…." He trails off, his expression confused but you know exactly what he's asking,

“Sirius, I just kissed you."

“Yeah, but what if you just took pity-" You shut him up again, and he melts, exactly as you intended, moulding his body to yours, trying to get as close as he can. If this was your way to shut him up, he could get used to it.

"Wait, so you're not moving out right? Because-" And his words are cut off again, the same way from before.

He smiles against your lips, again, ecstatic. Giddy, even. Sirius could get used to this. Sirius could get used to kissing you as he arrives home.

All this because of fucking watermelon pyjamas.

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

We have officially entered another bangers only era for Japanese queer media; I am loving all of these currently airing shows. These are all streaming on Gaga or provided via fansub (feel free to ask if you don’t know where to find them).

Our Youth

This show is killing me with the quiet yearning and the push and pull and Hirukawa's whole entire deal. The way Hirukawa and Minase keep drawing closer together before stepping back. The way they have created their own little bubble in Minase's home, and how they can't be that way together in other spaces. The way Hirukawa is so desperate to be close to Minase and Minase clearly wants it too, but doesn't really understand himself yet and so keeps rejecting it. I was so sad when Hirukawa admitted he provoked his dad on purpose so that Minase would let him back in; I hope Minase will ease off on the barriers from here on out. I know something bad is coming and I just want them to have a little bit of happiness before we get there.

Love is Like a Poison

The battle couple was tested this week as we finally found out Haruto's connection to this case with an assist from the lady restaurant owner, his past as a con artist was revealed to Shiba's employer, and Shiba's boss demanded that he cut ties. I was so very proud of Shiba when he did not waver about what is most important to him, and worried when Haruto took off and left his ring behind. I'm keeping the faith, though; I don't think Haruto is leaving Shiba.

Love in the Air Koi

Okay, first of all, let me get a scream out about that sex scene, because good god did they deliver. Nagumo Shoma is a gift to us all (I will be seeing that back roll in my dreams), and I thought their chemistry now that Rei has figured himself out was fantastic. The whole sequence from the time they left the race track was beautifully shot and performed, and the intimacy felt very real. Aside from the sex, one of the things I like most about this narrative is the belief that a relationship can be the reason you get your life together rather than a distraction from your goals. Rei has all the skills, but he's been lacking focus and drive, and that's exactly what Arashi is giving him. I really liked the way this episode weaved their different subplots together to show them both working toward something, and how their success brought them together in the end. They are good for each other! I also really loved all the Rei and Kai moments in this episode, and that Kai continues to be a perceptive and supportive friend. Kai's own story is coming soon, and we got our first glimpses of it at the end of today's episode. I'm impressed with how this adaptation has streamlined the story to cover every important beat in half the time without ever short changing the relationships.

The Fragrance You Inherit

This week Sakura was reunited with her long lost love via their scheming children, and I loved every minute. My favorite thing about this drama is the relationship writing. Sakura and Toki have such a lovely bond, and I like that he realized after surprising his mom with Mone that it may have been insensitive, and that he cared enough to check in with her about it. Sakura is also a great mom, supportive of his relationship and sensitive to his feelings even as she is grappling with her own shock at this reunion. I also really love that Sakura has such a good friend in Ryosuke (who continues to flag as queer to me). I'm excited to get to know Mone better as an adult and see where the story takes us. You can find the show here, with big thanks as always to @isaksbestpillow for providing English subs.

[diamonddaze01]

Haiiii it's me again! Yes me the one who requested for jeonghan drabble. I wanna tell you that you wrote it so beautifully. The last part hit right into my heart. You conveyed every emotion so perfectly. I loved it!

I wanna request for another jeonghan drabble no. 70. Make them be rivals yk enemies to lovers. I love that trope. Oh and if you make jeonghan jealous in that fic it'll be sooo good!

Lastly love you <3333

sore memories

pairing: jeonghan x reader | wc: 1.3k prompt: "I didn't realize I needed your permission." au: college au | warnings: mentions of sex a/n: hello you are so so sweet! thank you for coming off anon to introduce yourself! I hope you love this as much as mafia!hannie

The party was alive with music, laughter, and too many faces you didn’t care to remember. Somewhere in the haze of flashing lights and sticky floors, you were trying to lose yourself in the evening. The guy in front of you—tall, generic, and charming enough—was speaking, but you weren’t listening. Not really.

Not when you could feel Jeonghan’s gaze burning a hole in the side of your head.

He leaned casually against the far wall, a picture of ease, holding a drink he probably wasn’t even sipping. His dark hair fell just enough into his eyes to look unintentional, and his lips curled in that signature smirk that could both captivate and infuriate. You hated how often it did the latter.

And, like clockwork, it started again—the simmering irritation in your chest, the sense that wherever Jeonghan was, peace was not. It always came back to this—the constant back and forth, the verbal sparring that sparked every time you crossed paths. You’d known Jeonghan for years, and if you could go back and change one thing, it would be meeting him.

It had started your first year of college, at a party much like this one. Jeonghan had been a stranger then, someone with an effortless charm that made people gravitate toward him. He’d introduced himself with that smirk of his, cocky and self-assured in a way that should’ve been a warning. Instead, you’d found yourself drawn to him, his easy banter and sparkling eyes too intriguing to resist.

By the end of the night, you’d ended up in his bed, tangled in his sheets and his laughter. For a fleeting moment, it had felt like something real.

Until you woke up the next morning to find the bed empty. No Jeonghan. Just a hastily scribbled note on his pillow.

“Thanks for the fun. See you around.”

The humiliation had crawled through your chest like a slow burn, leaving behind a simmering anger that hadn’t dulled with time. You’d told yourself it didn’t matter, that he didn’t matter, but the sting of his absence—and that damned note—had never quite faded.

It wasn’t just the note, though. It was the way Jeonghan acted after, like nothing had happened. Like you were just another face in the crowd. The way he leaned into every conversation with a smirk, always teasing, always too close. Like he enjoyed watching you bristle.

And now, years later, nothing had changed. Except maybe everything had, because the resentment wasn’t enough to drown out the spark that flared every time you locked eyes with him.

You looked away, focusing on the man in front of you. He was tall, his voice smooth, but the words might as well have been water hitting glass. You nodded along out of politeness, sipping your drink and willing yourself to stay in the moment.

But Jeonghan was watching. You could feel it—the subtle weight of his gaze, like an itch you couldn’t scratch.

And, inevitably, he approached. You didn’t notice him at first, too caught up in pretending to care about whatever the guy was saying. But then came the unmistakable sensation of being under a spotlight, the air around you shifting with his presence.

“Having fun?” His voice was warm honey with a razor’s edge.

Your grip tightened slightly on your cup as you turned to him, your smile thin. “I was.”

Jeonghan chuckled, a low sound that sent an unwanted flicker of heat through you. His eyes roved over you briefly, his gaze lingering like he was assessing your armor. He tilted his head toward the guy who had already started to drift away. “That guy,” he said with mock interest. “He your type?”

You let out a sharp exhale, already bracing for the inevitable headache. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” he replied, his smirk widening just enough to betray the lie. His eyes sparkled with something teasing, as though you were his favorite game to play. “I just didn’t peg you as someone who’d settle for boring.”

Your jaw clenched, your nails biting into the plastic of your cup. “And you would know, wouldn’t you?”

For a brief moment, something flickered across his face—too fast to name but heavy enough to make you pause. Then it was gone, replaced by his usual nonchalance. “Touché,” he murmured.

He stepped closer, and you fought the instinct to take a step back. He had a way of closing the space between you with casual arrogance, like the mere act of breathing the same air was his right.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Jeonghan pressed, his voice soft but insistent, his dark eyes locking onto yours.

The irritation bubbled over. “I didn’t realize I needed your permission,” you shot back, your tone sharp enough to cut.

His smirk faltered, just slightly, and you caught the faintest hint of something raw in his expression. His fingers curled around the rim of his cup, tightening before he exhaled slowly. “You don’t,” he said, his voice quieter now, steadier. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to pretend I don’t care.”

For a moment, the noise of the party faded, the world narrowing to just the two of you. You opened your mouth to retort, but the look in his eyes stopped you short. There was something unnervingly honest there, a vulnerability that threw you off balance.

“You don’t get to do this,” you said finally, your voice quieter but no less pointed. “You don’t get to act like you care now.”

Jeonghan ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated motion that sent a few strands falling messily across his forehead. “I know I screwed up,” he admitted, his shoulders dropping as if the weight of his words was too much. “That night—I left because I didn’t know what else to do. I woke up, and it scared the hell out of me how much I wanted to stay. So, I ran. And I’ve regretted it every day since.”

The confession hit like a punch to the gut, your breath catching in your throat. Your fingers tightened around your cup, and you looked away, your vision blurring slightly as the memory of that morning resurfaced.

“You left a note,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jeonghan’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, his jaw tightening. “I know,” he said, his tone softer now, tinged with guilt. “It was a coward’s move. But believe me when I say, it wasn’t because you didn’t matter.”

Your eyes flicked back to him, searching for any sign of insincerity. But his body betrayed no games, no walls. His hands fidgeted with his cup, his posture slightly tense, and for the first time, he didn’t seem so untouchable.

“Why now?” you asked, your voice cracking slightly despite your best efforts to stay composed. “Why are you telling me this now?”

His lips parted, his tongue darting out briefly to wet them before he answered. “Because I’m tired,” he said simply, his shoulders squaring again as if he’d made some unspoken decision. “Tired of pretending I don’t care, tired of seeing you with guys who’ll never know you the way I do.”

His gaze burned into yours, unyielding, and you hated how much you wanted to believe him.

“Say the word,” Jeonghan murmured, his voice softer now, almost pleading. He stepped closer, his hand brushing yours lightly, sending a jolt through your skin. “And I’ll walk away. But don’t tell me you don’t feel it too.”

You swallowed hard, the words lodged in your throat as your chest tightened. Your gaze dropped to the floor, your heart warring with your pride.

“You don’t get to break my heart twice,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

The faint tremor in your words made his expression crumble, his hand reaching out hesitantly before falling back to his side. “I won’t,” he said, the conviction in his tone catching you off guard. “Not this time.”

And for the first time in years, the walls you’d built around yourself began to crack.

send me an ask for my drabble game!

