#but i tried my best to find most appearence descriptions

[jestroer]

HERMITS IN DRESSES BACK WITH STRESSKALL!!

Inspired by wonderful, awesome, fantastic fic by @mawofthemagnetar The Sky Weighs Heavy Tonight!!! Couldn't stop thinking about their wedding dresses!!! :DDDDD

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

"obstinate, headstrong girl" part 1 - aaron hotchner x fem!reader

in which you meet the incredibly irritating (who said that?) aaron hotchner at a party. you do not hit it off.

wc: 4.6k

cw: enemies to lovers! mentions of food & alcohol, jemily agenda (i'm not sorry), reader is hella stubborn, hotch is kind of a little bitch

a/n: this is part 1 😈 there will be more, trust

big fat thank you to my bestie @cerisereids for all her help workshopping / brainstorming with me! i also got the BEAUTIFUL dividers from the immensely talented @saradika-graphics

You hate bars. Most of the time, they feel like a meat market, with men ogling you up and down, surveying you like they have x-ray vision and are trying to determine if you’re worth the chase. 

Tonight is slightly different in that you are not going to this particular bar to chat up men. Your very good friend, Penelope Garcia, invited you and your other friend, Jacqueline, to a bar for a coworker’s birthday. Not just any coworker. The coworker, the Derek Morgan, that Penelope just rants and raves about. They are soulmates, from what you understand, in a weirdly flirtatious, sibling-type relationship? 

Penelope has tried to explain it to you and has always ended up confusing both you and herself. It is what it is, she’s said in the past. He’s my chocolate thunder, and I’m his babygirl. 

You think it’s best not to try and unpack that. 

Jacqueline is a couple of years younger than you and Penelope. She’s just a couple of years out of college, whereas you’re a couple of years out of college, plus a couple more years. Jacqueline is sweet. She’s painfully shy, though, and you and Penelope are determined to break her out of her shell. There’s another coworker of Penelope’s who, from what you’ve heard, would be a perfect fit for Jacqueline. His name is Spencer, and he’s supposedly this young, cute genius. Like, actually a genius. Certifiably.

The goal tonight is for Penelope to find a moment to introduce Jacqueline and Spencer. You’re tagging along so that those intentions could be a little bit better masqueraded. You and Penelope also know for a fact that sweet, sheltered Jacqueline would not attend a party at a bar full of strangers by herself. 

You don’t mind being a chaperone, of sorts. Jacqueline is like a little sister. You just want her to be happy, so you don a cute red dress, pick up Jacqueline in an Uber, and off you go. 

The bar isn’t nearly as crowded as you thought it would be. It’s still busy, sure, but there’s enough room to walk around without bumping into someone. That seems to calm Jacqueline’s obvious nerves when you enter the establishment. Your eyes scan the place until you finally spot what appears to be a party room just off the main part of the bar, and you see a flash of familiar blonde hair with pink highlights. 

“There’s Penny,” you say to Jacqueline, and nudge her with your elbow to follow you. 

You’re the leader as you serpentine through the bar patrons, and Penelope turns around to spot you just as you reach her. “My sweets!” she squeals, wrapping both you and Jacqueline into a tight hug. “Thank you so much for coming!” Penelope gestures to the party room, which is open for integration into the rest of the bar. It all seems very flowy and casual, with guests either standing or sitting with a drink in hand, talking and laughing with one another. 

There’s a table in the corner with decadent cupcakes that you’d bet are homemade, all crowded on a tiered stand, and various birthday decorations hanging from the walls. The jukebox in the corner plays 80s and 90s hits. You spot the birthday boy in an instant across the room, and you know it’s him from Penelope’s ridiculously detailed descriptions. He’s like a cheetah, personified, Penelope said before, and yeah, that might be accurate. 

Except for the bright blue, glittery party hat strapped crookedly to his head and the sparkly sash around his shoulders that says BIRTHDAY BOY in big, bold letters. 

“There’s snacks, and water in the corner if you’re not feeling booze,” Penelope goes into full hostess mode and points to everything. “How about you lovelies get some drinks, and then I’ll introduce you around?” She suggests. 

Jacqueline is ever the quiet one in all social situations, and you can tell she is overwhelmed by the noise, or maybe the amount of people that she doesn’t know. You know that she would be a little less nervous with a drink in her system, so you nod to Penelope’s suggestion and agree to meet up with her after visiting the bar. 

Jacqueline follows you like a lost puppy as you snake through the crowd again. One of the few perks of being pretty women, though, is that once you reach the bustling bar, your orders are quickly taken. 

You get an amaretto sour for yourself, a Malibu pineapple for Jacqueline, and she leans against the bar next to you as you wait for your drinks. “Lots of people here!” Jacqueline exclaims with a sheepish chuckle. She smooths the ends of her cinnamon-colored bob, one of her nervous habits you’ve picked up on over the few years you’ve been friends. 

“Yeah, but we love Penny, and she loves all the people in there,” You nod towards the party room. “So it’s like we know they’re cool by association, y’know?” 

“I guess,” Jacqueline shrugs, unconvinced. She’s lived a fairly sheltered life, from what you understand. Strict parents, so she never dated in high school, and always focused on her studies in college rather than a social life. It’s good to get her out of her shell. 

You’re given your drinks and you head back to the party room, where Penelope is speaking to two men. They’re both tall, but one is younger, with brown hair and a patterned sweater vest. The other is older, with dark, nearly obsidian, hair, and stark, narrowed eyes to match. He’s in dark, belted jeans, with a black polo to match his hair. When you and Jacqueline approach Penelope, you lock eyes with the older man for a fleeting moment.

He looks at you like you’re an outsider. And sure, maybe in this particular situation, you are. But with his tapered eyes, watching your every breath, you get the feeling that he thinks you shouldn’t be here. 

Penelope ushers you and Jacqueline into the conversation and introduces you. “This is Y/N, and Jacqueline, my two really good friends,” she says, then gestures to the lanky, younger man first. “This is the brilliant Dr. Spencer Reid, and the Unit Chief of the BAU, Aaron Hotchner.” 

Your eyes land on Aaron and he outstretches his hand, obviously out of obligation. “Pleasure to meet you both,” Aaron says coolly, and you shake his hand chastely. Your eyes flicker over to where Jacqueline shakes Dr. Reid’s hand. He’s already insisting she call him Spencer. 

Penelope was right, you think. Spencer and Jacqueline have an immediate connection. 

“Likewise,” you say to Aaron, merely matching the indifferent energy he’s putting out. Penelope, in true hostess fashion, excuses herself to check on Derek, leaving the four of you in an awkward conversation square, with Aaron and Spencer facing you and Jacqueline directly. 

“Penelope says you’re all in a book club together?” Spencer proffers as a conversation starter. He’s looking directly at Jacqueline, like he’s got tunnel vision, like she’s the only other person in the room. 

She nods and sips her cocktail through the thin plastic straw. “We’ve been going through the classics, one by one. Started with Pride and Prejudice a couple of years ago, now we’re working on War and Peace,” she explains. 

“Oh, fascinating,” Spencer seems incredibly interested by this. “I love Tolstoy. Did you know his wife, Sophia, helped him tremendously during the editing process? Over seven years, she hand wrote the manuscript eight different times, all while carrying and birthing four children.” 

Jacqueline loves weird facts like this, so she beams. You smile softly at this and are immediately met with thoughts of how tooth-achingly sweet these two would be if they got together. 

You and Aaron play audience as Spencer and Jacqueline’s conversation continues for a few moments more, until finally, Spencer suggests they sit at a booth to continue. Jacqueline shoots you a look, like, sorry for abandoning you with the grumpy guy! And you merely shrug as you are left alone with Aaron. 

“Well, aren’t they just adorable?” You flash a bright smile, and when your eyes meet Aaron’s, it falls. He’s so stoic and unemotional. You know he’s just standing with you to be polite, but at the same time, if he’s so uninterested in having a conversation with you, why is he still here? 

Aaron gives an impassive hum of civil agreement, and you clear your throat. “So, you’re Penelope’s boss, then?” you ask, rather than simply make an excuse to leave this awkward, cringey hellhole of a conversation. Maybe some petty part of you wants to see who will break first. 

“That’s correct,” Aaron’s fingers are wrapped around the glass tumbler of what is presumably whiskey that is in his hand. His forearm flexes a little as he shifts the glass in his palm. 

“What’s that like, working for the FBI?” you ask, shifting your weight to one hip as if to tell him that you’re getting comfortable, that he shouldn’t expect to go anywhere. 

“About the same as working anyplace else, I’d expect,” Aaron’s giving you absolutely nothing to work with, so you’re incredibly thankful when Penelope approaches the two of you again. 

“Oh, look at that!” Penelope squeals, squeezing your arm. She nods over to Spencer and Jacqueline, sitting across from one another at a booth, both leaning forward on the table, endearingly engaged in conversation with each other.

Jacqueline’s babyish face is plastered with an earnest smile, and you love seeing your friend so captivated and clearly in her element with Spencer. 

Penelope was right, they’re clearly well-suited. 

Unlike you and Aaron. 

“And what are you two talking about over here?” Penelope croons, waving a teasing finger between you and Aaron. 

“Not anything in particular,” Aaron’s deep voice beats you to it, and you feel your jaw tense slightly. He avoids contact with you, just stares at Spencer and Jacqueline. 

“Yeah, Penny, I was hoping you’d introduce me to the rest of your team,” you suggest, smiling saccharinely at Aaron before making pleading eyes to your darling blonde friend. 

Penelope’s chocolatey brown eyes dart from you, to Aaron, and back, and you can almost see the gears shift in her head. “Right,” she gets it, and you nearly sigh in relief. “C’mon then, Y/N, let me show you off!” 

You nod curtly to Aaron. “Nice meeting you,” you spout off, totally out of obligation. 

“Likewise,” says Aaron, mirroring how you’d thrown the terse colloquialism at him before. 

Your nostrils flare and Penelope manages to drag you away before you rip him a new one. “What the hell is all the animosity about?” Penelope asks as soon as you’re out of earshot. You see that Derek, the birthday boy, has approached Aaron in your absence. 

“Not animosity,” you correct Penelope, taking a chug of your Malibu pineapple. “He doesn’t like me, for some reason. Seemed to have made his mind up on that real fast.” 

Penelope scoffs. “Hotch?” You deduce quickly that this is Aaron’s nickname. “He’s such a sweetheart. You must have just caught him in a bad moment, Y/N. I swear, he’s one of the sweetest guys I know!” 

You purse your lips and feign an open mind. Penelope introduces you to the rest of her team - David, an older Italian man whose glass of wine cost about three times as much as your cocktail, then JJ and Emily, a blonde and a raven-haired woman who are obviously in love. 

Emily’s got her palm splayed across the small of JJ’s back, and the blonde leans into her touch. You wonder briefly how their relationship was approved by Aaron Hotchner, because, as you understand it, he’s their boss and he can be quite the stickler. 

“He can be a grump at times, that’s for sure,” Emily says before taking a sip of her wine. “But he’s a really great boss. He’d do anything for any one of us.” 

“Including going to bat for us staying on the team together after our relationship became public,” JJ adds, and you furrow your brows, shooting a sideways glance to the man in question. He’s still across the room, speaking with Derek, leaning against an empty spot on the wall and nursing his glass tumbler of whiskey. 

That guy? You think. That guy went to bat for the benefit of other people? 

“That surprises me,” you admit. “He was so cold when we spoke just a few minutes ago.” 

JJ, Emily, and Penelope all seem to share a look. They clearly know something you don’t. “Well,” Penelope starts, her voice inclining. “He’s sort of… going through a hard time right now,” she scrunches up her nose and shrugs her shoulders, as if to indicate that she can’t really say more on the matter. 

It’s none of your business, you remind yourself, but you also want to smack Penelope for dangling a carrot like that. 

“If he comes off obtrusive, just know you’re not experiencing the real Hotch,” JJ concludes. You spot Emily squeezing her hip as if to say that’s a good way to put it. 

Whatever that means, you think, and shrug your shoulders. “No skin off my back,” you attempt to appear nonchalant. Hopefully they won’t be able to tell that the thought of someone not liking you makes you want to rip your hair out. 

“Right,” Emily agrees, just as JJ and Penelope share a look. 

The two blondes smirk at each other. Simultaneously, they say, “Profilers.” And you wonder what the hell that’s supposed to mean. 

Over the next thirty minutes, you’re shown around the room by Penelope, introduced to a few more people. Finally, Penelope notices that the cupcakes are all gone and runs off to the kitchen, where she has more store in case of this very specific emergency.

You find yourself tucked away at a table in the corner of the party room, halfway hidden by the imposing and comically large jukebox. As you scan the room, you notice Jacqueline and Spencer still at the booth, still engaged in what appears to be very riveting conversation. Jacqueline’s got this demure, girlish smile on her face, and lightly flushed cheeks. 

“What do you make of that?” A voice asks, and you don’t see anyone around. You lean back in your seat and can see through the sliver of visibility between the jukebox and the wall. That Italian man, David, has just asked Aaron the question, gesturing across the room to where Spencer and Jacqueline sit. 

“Hm,” is all Aaron has to say, and you scowl, furrowing your brows as you watch him watch your friend. “She seems nice enough. Kind of a dud, though, isn’t she?” 

“A dud?” David repeats, scoffing. “She’s been keeping up with Boy Wonder for nearly an hour now. I’d say she’s either an alien or a miracle.” 

Damn straight, you think. 

“I suppose,” says Aaron, and you roll your eyes. He must hold an ungodly amount of pride. Probably totes it along with his stupidly expensive whiskey and his judgmental expressions and opinions about people he doesn’t know. Sure, you’re casting judgment on someone you don’t know, too. But this is different… somehow. Jacqueline is obviously very earnest and sweet, and Aaron is acting like he’s suspicious of her.

“Garcia’s other friend seems sweet,” David goes on to say. You’re not ashamed to admit that your ears perk up a little at this. “She’s fun. Asked me about my wine. Made a joke about cutting a rug with me on the dance floor.” 

“She’s something,” Aaron exhales as he says this, and you feel your jaw tighten a little. 

Something? What the hell does that mean? 

“What the hell does that mean?” David shares your train of thought, though his voice is lined with an omniscient, teasing lilt. “She’s cute. You don’t want to ask her for her number?” 

“No,” Aaron says quickly, too quickly. “No, I’m not even slightly tempted.” 

You feel your ears burn, and you look down at the empty glass in your hand. This has been your only drink tonight, and you’ve been nursing it for the better part of an hour. You let the condensation slicken your palm.

“What’s the matter with you?” David goes on to ask. “She’s very sweet, and she’s got a great sense of humor. And she’s beautiful, I might add. Why aren’t you interested?” 

You stand up from your seat, deciding you’ve had enough eavesdropping for one night. You don’t want to hear what faults Aaron Hotchner saw in you after a three-minute conversation. Feeling a bit self-protective, you march past David and Aaron without so much as looking at either of them. You don’t know if they notice you. 

You resolve not to care. 

Jacqueline joins you at the bar about thirty minutes later, and is smiling like an idiot.“So, Spencer’s really nice,” she says, breaking out her ID so she can buy another drink. She’s so smooth-skinned and utterly gorgeous that she does, in fact, get ID’d every time she orders a drink. 

“Yeah?” You smirk at Jacqueline just as the bartender comes back with your second drink and takes your friend’s order. “He seems really into you, too.” Even if his friend is a massive prick.

“I think we’re gonna go out,” Jacqueline beams, biting her lip anxiously. “Like, on a date.”

“That’s great!” You grin, glancing behind Jacqueline to see Spencer speaking with Aaron across the now-dwindling crowd. At this point, there’s just a handful of patrons for the bar, and only Penelope’s team remains in the party room for Derek. “You should! He’s obviously very polite, maintains good conversation. I’m only seeing green flags.” Except that his boss is a judgmental tool. 

“I just get so nervous, y’know?” Your friend says as the bartender brings her drink. 

“I know you do, sweetie, but he’s just a guy,” you begin. “He’s not some cosmic being who will alter the trajectory of your entire life simply by taking you on a date. He’s-”

“What?” Jacqueline follows your eyes, whipping her head around with no amount of subtlety. Her cinnamon curls flounce as she notices the same thing you are. Aaron’s staring at you, those unrelenting raven eyes. What’s he trying to do, burn a hole through your head? 

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” you mutter. 

“What is it?” Jacqueline’s constantly aware of the people around her. It’s a blessing and a curse. Mostly a curse, since you’re her Emotional Support Friend. 

“I just… don’t worry about it,” you wave it away, not wanting to stress her out. 

“No, what is it?” God. He’s still looking at you, maintaining his conversation with Spencer. You let your gaze wander and you see his lips moving. Is he talking about you so blatantly? 

You suppose you’re talking about him, but still. 

“I just don’t like Aaron, that’s all.” 

“Why not?” Jacqueline’s nutmeg brows furrow, and you meet her confused expression with a shrug. 

“We just don’t vibe. Don’t worry about it, Jackie, seriously,” you nod. “I’m not gonna, like, challenge him to a duel.” 

Before Jacqueline can attempt to defend someone she doesn’t know (God bless her), Penelope’s waving at you from the party room and beckoning the two of you towards her. 

You and Jacqueline grab your drinks and oblige. Derek and Emily are shifting tables out of the way, creating a small, makeshift dance floor in the middle of the party room. 

JJ is queuing up a few songs on the jukebox, and when “Take My Breath Away” by Berlin comes filtering through the speakers, a slightly tipsy Penelope is singing into her margarita and demanding that Derek slow dance with her. 

You end up standing by Spencer and Aaron, to your dismay, and you think for a second that Spencer isn’t going to ask Jacqueline to dance. That wouldn’t be totally out of character, but he does, and Jacqueline’s beaming, leaving you alone with Aaron. 

You let out a slightly annoyed huff and stir your cocktail with the little plastic red straw. You meet his unwavering gaze with narrowed eyes. “Do you like to dance?” You ask with half-assed interest. 

“Not if I can help it,” Aaron says, and you wonder for a moment if he’s joking. The ever-serious look on his face says otherwise. 

“I was looking for a pretty young lady!” A voice cuts in, and you turn to see David Rossi, of all people, standing before you. 

You smile softly. You know he isn’t flirting, he isn’t romantically interested in you, that he’s just being a nice older man and going out of his way to make you feel included. And you can’t help but feel warmth from him. “We were just talking about dancing,” you bring him into the conversation, clocking how Aaron’s jaw visibly tenses. 

“Ah, dancing. I remember when we had clubs all up and down the streets. You could go in and just dance until your feet hurt,” David prattles, and you purse your lips in the side of your mouth. He only looks like he’s in his early sixties, but you resist the urge to call him old, to tell him he’s acting like a grandpa. 

“Do you like to dance?” Aaron’s asking you all of a sudden. You spot Penelope and Derek slow dancing as well as Spencer and Jacqueline. Emily and JJ have even joined in on the fun. 

“I do,” you say simply, pursing your lips at him. And maybe it’s a little mean, but you look at David and plaster a devilish little grin on your face and hold out your hand. “Dave? Wanna cut a rug with me?” 

Aaron watches as Rossi throws his head back in one of those wheezy, old man laughs. 

“It’s been a long time since a pretty young lady asked me to dance,” the Italian man jokes, and Aaron knows that is simply not true. As a best-selling author, Rossi weirdly gets a lot of groupies. 

Aaron feels like he has a smokescreen up, and behind it, he’s fuming. He’s not jealous of Rossi, because he knows Dave’s just being friendly. But Aaron doesn’t think it shouldn’t be Dave dancing with you. It should be him. 

He doesn’t know why he told you he doesn’t dance. Maybe it’s this whole divorce with Haley. It was finalized nearly six months ago, but Aaron’s still reeling from it, he supposes. He’s not been on a date. He’s not even so much as looked at another woman in a romantic capacity, until you walked in tonight. Your hair looks so shiny, your face made up all glowy, like you literally have a halo hovering over you. 

It’s incredibly frustrating.

He didn’t know what to do. He panicked. He doesn’t want to see anyone right now, or at least, that’s what he’s been telling himself for the past six months. He wants to focus on his job and on being a good dad to Jack. 

But, god, the way your dress hits you right above the knee. He wants desperately to see your thighs. He’s been thinking about them all night, actually, how supple the skin might be, how sensitive. That’s why he’s been so cold to you all night - he’s trying to push you out of his mind, trying to focus on anything else. But you’ve got an attitude and a good sense of humor, and he couldn’t help but stare. 

It’s the same way he can’t help but stare now, when Rossi places one hand on your waist and clasps your other one. You’ve got one palm on Rossi’s shoulder, the other holding your drink as you occasionally sip it. 

You’re laughing and Rossi’s got crows’ feet from smiling, and he sways with you to the music. That song from Top Gun. Aaron wonders briefly if you’re old enough to have even seen Top Gun in the theater. 

You’re young. You’re not too young, per se, but you’re right on the line, Aaron thinks. He’s gripping his tumbler of whiskey - his third since you entered the party because god, does he need a vice right now - and his jaw is clenched as he watches Rossi twirl you out. 

Your laugh is heavenly and melodic and Aaron, for a split second, considers leaving just because of it. 

Aaron leans against the wall by the jukebox, the odd man out, with your friend Jacqueline dancing with Spencer, Garcia with Morgan, and, of course, JJ with Emily. He doesn’t mind being the odd man out, watching his team have a good time. It’s you he feels excluded from. 

Okay, maybe you’re not totally sober, you realize, as David twirls you out a second time. You hold on tight to your drink, but your steps aren’t completely precise, and your back slams into a muscled chest with a clumsy grunt. Amaretto sour splashes over the side of your glass and onto a pair of brown, Italian loafers. 

Gargantuan hands graze down your elbows, then clench your forearms as you regain your balance, and you turn around to see the brick wall of a person you’ve run into. Aaron’s stupidly dark, hazelnut eyes are drawing down your body. They bore into you and you feel your entire face flush, all the way down to your collarbone. 

“You spilled your drink,” Aaron exhales sharply through his nose, and you feel your expression harden. 

“It was an accident,” you bite back, taking a step away from him, enforcing the space you desperately need to keep from clawing his eyes out. You don’t hate people. But, god, is this man getting under your skin.

Aaron opens his mouth, and you think for a split-second that he’s about to reassure you. But he just clamps his mouth shut, into a straight line like a ruler. “Right,” is all he says. You take a deep, serrated breath and turn pointedly on your heel. 

As you return to David to dance, Derek cuts in, and you and Penelope swap partners. Derek is respectful as he places a hand round the small of your back, and you smile softly when you see Jacqueline and Spencer. They’re barely moving, and Jacqueline’s gray-green eyes are looking up into Spencer’s brown ones, and you nod in their direction. “God, they’re cute, aren’t they?” 

“It’s a miracle Pretty Boy’s lasted this long,” Derek chuckles. You arch a brow at this, so he continues. “He doesn’t do too well with the ladies. Not like yours truly,” he jokes, flashing his teeth. 

“Oh, please,” you tease playfully. You tug at his sparkly blue birthday sash to further your point. Derek laughs and spins you around. 

“So what’s going on with you and Hotch?” Derek asks. You roll your eyes. 

“Nothing,” you insist. “I barely know him. I barely know any of you, besides Penelope. God, you guys are really mixed up in each other’s lives, huh? I’m definitely not that close with my coworkers.” 

“Oh, we’re not just close,” Derek laughs. “We’re family.” 

“And Aaron is, what, the overbearing father?” You ask. You’ve had a couple drinks, and your filter is more or less nonexistent. 

“See, I knew there was something going on between you two,” Derek teases. You glare at him. He holds one hand up defensively. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop, but you’re in for trouble, sweetheart.” 

“How so?” 

Derek nods over to Jacqueline and Spencer. Both their feet are still planted in the same spot, but they’re swaying together. It’s dorky as hell, but so cute you could cry. You understand what Derek means before he even says it. “You’re about to become friends-in-law. The more Jacqueline sees Spencer, the more you see Hotch.” 

Your eyes flicker over to the man in question, now sitting at a table and talking with David. There’s some kind of magnetic tug, and Aaron’s eyes meet yours, and your knees buckle a little beneath you. Either you’re drunker than you thought, or you really are in trouble.  

edit: read part 2 here

[mcuamerica]

Stranded | Part One

Featuring (in the next part): Azriel x Fem!Reader, Eris x Reader (platonic), Rhys x Sister!Reader

Summary: Azriel left you in the Autumn Court border while Rhys was at a ball with Amarantha and the other High Lords, leaving you trapped outside of Velaris with the enemy... Requested by @sidthedollface2 here.

Warnings: 18+ only, description of wings and skin burning, misogyny, alludes to SA, let me know if anything was forgotten...

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

Dividers from @saradika

You stood in your black and navy dress, feeling ridiculously out of place next to the maroons, dark greens, and golds of the Autumn Court. While Azriel, one of your best friends and your brother's Spymaster, escorted you to the Court, he quickly forgot his guard duty and winnowed away to find Mor.

"Mor's upset. I gotta go." Was his excuse, leaving you alone and outcast in the Forest House. According to Azriel, taking care of a safe female in Velaris (that he had puppy dog eyes for) was more important than guarding of the Lady of the Night Court in enemy territory. You were sure Rhys would be pissed if you decided to tell him about Azriel's disappearance.

You were starting to feel tired and bored as you stood on the wall, so you decided to leave. If you could get out of the Forest House bounds and cross the wards, you could winnow back to the town home. You really wanted to get out of this dress and take a nice bath. The Autumn chill wasn’t terrible, but you missed the summer breeze in your city.

You walked out of the court, watching as most of the Autumn Court guards paid you no attention. As you made your way out of the Forest House, you took in the fresh air. It was always too stuffy and crowded in ballrooms for you. You were glad to be outside. At least you could stretch your wings out here.

You tested your winnowing abilities as you made way through the wards. However, just as you made to winnow back home, your magic stuttered. You let out a small gasp, trying to reach down to that deep pool of darkness, but just a small puddle was left. You took another breath, trying to recall what you drank. You came up empty, literally, as you didn’t take any drink offered throughout the night.

You heard Rhys’s voice ring through your head. “Keep Velaris safe. Don’t tell anyone. Amarantha has taken our magic. Be careful. Protect the city. Protect each other.” And then he went silent. Your mind… you tried reaching out to him but nothing happened.

You started to panic, looking around to see if somehow Azriel came back for you. But from what you could tell, you were alone. You almost turned back to enter the Forest House. But, with Autumn being nothing short of an enemy, you decided to chance your luck with the forest in front of you. It was too wooded to take off from your current spot, so maybe you could find a clearing ahead.

Taking a deep breath, keeping calm, you started to walk north. If you could make it to Winter, maybe Kallias would allow you to cross into Night uninterrupted. Winter was normally your closest ally, and you quite liked the High Lord when you met him.

You walked for a few minutes, taking deep, calming breaths as you made your way deeper into the woods. Every sound sent a shiver down your spine, and you were just waiting to see that clearing of trees.

Instead, three males approached from the right. You took a deep breath, tucking in your wings as you pressed against a tree. The males appeared drunk, but stable. They weren’t stumbling just yet, but you could smell the alcohol from where you stood. Which meant they would catch your scent as soon as the wind turned.

You took another deep breath, walking forward. They couldn't touch a member of the Night Court. They would be butchered for it. You kept your head high as you continued to walk, only pausing when one of the males called out to you.

"Hey! What are you doing out in these woods?" Sentinels. That's the kind of clothing they wore. They were guards for the forest.

"I'm going home. Can't winnow." You said, tucking in your wings in hope they wouldn't see them in the shadows of the night. You tried to will the darkness to you as you normally would, as Rhys taught you to, but only a little bit of it budged. Amarantha took the High Lords powers... meaning each and every other power tied to their court would be restricted even more.

"Unfortunate. You look like you're a long way from home, as an Illyrian." He said, stalking over to you. It seemed they had no problem provoking a member of the Night Court.

"I am lady of the Night Court. I need to get to my people." You said.

"Ahh, the Night Court." Another one said in a mocking tone. "Lady? You look little more than a whore to me." He said and walked from behind his friend, backing you into a tree. "Shall we see what the Night Court thinks of us when we burn its lady's wings to ashes?" He asked, fire flickering on his finger tips.

Of course. They were in their home Court. No matter how little magic the High Lord had, the land would provide more of it. "My brother will incinerate you if you do."

"My brother." The male teased in a high pitched voice. "Who? Rhysand? That little bastard?" He asked, hand nearing your wing. "He won't even care when we're done with you." He said.

You tried to side step, but two sets of arms restrained you. And then came the pain.

You let out a blood curdling scream as hot, burning flames enveloped your wings. Along with the bark of the tree behind you cutting into your tendons. You fought as hard as you could, pulling away from the males as best you could. The males dug deeper, surely drawing blood from your arms but you didn't know as the fire tore through your wings. Over your pain and screams, you heard a belt unbuckle.

"Never fucked an Illyrian before. Let's see if what they say is true." The male in front of you said. You continued to struggle, but the pain of your wings burning was too much. The smell of the membrane and, gods... the skin of your back, was enough to make you pass out. But you stayed conscious, willed the little magic in you to cast a net of darkness around your wings. You prayed to the Mother that the darkness would snuff out just one tendril of the flames.