[violenteconomics]

so it’s pretty popular in this fandom for the overblotters to have a support group going on, and that’s all well and good and we’ve got a lot of amazing stuff out of it (shameless segue into compelling you to read the “girls in wonderland” series by the lovely jxnebug on ao3, please, it’s awesome), but can you just. like. imagine for a second that everybody else has a support group too, because goodness gracious, do the people who have to witness the overblots need so much therapy.

like. i imagine that it starts off with the first-years and their weekly ramshackle hangouts, and then they all start venting to each other about all the trauma they’ve gone through in the past year, which, thanks to yuu, becomes an unofficial, very unqualified support group.

ace: hey. i’m ace trappola. during my first week at night raven college i had to wear a collar around my neck at all times and didn’t even get to sleep in my dorm, which is probably for the best, because i couldn’t really sleep with that stupid collar anyway. i slaved away making a chestnut tart to apologize to my housewarden with, only to have my apology literally thrown into the trash. and when my best friend tried to stick up for me, they got called stupid and undereducated. and my other upperclassmen just enabled him. i almost got killed twice in that week, and many more times afterwards.

deuce: hello, i’m deuce spade. and i promised myself that i would become the best person i could be for my mom, only to fall short of my own expectations every single time, except for when i literally sign my soul away. i had such high hopes for my housewarden and upperclassmen to guide me to a better future, only to come to the realization that they’re even more flawed than i am. so, basically, there is nobody who can help me now, and i’m doomed to the path i made with my own hands.

jack: this is so unnecessary. jack howl. basically what deuce said, but combine that with the fact that, when you first met, your upperclassmen didn’t have any problems with getting rid of you if it meant their path to victory was assured. your dormmates will never admit that they’re wrong and sooner rip your ear out than say they like you to your face. but you care a lot about them, and deep down, maybe they care a lot about you, too. but the only thing they can do that would prove that in your eyes is improve themselves. become better. be the people you thought they were when you got here. and that is the one thing they will never do.

epel: howdy. my name is epel felmier. my housewarden is all about personal improvement. he’s right to think that i need to rework my thinking about gender and strength, because they are not equal in any way. other than that, though, he has no investment in me as a person. i’m not allowed to eat whatever i want. if he tells me to perform, that’s what i do. if i slip up even a little, he scolds me for being lazy. my posture must be perfect, my diction clear, and my hair flawless. he puts the same pressure on himself to be perfect, so it’s not like he’s a hypocrite. but that’s the thing, isn’t it? he likes me for the things i do — and he hates the person i am.

ortho: hello, world. my name is ortho shroud. not the real one, though. i’m just a poor simulacrum of him that my big brother forged from the flames of his grief and the metal of his self-loathing. but even though idia put his soul into constructing me, i can never truly be the person he wants me to be. my only purpose, and i can’t even do it correctly. for almost my entire life up to this point, idia loved his dead brother more than he loved me, and i just had to be okay with that, because the nature of the STYX organization mean that i didn’t have anybody else. and the one time i tried to change that, i corrupted my brother and almost ended the world.

sebek: greetings. i am sebek zigvolt. i nearly perished recently. the prince that i admired so dearly tried to put everybody to sleep, and in trying to stop him, i very nearly lost a dear friend of mine to the secrets hidden inside his father’s brain. the whole time, i felt distinctly out of place. it was like i was watching one of those soap operas master lilia loves so much. only ever looking. never touching. right before me was a broken family that i only wanted to see come back together, but i couldn’t fix it. for it was not my family to fix. i was helpless. useless. but that is nothing new.

yuu: …hi. i’m yuu. i was ripped out of my home and isekai’d into this world that’s filled with mentally unstable magic people who tried to kill me more than a couple times. i am currently living paycheck-to-paycheck while going to school full-time thanks to a crow who doesn’t know how to adult. and clearly, we all have a lot of work to do.

this goes on for a couple of weeks with just them, but then sebek decides to invite silver, because he’s prolly not doing so hot post-book 7 (and also, silver is basically the freshmen’s official big brother at this point, let’s be real) and then silver invites kalim a few weeks later, who invites ruggie, and then it just sort of snowballs out of control from there.

[amphitriteswife]

Being the older itoshi sister

Tagging @zendersenders

Rin:

💙 Tsundere brother. He’s your littlest brother so bear with him okay, he’s the youngest. He doesn’t act like it though. He likes to think he’s way more mature for his age, which isn’t necessarily true as he has lots of mood swings and outbursts. Will never admit it, but he also sometimes has temper tantrums. But he finds them embarrassed and will deny ever having them.

💙 he said would trust you more than Sae, he’ll tell you his secrets and feelings. But only if you promise to not snitch it to Sae. He’ll sometimes cry, but he doesn’t find it as embarrassing since he’s with you.

💙 If you follow school abroad he’ll miss you dearly, he’s not one to text first or everyday but he will make time for it somewhere in his busy schedule. He’ll respond to your stories or just tell you things about his day

💙He’s more of a caller than texter. Or he’ll send voice messages to you. Half of the time you can hear him out of breath since he’ll probably sent the messages after soccer practice. He would probably walk home with his phone still open, hoping you’ll see it sooner or later since he doesn’t want to talk with you at home. Otherwise his parents are all nosy and up his business.

💙 ‘sister! *pant pant*’ ‘hey Rin, what’s up?’ ‘*pant* can you sent me money? I want to buy some snacks after practice.’ ‘Where are you now?’ ‘Its break time. Can you sent me money?’ ‘Sure! I’ll sent you 20 bucks.’ ‘Thank you!’

💙 He hopes you visit him a lot. Preferably more than Sae. But he also knows that the both of them are your brothers and doesn’t push in that regard, he will get jealous if you spent more time with Sae than him. He doesn’t want to be left out because you and Sae are both adults.

💙 you two probably share a playlist, and most of it are english songs. It will help him with his English. He probably listens to the neighborhood and chase Atlantic. He would 100% stress about concert tickets if they were coming to japan. Ofcourse hell but you one too.

💙 He will never admit it but it makes him happy if you go to his matches or practices. He sometimes searches the seats to see if he can spot you sitting in one of them, he hopes you’ll see his important matches bo matter what. Whether it’s in real life or on tv.

💙He hopes that you’ll see his matches before Sae’s. He knows that Sae is your brother too and that you love him but Rin wants to be your favorite and trustable brother. He feels as if he’s better than Sae if you love him more than him.

💙 He sometimes has his emo phases where he shuts down and doesn’t speak a lot, it’s mainly because of how he feels or it has to do with Sae. He’s not one to tell his feelings to you, most of the time he does but not always. Sometimes he cried, but at least now he doesn’t have to cry on his own, he can cry with you by his side. And that gives him some type of comfort.

💙 be ready to have a clingy and rather possessive Rin if he finds out you have a partner. Rin wants to know everything. Why them? Are they good for you? Will they treat you well? He wants to meet them. He’ll wait. And if he doesn’t approve he better not see them again. No scummy partner will ever enter your life.

💙 Sometimes Rin becomes emotional, very emotional. Whether it’s sadness or anger. He expresses them very intensely, that’s why he sometimes might say hurtful things or words. But at the end of the day he never means them. Doesn’t take away that they hurt though. He does feel a lot of guilt and might end up crying and apologizing to you for it.

💙 He’ll be your best friend. So please consider him yours. You’re his sister, the only sibling still talking to him. He doesn’t befriend others often nor does he talk to his parents. To him you’re currently the most important person in his life. He loves you a lot even if he doesn’t show it. No questions asked.

Sae:

❤️ Sae is around your age, and way more mature than Rin. He doesn’t really bother you because of that and because most of the time he’s in Spain. He also doesn’t talk much, like as if he’s always sleepy. No he does not lack sleep it’s just how he looks so no worries sister.

❤️ Sae isn’t the one who contacts you first nor tried to keep to conversation. He’s busy with a lot of things. It’s no question that he cares for you, there just is only so much time in one day. He has matches, interviews, contracts, practice and a lot more. He hopes you understand how busy he is and that it’s not intentional.

❤️ Unlike Rin, Sae isn’t emotional but rather rational. He keeps his cool and thinks straight and logical. He does have a sharp tongue, but swallows his words when it comes to you. You’re his elder sister and he respects you a lot, such words aren’t meant for you.

❤️ Sae would rather see you in person than on texts. He watched your stories and sees you’re online but will not sent a message until you sent one first. He’ll often leave you on read. It’s not meant to be offending, but rather that he’s busy or just doesn’t wish to engage in the conversation further. He’s tired okay? He hopes you understand.

❤️ it had been stated that Sae thinks that Rin is in his ‘rebellious’ phase. That caused him to be rather confused if Rin snaps at him, which causes Sae to come to you. He often talks to you about Rin as Rin hinself doesn’t even talk to Sae when he’s back in Japan.

❤️ As the older sister, you will have to deal with Sae not understanding what is up with Rin, and Rin hating Sae’s guts. This puts you in a rough spot. Both of them knows you love them very much. But in contrast to Rin, Sae doesn’t seem to mind you spending more time with Rin. After all, Rin is the youngest and needs to most attention because he’s needy. At least that’s what Sae thinks.

❤️ He does make an effort to see you. It might not always feel that way, but he does go on a plane and see you from time to time if his schedule is cooled off. To him the not everyday talking works great. That way the moment he sees you he has a lot to listen to and maybe talk back about some things happening in his life too.

❤️ Sae doesn’t mind you having a partner. He thinks your old enough to know whats best for you and trusts you in that too. Ofcourse if it doesn’t end up working he’ll always he there for you. Only thing he wants is that you keep an eye out for yourself and that your partner isn’t hurting you. He doesn’t necessarily need to meet them but if you insist he wouldn’t mind.

❤️ if you live abroad he’ll also visit you, but then he’s more willing to go out and explore where you live. It feels rather fresh to him when he’s somewhere different than Japan, as if he can breath. He will avoid public spaces a lot because he doesn’t want to be recognized. He might stay at your place for a few days before eventually going back to Spain.

❤️ He will give you random things from Spain, whether it’s a photo, a souvenir, typical spanish snacks or something else. He’ll always bring you something. It’s one of the rare moments he’ll text you and ask you what you want from Spain.

❤️ Unlike Rin, Sae doesn’t seem to mind if you don’t come to his matches. If you watch them on tv he’s happy. But if you don’t he doesn’t mind it. Seeing them irl is something he doesn’t expect. Especially if you live abroad or in Japan. Flights and Hotel costs are expensive. His tickets always get paid by the manager, he will try to get them to also pay yours. But he also understands if you don’t feel comfortable by it.