Your screams must have alerted the guards of the Forest House, because next thing you knew, a familiar voice was commanding the males to step away. You fell to the ground as the males released you. As quickly as the flames enveloped your wings, the were snuffed out. That didn't mean your wings were repaired. They were completely in ruins. Torn in almost every place, tendons burnt to a crisp that the most important ones had snapped. Your back was raw, blisters forming on the skin. Even the braid that cascaded down your back was burnt, leaving your hair singed and ragged against your shoulders.

You whimpered, the small ounces of your magic working to heal whatever it could.

"Lady (Y/N)," You heard that familiar voice again. You couldn't move. You couldn't look up. Who was talking to you? "It's Eris... we need to get you to a healer before this gets worse." The High Lord's heir said.

"Worse?" You rasped, your voice nearly inaudible because of your screams. You couldn't bring yourself to keep talking. Only thinking in your head as your body sagged further into the ground, nothing is worse than this.

Azriel's back seized in pain, a terrible, yet amazing feeling snapping in his gut.

Rhys had spoken to them mind to mind just minutes ago, telling them what happened. And leaving Amren in charge of them.

Azriel couldn't leave Velaris. Whatever magic Rhys threw out completely shut the wards and borders. He couldn't winnow to his High Lord. And more importantly, he couldn't winnow to you. He asked Mor to try and get out, but she was stuck as well. Rhys trapped them inside the city, effectively trapping you outside as well.

Only thing is, Rhys expected Azriel to be with you. To protect you and get you home safely from Autumn. Instead, he went to Mor because she was upset about something. And left you stranded.

He was just about to tell the others that they needed to find a way out when the pain and the snap hit. In a few blinks, his entire world shifted.

The others went silent as Azriel jerked where he stood, his wings fluttering behind him.

"Azriel?" Cassian asked, frowning as his brother jerked again.

Azriel took a few deep breaths as the pain died down, and then came to the horrible realization of what snapped in his gut.

"(Y/N)-" He paused and stared at his family. The ones that might just kill him when he said what he was about to. "(Y/N) is in the Autumn Court."

"What? I thought she came back with you?" Mor said.

"She's in the Autumn Court," Azriel stated again, ignoring Mor, "and she is my mate."

Part Two

A/N: Oof... this was so fun to write!

Main Masterlist

[deepwaterwritingprompts]

Big Deep Water News 🪼🪼🪼

As some of you might know, I write not just two sentence prompts, but full length manuscripts as well. Following beta sourced from the followers of this very blog, I’ve been querying the most recent, titled BORDERLINE, intermittently for about a year.

And, as of this week, I’ve officially signed with a literary agent and am now represented by Stephen Barbara at Inkwell Management.

Prompts will continue as I work on some edits (and my regular job) and dream the manuscript gets picked up and published. If you’re interested, here’s a link to the tag on my personal, and the description below the cut!

I’ll definitely be sharing any news that comes up on this topic. It’s pretty wild but here we are. Stay weird, keep writing, and love always,

- Lilia 💫

Lin O’Leary keeps her eyes closed. That’s how you survive in the town of Florida: small, slightly run down, and sitting right on a rip in reality. Known to locals as ‘the borderline’, all anyone knows for sure is that it ate town darling Momo Kasahara six years ago, and is best left alone. Lin, a high school dropout now working at the world’s weirdest corner store, tries not to dwell on the girl she might have loved if she’d had the chance. No real friends or future, she accepts midnight shifts, saves her pennies, and ignores the faceless entity seeking instant oatmeal. 

When a grown up Momo appears one night like a ghost in the snack aisle, everything changes. Lin is sure that finding her will cure the strange gloom that’s been hanging over her and her town for so long. Remaining twin Bo Kasahara just wants his family whole again, and touring paranormal vlogger Julien True sees his chance to shoot the pilot episode of his dreams. Together the three of them must learn how to cross the borderline, unraveling the terrible secrets of Florida one by one until their rescue mission is successful. Because Momo is not a ghost at all. 

Momo Kasahara is impossible to find and furious about it. Her hometown is an otherworldly shadow, her mind is definitely going, and her only neighbors treat her with eldritch indifference…most of the time. Stuck somewhere just outside of existence, she knows she must save herself soon, before she forgets what it means to be human.

[imsuperhungry]

4 𝙖𝙢

ᴇɴᴛʀʏ 003

(yandere until dawn)

WARNINGS: Yandere Themes, Bad Descriptions

WORD COUNT: 1654

"all the girls are girling!"

(9:12 𝖯𝖬, 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖢𝖠𝖡𝖨𝖭)

After a few more minutes of holding Josh and reassuring him that I would be fine with Mike and Jess, he finally released his grip. His reluctance was clear, but I could sense him slowly letting go. With a heavy sigh, he allowed me to step away from the basement, the lingering weight of his concern still in the air as I moved toward the light outside.

When I reached the main floor of the cabin, I found everyone there except for Emily and Matthew. They were all gathered in their own groups, engaged in conversation, but the absence of the two left a noticeable gap in the group. I glanced around, wondering where they might be.

“Where are Em and Matt?” I asked, glancing around the room. A knot of concern formed in my stomach at the thought that Jess and Emily might have started another argument while I was gone. 

“Emily left her bag at one of the cable stations,” Chris said, stretched out on a vacant couch. “She went back to grab it and took Matt with her.”

I let out a sigh of relief; Emily was okay. Smiling, I turned to Chris and thanked him for the update. As I looked over at Mike and Jess, I noticed they were positioned by the door, clearly ready to leave as soon as I was. Their eagerness to leave was obvious in the way they looked at me.

I turned to everyone else to say my goodbyes, deciding to keep things brief since I’d be back soon. However, as I started to wrap things up, everybody except Jess and Mike began to hug me tightly, as if it might be the last time they’d see me. Their warmth and sincerity caught me off guard, making the moment feel more significant than I had anticipated.

After the long hug, I made my way to the door where Mike and Jess were waiting. As I turned to wave one last time to everyone, I reached for the handle, only to have my hand gently pushed aside. Mike was clearly determined to be a gentleman, insisting on opening the door for us.

With a soft “Sorry,” I stepped out into the snowy chaos, Jess sticking to my side like glue. As we began our walk, an awkward feeling settled in, making me feel like the third wheel on their date. I glanced at them, noticing the easy rapport between Mike and Jess, and I couldn't shake the sense that I was intruding on a moment meant for just the two of them.

I tried to stay quiet the entire way, hoping to give them space to flirt or enjoy each other's company. Instead, Jess took it upon herself to fill in the silence.

“Oh my gosh, _____, I totally forgot to show you!” Jess exclaimed, digging through her coat pocket. “While Mike and I were driving here, we passed this store filled with jewelry, so naturally, we had to check it out.” With a flourish, she held out her hand, revealing two stunning necklaces that sparkled in the dim moonlight.

Each necklace showcased a heart-shaped pendant: one in a soft, warm gold tone and the other in a cool, shiny silver. Both were complemented by fine, slender chains that enhanced their delicate appearance. The heart pendants featured intricately engraved borders, lending a thoughtful and personalized touch that made them even more special.

My mouth dropped open in awe as I continued to admire both necklaces. To say they were beautiful would be an understatement; they were undoubtedly the most stunning necklaces I had ever seen. The craftsmanship and detail captivated me, making it hard to look away.

“And wait, that’s not even the best part!” Jess exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She picked up one of the necklaces and gently opened the heart, revealing that it was actually a locket.

I let out a giggle of delight; the necklaces were such an incredible gift. Overwhelmed with gratitude, I wrapped Jess in a warm hug, momentarily pausing our snowy walk.

I felt Mike tug at my hand and turned to find him staring at me with a playful grin. “Hey, I had to walk her all around the store to buy those,” he said, chuckling. “She dragged me through the aisles for almost an hour, completely dedicated to finding the ‘perfect one,’” he added, emphasizing the last part with exaggerated air quotes.

I understood the hint and opened my arms to embrace him. Jess wrapped her arms around my left side while Mike took my right. They were so close that I could catch the scent of Jess's perfume mingling with Mike's cologne.

Jess smelled of baby powder, with a hint of something sweet underneath. In contrast, Mike carried the scent I expected—woodsy and outdoorsy, evoking the fresh air of the wilderness.

Eventually, I had to let go, eager to resume our trek and find somewhere warm, as the cold was already biting at my skin. The chill in the air served as a reminder that we needed to keep moving, and I was determined to find a cozy refuge soon.

“We need to find a picture to put in these lockets,” Jess said, handing me the gold one with a bright smile. “It would be so cute to carry a little piece of us wherever I go.” As she spoke, she began fastening the silver locket around her neck, her excitement evident. 

I began to follow her lead, trying to fasten the gold locket around my neck, but once again, my hands were gently pushed aside. A larger hand reached in from behind me, softly taking the locket from my grasp.

“Don’t worry, kiddo,” Mike said with a grin i could hear, “Just keep walking.” As we continued to move forward, he expertly fastened the locket around my neck. The cold air made the heavy metal locket chill against my skin, causing me to shiver as it settled on my chest.

After a few more minutes of walking, we finally arrived at the guest cabin, where Mike and Jess had practically been banished to by Josh.

I said my goodbyes at the cabin, but, of course, I was yanked into yet another bone-crushing hug, sandwiched between Mike and Jess. They invited me to stay with them, but I politely declined, aware that Emily—or anyone else in the group—wouldn't be thrilled with that idea. I appreciated their warmth, but I knew it was best to keep the peace among everyone.

As I began my walk back to the main cabin alone, a horrible gut feeling nagged at me, suggesting something was wrong. I couldn't pinpoint the source of my unease, but it was unsettling enough to quicken my pace. The desire for company grew stronger with each step, urging me to reach the warmth of the main cabin as quickly as possible.

I guess you only truly appreciate how cold a snowstorm can be when you're alone; the chill felt even more intense in the solitude. I shoved my hands deep into my pockets and started to bolt toward the cabin, urgency pushing me to move faster than just a walk.

Reaching the cabin in just a few moments, I quickly opened the door and shut it behind me as I stepped inside. The warmth from the fire Josh had lit earlier enveloped me, instantly lifting my spirits and bringing a smile to my face.

The cabin was empty, a clear sign that everyone had gone off to do their own things. I stood there for a moment, basking in the warmth, genuinely feeling better than I had in a long time. But then, I heard the floorboards begin to creak, breaking the silence and making my heart skip a beat.

I froze in fear, silently praying to whatever was above that a stray rabbit had somehow snuck in. Despite my apprehension, I slowly ventured toward the source of the creaking, taking cautious steps with short strides and even shorter breaths. I couldn’t quite understand why I was so scared, but an unsettling feeling gripped me as I approached, heightening my senses and making every sound feel amplified in the quiet cabin.

I scanned the area, finding nothing out of the ordinary. The three couches sat neatly arranged, the low-hanging chandelier, and the fireplace crackled reassuringly—all seemed perfectly normal. Yet, despite the familiar surroundings, a sense of unease lingered in the air, making me second-guess the tranquility of the space.

And then it happened: a loud "BOO!" echoed behind me, and I let out the loudest scream I had in ages. The sound rang out, leaving my throat feeling raw from the sudden burst of terror, and I instinctively slammed my eyes shut, my heart racing.

Then I heard that same familiar, cackling laugh that I recognized from countless similar moments. It was a sound that brought both exasperation and relief, and I realized I should have seen it coming. A mix of annoyance and amusement washed over me as I opened my eyes and turned around, finding Chris hunched over, laughing.

I rolled my eyes and waited for Chris to finish his fit of laughter. I didn’t have the energy to yell at him; the long walk had really taken a toll on me. 

As his laughing died down, he began to sit and look at me, a look of regret, yet still amusement clear on his face. 

“Sorry, sorry!” he said, raising his hands in the air as if to surrender. “It’s just too fun seeing you scream like that. I was actually on the way to find a Ouija board.” A wide grin spread across his face, clearly relishing the moment.

I rolled my eyes once more and plopped down onto one of the couches, lethargy washing over me. My eyes shut as I curled into a ball, hoping to sneak in a quick nap.

I had no idea there were a pair of eyes watching my exchange with Chris, nor did I realize how angry their owner was.

[thephantomsdream]

At times, I want to smooch my own brain because last night I had the most fantastic dream. Start to finish. Hear me out:

Actor!Simon in a B99-like show. Actor!Johnny was his irl friend and the reason he ended as an actor himself, somehow. The director told Johnny of an idea he had about this scary giant that would barely talk, would put off people and intimidate them by just staring at them. It took the Scott 0.1 seconds to call his friend, a mechanic who fixed motorcycles and worked on his specifically, and also fit the description perfectly. (In any way, it all started with Johnny, who didn't understand boundaries at first, and Simon just ??? went with it, letting the man invite himself in his life, but whatever, they were buddies now. Also, Simon agreed because HE KNEW Johnny was a pain in the ass if he really wanted something.)

Soap and Gaz tried really hard in an episode to make someone confess. We're talking hours and hours spent in the interrogation room with no result, until at the very end Price, the Captain, congratulates them for cracking the case. He asks Johnny how he did it, and the man just shrugs. "All instinct, wha cannea say?" Skip to a scene where he drags Simon to the interrogation room, leaves him there with the suspect, locks the door behind them and said suspect immediately starts crying under Simon's cold death-stare.

Cue to you, another member of the cast, just there as a smaller role, appearing from time to time as the sweetheart receptionist. In real life, you applied to the gig because you were in need of some extra money, but did not expect to get it. In any way, it ended up being the best thing ever happening to you.

The whole cast and crew noticed it, the small smiles Simon sent you and how you'd give him pretty eyes all the time. It was all chemistry from the very start, although both of you kept it lowkey.

Anyway, some ideas ran around the writing crew to make the intimidating giant have some interesting interactions with you in the show. Fans went crazy, a battle of whom to ship started, and of course, Johnny and Simon were a ship, let's be real, throughout some others. Yet some fans started to see some patterns between your characters.

Show!Simon would always help you carry paperwork, the same Simon that glared a newbie out of the academy, or made Kyle write an apology letter because he bumped into him by accident and he had to read said apology out loud in front of the whole department. What I try to say is social interaction, going out of his way to help people and just being over-all nice wasn't Simon's deal. Most of the times.

You'd say you're heading home after the boys worked to find a burglar, and he'd casually drop that he'll take you since he's heading that way too. The same Simon that left Johnny stranded because he ate a burger in his old but very cherished Impala and the man left a ketchup streak on the seat, meaning nobody ever was allowed in his car anymore. But... you got offered a ride? Huh?

Show!You would be known for being sweet and always making fantastic food, like your signature cupcakes. Price would say he'd convince you to bake a whole tray for Simon if he did him a favor and of course Simon would agree immediately. A begrudgingly low "Deal" before he stormed out to do said favor.