❤️ Sarcastic asf. It depends on how you take it but sometimes it just floops out. He doesn’t want to be mean but it’s in his system. It’s never curse words but more comments and he always seems to pause after he says it because he didn’t mean to say it out loud. He usually says that to others and can be seen as harsh or rather blunt. He tries to watch his tongue, he really does

❤️ Sae loves you without a doubt, the same goed for Rin even though he might not show it. He doesn’t see a need for friends or to actually regularly contact someone. But he’s happy that your the glue that sticks the bond with him and Rin. He knows you’re in a rough spot and tries to make it less harder for you. But he is grateful that you’re here to help him and tha babiest of brothers, Rin.

That’s all yall😜

[twrk11]

hello ,, hehe ,, i just came across ur acc and i love how you write for towa ,, is it okay if i ask for nsfw headcanons for taiga fico leo sho ren haku and jin (am more hoping for taiga leo haku and ren if you only write a specific amount of chars) , where mc is like real submissive for them in front of others, but in closed doors mc is dom hevfhbenfbeneb (⁠๑⁠♡⁠⌓⁠♡⁠๑⁠) ♡⁠(⁠>⁠ ⁠ਊ⁠ ⁠<⁠)⁠♡ feel free to ignore if it makes u uncomfy 🩷

NSFW Tokyo Debunker Headcanons & short fic | 18+

Characters : Taiga, Leo, Ren, Haku

Hello anon!! Glad you’re here ☺️!! Thanks so much for liking the Towa fic, I feel honored! I really did like this idea, I hope I fulfilled it the way you wanted!! This is personally my first time ever doing an ask so thank you for this!

I originally was going to do all the ones you mentioned but.. I ended up having too much fun. Took me a while to write all that I wanted! Perhaps i’ll revisit and do the other three?

(Apologies if some are longer than others! ~ 😢)

Content : All is of course consensual! No mention of readers gender, Smut, mentions of oral, riding, pegging, sex, begging, mention of a collar, brat, sub!characters, dom!reader, punishment, humiliation, bondage

words: 1415

Read under cut!

Taiga

-Definitely confused him the first time !

-You were so cute sitting on his lap at the poker table.. How did he end up fucked out of his mind?

-You were such a good submissive kitty.. He couldn’t help but think about pounding you until you were sobbing on how good it felt.

-He wants you to do it more though. He loves seeing you bounce on his cock. You’re so.. Eager,

-Don’t tease him, he will be angry and give you the nastiest glare he can muster (If he’s not fucked out)

-Grunts for sure, might be able to squeeze a whimper out every so often.

-If you don’t restrain him, he will claw and scratch at you.

-.. put a collar on him. Might piss him off but he’d also make such a cute kitty~!

-don’t get too close to his mouth, he might bite. He’s feisty.

“Gghh-“ He’d grunt, his brows furrowed. He’d jerk his hands, god those handcuffs pissed him off to no end. He’d glare at you, purposefully trying to rut his hips up into you harshly. He wanted to be in control! God- but when you slapped him when he did so.. he couldn’t lie, his cock twitched and throbbed. He wouldn’t warn you if he was about to cum, I’m .. quite frankly not so sure he could. But he certainly has tell tale signs!

“Mh~” A small whimper escaped his throat. Oh he might burst-!

“Go on.. you can cum~” you’d coo, gently running your hands on his chest.

He’d erupt immediately, his eyes shut as he couldn’t help the whines. His hands would shake, then he’d open his eyes, too dazed to even think.

Leo

-You were submissive in public—! It was perfect for his social media!!

-When you showed up in his videos and acted the way you did- you were so cute..

-It had helped fuel any of his fans desires at the thought of Leo being dominant. Really brought in the views!

-… how did he end up eating you out/sucking your dick with you calling him a good boy?

-either way.. he’s a brat. So fucking annoying

-He’d threaten to blackmail you.

-watch out, he miiiight try to spit on you.

-Just show him his place, might take a bit but he will eventually be broken down and a sobby mess for you~!

-He’d be so good at begging, and he loves to, even if he doesn’t wanna admit it

-He loves being restrained, please do so.. He wants to feel helpless.

-He’s loud.. like.. really.. really loud.. Moaning, whining, whimpering.

-He’d try to be quiet but eventually he can’t contain it—! You might have to help shut him up if he’s too loud..? Or you could let him be.. it’d humiliate him with how loud he is.

-Oh.. he’d hate to admit he loves being humiliated.

-Ride him, peg him/fuck him, he honestly loves it all, anything to get him a mess.

“F-Fuck-! M-Mmh~” He sobbed, he tried to not jerk his hips. Aahh.. but he couldn’t help it-! It felt like he had no control- over the situation or his body. Who would’ve thought you’d make him the pillow princess?

“I-Im gonna cum~!” He cried, he came immediately as soon as the words fell from his mouth.

.. Did you allow him to cum..? I don’t recall you ever did..? Don’t forget to punish him— Otherwise he will think he can do whatever he wants!

Ren

-He honestly quite liked how submissive you were in public. It made you so easy to tease and .. he’s mean.

-He got a real kick out of making fun of you!

-You were so agreeable and did whatever he asked, download a game and enter the referral code? You did it in a heartbeat! You were so eager to please!!

-.. Now he has to beg.. Fuck- he didn’t want to do that. That’s.. humiliating.

-Expect back talk. He’s definitely a brat.

-.. He will end up begging. And eventually he will be no stranger to it. The words really just can’t seem to help themselves other than to tumble out of his mouth.

-Oh he’s a whiner. He whimpers sooooo good.

-Please don’t restrain him— He NEEDS to grab onto something to keep him grounded.

-Whether that’s you or the sheets doesn’t matter he needs something, anything.

-(though I do believe he wouldn’t like touching much during sex just based on how he acts- I do think he has certain times and parts of the body he’s happy to have contact with. Does that make sense?)

-He definitely is a crier, it feels just too good.. he can’t help it.

“Fuck no! I’m not begging for you-“ .. Or so, that’s what he claimed. Slap him around a bit, toy a bit with his nipples. Oh, of course his nipples are sensitive. He’d shiver- it felt so so good-

“Why’d you stop..?” His voice was out of breath. His cock was so tight against his pants, this is not fair- Why were you playing games right now?

“Beg. You want more?” You’d demand, but would be met with a scoff. Didn’t he already tell you he’s not doing that? Who even put you in char- his cheek stung. His nipples hardened, as he felt his cock dribble out precum. No way he just got turned on from you slapping him— right? .. Tease his nipples a bit more, punish him until he finally begs. He’ll eventually learn that begging can get him everywhere!

“P-please~ C-cum-“ He can barely speak, just hiccup and sob words out, with his hands moving between gripping the sheets and your waist. His tears slowly slide down his cheeks- he’s so needy.. and once given permission he really can’t hold back anymore.

“Mm-mh~! M-MC-!” He sobbed your name as he came- his voice cracking.

Haku

-Oh you were just adorable when you reacted to his flirting.

-He really loved to tease you! He couldn’t help but imagine how you’d be in bed.

-He was so forward, and you were shy, obviously flustered easily. How could you not be submissive?

-.. Well.

-He was sorely mistaken, hm?

-He couldn’t help but love the view of you riding/fucking/pegging him, but goodness, his neck throbbed with all the times you bit him—!!

-He moans for sure, he’s quite loud too. Grunts and whines every now and then.

-He’d still tease you, he can’t help but be oh so forward with you.

-If he’s fucked out, he can’t help but look at you with a dazed expression- mumbling out how much he wants more.

-He’d LOVE to run his hands all over your body, he wants to connect with you in whatever way he can.

-He really wishes he could ravage you- you’d be so so cute.. Ah but your expression now.. He can’t deny how it makes his dick throb and ooze out pre-cum.

-He’s well behaved! But he will for sure be a bit of a brat. He can’t let you have it too easy can he? Though.. he’d happily do whatever you want, he just wants to satisfy you!

-He’s a massive slut, please make him cum over and over again. He doesn’t care if he’s overstimulated, he needs more. He’s insatiable.

-Loves praise! He craves knowing if he’s a good boy.

-Can’t help but love degradation as well, makes him feel so dirty. He really just wants to be your bitch.

“O-oh fuck— MC-“ He moaned as his lids seemed to flutter shut. You rolled your hips, just the way he liked. He let his hands roam over your body, gently caressing it .

“Please go faster baby- Mmh~” He slightly whined. He wanted you to use him- if it made you happy please do so. He really truly just wanted to be your whore.

“Yeah? Like that? Such a slut, begging for more. Mm- You’re such a good boy for me.” You whispered in his ear as you sped up, causing him to shiver and his cock twitch. When your hand wrapped around his neck and gently applied pressure, mixed with the soreness of all the hickeys littering his skin, he couldn’t help cum.

“F-fuck~! MC-! D-don’t stop please—“ He cried out- he needed more. Just truly drain him dry, he’d cum for you as much as you like.

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

I would like to request romantic yandere scott summers x reader where his darling has amnesia. Now I don’t know how they got amnesia but scott brings reader home from the hospital one day and takes reader home claiming the reader is his wife or husband( gender does not matter), even though they were not married before. Scott takes advantage of the fact reader has amnesia, I would also have to assume they are not at the mansion so scott can do his yandere doings

BAG OF BONES

Sinopsis. You remembered nothing, not even your name, yet he wove stories with threads of gold and promises. His voice, a refuge; his gaze, a cage. He claimed to love you like never before, like always. How could you doubt someone who swore to be your everything, even if his love felt like a prison disguised as home?

pairing ── Yandere! Scott Summers x Amnesiac! Reader.

Content. MDNI ── Dark themes, violence/death, blood, retrograde amnesia, forced marriage, inappropriate touching, insolation, invasion of privacy, kidnapping?, Slight mention of pregnancy, delusion, Angst, murdering, Disturbing Content, Death of a canonical character, lgbt?, Unhealthy Obsession, Gaslight, Mental Illness, Corruption, Isolation, Paranoia, Manipulation.

A/N ── English is not my first language—Spanish— Honestly, I've always been interested in the Yandere x Amnesiac theme. It's really fascinating how the psychology of the characters can be so complex in these types of stories. Also, thank you for being clear and concise in your request, and I hope you enjoy it.

They say one should never try to go back to the past, that the present is where we must live and the future what we must build. But how could you do that when you felt a piercing emptiness in your chest, a pain you didn’t understand? Your heart screamed that something was wrong, that what you were experiencing wasn’t real, that danger lurked closer than you could imagine.

The white glare of the hospital lights blinded you as you opened your eyes. You felt your body heavy, your mind clouded, and an absolute bewilderment that made you tremble. Everything felt strange, as if you were a piece out of place in an unknown puzzle. Then you saw him.

A tall man, with a firm build, wearing burgundy glasses that hid his eyes but not his excited expression. His smile lit up upon seeing you awake, and before you could say anything, his lips pressed against your forehead, your cheeks, your hair, leaving desperate and anxious kisses.

“Thank God you’re okay,” he whispered with a warm, relieved voice.

But you weren’t. You remembered nothing. Not even your name. Confusion filled you, and words wouldn’t come to your lips. He, however, seemed to have all the answers.

“I’m Scott Summers, do you remember me?” he said, taking your hand gently. His fingers were warm, but the way he squeezed them made you feel trapped—“We just got married.”

Married? The impact left you breathless. You looked at your hands, and there it was: a beautiful diamond ring along with a wedding band. Its shine seemed to confirm his words. When you looked up, you saw he wore a similar set on his left hand.

“I... don’t remember...” you started to say, but he shook his head gently.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re alive, and that’s all that matters. I’ll take care of you.”

His voice was sweet, reassuring, and you decided to believe him. Why wouldn’t you? Everything seemed to fit: the ring, the familiarity in his gestures, the way he looked at you. But deep inside, there was something you couldn’t silence.

There was something in his smile, something in the way his fingers never stopped touching you, that made you feel exposed. Vulnerable. Like you were a butterfly trapped in a display case, admired but with no escape.

How naïve you were to think that warmth meant safety.

When he took you to what he said was your home, the confusion inside you grew heavier, more oppressive. It was a small cabin in the midst of a lush forest, completely isolated from the rest of the world. Scott explained that the distance was necessary, that you had always preferred the tranquility of nature, away from societal judgment, especially for what you were: a mutant.

“You used to say that here you could be yourself,” he murmured with a smile as he parked the car. His words were warm, but they sounded strange.

As he guided you through the house, you noticed how his explanations seemed overly rehearsed, almost mechanical. The master bedroom was cozy, with dark wooden furniture and a large bed, but there was something unsettling in how orderly everything was, as if you had never truly lived there.

“This is the guest room,” he said as he opened a door. The space was filled with tools and paint, as if it were in the process of being transformed—“I’m preparing it for something special.”

You didn’t ask for what. There was something in his tone that dissuaded you from doing so.

The kitchen, however, came with a warning. “Don’t enter here without me, okay? I want to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.”

“Hurt myself?” The phrase hung in your mind as he showed you the rest of the house. Finally, you arrived at the living room, the space that unsettled you the most.

It was a mix of museum and altar. There were photos of you everywhere: smiling, reading, walking in a park you didn’t recognize. Some included Scott, his arm always firmly around your shoulders, and others showed a group of people who seemed unfamiliar yet strangely familiar.

In one of the photos, a group dressed in flamboyant, almost theatrical clothes stood out. It was a mosaic of colors and textures that evoked something lost on the edge of your memory. In the image, you were in a corner, embraced by a young woman with pink glasses who seemed a few years younger than you. On your other side, a brown-haired woman with white streaks smiled subtly, though she didn’t touch you. She seemed close, important.

However, what caught your attention the most wasn’t any of them, but a figure in the background, almost hidden behind Scott. A woman with bright red hair who seemed to look at the man with particular intensity. The photo was slightly blurry, as if someone had manipulated it or neglected it on purpose.

“Who is she?” you asked, pointing at the blurred figure before you could stop yourself.

Scott tensed immediately. His smile vanished for an instant before returning, though more forced. “Oh, just someone from the past. It doesn’t matter now. The only thing that matters is you and how happy we are together.”

You didn’t press. His response wasn’t enough, but something in his gaze told you that pushing was dangerous.

That night, as you tried to sleep, doubts burned inside you. Who was that woman? Why couldn’t you remember anything about your life, not even the people in those photos? And above all, why did every time you looked at Scott, the weight in your chest grew heavier, as if you were trapped in a gilded cage?

You didn’t love Scott. You couldn’t. Maybe you had at some point, but if that was the case, that love didn’t survive the accident that erased your memories. Now, he was a stranger, and his constant need for contact suffocated you. Scott wasn’t just clingy; he was voracious. Every caress felt like an indelible mark on your skin, every kiss a reminder that you weren’t free.

He adored being glued to you, almost as if he feared you would disappear if he let go. He insisted on bathing you, choosing your clothes and dressing you, his fingers grazing your skin more than necessary. He prepared every meal with devotion and served it to you as if you were a deity to be worshipped. But even those gestures, so carefully disguised as love, carried a shadow you couldn’t ignore.

“I want you to feel cared for, protected,” he would tell you with a smile as he brushed your hair. His words were sweet, but the way he said them was unsettling, as if he were convincing himself more than you.

Days passed in suffocating routines and deafening silence. Scott took you outdoors, around the cabin, making sure not to stray too far. He said it was for your safety, but you knew that wasn’t true. Every time you looked at the forest, so vast and full of possibilities, you felt a growing urge to run, to escape, even though you didn’t know where to go.

And then the flashes began.

At first, they were fleeting images, fragments that emerged when you least expected them. A smile that wasn’t from Scott. A soft laugh. Bright green eyes framed by fiery red hair. The woman from the photo.

Every time those memories surfaced, a sharp pain pierced your head, as if your mind struggled to protect you from something you didn’t want to know. But the most disturbing thing wasn’t the woman, but how you saw her: standing next to Scott, his hand in hers, their lips forming words you couldn’t hear. Happy. United. Almost as if…

No.

The first day you had that memory, you screamed in the middle of breakfast. The spoon fell from your hands as you instinctively recoiled in your chair. Scott was beside you in an instant, his hands firm on your shoulders, his eyes hidden behind glasses but his face filled with concern.

“What’s wrong, love? Are you okay?”

“I... I...” You tried to explain, but the words wouldn’t come. All you could do was look at his hands, those same hands that in your visions touched another woman with the same devotion as they now touched you.

Scott frowned, his expression darkening for a moment before a nervous smile returned to his face. “It’s just your mind playing tricks on you. It’s normal, sweetheart. Take a moment.”

But it wasn’t. And you knew it.

That night, as you brushed your teeth, the mirror in front of you trembled. Not from any external movement, but because your mind was slowly breaking, releasing pieces of a puzzle you were just beginning to recognize. A flash hit you, as if a storm were dragging you to another time.

She was there, the red-haired woman you had seen before, but this time she wasn’t a blurry image. Her laughter was warm, almost contagious, and you were next to her, shy, with a small smile that barely dared to emerge. Her hand rested gently on your arm while the other figures around you joined in the conversation.

The dark-haired woman with white streaks watched you with a mischievous look, an eyebrow raised as she crossed her arms. Beside her, a young woman with pink glasses laughed loudly, patting your shoulder as if she had known you forever. Nearby, another tall woman, with deep eyes and a majestic demeanor, looked at you with a mix of understanding and affection. They all seemed to encourage something, their animated voices like a chaotic melody you could barely comprehend.

“He’s a good man,” one of them said, her tone firm but kind. “He adores you!” exclaimed the youngest, with a beaming smile. “Just go and have a little fun.”

But not all were so enthusiastic. The red-haired woman didn’t share their laughter or their words of encouragement. Her expression was softer, almost melancholic, and her eyes met yours for a long moment. When the others dispersed, she stepped closer to you.

Her hands took yours, warm and steady, and for a moment you felt more protected than you had in a long time. She didn’t say anything at first, just hugged you tightly, her embrace speaking more than any words. Leaning toward your ear, her voice was a whisper, but her words were etched into your memory.

“You have my blessings…” Her breath was shaky, and you felt her fingers tighten slightly on your back—“And I love you.”

You stepped back slightly to look at her, but her smile seemed like a mask. There was something in her eyes you couldn’t understand at that moment, something that hurt you in a strange way.

The memory faded as quickly as it came, leaving you standing in front of the mirror, gasping. You gripped the edge of the sink, your fingers white from the pressure. Your reflection seemed distant, as if it weren’t yours.

Who was she? What did it all mean? And above all, why did her face, her voice, her embrace fill you with a warmth that made Scott’s love feel cold and forced?

The mirror in front of you trembled as you hit it with your hands, gasping, your pupils dilated with terror. Your reflection didn’t look like you. It was a broken version, trapped in a life you didn’t understand.

Scott appeared behind you like a ghost, his hands wrapping around your waist firmly. His warm breath on your neck made you shiver.

“You look tired, love. Let me take care of you.”

The first time you saw him in full clarity was in a dream, or so you thought when you woke up, gasping and with your body soaked in cold sweat.

You were in a dark and damp room, the air heavy with the metallic smell of blood. Your hands trembled as you held a fragile, cold, lifeless body: a woman with red hair, now dulled and stuck to her pale face. Blood stained her lips and flowed from multiple wounds on her chest, as if something had pierced her repeatedly. They weren’t normal wounds; they were small, irregular caves, burned by a heat that couldn’t be human.

Jean. Her name hit you like lightning. Jean. Now you knew, and the weight of that name on your chest made you sob as you held her against you, trying, futilely, to cover the wounds with your hands.

“No... no, please, wake up...” Your voice was a desperate whisper, broken, a lament in the void.

The sound of footsteps behind you made your body tense. You recognized them before turning around. Their walk was unmistakable: confident, calculated, almost victorious.

Scott was there. His figure was silhouetted against the dim light, his burgundy glasses shining with an unsettling glow. His face showed no sadness, no guilt. Only satisfaction.

“It had to be this way,” he said with a calm voice, too tranquil for the scene before you. His tone was gentle, almost kind, as if he were explaining something simple.

You stood frozen, your hands still holding the body of the woman, while your mind struggled to process his words.

“What... what did you do?” you managed to murmur, though your voice was barely a thread.

Scott took another step forward, his boots echoing on the stone floor. He knelt before you, ignoring the blood staining the ground and spreading like a river between you two. His hand rose to caress your cheek, and you flinched, unable to move.

“Now that she’s gone…” he continued, his tone filled with a sweetness that was terrifying—“nothing can separate us. We can be together, just as we were always meant to be.”

Your body reacted before your mind did. You let Jean’s body fall, stumbling backward, your hands still trembling, covered in her blood. “You’re crazy!” you shouted, though your voice broke into a sob at the end.

But Scott didn’t seem affected. He stood up with the calmness of someone who knows he has already won. He took a step toward you, and then another, until you had no space left to escape.