But... he wasn't really a glutton. We're talking about the Show!Simon that had a one-way feud with a bakery because the owner made a slightly ignorant comment on their public Facebook, and it's been bothering him forever.

Johnny: Ye have Facebook, LT?

Simon: Course I fucking don't.

(Flashback to him opening FB posing as a granny, commenting shit on the bakery's page and the owner responding with "Dorothy, NOT AGAIN! I ALREADY APOLOGIZED! ON LIVE TV!" And then showing Simon snorting in front of the laptop, drinking a beer amused.)

But some attentive fans caught the Easter egg, a message popping up with a picture of a face very similar to yours. Or the interesting braided dark brown leather bracelet he had around his left wrist only seen when he lifted his arm to drink the beer. It had a single round gem on it. Funnily enough, while it looked like any dude-bro bracelet from afar, enough to not many anyone suspicious, he never seemed to take off his after that point. And one very dedicated fan spotted something. The color of the gem. It was very... peculiar...

Color spotted on your wrist too, throughout many episodes, where a pretty bracelet made of suspiciously similar round gems adorned it nicely. Huuuuh...

There were small little comments you both made, too.

The Captain handed you some documents and smiled amused.

Price: You got tan, sunshine. Enjoyed your vacation?

You: I adored Spain. Loved the small town idea, John, it was so relaxing.

+

Johnny: Hey, Lt., any place you'd move to after you retire?

Simon: Somewhere warm. Like Spain.

Johnny: ??? How come?

Simon: Tapas and vino tinto.

Johnny: (amused) Can ye even speak the language?

Simon: (dead-serious) Camarero, dos vinos tintos, gracias. (Waiter, two tinto wine glasses, thank you.)

Johnny: (baffled, stuttering questions)

Kyle: (behind Johnny, also baffled) Did he say "dos"? (Dos meaning two)

In the break room, you made an apple pie for the team and left it in the good care of Kyle and Simon comes in just as you were leaving.

You: Oh, Simon, good to see you!

And you both leave the break room, all while Kyle is seen trying to text and carry the pie, and immediately drops it as Johnny excitedly enters and spooks him. Meanwhile in the backround there's you handing Simon something out of your bag, oblivious to the pie brutality happening.

Show!Simon enters the break room again with a lunchbox and sits by the crime scene, looking down at the pie, then slowly up at a frozen Garrick and MacTavish. He proceeds to eat his food (later confirmed to be a Shepherd's pie) and ignore them as they freak out because Price LOVED apple pies, specially your pies.

Said later being:

Price: And what were you doing while they ruined my—... our pie?

Simon: Was eating.

Price: (visibly annoyed) That so?

Simon: (visibly smug) Had the best bloody Shepherd's pie ever.

Price: Enough. (Insert grumpy old man tantrum while he storms off to his office)

Why do I mention the Shepherd's Pie? Well, a season later, as the boys try to find out something, anything about The Ghost, Simon Riley, they finally have to beg him to tell them literally anything about himself. What they didn't know is that while he answers smugly that he likes Shepherd's Pies, a simple answer after SO MUCH begging, as you finish the series, you understand that Simon Riley gave these two idiots the most important information they needed to know.

In the later episodes, after a horrible beef with another police station with a dude called Graves, Simon and Kyle sit at a bar drinking, when two beautiful girls approach them. Kyle's all over the moon, meanwhile one of the girls tries to flirt with Simon but he immediately shuts down.

Simon: Imma head out, Garrick, need some food in me.

RandomPrettyGirl: How about I take you home and feed you good? Make you a nice roast, handsome.

Simon: Not interested. Got myself the perfect Shepherd's pie at home.

(And he leaves with a nod towards Kyle, leaving the woman stunned, but also Kyle himself. That's when it's speculated he finally understood.)

Price: What did you make there, sunshine? Smells delicious.

You: A pie. (You'd smirk at him as he leans over the counter, interested.) Not for you. This one has meat in it.

Price: Bloody hell, woman, I thought at this point you'd know I'd eat anything you make, even if it were off the floor.

You: Shame. Didn't make any for you. (You'd smile sweetly at him then giggle at seeing him deflate and be sad.) Oh, for the love of— John, go in your office, yours is already on a plate. (John then sprints and locks himself in his office. Indeed it was bloody fucking perfect.)

Or the many times Simon would be seen eating from the same lunch-box, a dark blue one with some intricate drawings on it, meanwhile someone spotted you in an episode sitting at your desk with a matching light blue one, same intricate designs on it too. The fandom was on fucking fire for that.

But what I truly believe is that Simon would just nonchalantly drop that you two are dating.

Anyone: What's your type?

Simon: My girlfriend.

Everyone: ??????

+

After hearing that, everyone (not really) started to speculate who this girlfriend is. It was mostly Johnny but Kyle was also curious, or more likely suspicious. The latter hasn't really caught Ghost with whom he suspected, and wanted confirmation too.

Johnny: (inspecting a crime scene, hopping over a dead body) Okay. Tall, red-head, always wears leather?

Simon: (rolls his eyes while scribbling in his note-book)

Johnny: (mutters butt-hurt how his good friend and Lt wouldn't trust him with the first woman he's ever mentioned)

(2 minute later)

Johnny: Alright! Is it someone I know?

Simon: (silently locking eyes with him, pausing what he does)

Johnny: (screetches) IT IS?! Wait. Is it— Ah, (dramatic pause, looking at the corpse) the wife murdered him.

Simon: Yes. (closes notebook and heads towards the door)

Johnny: Wait! Yes to what?

+

Kyle: (trying to act casual back at the station in front of a board filled with murder pictures and notes) So...

Simon: (ignores him while reading a document)

All he had to do was to say your name once and he got the Ghost looking at him straight into his soul, document in his hand forgotten. And it shows that Gaz had balls because he stared back into his eyes, big difference from the little shit he was at the beginning of series.

(2 minutes later)

RandomPoliceOfficer: Lieutenant Riley, sir? Someone is... asking for... what... is going on?

Cue to camera focusing on Simon and Kyle still having a staring contest.

+

Price: Good job today, boys.

Johnny: Night, Cap'.

Kyle: Evening, sir.

They both leave, bidding their goodbyes.

Simon: (curt nod towards his Captain)

Price: Tell the missus hello from me. (And of course, he has to smile amused at Simon, knowing what the others have been up to.)

Simon: Trying to get her to make you some food?

Price: Wouldn't kill, she's been starving me.

Simon: You're just mad I get to eat all of her food, that's it.

Price: Being cheeky towards your Captain? I could fire you right now, you know?

A rare moment of them chuckling alone before Simon also leaves the station to head home.

That was the begging of the end. Don't get me started with the ending. A whole episode dedicated to you two, one of the last of the whole series before the wrap-up. It all started the previous episode with Johnny getting a brick thrown at his window, startling him and his boyfriend up, only for him to realize the brick had a letter attached to it. After a whole moment of Johnny throwing tantrums in the whole department, in front of the whole team, and after a horrendous goose-chase that makes Johnny believe he has a stalker that has known him for years, sending him in specific crime scenes he's been at before (he's fucking loving it, we all know it), he finally finds an empty storage unit with a chair and a single card sitting on it. A wedding invitation. Simon's and your wedding.

And so it begins the next episode, with a small wedding and I don't even know what sort of minor but funny inconveniences they'd have, the wedding goes on, and both Show!Simon and Show!You kiss under a beautiful tree, just family and close friends there to applaud you.

What the public took some time to find out (as the news came out AFTER the ending) was that the actors, Simon and You, real you, married on that set too! The random props? Actual family and friends, plus the people on set. Only the director knew and was fully on board by then.

Seasons of seeing you two dumb lovebirds, kinda awkward giant introvert that froze anytime you were around and you, a dumbass with a giant crush that was obvious to everyone in your close vicinity, absolutely almost sicken everyone with how cute you were. The whole crushing gave the director the idea, and it solidified as years passed. It was going to be very subtle things (stuff that even Simon and you helped create) and it worked wonderfully. By the ending of the first season, you two were dating in real life, and by the end of the whole show, you surprised everyone after the final "Cut!" of the wedding episode (there's always a wedding episode, huh?) by telling everyone that you two are now officially married!

I hope I made you smile and if you have any other silly ideas about this AU, Imma be reading the comments!

Like Price and Nik being married, and Nik being a firefighter, leading to many jokes about it.

Kate would work as a lawyer or even a judge. ("My wife" expert.)

The station having a fat cat as a pet that lurks around and it once threw Simon's stuff on the floor. He then adopted a retired bomb-sniffing dog and brought her around every so often just to piss off the cat. (He has issues with literally anyone and anything, you CANNOT TELL ME he isn't a petty old man).

Johnny is hella smart but in an ADHD way. Man's a natural with defusing bombs too and I feel he'd carry this show.

Gaz is the puzzle guy, like genuinely smart-ass about it too. Also a true crime watcher. He's at home in a silk robe watching serial killer documentaries.

[misicuwrites]

YOU ARE MY SUNSHINE

Summary: Aleksander always knew his soulmate had to be the fabled Sun Summoner. it was one of the last things he was absolutely certain of... BUT HE DIDN'T CONSIDER THIS

Warnings: single mother!reader, toddler!sun summoner, nonGrisha mother!reader, mentions of brother and father loss, AFAB!reader, no real physical descriptions, nothing else really just stupid tooth rotting fluff with maybe a little hurt/comfort

The squealing seemed to echo down the long hallway and no matter how they may have all tried, servants and Grisha alike had to smile. It wasn't often laughter was heard anywhere in Little Palace and no one giggled quite like their newest little addition. Aleksander had spent so long firm in his knowing that one day he would find his Sun Summoner. Maybe longer believing with body and soul that such a Grisha had to be his soulmate. The one he was destined to love and to love him. His equal. His much awaited balance.

Funny how he could have been so right... AND SO HILARIOUSLY WRONG.

Your son's fits of laughter never stopped making you laugh along, even if it all came from his constant squirming and splashing. It didn't matter to you. Never had honestly. You were just so relieved he was safe and somewhere he could grow and learn and remain safe. Months of traveling to Little Palace constantly changing your names and appearances best you could, hiding from busier borders and towns, avoiding strangers and stealing-- your son's wet hands started patting your cheeks seeing your distraction. Lifting your hands to his you smiled sweetly at his warbled concern,

"Mama where go?" His large eyes were so much like his uncle's and the thought broke your heart and made it hum. Your brother had certainly been killed by the time you reached Little Palace, your father too most likely. Brushing the thin wisps of damp hair from your son's forehead you shook your head subtly.

"No where, my love," you promised him kissing his head as started playing once more. The water remained warm thanks to your son's unique ability and the more he laughed and played, the more golden his pale skin seemed to become. Sitting back from the large tub you let him play aware of a tall unmoving figure just behind you in the doorway. Observing quietly as he always did. You were getting used to that too, his hovering, but it came slowly. "Something you need, General?"

Aleksander blinked when you addressed him; voice thick and warm honey but he still heard that sadness underneath. That inescapable exhaustion that came from over worrying. Figuring he was caught and so there wasn't much use staying put, Aleksander slowly stepped into the wash room still watching the young boy play. The Grisha General frowned curiously, "Is he drowning the lambs?" You smiled amused but didn't reply right away. The boy continued playing somewhere possessed by his game seeming blissfully unaware Aleksander had even joined them. How wonderful, he thought, to be able to shut out the world.

"They're goats, I think," you informed him biting your lip as the man feigned a look of realization. He looked years younger when he wasn't paying his expressions any mind. Allowed his eyes and face to openly express what you were learning he spent most of his time hiding. Controlling. Carefully crafting to the moment and his needs.

"Oh my apologies to the goats--"

"Oh no, he's actually not at all fond of the beasts," you interjected with dramatic harshness, "Devils, really." Aleksander squinted at you suspiciously but the smile was getting harder and harder for him to keep at bay. Your airy little giggle made his heart clench painfully. Something he hadn't felt for far too long. A warmth and comfort sinking into him every time he fell under your smile. Swallowing thickly, he tore his eyes from you with a subtle throat clearing,

"Right of course. Beastly creatures... goats..." Aleksander deadpanned frowning uncertainly at the toddler purposefully holding his goat-shaped toys under the water with the utmost look of concentration. It would have been frightening on any adult but the boy's pudgy cheeks and puckered lips made him ridiculously cute. Joining you at the bath side, the Darkling propped his arms on his spread knees thoughtfully. Although he normally would always be straight-backed and as tall as possible, he found he liked being a bit more comfortable around you. Not wanting to intimidate you or seem overpowering. After all, he knew what you had gone through, and lost, to bring your son to him. "Was his father a goat?" Aleksander teased dryly only breathing when he heard your snorted laughter. As vulgar and crude a joke as it may have been to anyone else you had a wonderful sense of humor and he was learning quickly how much he loved hearing you laugh. Especially when he said something "crass." Eyes alight with your amusement you were quick to smart back,

"No-- an ass." It was Aleksander who choked on a loud laugh that time, nose scrunching as he bit back his grin. You wouldn't ever say things about your son's father in front of your boy but that man had never been interested in either of you.. not until it became known that the little boy with silvery hair and his uncle's bright eyes was actually the Sun Summoner. A mythical Saint before he was old enough to walk.. that caught the attention of all the wrong people including That Man. Aleksander noticed your eyes drift and the light dim in them for a moment but he wasn't sure what to say at first.

"You told me he hadn't been tested," he decided to redirect and you nodded thankful, "he's too young even now. I don't think anyone would have thought to even suggest it.. how did you know?" His dark eyes looked back to you but you were smiling at your son. He was singing then. A little lullaby hid grandfather always rumbled to your belly as well as you and your brother. You could almost hear your father's voice under the little one's. Distractedly, as you thought about Aleksander's question, your hand fell to your flatter stomach even though it was empty and no longer needing protecting.

"I think I always knew," you explained vaguely; considering your words carefully, "I was always warm. Sometimes too warm," you giggled fondly, "I would sleep in the snow some nights just for relief." Aleksander smiled understanding. He never had a child but it made sense to him that any baby able to call on the sun would tend to run a bit warmer than most. He kept watching you, though, captivated by the way you were glowing. The way you were lighting up with a life and glow all your own. No Summoning needed. The way you talked about the little boy had Aleksander's expression softening. Something close to awe and mixed with a sort of jealousy. Of you or your son he wasn't sure. Baghra had never spoke of him with such pride and love. Actually, he often felt like his mother avoided talking about him as much as she did to him. Many of his Grisha were the same. Lost family or were abandoned by them and here you were; risking life and limb for your son-- and it wasn't just you but your family. Your father and brother had stayed behind giving you the time needed to escape. What a love like that must feel like...

"General?" your voice caught him so off guard he wasn't able to stop himself,

"Ale--." Your eyes caught his and his breath caught a moment. How beautiful you looked in that moment. Gaze soft but curious; glossed lightly with concern hearing the apprehension he foolishly thought he could conceal from you. He was lost in you and he had known so the moment he met you-- small as you were shielding your son from four powerful Grisha daring to threaten them if Aleksander did not meet with you. You with your tiny bread knife ready to take the whole of Little Palace to war if needed. That devotion. That unyielding love and shameless need to protect yours? Aleksander had always wanted that. No. He had always wanted to share that. With someone. Someone special. ".. I'd like you to have my name. My-- My real name.. not the one I gave myself." Your brows pinched in slight confusion but he knew you understood the weight of this moment. Knowing something so intimate had your heart hammering in its cage. Stomach fluttering pleasantly as he gave an almost nervous smile. Youthful. Hopeful. Nodding softly and gently taking his hand, you gave the man a smile hearing the stutter in his breath the moment you touched him. A shudder seemed to wrack through him but he caught himself quickly. "My name--," he laughed bashfully looking away. Why did it feel like a proposal? He had said his name before. Baghra scolded him with it just that morning! Sensing his hesitation, you gave his hand a squeeze.

"You can share it if you like," she offered softly, "or keep it safe with you a bit longer. But-- I would carry any name or weight you ask of me. I owe you so much more and-- I want to offer you what I can. I can't really fight," you teased and Aleksander smiled boyishly now able to look at you again, "at least not with guns or swords or-- Shadows," his smile widened and warmed his cheeks to a rosy pink, "but I will fight the way I know how. Behind the scenes.. here," you looked to your place at his side and then to your son now staring at you two with just his eyes over the edge of the tub. Large and in wonder making Aleksander and you both chuckle at the way he thought he was hiding.

"At my side, then?" Aleksander cautioned glancing to your joined hands thoughtfully as you hummed affirmatively. He didn't hesitate again and looked to you waiting for your gazes to meet before he breathed his name, "Aleksander. My name is Aleksander." Your smile would follow Aleksander into every dream and thought he would ever have from that moment until his last and his entire being seemed to quake as you reverently repeated,

"Aleksander." Suddenly the room lit up in a shimmering, swirling glow of golds and blues and iridescent whites as the little boy in the bathtub grinned over the edge. His eyes shone the same brilliant shades as the light he gave off. His joy and happiness with the whole exchange evident as he giggled cheekily. Like he knew something neither adult did. You shook your head at your son as he gave you that impish little grin wiggling further into his bubbles. Turning to Aleksander you caught him staring at you with the warmest brown eyes you had ever seen. No longer pools of bottomless black and unreadable. You smiled at him hand warm and confident as you cradled his in your lap. Without hesitating and your eyes locked with his, you lifted the Darkling's knuckles to your soft lips and kissed them lovingly. Aleksander's heart stopped.

Saints help him.

[potatomountain]

Chapter Five

📍pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective reader

📍word count: 3.5k

📍network: @pirateeznet

📍Warnings: (TBD)

📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 and @daesukiii

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As an apology, and to give you a little break, Hongjoong had sent you out with San to grab food for everyone- yourself included. San changed out of the bloody shirt into a black button up after he let Seonghwa finish bandaging him up. They let you pick the place and you offered the deli down the street you had been going to. San took their orders and walked with you, encouraging you to rant about the others and he listened, giving you his full attention. You had been apprehensive about it at first, but a part of you wanted to lean on him.

He had come to your figurative rescue earlier, knocking on the door and apologizing for them. He managed to coax you out, and when you opened the door he had been sweet, joking about beating up the others on your behalf and that he could get away with it. Plus, you needed an ally, even if it was just partially.

You didn’t understand why San wasn’t hostile to you from the start like the others, why he sought you out to comfort you and why now he was listening so intently… but you liked it. You didn’t trust him of course, but you enjoyed his company none-the-less. Arriving at the deli he gave everyone’s order and looked at you expectantly.

“I still have my food at the office.” You were just thankful for the excuse to come back out.

“It's probably cold by now. Get something. It's on the Captain's card so don't worry about the price.” He smirked, showing off the card between two of his fingers. “Come on, make it hurt.”

Grinning, he did have a point. You ordered more food than you could eat but San encouraged you by saying he could hide the rotting food in one of the other's things. The childish prank idea had you giddy.

The walk back he insisted on carrying all the food and some of the drinks, leaving you with one carrier and your own food. He didn't struggle with it, continued talking as if you two had been working together for awhile. It was almost alarming how easily you got swept up into his charm.

“See I'd bet Jongho would just flip his shit, desk too, if he found a moldy mass just hiding in his back drawer.  Either him or Mingi would have the best reactions.”

“What about Yeosang?” You asked, amused by his descriptions of how each of them would react.

San shrugged. “He keeps himself locked in his work room, it would be hard to sneak it in there. Captain would also be a good idea as his office is usually left a mess but you would have to hide it well enough that Hwa wouldn't find it while cleaning. If he did- well he'd just blame the Captain.”

You tried to picture an argument between the two over a moldy forgotten sandwich, bringing a smile back to your face once more. “Now that sounds even more interesting. And you said Yunho would be the least reactive?”

“Mhmm, not much actually pisses him off. He'd probably just throw it away when he saw it and forget about it in minutes.”

“I see…” He had appeared to be the friendlier of them, or well least angry. Despite his teasing and condescending interactions, he had talked to you the most. “The amount of testosterone between all of you is absolutely infuriating, you know.”

“Yeah- I know. If circumstances were different I wouldn't be surprised if they had a bet going of who would fuck you first.” He chuckled dryly, the building in view.

You made a disgusted face at that. “UGH, men.”

He was still laughing when you two entered through the front. You set your food and drink down first before following San to the back, your now good mood getting more tense with each step.

You wanted to believe things were resolved- wanting to believe there was no more hostility- but they attempted a truce before and that turned into the argument earlier. So as you followed San to the nearest desk and set everything down, you were visibly on edge.

“I'm going to go eat now…” You told San, not bothering to look at anyone else that might be in the room. 

San reached out and grabbed your wrist gently, eyes searching your expression. “You sure you don't want to eat with us?” 

Shaking your head you pulled away. “No thanks, I'm not going to push my luck. I've had enough testosterone today.” With a heavy sigh you turned to head back to your meal- only to run into a chest. “Ou-”

“Sorry, figured you would be more on your toes.” Seonghwa grabbed your forearms to steady you, the hint of a smirk on his lips.

You narrowed your eyes in response. “Forgive me for not being more on edge.”

His expression fell, as did his hands. “That wasn't- it wasn't a jab, I'm sorry.” He looked you over, standing in your way to keep you from leaving. “Captain asked if we could join you to eat? He wants to have a chat.”

Stiffening a bit, you knew it was an order and not a request. “Do I- fine, I'll be at my desk.” You bit off your defensive retort and relented defeat, making your way around him with a heavy sigh.

You were much more mentally exhausted than you had believed, your temples beginning to throb as you made your way back to your desk. You were given a moment to sit down and collect your thoughts before the two of them joined you. Seonghwa stood on the other side of your desk while Hongjoong sat down right next to you- he had dragged a stool back and plopped it down right next to you.

The difference between the two was almost comical: Seonghwa keeping his distance but a watchful eye while Hongjoong saddled up close without a care in the world as he set up his lunch and dug in without a word.

“Make yourself comfortable I guess.” You mumbled, turning to your meal.

Hongjoong let out a pleased hum, cheeks full of food as he gave you both a thumbs up. Seonghwa replied with a scowl. “I guess I’ll do the talking.”

You just shrugged, focusing on your food just as Hongjoong was.

“For starters, we’ll be increasing your access to our files. We’ll be assigning you the Green Vipers which San is the most familiar with. We want you to familiarize yourself with all the information we have available and run it all by San. When he believes you’re ready, we’ll pull you fully on the case.” Seonghwa sipped on his drink, which you believed was some strawberry type if the pink coloring was anything to go by. You were still trying to wrap your head around the news that they were not only giving you access but letting you work a case. “What’s the catch?”

Hongjoong mumbled something with his mouth full of food before he was met with a glare from Seonghwa. He swallowed and then repeated himself. “Yeosang needs to install a security program on your laptop, and this is technically a test. The first time you do something to jeopardize the mission- you’re off of it and stuck at this desk with nothing to do until we can transfer you out.” He chased the food with his drink before turning to you fully. “Do well, and we’ll start you in the field where the real work happens here.”

It was hard to clamp down on the excitement that surged through you, well aware your eyes and posture lit up at the news.

“You're not just yanking my chain? I can stay?” You looked between the two, Hongjoong grinning with amusement while Seonghwa had a frown on his face but nodded. “Thank you!”

“Don't thank us yet, you have a lot to prove.” Seonghwa warned, finally digging into his food. “And we aren't going easy on you.”

“I told you I like the challenge.” You pointed at him, then looked at them each. “I know you have your reasons for not trusting me, a lot of the work you do is secretive and it's years of progress. I don't plan on undoing that, I have an idea of how bad these mafia groups are.” Some of the articles you had found during your solo research had been stomach churning. 

Hongjoong paused in his eating, nodding. “Definitely a firecracker, but I like that.”

“Captain, please don't flirt with the newbie.”

“Why not? Flirting is harmless.”

You rolled your eyes but bit back a smirk. “You're the smallest one here, I'll pass.”

“Oh? Size matters to you? I thought you liked a challenge.”

Now you did smirk. “Really? And you're a challenge?”

“I'm good at all positions, so you tell me.”

“Oh my God you two.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Seonghwa shook his head. “I don't need this, I'm barely holding this unit together as is- can we not chase tail?”

Hongjoong pouted out his pretty lips, batting his lashes at Seonghwa. “Why not? All work and no play makes Captain a dull boy.”

“Talk about an old married couple damn.” You laughed, grinning at the two of them.

The glare they each gave you was identical. “We aren't.”

“Mhmm sure.”

“Back to the point-” Hongjoong started.

“There was no point, drop it.”

“No point yet, don't ruin my fun Hwa.”

“Please-” 

You decided to let the two bicker, watching them as you ate. This was a stark contrast to the Vice-Captain you had met before, a good portion of his icy demeanor had melted with his Captain’s partial approval. Despite his disapproving view of the Captain's current behavior, you believed that his loyalty was unbreakable.

You thought you had that once. With that thought entering your mind, you set your drink down and cleared your throat. “Was there anything else the two of you needed?”

They stopped mid bicker and turned to you, noticing your drop in mood. Seonghwa straightened, back to business. “No, I'll inform Yeosang and San to come over so you can get started on that. You can head home when San says and we'll see you Monday.” Gathering up his things he moved around the desk. “Come on Captain.” Like a mother he started picking up the mess his Captain made.

Hongjoong didn't move though, instead fixing you with an intense stare. “I do have one question actually-”

“I'll see if I can answer it.”

Hongjoong stood when nudged, instead holding up the picture of your old unit Christmas party. “Which one were you dating or sleeping with?”

First you had no idea when he had found the hidden photo as you had been right next to him the whole time. Second, his question filled you with so much fury that you surged to your feet. “The fuck?”

Hongjoong shrugged nonchalantly, setting it down. “Mmm so I was right-”

“No! None of them! They were my friends and colleagues- I didn't do anything with them.”

“Doesn't mean feelings didn't blossom.” As you glared he just grabbed the stool and moved to follow Seonghwa. “I'm not going to judge you for it, how hypocritical of me after I was clearly flirting? Relationships are something the team needs to know about, in or out of the Precinct.”

Your fire lowered to a simmer, taking a deep breath to calm yourself further. “Because they could get compromised?” You had to remember just how dangerous this unit was compared to your old one.

He blinked a few times before nodding, giving a thumbs up. “Yep, that's the reason. If it happens just let us know. Man, woman, multiple- we don't care but we do have to know.” 

“Multiple?” You squeaked out, flabbergasted as he just chuckled.

“Mhmm- we'll send San and Yeosang over, firecracker.” With the change in subject he left, leaving you too stunned to speak.

You didn't like him poking around in your personal life but you hadn't lied. Warily you picked up the picture, eyes scanning the familiar faces and softening on more than one. Multiple? That was something your old unit might have found shameful, one of many reasons your now hurt feelings were never verbalized.

That was in the past now, you just wanted to focus on the now and get through this. Stay a detective, feel like you were making a difference again, and do it right this time.

San came down the hall first, a smile on his face as he took Seonghwa's spot and leaned on the counter. “So I heard the news, you're my temporary partner?”

“Temporary?” You had fixed your desk in that short time and gathered your wits about you. 

He nodded. “Correction, more like you are under my wing. I think you'll do just fine but for starters, give me a run down of what you know.”

That you could do.

“The city is basically split in half by older, traditional Mafia and new gangs-” You started off, pulling your laptop open and looking for your notes. “The southern part of the city has always been smaller gangs, which I think the three big organizations profited off of their turf wars. That was until about a decade ago when things changed and the number of gangs lessened while their power grew. Now there are 3 major ones that, while they don't match the power of the bigger 3, they hold enough power in the city to be a threat.”

“You got all this on your own? Impressive.” He whistled appreciatively, looking over your notes. “And just from looking online?”

You shook your head. “I called in a few favors and asked some colleagues.”

“Alright let me quiz you- what are the names of the big 6?”

“The White Guardians, Red Wolves, and Golden Circle are the big 3; the others are Blue Goblins, Green Vipers, and finally the Black Pirates. They can usually be identified by some color or accessories while more important players get tattoos.” 

As if your early troubles were nonexistent, you were about to throw yourself into a tangent explaining each of them when Yeosang cleared his throat. Clenching your jaw, you just silently handed your laptop over before he asked.

“I can do it here.” Stepping behind the desk and effectively caging you in, he plugged in a flash drive and went right to work. Cornered on all sides, you pressed back into the corner to be further from Yeosang, still stinging from his earlier comments. 

“You were saying?” San urged as if sensing your distress.

Tearing your eyes off of Yeosang you looked back over to San. “The big 6- right. I can give you territorial layout as well as their main operations. It's just a rough outline, since I don't have access to your files yet, but it was the only start I could think of.”

Once more he whistled appreciatively, grinning to the point you could admire his dimples a bit more. “That's still impressive. We gave you a hostile work environment and limited resources and you deduced that much from this desk?”

You could feel the tips of your ears burning but paid no mind to it. “It's really just basic knowledge that any of the members of these gangs would know, you don't need to show praise for something so simple.”

“Mmm true. Well, enlighten me anyways. The White Guardians, what do you know?”