“No, love,” he said, leaning toward you, his breath brushing your ear—“I’m in love.”

The intensity in his voice paralyzed you. It was a declaration, not an explanation. He truly believed that everything he had done was out of love.

The dream, or the memory, ended there, with his face so close to yours that you could feel the warmth of his skin. You woke up with a start, a muffled scream in your throat and your heart pounding in your chest.

Your hands continued to tremble as you looked around the room. You were in the cabin, in your bed, but the smell of blood still seemed to linger in the air.

“Are you okay?” Scott’s voice broke the silence. He was next to you, watching you with his typical feigned concern, his hand already reaching for yours.

You instinctively recoiled, pulling away from his touch, but you tried to hide it. Your breathing was ragged, and you forced yourself to nod. “Just... a bad dream.”

He smiled, but his eyes behind the glasses didn’t stop watching you with that intensity that always seemed to hide something more. “I’m here for you. Always.”

That night, you decided you had to uncover the truth, even if it cost you your sanity... or your life.

A/N ── Yes, it’s not a happy ending, but at least it’s an ending that leaves a lot of room for reflection. I wanted to try out a conclusion like this at some point, and I hope it didn’t make anyone uncomfortable. Thank you for reading, and if you want to request something, feel free to do so as long as requests are open. More information in the pinned comment!

Take a bath!

[iesnoth]

hi this is random but I wanted you to know when I was a wee little 6th grader discovering what a fandom was via the first real book series I read (Artemis fowl) your art was always so memorable and so iconic I loved how you drew Artemis’s hair and would try to copy that. I remember hiding away in my math classroom on a chromebook obsessively scrolling deviantart and Pinterest for your art!

I am now in college and i am so delighted you’re still active on tumblr and still make Artemis fowl fanart (that one otomefowl game!) thank you for having such a big impact on me even though you do not know me!

Thank you so much for the kind message! I love how the art chain in the fandom works: when I was a little 13-year-old reading Artemis Fowl for the first time, I was looking to artists like rowein and megan-uosiu on deviantart, getting inspiration from them, so my art can inspire others, so their art etc etc.

I hope you're doing well in college, and look forward to the otome game! I'm coding it now!

[waynes-multiverse]

I was so tired yesterday I knew if I read it I wouldn’t do it justice, so had to wait till I was better rested.

I feel like this was a theme for all of us before the summer. I felt that comment in my tired bones 😂 Hope all's good with you, though! Missed ya a lot, friend 🤍

“Out of the two of us, you’re the way bigger wreck. Some would even think it’s your husband who died, not mine.” broke me

I'm glad it broke you! I was rather proud of that line 😂 Plus, I think she made a great point for Beau lol

I love Beau asking about the dating, and doing it about face as soon as he realizes other guys have made inquiries.

Haha yes! Beau was hearing that and going, "Dammit! And here I thought I was being an honorable gentleman by giving her time to grieve. Meanwhile, these cockroaches are already hitting on her like damn vultures! Her husband's body ain't even cold yet..." 😂

And the vibrator line – Quinn got apology cookies for the laugh that I cackled out and woke him!

Oh, she definitely was pushing boundaries there 🤣 And yay, cookies for Quinn!!! 🍪

I know it was meant to be sweet, but very, very bittersweet – beautiful!

Ooof, right? Part of what I loved writing about this series were these really tragic moments between them. There's always this "wrong place, wrong time" dangling in the air and tons of "what ifs". Well, hopefully the stars align for them... 😉

And BTW, you have the paragraph

Ah, thanks!!! That one got away from me. Finally corrected it after months... 😂🙈

I swear to the Gods, when I read “He was making up for lost time as best as he could, even if it meant taking you out every night for the rest of your life.” the next thing I heard in my head was “ because he doesn’t have much time left to do it,” and that stopped me cold. Foreshadowing, or too much Dateline – I’m not sure. But it gave me chills.)

Ooop, we'll see where this story leads... Might not be death that will haunt her and cause a rift 👀 (Or maybe it will 🤷‍♀️)

Quoting all these lines back to me? You're making my writer heart soar, woman! 😍❤️❤️❤️ (On a side note, I really loved the metaphor with the cassette tape. He really is her B-side 🥰)

“Not at all, Sheriff. You know I always appreciate your input,” (that double entendre got Quinn another cookie!)

I imagine Jenny internally also snorted pretty hard at that one 😂

And man, you ended on kind of an ominous note… I’ve got a real bad feeling. Whatever happens, at least they have that soft moment between them.

Yup, let's hope it won't be the last! 🤞

Polaris – Chapter 7

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, fluff, angst, serial killer, mentions of cartels, grief, smut

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: The chapter where we find out why Ted is on Beau's punch list aka The One With Ted... 😂

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 7: Storm Coming

May 2021

“I sold the house,” you said, your voice ripping through the quiet of the car during another starry stake-out night.

“So you’re homeless now?” Beau joked and peeled his eyes away from the front window view and glanced at you from the driver’s seat, his hand resting on the steering wheel, the other one in his lap.

You chuckled. “Yup, but I got a hot plate now in my motel room and one of those Italian moka pots. So, you know, some would say I’m living the dream.”

Beau snorted in amusement before he pensively rubbed his mouth with two fingers. “You didn’t have to sell the house, you know?”

You heaved a sigh. “Yeah, I kinda did, though… I didn’t like staying in there anymore. It’s just… too many memories, I guess? ‘Sides, I’m always down here anyways. Actually considering moving here.”

Beau frowned at you, his nose scrunching. “What, to Mexico? Are you nuts? Over my dead body are you doin’ that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had a say in it,” you retorted rather playfully and put a shocked palm on your chest in mock.

“Damn right, I do,” Beau scoffed his reply with a teasing grin. “Who do you think is lookin’ out for ya, huh?”

“Wait, you think you are? That’s what you believe?” You snorted a laugh, entering banter territory with him.

It was usually how you passed your time during most of these stake-outs – laughing, teasing, and the occasional talking about your problems. You’d never known Beau like this before. He was your husband’s best friend, but he had been more of an acquaintance to you. Now, after months of spending close to every day together, it felt like he was your best friend. Since Randy’s death, he’d been there for you, even if it was mostly out of guilt.

“Yeah, what d’you think?” Beau countered challengingly.

“Oh sweetie, you’re not looking after me. I’m looking after you,” you stated confidently. The smile that twitched on his lips seemed to actually agree with you. “Out of the two of us, you’re the way bigger wreck. Some would even think it’s your husband who died, not mine.”

“Are you calling me a girl?”

You coolly shrugged your shoulders. “Either I’m calling you a girl, or I’m calling you gay. I’ll let you pick.”

Laughingly, Beau scoffed and muttered, “You wish I was gay.”

However, you still heard his mumbled reply and responded, “Actually, I wish you were a girl and that I was gay.”

Beau stared at you and leaned back against the door for a better view of you, his brow raised and the corners of his lips drawn slightly upwards in amusement. “What are we even talking about?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted with a shake of your head.

The two of you then burst into loud laughter that filled the entire SUV. For a moment, all your sorrows and hardships seemed to be forgotten, carried away to the desert with the nightly breeze. Then, the familiar and comfortable quiet took over the car again.

“I’m moving out of the house, too,” Beau said, his eyes focusing on the barren landscape and desolate road ahead. “I’m giving it to Carla. I mean, she didn’t ask me to. God knows she can take care of herself… But I want Emily to keep living in the home she grew up in, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that. That’s really nice,” you said quietly. Your soft smile then morphed to a grin. “So you’re homeless, too, huh?”

Beau laughed, throwing his head back into the seat. “Yeah, guess I am. Maybe we should live together?” he suggested half-jokingly.

“Like roommates? Ugh, God no!” You scoffed in abhorrence. “We’re way too old for that. You’re over forty, I’m barely in my thirties–”

“You do know I know exactly how old you really are, right?” Beau teased.

You decided to ignore that jab and continued, unbothered. “It would be seriously so sad. The Widow And The Divorcee – sounds like the worst sitcom on the planet. ‘Sides, it’d be super awkward if one of us starts dating again.”

“Fine, maybe you’re right,” Beau relented with a soft chuckle and then glanced at you sideways. His heart gained speed in his chest. “You ever think about it? Dating? Gettin’ out there again? Been nine months.”

You twitched your shoulders, choosing not to look at him. “I don’t know. Is nine months long enough after your husband died?”

Thoughtfully, Beau licked his lips and let out a small sigh. “I don’t think there’s a timeline, or a right and wrong. I just think it’s one of those things that when you’re ready, you’re ready.”
 “Well, consider me not ready then, I guess,” you replied honestly.

“Alright,” Beau accepted, bobbing his head. “But I still think you should try again at some point, you know? You shouldn’t be alone for the rest of your life. First of all, it’d be a total waste, ‘cause, I mean, look at you. And secondly, you’re barely in your thirties, after all,” he repeated your earlier joke with a soft grin.

You felt the heat creep to your cheeks in the moonlight. As you looked at him, you could see his smirk, making you laugh. “Noted,” you replied and were thankful for his pep talk. “I mean, there’ve been offers.”

Beau quirked one eyebrow, a hard lump forming in his throat as his chest tightened. “Offers? Like plural? Who?”

“Well, just some of the guys from our team. Cody, Jordan, Ted…” you named a few. “Also a few locals. Remember those guys we played pool with a few weeks ago? Two of ‘em asked for my number.”

“Huh. That is plural…” Beau pursed his lips and couldn’t keep his brow from wrinkling, his grip on the steering wheel stiffening. “Well, you know, when you’re not ready, you’re not ready. Shouldn’t force anything. No rush, darlin’.”

Smooth, Beau thought wryly with an internal sigh.

“Right, I know,” you agreed. “I do miss sex, though. Getting kinda bored of my vibrator.”

Beau choked on his spit. “Jesus…”

“What? Am I not allowed to talk about it? I thought we were friends. You’re supposed to care about my well-being and happiness,” you argued, frowning.

“I do care. Just… Can we please not talk about that?” he begged and exhaled a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his freckled nose.

“Fine. I miss having women around…” You shrugged and muttered, “Didn’t peg you for a prude.”

“Okay, let’s just get one thing straight – I’m not a prude,” he clarified in defense, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red.

“Alright, also noted,” you quipped, smirking to yourself. Sometimes you enjoyed making him a little uncomfortable. His blushed cheeks could be quite cute. “What about you? Have you still not talked to Carla? I’m sure you can win her back if you tried. You’re a lot better now.”