“They're the most secretive of the big 3, only mentioned by other gangs who had dealt with them. Not much is known by them but anytime one of their members or their sub-unit, The Silver Dogs, get in trouble with the law, everything seems to get wiped clean. All that's known for sure is their territory is the northwest where crime levels are low. I would suspect they mostly likely have law-” You stopped yourself, realizing you were just about to divulge too much information.

But San was watching you with intent, motioning for you to continue.

However when you were about to relent, the deep voice next to you reminded you that the two of you weren't alone. “They most likely have the largest amount of dirty law officials, cops, judges and congressmen in their pocket. Right?”

You looked over at him, nodding slowly. “I kept that out of my notes though…”

“I didn't have to read them to know. We assumed the same. They will be the hardest to take down- if we can at all.” He went back to your laptop, messing with some download screen with a quick moving bar under a bunch of code.

Your shoulders slumped at that admission. “If you can't completely eradicate the criminal organizations, what goal do you have?”

“Lessening it. Crime is never going to go away, there will always be people who play by their rules and corrupt others- our job is to prevent as much damage by those groups as possible and diminish what we can.” San's tone was softer than before, as if urging you to have some hope.

You wanted to. “I see-”

“Onto the next one- The Red Wolves.” He prompted.

Clearing your throat you went on another tangent. “The Red Wolves are Northeast along the river. Out of all the organizations they have the dirtiest hands and some of the most ruthless. Crimes of human trafficking, and prostitution rings as well as the most recorded crimes committed by minors and to minors. They have the biggest feud with the White Guardians who, according to some Red Wolves, have been interfering with their work for years now. They are also the only gang that doesn't go through the Black Pirates for access to transportation by water considering they have territory of half the river. What really makes them fierce is their hitman unit the Crimson hounds. Whatever their tactics, it's enough to keep the others from attempting to interfere.”

“Again- I'm really impressed. Now the last one, the Golden Circle.”

“Center city and the oldest of the three. Most likely composed of corporations that use the Golden Circle as their cover for illegal activities. Their main motivator seems to be profit by any means stemming two sub groups: The Pink Boas and Gray Bones. The Boas are a believed-to-be all female group that handles underground brothels and club life in downtown. The Gray Bones are their equivalent of the Hounds, their hitman group. Out of the three mafia families, this is the only one that's been hit by the newer gangs.”

“Oh? Why do you think that?”

“Territory massacre in the west between them and the Blue Goblins. The Goblins won,  gaining access to downtown enough to spread out their drug distribution. They are the most power hungry, even using minors. They have a lot of younger members, runaways and troubled kids from the slums, so they feel as if they have something to prove and nothing to lose.”

Yeosang slams your laptop shut suddenly, spooking you out of your rant that you might have been getting too passionate about. “How do you know?”

“Excuse me?”

“How have you gathered information like that? From this desk?” He was staring you down with his jaw clenched, leaving you perplexed.

You narrowed your eyes in response. “Because I remember quite a few of the names that came up- they were kids I had to arrest, that we had to charge and interrogate and send off to Juvie. So I knew some of them.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “Or did you forget that and just want to assume I'm involved?” The sneer came out from habit but it was too late to take back now. 

Yeosang sighed, pushing the laptop towards you. “I know your file inside and out; you're too impulsive for it. Although you act like that… like you have nothing to lose and everything to prove.”

You lifted a brow, stepping closer. “So what if I do? Do you think it makes me any less of a detective?”

“Of course we don't-”

“I wasn't asking you, San.” You winced as you said it. “Shit I'm-”

“No no it's okay.” San stood up straight, avoiding your eyes. 

“I'm done here so I'll be leaving.” Yeosang said instead, making a hasty retreat and leaving you with a bad taste in your mouth.

Swallowing hard, you leaned on the desk to try and capture his eyes with yours. “San? Are you pouting?”

“No-” He most definitely was. “Okay maybe. I don't know how they can stand it when you snap at them, it wounds me.” He put a hand over his chest, effectively lifting some of the tension.

“It was a reflex, I'm sorry.”

“Hmmm…. Apology accepted. Now, where were we?” He flashed a charming smile that disarmed you and had you scrambling for your train of thought. 

Already Yeosang was forgotten again and so were his words. At least for now.

Taglist (form): @mingsolo | @wowie-hockey | @crispybaguettes | @tiny-apocalypse | @philijack | @lelaleleb | @idfkeddieishot | @isiloiale | @candypop1611 | @vannabanana1995  | @piratequeen-queenofgames | @starstruckforyou | @minheeskitten | @amphiroxx  | @cloudysannie | @fire-and-flame | @sugarnspice630 | @hongjoongswifefr | @sanhwalvr | @plutoneu | @auroreen | @sousydive |  @fatalt | @asteroidshowers | @Bts-army380 |

[profundcherrylady]

SINGLE DAD!SAE ITOSHI.

A/N: Finally writing about Sae's late wife because y'all have been begging me to (y'all: like 3 people). Honestly idk if I'm gonna make more parts of this one so sorry I can't think of anything else at the moment (and I have other themes I wanna write)

Warnings: Mentions of death (kinda explicit but not too much) and SOME angst, bc obviously he's gonna be sad. Lots of grieving (it all works out in the end trust 🙏)

Contents: Sae being a little careless and awkward lol, kid not knowing a single thing about keeping her thoughts to herself, some fluff but this is a weird mix of like three things at the same time including hurt/comfort. Implied fem!reader (usage of femenine pronouns for reader, reader being refered to as 'miss')

Description: After losing his daughter at the supermarket, y/n FINALLY makes and appearance and makes the tag "sae x reader" make sense for once.

At the vegetable section, you struggled to choose between the various options to bring home for dinner. It shouldn't be this hard, since you were all by yourself most of the time, but you couldn't decide what you wanted to eat. It was then when you felt a gentle tug on your coat that made you look down, little teary teal eyes meeting yours and almost making you smile at the adorable sight of this kid staring at you in confusion.

"Hey sweetheart, what's wrong? Where are your parents?" you took notice of the lack of adult supervision this child had, since all the other adults around seemed to be either alone or not in panic of having lost a kid.

The girl opened her mouth to speak but then paused (seemingly reconsidering her words) and then spoke again, "Hi, my name is Mao Itoshi. I can't find my papa right now, can you help me find him or get me to the 'nearesest' 'autohority'?

And your heart almost melted at the way she messed up her little speech (which you assumed was given by her father in case she got lost). And how could you say no to helping this little angel? "Aw, of course honey, let's get you to your dad." you took her small hand in yours, ensuring she wouldn't get lost again, and started walking around in hopes to find her father. She still seemed a little scared and confused but you managed to calmed her down with the assurance of finding her dad. "What does he look like?"

"Um... he's... super tall and super cool-looking." you chuckled at her answer. Of course she wouldn't give you an actual description.

"I mean, what's the color of his hair or his eyes. Does he have eyes like yours?"

"Yeah."

"And what's his name?"

"...Papa?" you laughed again.

"You know your dad's name isn't 'papa', right? He has an actual name."

"He does??? What is it?"

"I don't know." you giggled. "Don't worry, I'm sure we'll know when we find him."

"Mao!!" a short-breathed, panicked voice interrupted your little conversation, and it was then when you spotted Sae for the first time. You weren't particularly interested in football, but even then Sae's reputation as the country's favorite midfielder was hard to ignore. One would think he wouldn't be out in a public space like this, but here he was, a totally different face as what was shown in the media. He looked just like a regular father, relived to have found his child.

"Papa!" the child beamed at the sight of her dad, and she let herself be carried and hugged as soon as he reached her.

"What were you thinking wandering around like that? You're just so- I've told you a million times- You are in so much trouble, young lady, you- What did you think would happen if-" he took a moment to breathe. In moments like this one, gentle parenting was probably one of the hardest things Sae has ever done. He tried his best to not loose his cool and scream at her; that wouldn't solve anything. The important thing was that she was safe and sound. "...You are going to give me a heart attack one of these days. Something bad could've happened to you, you know? I'm just... glad you're okay." and it was then when Sae first took notice of you, standing awkwardly trying to not ruin the little family reunion.

"She helped me get to you, papa." he heard his daughter explain, and it made sense because he knew the little girl would probably still be crying for her dad if no one was there to help. So although he would've liked to avoid the extra social interaction, he figured the least he could do was say thank you.

"Thank you for helping her. I've told her to not wander around, especially in big supermarkets like this, but she just won't listen sometimes..." you chuckled once again, now more from embarrassment than amusement at her antics.

"That's okay. I know how kids can be."

"You got any?" he inquired, and you shook your head with another laugh (which Sae didn't understand because he asked seriously).

"Nah. I mean, they're nice, I'm not saying I wouldn't like any, but I don't have any kids at the moment. Just little siblings; they can be just as difficult."

"You don't have to tell me twice..." he scrunched his nose a little at the thought of Rin as a child, and how difficult he was to handle, which in retrospective made it easy to figure how he got along so well with his niece (lil bro was just as problematic)

"But your kid seems nice. I'm sure she's a good child."

"When she wants to be... but mostly yes, I try to make sure she grows up to be good."

"I'm pretty sure she will."

"Are you single, miss?" Sae turned his head at his child so fast he might've breaked his neck, but he didn't care about that, he was too busy being shocked.

"Mao, don't ask people things like that."

"Why not? She's so nice to me, I like her. And you're single too!"

"That doesn't mean you can ask her if she's single. You need to think before you speak a little more, god..." he turned to you again, "So sorry about her; seems like she hasn't learned social norms yet." (Isn't that his job to teach her? Lol.) "We'll be going now, thanks again." with the still complaining child on his arms, he walked away to his shortly abandoned shopping cart, making sure to NOT set her down this time so he could keep an eye on her.

"Papaaaaa."

"Don't throw a tantrum in here, please... what's going on now? What you did was wrong, you know?" he sighed. "I don't you didn't mean anything bad, but you can't just ask any woman who is nice if she's single and try to set her up with me."

"Why not?"

"It just isn't correct, okay? Why are you insisting so much on this?" she pouted, hiding her face on his shoulder on an attempt to not talk to him. Sae rolled his eyes at the sight as he continued pushing the shopping cart through the aisles, then spoke again. "Come on, tell me."

"I wanna do the mommy-daughter dance at school..."

"Oh..." that made it make sense. "I could do it with you; you don't have to set up strange women with me for a parent-daughter dance."

"It's a mommy-daughter dance! It's not the same... I'm the only one who doesn't have a mom and the teacher says it's okay but I know my classmates are gonna think I'm weird." he hummed, understanding her feelings. Of course, he hadn't gone through anything similar, but he could get how she could feel singled out if she showed up to a mother-daughter dance with her father. He really did wish there was something he could do to make her feel a little better.

"Well, sweetie, there's not much I can do... you know I'm happy to do the dance with you if you want." he felt her lower her voice a little as he got closer to the line infront of the check-out.

"I know..."

"Don't get so sad... you're not going to be left out, I promise. It's the same thing, I mean, what difference does it make? I'm still a parent, and you said your teacher said it was okay."

"She did..." Sae's attempts to cheer up his daughter were failing, so he went straight to the only fool-proof plan he's ever known to always work.

"You want me to buy you ice-cream?"

"Okay..." he smiled a little for her, hoping to coax her to do the same, and once he was close enough to the small ice-cream freezer next to the cash register he opened the lid to take one for the little girl (one he knew for sure that she loved, just to be safe). But as he was taking out his hand he took notice of your presence, again. You looked even more surprised than him, but your expression quickly changed at the sight of the sad child.

"Aw... it's you again." you said, "why the long face, little one?"

"Don't mind her, she's upset about something... rightfully." Sae responded before Mao could. "Can't do anything about it though."

"A mother-daughter dance."

"And... why is that difficult...? Does she not have a...?"

"No."

"Oh... I'm very sorry." he answered you straight to the point. He was used to people asking about his late wife but he never bothered talking about it. It just... still hurt. And it kind of hurt even more knowing he couldn't give his daughter the one thing she yearned for the most, even though everyday he tried his hardest to give her the best life possible. He did everything in his power, he fought and struggled and worked day-to-day to be both a father and a mother somehow but it still wasn't enough. She still missed her mom as much as he did and the thought of replacing that woman was... well, there's just a reason why Sae was out of the dating game after his wife's passing.

And now he was here, teary-eyed child on his arms and a woman he only met once that same day on the supermarket, when the possibly stupidest idea came up to his brain, and he made the stupidest decision of saying it out loud.

"Listen, I know we don't... know each other technically but my daughter seems to think you're nice and... could you go with her to that dance? She just... she doesn't want to feel left out." he was also kind of desperate. Like really, really desperate because if he wasn't he wouldn't be asking this to a supermarket stranger. "You don't have to if you don't want to, but I... can't seem to find a solution to this. She'll settle to go with me if I tell her but she'll be sad and... people won't know you aren't actually her mom. It'll just be one night."

You doubted for a moment, but when you looked at that sad little girl with her big eyes full of tears, how on earth were you supposed to say no?

"Okay, I'll do it. I don't mind."

"And don't get me wrong, okay? I'm not trying to... replace her mother or anything; it's just that one night." he warned, and you nodded. "Thank you."

He tried to be nonchalant about it, however it was hard to deny the strange feelings he had about the situation. He closed himself off after his wife passed away and he promised to not try and find her a replacement, alas not get married again. This was the mother of his only child and the one woman he could say he's ever loved; how could he just throw that away dating someone else after she died like that? It felt wrong, somehow.

When he got married it was "til dead do us apart" so, what now that it did? He couldn't move on, no matter how much he tried. Even when his wife was dead he was struggling to process that he was a widowed man; whatever interaction he had with any woman for some reason still felt like a betrayal of his marriage. Like cheating. He was cheating on his wife who was no longer even alive. His daughter was motherless and he was a little bit of a coward. Many people had told him it was the grieving process and that the feelings would pass with time but they didn't feel like they were. He still teared up a little whenever he remembered that day when the stupid rain caused a stupid car crash that his wife wasn't even involved in yet got unjustly affected from the aftermath of the crash. Or when he got home and remembered he was one person short of a family. Yes, he had a daughter and furthermore a family to come home to, yet he felt... oddly lonely.

Was that normal? Was he allowed to feel lonely? How could he when she still had that child waiting for him at home and looking up to him, making him drawings and giving him hugs whenever she felt sad?

Maybe it was because he spent so much time working, or because his daughter spent a lot of time at her preschool, that it almost felt like it was just him. That he really was lonely.

So, fast-forward to a few months later, imagine his surprise when (before he could even realize it) you were part of his daily routine? It had become so frequent for his daughter to ask for your presence at school events or things like do her hair or just play together for a while that in a very short amount of time he found himself calling you over every weekend, and maybe making a little conversation with you while you were there. Then hours would pass and it would become a little too late for you to go home, so he'd offer you spend the night, and later inquire if you had dinner yet to make sure he had made enough food. The morning would come and with the moon hiding to let the sun rise you'd be gone as well; quick farewells before you rushed back to your own routine and his daughter would inevitably ask how much was left to see you again.

Then he'd chuckle at her impatience, staring at the door you just left through for a brief second.

And he'd say 'soon'.

[fanfictiongirlie]

A Song of Sun and Snow - Chapter Three

Click here for Masterlist

Parings: Robb Stark x Baratheon Reader

Description: You and Robb Stark hated one another. Always had, always will. As the oldest daughter of Robert Baratheon, you had been engaged to Robb for as long as you could remember. He however had always thought of you as a southern bratty princess, and you had thought him as a arrogant jerk. You had reached your 18th name day a few months ago, and in a few weeks you'd be travelling to Winterfell to marry him.

Rating: Explicit (Eventually)

Words: 1,325

P.s: Just something I couldn't get out of my head. No use of Y/N. Only description of 'reader given: the fact that she doesn't look like Joff, Myrcella and Tommen (It's hinted she truly is Robert and Cersei's child) Not much though. Like one line. I wrote this in a different style to my usual style, using 2nd person. Hope it's okay. P.s there will be pregnancy in this, the 'reader' wants to have children. Also the ages are completely different in this fic then they are in the show/book.

You ran back into the castle, rushing to where you knew your family would be. The day room, your father and mother sat together, they didn't look like they were enjoying time together, but your younger siblings looked happy enough. You were red in the face and incredibly flustered. 

Everyone turned to you, they were surprised as your appearance since you had never looked anything but calm and controlled. 

"What happened?" Your father asked you, he slurred his words as he spoke. 

"I hate that man" You huffed pacing the floor "I do not want to marry that Stark boy!"

You family looked at you even more surprised, your mother seemed to be hiding her laughter, wretched woman... Your father looked angry, red in the face, granted he usually looked that way. 

"Why don't you wish to marry him?" Your father asked. 

"He is awful father, can't you find someone else for me to marry?" You begged. 

Your father studied your face, he looked red, angry, and mostly, fed up. This wasn't the first time you had begged to not be wed to Robb Stark, but it had been a long time since you last mentioned it. 

"He is the future Lord of Winterfell, daughter...It's an honourable arrangement between two houses, one I will not be breaking" You father spoke, his voice gruff. You knew there was no arguing, he'd never see it your way. 

"Yes father" You answer quietly. 

 Soon it was time for lunch, you joined your family and the Starks in the dining hall. The whole time you tried your best to not look at Robb. He had decided you looked gorgeous when you were pissed off at him. He spoke to you, trying to get your attention, his voice sounded friendly and innocent as he spoke. 

"You look lovely, princess"

"Thank you, Lord Stark" You answered, keeping to formalities in front of your family. He chuckled softly at your response. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes darting over your body again, he spoke in a low voice again, wanting nobody to hear him as he spoke to you. 

"You still look beautiful even when you're angry at me, princess"

"I'm always angry at you" You answer, causing him to chuckle quietly. 

"You know, I can be pleasant when I want to be. And seeing you like this, all angry, it almost makes me want to mess with you even more, princess"

You sigh unhappily, trying to concentrate on any other than him. You watched your younger siblings, all three of them, watched them eat happily at the table designated for the young ones. You'd miss them the most, even Joff, as horrid as he could be, was still your brother. You hoped little Tommen would remember you. 

"You can't ignore me forever, princess..."

"I can try" You whisper as he breaks you from your thoughts. He chuckled again, sounding low and throaty. His eyes kept roaming over your face, over your body. 

"You might try, princess, but you won't succeed..." He whispers. 

Finally once lunch was over you retreated back to your rooms, you'd be leaving in the morning for Winterfell, most of your belongings had been packed, along with a brand new wardrobe for the cold North. There was only the things left in your room to pack, small things you had collected over the years. 

Robb watched you as you left the room. He saw a golden opportunity and discreetly to follow you. He waited a few moments and travelled through the castle until he found your bedroom door. He knocked on the door. 

You didn't answer, wanting to be left alone, you'd assumed it was a random handmaid. They'd leave you alone soon enough. He knocked again, not hearing any response from inside, he spoke again, his voice firm and commanding. 

"Princess, open the door. I know you're in there" 

"You're not allowed in my rooms" You answer firmly. Robb couldn't help the smirk that came on his face. He moved closer to the door, still talking through the door, his voice was now lower. 

"And who's going to stop me if I decide to come in, princess?" 

"The king?" You answer smugly. 

"He won't be around to stop me, princess. Besides, I only want to come in to have a talk with you" 

"I'd prefer to be left alone" You answer. 

Robb almost growled in annoyance, no matter how pretty he found you, you still annoyed him. It felt normal to be annoyed at you, not these other feelings he had been feeling. But he tried to be nice, rather than tease you. 

"Princess, please...let me in.. I won't be long, I promise" 

"Lord Stark, leave me alone, I shall see you in the morning" You say sternly. He sighs in frustration. You were being so damn stubborn. 

"That's all the way tomorrow...I'd rather speak to you now princess. I promise, I'll be gone before you know it..."

You sigh deeply and open your door slightly. 

"I don't feel comfortable with you in my room, you can talk here" You say as you look up at him, his blue eyes sparkling even in the darkness of the hall. Robb smiled in victory. He tried to lean nonchalantly against the frame of the door. 

"I'm quite happy with that, as long as you're okay with me being right outside your room and anyone can walk by and hear our conversation" He said smugly. 

"What do you need?" You ask, rolling your eyes. He chuckled, he was just thinking about why he really sought you out. But he was distracted, by how gorgeous you looked when you were flustered and annoyed. How much he wanted to get his hands on your body again. He tried to stop himself thinking like that, but the thoughts still remained at the back of his mind. He spoke, trying to sound as calm and controlled as he could. 

"I just wanted to check on you, princess? We're starting our journey back to Winterfell tomorrow, and I wanted to see how you were feeling about it?" 

"Since when do you care about how I feel?" You answer, taken back by his question. You looked up into his eyes, seeing that he was sincere in his words. Robb felt a pang of hurt, he knew he had a habit of teasing you since he enjoyed rilling you up, but it hurt a little to think that you really thought he didn't care about you at all. 

"I care about how you feel, princess. I know you find it hard to believe that, but I do care. I just also like seeing you all annoyed and flustered" 

"You live to torment me" You quip up at him. 

"Can you blame me, princess?" He asks, that stupid smirk over his lips. "You're so cute when you're all worked up"

"If that's all, I'll be closing my door now" 

He had wanted to protest, to tell you to let him in, but he knew it would only cause more of an argument. As much as he wanted to come into your room with you, he had to resist the urge and just look at you instead. His eyes eyes roamed over your body, taking all of you in and imagining what you would look like on your wedding night. Beneath him. 

"Very well princess. Get some sleep, the ride to Winterfell will be rough and tiresome" 

You nodded and shut the door on him, retreating back to your room for the rest of the afternoon and evening until you went to sleep. Robb was left standing in the hallway, slightly annoyed that you had shut the door on him. He looked at the door, imagining you on the other side, and he wanted nothing more than to go through and join you in bed, hold you in his arms all damn night... 

"Gods, you're so infuriating"

Taglist:

@quinquinquincy @whatelsecouldgowrong

[strawberryya]

The art of seduction - part one

pairing: jeong yunho x reader

synopsis: Since she left you, it feels like your life has been turned upside down, and you're struggling to find your footing. He sees that, and he wants to help. Or maybe it's not as pure as that. Perhaps he's just looking for a new plaything — an artist to inspire, or someone to slowly destroy.

word count: 4.5k

genre/cw: angst, smut, suggestive, fantasy, thriller and/or romance, yandere themes, supernatural au, faery au, leanan sídhe!yunho, human!reader, they/them pronounces for reader, I tried my best to keep all descriptions gn as well - I welcome all feedback on this area ofc, grief and death depicted/mentioned, specific smut warnings will be listed in each part.

rating: 18+

a/n: this has been a big project for so many people this year, and I would like to thank all of the inspiring people in this collab for all the fantastic ideas that has been contributed to make all of these fics possible. it has been a journey writing this, but this fic is only the beginning of the even longer journey that yunho and our mc will be going on ;)

this is part one of my first fic for the wonderful collaboration thrill of the hunt, hosted by @cultofdionysusnet - check out the other exciting and thrilling stories on the official master list here!

the second part to this story will be found here once it's posted. if you wish to be tagged in the continuation you can dm me, send an ask, or comment on this post <3

network tagging: @svthub @cultofdionysusnet @k-labels @kvanity-main

“Oh, he’s the most wonderful man I’ve ever met, y/n! He’s perfect… I didn’t think anyone could be so perfect until he came into my life. He makes me feel like I’ll never need anything ever again… like he and I are enough forever. I need you to meet him someday soon! I wanna introduce you to him, I promise you’ll love him too!”

You never got the chance to meet him. The more you think about it, the more you regret not making more of an effort to do so. Your best friend Anna had been in love with someone, and you hadn’t even had the chance to meet the man she spoke so fondly of. 

“I haven’t been feeling very good lately, y/n… I’ve been to the doctors and they say there’s nothing wrong. They said it’s all in my head, that I should go talk to someone… y/n, do you also think I’m making myself sick?” 

She only got weaker after that. 

And he had seemingly fallen off the face of the earth after she became bedridden. 

She said he came to visit, but she wasn’t in her right mind in those final weeks. Nobody had signed in at the reception. Nobody had seen a beautiful man with dark brown hair that gleamed blood-red when the sun shone. During all that time when she was admitted into the psychological ward at the city’s second-largest hospital you and Anna’s mom were the only visitors. 

They said she was mad…

You had wondered a lot about who he might’ve been during those times when she had talked about him as if she had just spoken to him, but nobody had seen anyone in her room. Had he been a fraction of her imagination the entire time? Or had her mind created a lie based on a man who had left her before her illness took over her mind and body? 

When she passed he was the one piece of the puzzle that you couldn’t let go of. If you had tried harder to meet him, would her illness have been caught earlier? Could it have been found and treated before it took her life…?

You’ve been staying late at the studio lately, trying to get through your feelings about losing her through your art. The shadows in the room seem to close in on you at every chance they get, and you don’t fight them. Hugged by the darkness is somehow better than being left so completely alone. 

The brush strokes soothe you like nothing else is able to. Fizzling seas crash along the shore, a looming tree stands barren and alone, and her face appears in the dark clouds. 

The only things you know to be true are that: she is gone, you are in pain, and you can only paint this one single picture. The lonesome tree at the cliff, watching the storms and waves trying to pull the ground away from beneath the large oak tree. You paint it over and over again, day after day, and you haven’t even paid any mind to when other artists have come and gone through the studio. People painted right next to you, people posed on the podium in front of you, and you didn’t care about any of it. All that matters to you is that you have been left all alone. 

Your best friend has died, and you can’t even do the one thing you have been able to do your entire life ー paint. You had pursued your passion fiercely, not budging even as your parents pleaded with you to be reasonable and try “having a career worth having”, and let painting stay as a hobby. It was how you had met Anna. She was a dancer, and she had gotten into the same art college as you. Back then you had both been carefree young adults, simply trying your best to survive on your own for the first time in your lives. Now, she has left you, with the bittersweet taste of the last conversations you had had with her on your tongue. 

“He inspires me you know, I’m just a dancer anymore when he looks at me, I become the air itself.” 

You had smiled and nodded at her nonsense, she seemed to be dreaming of it. Her limbs were too weak to be of use, but she had the same smile on her lips as when she performed. You had tried your best not to be mad at her for only speaking of this man even as she lay dying in a hospital, dreaming of her passion was at least better than dreaming of him. The tears had stung your eyes as you held her hand before leaving her to her rambling. 

It has been a while since her funeral, and you have practically been living at the studio. Home doesn’t make you feel any better, so you sleep on the small pullout couch in the corner instead. It isn’t meant to be slept on and your back is sore from the many nights in a row you have spent on it. But the art studio is at least comforting you more than home. You have too many memories of Anna in your apartment. Here you can focus on your art. At least, that’s the idea. You have had no inspiration since her death. It’s strange, she hadn’t exactly been the reason you painted, but everything that happened still affected even that part of you. 

You had begun questioning if you should give it all up, move home to your parents for a few months, and go back to your waitress job until you had processed all of this. But could you give up on your passion? After years of struggling to pass courses and hustling on the side of your studies just to make it all work? What would Anna say if she knew…?

You aren’t sure how it happened, it might've been a dream. It’s barely been three weeks since Anna’s funeral and you woke up with the clearest picture of a man you had never met in your mind. 

He’s handsome, just like she had told you. He has gentle features, and dark, captivating eyes that catch hold of your mind and refuse to let go. You can’t seem to escape the image of the stranger you know in your bones is the same man Anna had known. 

Sometime after the day you had first seen him in your mind, after hours in front of your easel and a blank canvas, you finally force yourself to pick up the brush. This couldn’t be the end of pursuing the only career you had ever wanted. You need to get over it and paint something, other than that stubborn tree and the punishing sea. His features burn your eyelids, and you see him as you blink and dream of him as you sleep. You can’t escape the visions, so you make him real, tangible. You create a portrait of the man in your head. Watching the finished portrait once you put down the brush. 

You look at it until it gets dark again, staring into his eyes until you fall asleep on the couch in the corner. 

You wake up with a headache. You groan quietly since you neither have the energy nor the will to get up and take something for the throbbing pain stemming from the sides of your head. Before you could even summon the will to get up despite this, you almost jumped off the couch in surprise. There is another person in the room. You’re still in the corner of the room, so the stranger might’ve missed that you were even there, you reason. It looks like a man from behind. His short dark hair lay in a rather messy way against the back of his head. He’s turned away from you, watching the painting you had fallen asleep staring at. He’s tall, his shoulders are broad. You panic, because what did this man want, and why was he here in the middle of the night?

“Who are you?” you ask breathlessly, jumping up from the couch, trying to see if he’s someone you know in the dim light. Could he be another artist here to paint at an odd hour? You don’t recognize him, but you aren’t the best at remembering people, so you’re not sure if you should be screaming or apologizing for your hostile greeting. 

The man didn’t even flinch at the sound of your voice. He didn’t seem like a threat, but then again, something about him creeped you out. You ignore the fact that he also intrigued you, and try to catch his attention again. “Hey, I asked you a question.” In response, he simply raises a hand as if to shush you. 

This man hadn’t just broken into the studio late at night – he was also incredibly rude. The air around him is so still, so calm that it’s giving you chills. You want to see his face. If he was going to murder you, you want to have looked the fucker in the eye so you can, at least, curse his existence. You take a step forward, grabbing a long paintbrush from the drying rack. Maybe you can get his eye if you’re fast enough.