“Well, thank you for the, uh, vote of confidence, but it’s really over, I guess. We just talked about all the divorce proceedings last time. I actually think she started datin’ someone recently,” Beau told you.

Your eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really? Who?”

“I guess some rich tech guy. I don’t know…”

“And you’re good with that?” you questioned in disbelief.

Beau scoffed a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “Ha, no… But what am I gonna do? Kinda shot myself in the leg with that one. I don’t blame her for moving on. It’s been over for months now.”

“That sucks. I’m sorry. I was kinda rooting for you two,” you admitted.

“Well, thanks, but we weren’t you and Randy,” Beau said. It made your brow knit.

“What d’you mean?”

“C’mon, you know what I mean,” Beau replied as if it were obvious, but you still shook your head. He sighed. “You and Randy would’ve never gotten divorced.”

“You don’t know that.” Honestly, you doubted it yourself, but you were too curious to find out what he meant by his statement.

“I do know that,” Beau insisted with certainty. “You guys had that once-in-a-lifetime kinda love. The kind that made other people jealous, you know? Your love made every other relationship pale in comparison. I always figured once the honeymoon phase was over, you’d settle and be less vomit-inducing, but that never happened. Me and Carla were never like that. Not even in the beginning,” he explained, a small, soft smile shaping his mouth. “You guys were special. True love. The stuff folk singers write cheesy songs about.”

“I guess we were,” you mused quietly, the memory of everything Randy was to you causing tears to well in your eyes.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Beau apologized as soon as he noticed the sadness on your face. He reached his hand over to your side and squeezed your thigh gently, just above the knee.

“No, it’s alright,” you brushed him off, swallowing your heartache down. “But hey, if Carla wasn’t your once-in-a-lifetime, maybe she’s still out there. You just haven’t found her yet. I mean, that’s kinda a nice outlook, right?”

Licking his lips, he bobbed his head, his gaze focused on his hand on the steering wheel. “I doubt it.”

“Why? Never say never,” you said encouragingly.

“Well, maybe I already met her, and it’s too late now,” he replied. It sounded more like an actual fact than a hypothetical theory. You found yourself wondering.

“What, did you have like an old college flame? The one that got away?” you teased lightheartedly, but he only grew more serious.

“Somethin’ like that,” he replied vaguely, rubbing his mouth with his fingers.

“Look her up on Facebook. Maybe she’s divorced, too. You could reconnect or something,” you suggested. He nodded but didn’t seem too convinced. You then shot him a hesitant glance from your periphery. “So, now that Carla’s moving on, are you gonna start dating now, too? Jump back into the game?”

“I guess so… Why?” A part of him was curious to hear your response, while another part reminded him that his desired answer was only wishful thinking – and completely insane on top of that.

“That fiery brunette lady at the bar last night seemed really interested in you. Maybe you should hook up with her if she’s there again tomorrow night?” you proposed in earnest.

Wide-eyed, Beau blinked at you in incredulity – like you had lost your goddamn mind. “I’m sorry, what?! Hook up? Who are you right now? Are you tryin’ to set me up?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged simply, not seeing what the big problem was. “Don’t look at me like I’m trying to convince you to get a tramp stamp above your ass with a dirty needle. I’m just trying to be a good wingman… woman. Randy would’ve tried to set you up, right?”

Beau sighed frustratedly. “Yeah, he would’ve,” he admitted in a grumble and then barked, slightly more furious, “But you ain’t him. And I don’t want you to be, so stop it, alright?”

“Geez, I’m sorry. I was just trying to help,” you mumbled defensively and raised your hands in surrender, unsuccessfully hiding your upset over his reaction. He felt guilty when he saw the small pout on your face.

Beau rubbed his forehead before dragging his palm over the rest of his face. “I know. I’m sorry, too,” he said and let out a deep breath through his nose. “I just-… I guess I’m just waiting, okay?”

“Waiting for what?”

Beau squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. For you to be ready, he wanted to say. But he couldn’t very well do that now, could he?

“For Christ’s sake, Y/N…” he breathed exhaustively. That was all he managed to say. With his palm on his mouth, he rested his elbow against the car door, gazing out the window.

“Why are you so upset?” you asked, your brow woven with confusion.

“Switch subjects,” he requested.

It was a phrase the two of you used whenever you didn’t want to talk about something anymore. When someone pushed too much, or the topic got too emotional and you needed a break. The only rule was to always respect the request, so you had no choice but to let it go after that.

“The Texans game sucked last night, huh?”

That elicited a snort from him, and he looked at you with a warm smile. “Yeah, goddamn awful.”

“How many times are you gonna watch those?”

Beau’s question broke your concentration. Your gaze snapped from your laptop screen to his concerned face. You’d been rewatching the victims’ videos for four days straight now, trying to find more clues. Maybe even something that directly led to Diane.

“I keep thinking maybe I’ve missed something,” you mumbled and stared back into the computer, your teeth gnawing on the pen between your lips. “It’s 48 hours each. We have twenty-four victims. I keep watching them sped-up to get through them all, but maybe I should slow ‘em down. I mean, I’ve watched them full-length, normal speed a couple of times before, but maybe I should watch ‘em even slower and really focus, you know? There’s gotta be something there…”

Bobbing his head worriedly, Beau pursed his lips and took a scan of your desk. He counted eight empty cups of coffee and five cans of energy drinks. There were bags under your red eyes and your hands were jittering. He knew you hadn’t slept a lot. He tried to hold you in his arms, but as soon as he dozed off, you snuck out and went back to work.

Beau shut the laptop. “You’re cut off.”

“Hey!”

“Y/N, you need to sleep. Just look at you, darlin’. This obsession isn’t healthy. I’m taking you home,” he declared sternly, ignoring your protests. You were pretty sure he had used his dad voice, too.

“Y/N, you need to sleep. Just look at you, darlin’. This obsession isn’t healthy. I’m taking you home,” he declared sternly, ignoring your protests. You were pretty sure he had used his dad voice, too.

“I need that woman in prison, Beau.”

“You startin’ to sound like Jenny…” Beau quipped under his breath.

“We’re running out of time. There’s only one day left before the next victim drops,” you stated and tried your best to keep your voice steady as it broke off towards the end.

“I know.” Beau clasped your shoulder and squeezed gently. “And we’ll get her. I promise you. But you’re no good to any of us if you’re exhausted and losing it right now.” You nodded and rose from your chair. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you flush against him, kissing the top of your head affectionately. “How about some dinner, huh?”

You grinned warmly. “What, like a second date?”

“Exactly like a second date,” Beau said and mirrored your grin. He was making up for lost time as best as he could, even if it meant taking you out every night for the rest of your life.

Your phone buzzed on the table, your brow quirking at the number. Eagerly, you picked up and wound yourself out of Beau’s embrace. “Special Agent Y/L/N… Uh-huh… Great, thank you.”

Beau pursed his lips. “We’re not going out, are we?”

“‘fraid not, Sheriff.” You shook your head and chuckled at his groan. “That was IT. They’re finally done and sending over the IP addresses.”

“Alright, guess I’m gettin’ take out,” Beau announced with a small sigh, knowing the two of you were in for a long night – and not the one he had planned.

You smiled and pecked his lips. “Thank you.”

August 2020

Beau’s heart thudded frantically in his chest as his knuckles tapped your front door in the early evening. The sky was a color spectacle full of azures, indigos, and apricots as the summer sun slowly set. His boots only stood on that same spot not even twenty-four hours ago. It still felt like a surreal nightmare he couldn’t escape, his hope to wake up soon a ceaseless prayer.

He’d stayed with you all night, held you as you cried yourself to sleep. Beau awoke on your couch with your head resting on his thigh and a strange feeling in his gut. He couldn’t help but think you were beautiful, even in a state of utter turmoil, shoving said thought swiftly down into the depths of his darkening soul.

But he’d spent all day thinking of you, plagued by guilt and torn by misplaced feelings. He’d sat through hours of interviews, going over and over the events of last night till his mind spun like a hamster wheel. He was forced to fill out forms, sign documents, and recount each unforgettable step. He’d listened to lectures, sermons, and admonitions. His captain gave him a tongue-lashing that sounded like mere white noise before he was sent home with a suspension – investigation pending.

Only he didn’t go home; he came here.

At home, his wife and daughter were waiting – for a husband, a father, an explanation. None of which he could provide. Beau wanted to wallow in his grief, his guilt, his loss in peace. He lacked the strength to be strong, play pretend, and act above it all. He wanted to be punished, sent to perdition, and held accountable for his lapse of judgment. A suspension wasn’t good enough. It barely patched the abysmal gaps in his heart.

The only suitable punishment was you. Witnessing your suffering was his personally crafted hell. You were the broken remnants of his destruction, the shattered pieces of his idiocy, the explosive fallout of his arrogance.

And you hadn’t answered a single call or text of his. His torturous worry was part of his penalty.

Consecutive rings of the doorbell and incessant knocks remained unanswered. For a moment, Beau rested his forehead on the door. He felt helpless and clueless all the same. You had friends and family to take care of you, probably better suited and closer to you than him, but somehow he felt burdened with the responsibility.

He took the spare key out of the left-side planter and barged inside. The ground floor was deserted. Last night’s uneaten dinner still sat untouched on the table. It felt like a whiplash against his bare back.

Bolting upstairs, he found the door to the main bedroom ajar. He pried it open slowly, the sight of you delivering his second lashing. This time, he felt the sting burning through to his heart.

He found you curled up in bed, on your husband’s side, in your husband’s t-shirt, with your wedding photo album clutched tightly in your arms. His breath halted for a moment; his heart did, too.

Did he do this? Was this all his fault?

“Y/N?” His deep voice was quiet and careful as he spoke. Slowly, he walked over to your side and knelt down in front of you. “Darlin’, hey… You need to get up. Eat somethin’.”

Beau was sure you hadn’t moved all day. He didn’t ask you if you were alright or how you were doing. The question seemed insulting. The answer was obvious. Your phone was lighting up on the nightstand with a million unanswered calls and messages, his own among them. Your beautiful eyes were vacant, red, and empty. You didn’t cry, however, not anymore. You were dehydrated and all out of tears at this point. You never looked at him, not even a glance.

“I want him back,” you whispered, your voice coarse from screaming, crying, cursing.

Beau nodded, licking his lips. Caringly, he caressed your head, brushing a few strands of messy hair out of your face. “I know. I hope you know I’d trade places with him in a heartbeat if I could.”

For the first time your eyes found his. Your gaze was scathing and piercing. “Tell me what happened.”

Beau let out a harrowing sigh. He had rehashed the story all day long. He wasn’t sure if he could do it again, but maybe this version was the most important one. Who deserved the truth more than you?

“Y/N, I don’t think this is such a good idea, darlin’,” Beau tried to reason, mostly for himself. He wanted to hold on a little longer, the idea of you hating him tearing him apart. He wanted to spare himself the additional guilt, the anger, the hurt.

“Tell me or leave.”

Beau closed his eyes and nodded hesitantly. “Okay, alright.” He took a deep breath and settled down on the floor, leaning his back against the wooden bedside table. “We were closing in on that biker gang. Few murders, arms trafficking, drug deals… You know the drill. I’m sure Ra-… he filled you in.”

Not that long ago, Randy had asked you for advise on the case. You gave him your contacts in the DEA and a number to a CI.

“Your DEA guy warned us. Said the gang was working closely with the cartel down in Juárez. But I had my own intel that only a few members were meeting at the Hatcher warehouse in MacGregor. It was supposed to be a small deal. But I figured it could lead to bigger things if we shook ‘em down, you know? But fuckin’ Harper told us no like usual. Refused to give us back-up. Said to pass the case on to the DEA. But Randy and I worked our asses off the last few months to get even this far. We were so close. I didn’t wanna let go… So, I suggested we go in anyways. It was supposed to be only three guys from the gang. I knew if we were smart about it, we could easily take ‘em down, you know?”

You rolled onto your back and propped yourself up on the bed. Shaking your head, you chuckled humorlessly and grabbed the half-empty whiskey bottle from the nightstand. “‘Course you did. It’s not the first time you broke a rule or shit on authority.”

“Yeah, and I was right every single time,” Beau bit. His anger wasn’t geared at you but at himself. He knew he was in the wrong. He flew too close to the sun and got burned. But he still felt the need to defend himself, even if it was unjustified.

His gaze drifted to the dresser and the patch of wall above it, decorated with photographic evidence of yours and his partner’s life together. The wedding, dates, vacations, holidays – it was all there. Beau had watched it all, start to finish. He wished he could rewind the tape and cut off the ending, all so you could have the love of your life back. He didn’t know yet your cassette had a B-side. One that featured him.

“You got fucking lucky, is all,” you scoffed.

“Randy backed me up on it!”

“Of course he did! You’re his fucking partner! He would’ve followed you anywhere if you asked him to,” you snapped, shaking your head. You gulped down some whiskey then and locked your jaw before you met his eyes again with a glare. “And? What happened then, Beau? Was it only three guys?”

“No.” The word was almost inaudible. He shook his head with a harsh swallow. “They were meetin’ with a few cartel members there. My intel never said anything about that. When we were inside and saw what was really going on, it was already too late to get out. They made us, bullets started flyin’… They got a hold of Randy and… shot him.” A tear escaped down his cheek, his throat closing as he tried to choke out the last bit of the story. “I had to leave him there. I barely got out myself. I’m sorry, Y/N. I know this is on me.”

Your lips twitched with a bitter smile. You didn’t look at him, just rubbed your tired eyes. “Damn right it is. Get out.”

“Y/N, please–”

The storm in your eyes made him stop as you met his gaze, his useless apologies becoming stuck in his throat. “I said, get out. I ain’t asking a third time. You’re the reason my husband is dead. You’re the reason I don’t even have a body to bury. So, get the fuck out.” Like a snakebite, your words were targeted, sharp, and venomous.

You finally got out of bed and prodded towards the en-suite bathroom. The truth had been what you needed to switch the fighter inside of you back on. You knew what you wanted to do then and were determined to get it.

“Y/N–”

“Do you know what cartels do to bodies, Beau? To rivals? To law enforcement? ‘Cause I just came back from a job where we found forty-eight decapitated bodies, left to rot inside the walls of a house. Still haven’t found the heads yet. Probably never will,” you told him and stared him dead into his dark green eyes. “Ever seen that before, desperado?”

Beau bit his lips, averting his gaze. “No.”

“Yeah, didn’t think so.” You scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “Now, leave. Please. Get the fuck outta my house. I don’t wanna see you anymore,” you spat and slammed the bathroom door shut behind you.

Beau then grabbed the whiskey bottle you’d left and walked out of your home. It was the first of many nights he started to drink himself to sleep, but at least it kept the nightmares temporarily at bay.

“Theodore.” Beau forced a bright smile onto his freckle-dusted face, although the stiff features could barely fool anyone. At least, they wouldn’t have fooled you.

“Beau, good to see you again.” Ted smiled and did a more convincing job of it as he waltzed into Lewis and Clark County’s Sheriff’s Department. It almost seemed like he meant it. “I was surprised when Y/N told me you got a gig as a sheriff here.”

Translation: I was surprised because you were such a fuck-up back in Texas.

Beau feigned a chuckle. “Yeah, I bet you were.”

“Hopefully, you’re givin’ the DAs here less headaches,” Ted jabbed under the disguise of friendly banter. He then turned to Jenny with that same shit-eating grin. “Your sheriff is a little troublemaker.”

Sweet Lord, Beau wanted to whack the bastard.

The blonde deputy coolly brushed the accusation off. She shrugged and playfully nudged Beau’s arm, sending the Texan attorney a smile. “I prefer him that way.”

“Hey, there she is!” Beau smiled with frazzled relief when you finally hurried into the station. A little while longer, and he definitely would’ve thrown a punch.

“Hey, Ted. Thanks for coming. How was your flight?” You greeted him with a warm smile and a quick hug.

“Good, good. Never been to Montana before,” Ted said and then let his eyes wander up and down your body. “Look at you. You look great!”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” You subtly cleared your throat. You could physically feel Beau stiffen next to you. In your periphery, you could spy a tightly clenched jaw and a few strained muscles in his neck.

“Mind if Y/N and I borrow your office, Sheriff Arlen?” Ted asked and emphasized his title. “Considering the nature of this case, I’d like to keep it as private as possible. Don’t want anything to reach Ms. Newton’s ears.”

Your hunch had been right. Several IP addresses pointed to Diane, some to public Wi-Fi’s. You and the team still needed to connect her to the other states and find out where she’d been staying there, but you could definitely trace some posts in recent weeks to her home in Montana. It was enough for an arrest warrant, but you still needed more evidence.

Additionally, it had all come together a little too easily. It seemed like a giant trap you were walking into. Diane wanted to be caught. But why?

“Why don’t I just join you? I’m sure Y/N here doesn’t mind,” Beau suggested with a tight smile and then snaked his arm around your middle, pulling you closer. “Ain’t that right, darlin’?”

Internally, you sighed a little at his obvious territorial pissing, but you were willing to throw him a bone. You stretched up and claimed his plump lips in a fervent kiss that Beau only all too happily reciprocated.

“Not at all, Sheriff. You know I always appreciate your input,” you replied with a dirty smirk at the double entendre.

As Beau looked down at you, he mouthed ‘God, I love you.’ You grinned in response.

“Happy to give it to you,” he said with another sweet peck of your lips. A triumphant and slightly cocky grin graced his lips as he looked back at Ted.

“Oh, so you two are back together?” Ted realized, his brow rising to his hairline. He’d never seen you two together but certainly had heard the whispers down in Mexico from your old task force. He’d been the DA for those cases as well. You’d never explicitly told him about you and Beau, though, even when he had tried to pry a little on those dates you went on.

“Well, I’m a hard one to quit,” Beau quipped almost proudly, like a peacock showing off his fan of feathers.

“As are cigarettes and many other vices,” Ted shot back with the same stupidly proud grin.

Translation: You’re an ass. And a failure. She deserves so much better. I’m ‘better.’ But maybe that didn't need a translation.

Beau should’ve known it was hard to out-argue a lawyer and ground his jaw. After all, he’d been married to one for many years.

You, on the other hand, shared a wide-eyed and baffled look with Jenny that bordered on amusement. You had almost gasped in shock. You hadn’t expected such a fiery reply, sure the men would stick to their Southern manners. But, oh well, everyone’s packing in fucking Texas…

“Why don’t you two go ahead? I’ll join you in a minute,” you ordered more than you earnestly proposed and shooed the two men down the hallway towards Beau’s office.

“Sure it’s such a good idea to lock those two in a room alone?” Jenny teased, her eyes lingering a little too long on Ted’s perfectly formed ass as he sauntered down the hall.

You couldn’t blame her. You had checked out Beau’s in the same breath.

“It’s only for a short time. They’re not gonna kill each other,” you laughed it off. Jenny arched a doubtful eyebrow at you. “That quickly,” you added a correction. “So, what did I miss here?” you asked and nodded towards the two men, closing the door to Beau’s office behind them. All you heard last was them talking about the recent Texans game.

Ugh, of course, they’d end up by football…

“Dick measuring contest,” Jenny supplied wryly.

“Ah, figured…”

“Well, better them than to lock Agent Y/L/N and the sheriff into the same room,” Poppernak joked with a soft chuckle as he appeared next to you and Jenny, chiming into the conversation.

You gaped at him in mock-shock. “Mo! I can’t believe you just said that,” you chided playfully.

His cheeks turned crimson red. “I’m sorry, Special Agent Y/L/N,” he apologized in a fluster.

“Mo, I told you to call me by my first name,” you reminded him with a smile. “Or I’m gonna have to start giving you silly names like Beau does.”

“Oh, I love Sheriff Arlen’s nicknames,” he quickly defended with a nervous laugh.

“Do you?” Jenny tilted her head with a questioning eyebrow.

He shrugged. “They’re clever.”

August 2020

“Old Fashioned,” you ordered with a look at the bartender, feeling Beau’s confused eyes and crinkled brow wander up to you. “Couldn’t have picked a nicer bar, huh? This place is a dump. You know that, right?”

Beau clicked his tongue and took a sip from his Ranch Water. “What are you doing here? Thought you never wanted to see me again.”

You let out a small sigh but didn’t meet his gaze. “Carla called me. Your family is worried about you.”

“I didn’t tell her where I was. How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t. Carla said you haven’t been home in three days. Figured you’d gone on a bender. This is the fifth cop bar I checked out. Finally got lucky,” you said and thanked the bartender as he placed his drink in front of you. You settled down on a barstool next to Beau.

“Quite the effort. Sure I’m worth it?”

Your tongue swept over your lips. “Beau, look at me.” His forest-green eyes found yours upon your soft plea. “I’m sorry I put all that shit on you. It wasn’t fair. It’s not your fault, okay? His death isn’t on you. I know you loved him like a brother.”

“I did.” Beau took another sip of his drink. “But it is my fault. I was reckless and arrogant. We both know it.”

“It was a set-up, alright? I talked to my DEA contact. Cody said your intel was wrong. They knew you and Randy were closing in on them. They wanted to get rid of you,” you explained.

Beau smacked his lips. “I still shoulda known better. I should’ve seen it was a trap.”

“Maybe,” you admitted. You couldn’t say you would’ve done the same thing, but you knew Beau would’ve never purposely put Randy in danger if he had even the faintest idea. “But it could’ve happened to anybody. This was bigger than you knew.”

“It wouldn’t have happened to you,” he stated quietly. You couldn’t argue with that. You were more by-the-book than he was. You would’ve never gone against a superior’s order. You would’ve respected it.

“Look, just go home. Talk to your wife. Get some help,” you said. “You missed your suspension hearing, but I spoke on your behalf. Told them it wasn’t your fault. The DEA backed me. Harper’s gonna reinstate you. Just come back as soon as you’re ready.”

Beau nodded slowly. Even if he didn’t say it, you could tell he was thankful for your efforts. “I can’t go home.”

Your brow furrowed. “Why? I’m sure Carla will understand. You need to talk to someone about this. Go to therapy – and not the alcoholic kind. Losing a partner is not something you get over quickly. You need people in your corner, including your wife.”

“You mean the wife that lets criminals out on the street?” Beau’s gaze was focused on the glass in his hands. The wrinkles on your brow deepened. “The guy that shot him… Carla’s his defense attorney. Was, at least. He was supposed to do time, but two months ago, she got him paroled.” With a dark chuckle, he emptied his glass.

“Beau…” You knew he had always struggled with Carla’s job, making you sometimes wonder about their dinner conversations at home. “It ain’t her fault more than it is yours. She’s just doing her job. You know that. You’ve been together for so long, you’d think you’re used to it by now.”

Beau scoffed a chuckle and gestured to the bartender for a refill. “I was a young cop back then. Wasn’t on the job as long. I didn’t know it would bother me so much. Still lived in that hopeful bubble, I guess.”

You smiled knowingly. “You mean the ‘I didn’t think I’d see as much shit and injustice as I do now’ bubble?”

He snickered softly. “Yep, that one. Just didn’t think it’d be this hard, you know?”

“I get it. I mean, me and Carla butt heads all the time over this stuff. But we do it in a competitive fun way and then get drunk,” you said with a light chuckle. “Guess it’s different when you’re married, though, huh?”

“Yeah, it is…” he sighed.

“Still, go home. Talk to her,” you encouraged but could see your words of wisdom fell on deaf ears. “By the way, the funeral’s on Saturday.”

He turned his gaze away from his glass and found your eyes. “You need any help with that?”

“Maybe you can give a eulogy. You knew him best. I think he would’ve really liked that,” you said with a warm smile. No matter your own feelings, you knew deep down Randy would’ve wanted you to forgive his partner.

“Yeah, I can do that. Anything you need, okay?” Beau clasped your hand that laid on the bar counter and squeezed reassuringly before dropping it again.

You smiled appreciatively and teased, “Maybe show up sober. Or at least close-to.”

Beau chuckled a little. “I promise.”

You stood up from your seat then and put some cash for your drink on the counter. “Alright, I’m heading home. You need me to call you a cab?”

“Nah, I’m good. I’m just gonna finish this drink, then I’ll head out, too,” he said.

“You sure? Don’t make me come back here,” you threatened playfully.

Beau laughed softly. “I won’t. Thanks for everything, Y/N. I mean it.”

You sent him a smile and gave his shoulder a squeeze on your way out. “You’re welcome. Get home safe, okay?”

However, Beau couldn’t keep any of his promises. He made it home after three more drinks and woke up on the front lawn of his house. Carla wasn’t happy when she found him in the morning as she brought Emily to school. But Beau couldn’t stop. Every time he closed his eyes, the tragic events flashed before him like a horror movie, witnessing Randy’s death in a never-ending loop. He kept seeing his partner get dragged away, heard the shot over and over again like a rain of bullets without a ceasefire.

The guilt was eating him alive. The guilt of getting his partner into this mess in the first place. Of leaving him behind. Of surviving and coming out alive when he didn’t deserve to.

So, Beau kept drinking to forget, even though he knew it was a futile endeavor. The memory would never fade, but at least it was blurred.

Your heavy breaths echoed through the small trailer. His mouth moved down the column of your throat, leaving a wet path of ravenous love bites in its wake.

“Fuck, baby,” you moaned wantonly, his grip on your flesh punishing as he kept you pressed flush against him while he devoured you on the little dining table. Your ass sat on the wooden surface, your crossed ankles locked tightly behind his muscular back.

“God, you made me so happy today,” he growled against the shell of your ear, his rising length rubbing against your core through layers of denim.

“I can see that.” You giggled, your hands dangling in his hair. “There’s no need to hate him so much, you know?”

“Says you,” Beau quipped and unzipped your jeans, eagerly pulling them off you as his mouth sucked your clavicle purple and blue. “That slimy coyote always had it out for me.”

Beau removed your panties as well, tossing them behind his shoulder where they landed in the kitchen sink. “Whoops.” He grinned charmingly but was unstoppable, freeing his throbbing dick as he shoved his jeans and boxers barely over his ass. He didn’t bother to slip out of them all the way, too impatient to wait any longer to enter you.

“Still, I’m already yours. I’ve always been yours,” you said and braced yourself on his broad shoulders as one large hand on your back pulled you closer to the edge of the table. His other hand grabbed his cock, twisting his fist along the hard, long shaft a few times before he glided his cockhead through your slick folds.

“Not always.” With one harsh thrust, he pushed inside you, your tight walls fighting to make room for him and adjust to his stretch.

You gasped at the pleasurable burn that coursed through your body and ignited every sizzling nerve. He dropped his head to your shoulder, giving both of you some time to get used to each other. You could tell you were in for a wilder ride tonight. You always loved when he fucked you rough and hard. There was something raw and animalistic about the need in his hypnotizing green eyes.

Beau then claimed your lips with one fervent kiss, enough of a spark to cause a wildfire. He met your gaze, hands gingerly cupping your cheeks. “But I love that you’re mine now. And I’m sure as hell gonna make you mine tonight, darlin’.”

You crashed your lips against his, your kisses frenzied and untamed as his hips began to slam into you. His pounds into your pussy were relentless as you swallowed every inch of him. You gripped him tight, already feeling your first orgasm bloom. It accumulated like dark, violent storm clouds on the horizon, forecasting roaring thunder and heavy rainfall.

“Oh God! Fuck, baby!” You screamed as your climax tore through you like a hurricane, your cunt gushing on his cock and pulsing around him. Your nails dug into his shoulder blades and scratched down his back as you came undone.

Beau groaned into your ear, squeezing his eyes shut as he barely held on himself. But he didn’t let up and kept up his furious pace, not ready to stop yet. “Shit, keep doing that. You’re so fucking tight, Y/N,” he grunted against your skin, your sensitive flesh barely withstanding his ruthless pumps. “Want you to come again, darlin’.”

With his declaration, his hand slipped between your sweat-clad bodies. You came close to losing your mind as he thumbed furiously at your clit, the stars already starting to twinkle in front of your eyes. You could feel yourself get shoved to the edge once more, staring down the steep cliffs of white-hot ecstasy.

Your mind was consumed by need, his grip on your hips bruising as you exploded. You cried out raucously, your whole body quaking in his hold upon your eruption, the aftershocks so powerful they could cause cracks in your bones.

Beau spilled his seed deep inside of you, his body stuttering in rhythm with yours as your earthquake took him down with you. Hazy gazes met each other with lazy smiles as ragged breaths mingled.

“Fuck, that was good. I think that one might make it into our Top Ten.” Beau chuckled gravelly and placed a gentle kiss on your temple.

“Hmm, not sure. We have a few greatest hits.” You giggled and bit down on your lower lip with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. “Can I tell you something?”

Beau cupped your cheeks, thumbs caressing the heated and rosy skin as he lifted your gaze. “Anything.”

“Just between us, you’re the best lover I ever had,” you confessed with a wide grin. The corners of his mouth rose to match yours.

“Well, between us, I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. You’re it, darlin’. You know that, right? You’re the love of my life,” Beau revealed, making you smile brighter than you ever had before.

“I’m not sure about the sex, but this moment, right here, is probably gonna make it into the Top Ten,” you said softly as a few tears stung your eyes.

“Good.” Beau smiled and pecked your forehead.

The buzzing of a phone shifted your attention. You recognized it as yours, and Beau was quick to retrieve it from your jeans pocket in the pile of clothes on the floor.

“It’s Jenny,” you told him before picking up. “Hello… What?! Uh-huh, we’ll be right there.”

Beau’s brow furrowed as he watched your features flicker through an array of emotions. “Bad news?”

“Uhm, honestly, I don’t know,” you said and swallowed some of your confusion down, gathering your thoughts. “Jenny said Diane just walked into the station and gave herself up. She is ready to confess but only wants to talk to us.”

“Us? As in us two?” Beau’s eyes narrowed. You nodded. “Well, that doesn’t sound fishy at all,” he commented wryly.

“Yup, I don’t like it.”

Chapter 8: Chemical Bonds – JUNE 26

A lot of revelations and foreboding in this one... 👀 Also, I just love having Beau say the word "coyotes" for some reason 😂

Join the TAG LIST here! 🌌 Wanna sponsor my caffeine addiction? ☕️

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70 @brightlilith

@nesnejwritings @autistic-gothic

Everything Beau Arlen: @snowayumi

Polaris Series: @corruptedcruiser @spnfamily-j2

[disposal-blueeee]

VARGASTOBER - day 1 : edgar vargas

[starleska]

I love how rapidly your bio changes on "currently simping for" – it adds an extra layer of fun to visiting your blog, guessing who it might be this time 🙌😂

hahahaha thank you my friend!!! 😂💖 perhaps we can make it into a little game...collect them throughout the year and then slap 'em together at the end to make a really funny collage 🙈 honestly, half the time it seems fruitless to keep it up-to-date because blorbos come and go and cycle back round so often...but given the, ahem, severity of a certain icy fellow's hold on my brain right now, it only feels right to give people a heads-up 😳❄️