“So aggressive, little dove,” the man finally says. His voice is smooth and deep. It’s an attractive voice, at least your murderer has a nice voice, not that that makes this situation salvageable. You’re still prepared to stab him with the wooden brush in your hand. 

“Wouldn’t you be aggressive if you woke up to a stranger in your bedroom as well?” 

You had tried putting on a brave face, hoping that he wouldn’t notice how scared you were. He seemed to see through this facade easily though, chuckling at your attempt instead of turning around to face you. “Not your bedroom. I’ve been to your bedroom and this isn’t it. Also, not really a stranger, am I?” 

Your breath won’t calm down, and your heart is beating mercilessly in your chest. This man had been in your apartment? And you know him? What the hell is he talking about? “Are you some kind of stalker you fucking creep?” you wheeze out, taking a step away from him. 

You desperately wish for this to be some kind of nightmare. 

When he turns around you’re sure it is because there’s no way the man you see in front of you isn’t just a fiction of your imagination. Dark hair, streaks of red when the light from the window hits it. Perfect lips, and captivating eyes. It’s him. The man in your painting, alive right in front of you. Your grip on the brush tightens, the bristles folding backward from the pressure of your palm. The world began to spin, he wasn’t real, he couldn’t be real. You see the edges of your vision blur and his smile widens at the visible panic you were displaying. 

He was right, he isn’t a stranger. 

“I think you might’ve heard about me, little dove. She used to talk about you ー the talented artist she had met in college.”

It couldn’t be, you hear the blood rushing in your ears like thunder. “Who?” 

He smiled innocently, “Don’t you remember your friend? Anna, I think her name was.” 

No. It couldn’t be true. The brush fell from your hand as you fell to the ground. Your already sleep-deprived mind couldn’t handle the thought that maybe the man Anna had spoken about was real, and right in front of you. Knocking yourself unconscious was the only thing your body could do to stop your heart from giving out. 

Have you gone mad as well? Maybe this was your way of grieving? Should you go to the hospital?

The questions spun in your mind. He was gone when you woke up. But the long brush in your hand and the bruises on your knees and shoulder felt like substantial proof that you had not lost your mind. He had been here, you know it, but who would believe you if you told them? Who would even care?

You decide to let it go, instead, you force yourself to go back to your apartment. A change of clothes was needed and you know that the lady down the hallway will be worried after not having seen you for days yet again. She had been at Anna’s funeral, wondering how and why your roommate had passed so quickly at such a young age. You hadn’t known what to answer. You still didn’t have your own answers as to “how” or “why”. At least, none that you could share…

You had managed to shower and get into some clothes when your neighbor knocked on the door. 

“Hi, Auntie,” you greet her as she had insisted you do ever since you and Anna had first moved in. She’s older than any of your real aunts, but remarking on that had felt incredibly inappropriate, so you had both simply accepted your fate and begun calling her “Auntie”. 

"Darling!" How are you? I haven't seen you here in days! I was beginning to worry. You know, this was just how it was with Anna, I didn’t see her for days and then she would show up saying she had been busy practicing and dating and whatnot!”

You don’t respond, forcing a smile. She meant well, but when she insisted on bringing you some food you wanted to refuse her. She didn’t mind your protests, “Oh, dear child, you don’t even know how sunken your face looks. You need some of my home-cooked food to get your spirits back up!” 

In the end, your refrigerator was filled with casseroles and little boxes of different dishes, and a bitter feeling, knowing you wouldn’t be here to eat it. You left your apartment as swiftly as you had arrived, not wanting to stick around long enough to see the traces of a life lived – a life you didn’t feel belonged to you anymore. You brought what you could carry in your bag back to the studio. 

You fall asleep again, after hours of trying to create something, only creating more pain in your back from sitting on the wooden stool all afternoon instead. It’s not like you hadn’t tried your best to think about anything else besides him, you had actually tried your very best! But in the end, your mind kept wandering back to the dip of his lips, and the grin on his face as you fainted. You painted the outline of his lips, over and over again. 

You hated him. 

Would he come back?

He had mocked you with his words.

Why had you felt such a rush when he spoke?

You never wanted to see his perfect face ever again.

Why couldn’t you stop wishing to see him just one more time? 

You woke from a cool hand on your hair. Slowly and gently he patted your head until you opened your eyes. It was still dark out, and he was back. Leaning over your sleeping body, a large hand caressing the side of your head. You scream, and he smirks. He shushes you, and you push him away angrily. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!” you shout. 

“You wanted to see me again, I thought it best to wake you so your wishes could be fulfilled.” His voice coursed through you, giving you goosebumps again. “Don’t be angry with me, little dove.”

“I don’t want you here.”

“Don’t lie. It’s not polite,” he retorts as soon as the words leave your mouth. 

“I don’t care, I hate you. Leave me alone!” You bark out the words, tears stinging your eyes. You don’t know why you’re reacting so strongly to him. 

His tongue darts out to lick at his lips in annoyance. “Little dove,” he chirps menacingly, “Lie one more time and I won’t help you anymore.”

He terrifies you. He’s beautiful, but nothing about him feels true. He’s like those beautiful flowers forever trapped inside glass orbs. You wanted to protect the frozen beauty from getting the slightest scratch and smash it to pieces, all at once. 

“Help me…?”

The gentle smile on his lips came back when you revealed that he had managed to pique your interest. “Mm, I help people. Artists, especially… it’s an interest of mine, the arts.” He winked at you, which caught you off guard. 

“And you came here to help me?” 

He nodded, but you weren’t convinced. 

“Why? I didn’t ask for any help from you.”

He looked around the room, gaze wandering over the canvasses you had painted in the last couple of weeks, all depicting the shore and the dead tree. All except two. The portrait of him, and the sketches of his lips. 

“You did that?” You ask incredulously. His gaze snaps back to you sharply. 

“Of course. Didn’t it feel different? It felt like you had been inspired by something again, did it not?” His voice is honey in your ears, but the sticky feeling is making you want to flee for your life. You don’t. 

“Want me to prove it?”

You frown, “What do you mean prove it? Are you going to inspire me to paint something on the spot in the middle of the night?”

“Tell me you want it and I’ll make sure you feel inspired for the rest of your miserable human life, little dove.” 

His wording is so unnatural, you think for just a moment. You don’t trust him one bit, but perhaps this is the way to convince yourself that he is indeed just some creep that you need to get away from. You take a deep breath before answering, “I’ll agree if you tell me your name.”

The man stepped back, you had made him flinch. You don’t know why you made that exact demand. Maybe you had just really wanted to call him something other than “the one Anna spoke of” in your mind. It hurt each time you remembered her name.

“A name can be more powerful than you think, little dove,” his tone warned you of something. He seems on edge for the first time since you met him. 

You don’t budge, his reaction only makes you more sure that you need to follow your gut. “Tell me, and you can help me.”

He hesitated before seemingly giving in to some innate need that you didn’t understand yet. “Yunho. That’s one of my names… Use it with care, little dove.”

You turned his name around in your mind, tasting the sweet taste on your tongue as you said it out loud. “Yunho… Sure, help me find inspiration to paint again.”

The same excited and menacing grin he had worn the last time you spoke now grace his lips again, and you feel you have committed a horrible mistake. 

You look around the room, the sun is rising and casting long shadows from the easels placed around the podium. How has the entire night already passed you by? You have no memory of sleeping. You look at your hands, they are covered in paint. Why had you been so messy? You couldn’t remember right away. You know that you have painted. Yunho had kissed your hand, you can still remember the heat of his breath on your skin. Then you had picked up your brush. You hadn’t been frightened by the fact that you weren’t in control of your actions. After the weeks of forcing yourself to do the most basic human functions to stay alive, having something else move your hand in your stead was somehow freeing. 

When you look at the canvas your breath stops. It’s him, you have painted him again. He’s not completely like himself, however, he is just as captivating in the picture as he is in reality. You had managed to capture his beautiful features, from the way his cupid’s bow dips graciously on his lips, to the way his hair gleams blood red when light shines through it. But behind him is something new, something you have never seen belonging to a human before. Wings, almost translucent wings, appearing on the canvas as a shimmer of light blue and white, adorned with shimmering ruby gemstones. He looked magnificent. 

“Pretty,” you hear his voice whisper on your neck before you feel his soft lips press against your skin. You shiver, it feels good but you’re still in shock, watching the man who’s behind you on the canvas in front of you. 

“How is this possible?” you mumble.

“You were inspired,” he responds calmly, brushing your hair away from your face from behind. “Did you enjoy it?”

You have a feeling that the answer to that is yes, but you also know you shouldn’t reveal that. “I don’t remember.”

“I think you did… I know you did.” 

The way he seems to know everything, even the things you don’t, scares you a bit. But you might be addicted to the feeling of his touch, you’re addicted to what he can do to you, addicted to what he makes you feel deep inside. He has given you your passion back, he has helped you paint again, and you had enjoyed it this time. This shouldn’t be possible. Why does this man have so much power over you that he could help you paint as you had used to, for the first time since Anna’s passing? 

There’s no way he’s human, no human looked like he did. In the morning light, he was even more dashing, even more unreal. You want to smash his perfect exterior to pieces and see the flower inside rot as the air hits its delicate petals. 

“Go away. I don’t want this,” you choke out, pushing down the sobs that threaten to escape your throat. He kisses your neck again, but you don’t move. “I think I’ll die if I don’t end this Yunho. Please, just leave me alone.”

“It’s possible, but maybe you’ll be the one who makes it out alive.” His honey voice rang in your ears as the day began and his touch against your back disappeared. You cried yourself to sleep. You knew everything was wrong, Yunho was wrong. But there was nothing you could do about it anymore. 

Two days passed without so much as a glimpse of Yunho. The hours of the night when he didn’t come to see you had almost been enough to convince you that you had truly gone mad. But then, suddenly, there he was, as dashing as ever. Pretty eyes watching you stare at an empty easel. 

A chilling chuckle escaped him, nothing more. He stands and gazes upon your hopeless state for a while in silence. You will never get rid of him, you realize. You’re not upset about it. You can’t be upset. Nothing feels real anymore. 

Yunho circles you, a predator watching his prey. You don’t flinch under his gaze this time. When he leans his lean body against the stool next to yours you feel disgusted. You weren’t upset that he would never leave you alone, but you deserved to know why, at least. 

“What do you want from me?”

“Want?” He sounds almost offended. 

“You’re not here just because it’s fun to sit around and watch me paint all day.”

He didn’t give you an answer, he just smiled at you with that perfectly enchanting smile of his. He’s dangerous, his beauty is dangerous. He leans forward on the stool, his face now scarily close to yours. Will he kiss you…? You can feel Yunho’s breath, hot against your lips, his gaze burning as he stares into your eyes and flickers down to your mouth. Do you want him to kiss you…? 

What do you want from him?

You almost forget that he hasn’t given you an answer when he bends forward, his lips inches away from yours. This time you do flinch. Can he read your mind too? No, your eyes stare right back into his, a flash of maroon tints his irises an unnatural color before it disappears just as fast as it showed up. 

His thumb drags across the side of your cheek, a small smirk plays on Yunho’s deceptive lips. “I’ll make you a promise,” he whispers, “I promise to make sure you’re motivated to do what you love the most, for the rest of your life.”

His breath burns hot against your wet lips. You want to kiss him. “A promise…?” you exhale, mind not quite able to focus on his words, but they sound good to you right now. You swallow, eyes flickering to his perfectly shaped cupid bow, his rosy lips, and the tongue that teases behind his plump lips. “What… what would I have to do…?” 

“A clever dove, I knew you would ask the right questions.”

You didn’t truly understand though, too distracted by Yunho’s eyes mirroring your flickering gaze, teasingly watching the way your hands fiddled with the brush in your hand. 

“All you have to do in return is say that you agree, and I will fulfill all of your wishes.” His soothing hand moves around to the nape of your neck, his grip gentle but secure. 

Will he fulfill them all? 

Does it even matter? Almost anything would be good enough to accept right now, at least you can’t think of something that would be worse than walking through life as the zombie you had been since… Since Anna’s death. If you accept his proposal, will you find out what happened to her? 

“I agree.” 

Your stomach flips when plush lips are pressed against yours. It seems he had already begun living up to his word. At least he wasn’t playing a trick on you when it came to that part. His hands travel over your body, he knows exactly how to touch you the way you like it. Has he been watching you for a long time? Or is it something magical, like those shimmery wings you had imagined he had? You’re not sure, but knowing could wait until later. Right now you have a couple of needs. Needs that Yunho had promised to fulfill. His leg firmly presses open your legs, strong muscle relieving some of the intense pressure that had built up in your lower abdomen since the thought of having him in this way had sprouted in your mind. You need more. You close your eyes even tighter as you let the brush fall from your grip. Hands moving across Yunho’s perfect form without hesitation. 

The sound of the brush hitting the floor didn’t reach your ears. You were already lost to the world of humans. 

“Do you believe in fairies? I do. I think there are things we don’t know in this world. Magical things. If I could go there I would, I think it’s a beautiful place, nothing like Earth. I’d want to dance for them…”

Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕

[nerdieforpedro]

Her smile was worth it

Pero Tovar (modern AU) x plus size female reader (La jefa)

Word Count: 1882

Warnings: DARK FIC, mobs and their enforcers, mentions of general violence and graphic violence, mentions and descriptions of torture, descriptions of injuries, solving problems Tovar style, comfort food and tea

Summary: Pero Tovar only has a few people he chooses to interact with willingly. The bookstore owner is one of them. Someone made a very stupid mistake, Tovar will handle it and still have his tea.

Notes: This was written for @iamasaddie ‘s writing challenge 2.0. My color was Mob Enforcer and the prompt was “Hurt/Comfort” and “Who did this to you?” We're longer than a Drabble again, we dribbled quite a bit. Such is Nerdie.

I may have leaned too hard into the ‘hurt portion’ but we’ll see. 👀

Main Masterlist/ Pero Tovar Masterlist/ Writing Challenges

The only good thing about doing collections, was that most of the time, Pero wasn’t using violence. Just intimidation. The shopkeepers knew why he was here and knew the amount they needed to pay to The Family. It’s been the same amount for the past six months, in was raised temporarily for some needed repairs on the club the Valentino family owned. The actual story was that a few of the younger members had been ordered to torture a few members of a rival family and went overboard. The walls, floors and everything needed to be scrubbed. 

Tovar’s been with the Valentino family for fifteen years and as one of their premier enforcers for the last seven working his way up from errand boy. His height and broad frame discourage crossing him, and even if someone is dumb enough to do so, they find themselves bloodied, battered and with at least one thing broken. 

Today’s last stop for collections was planned and one that Pero normally did by himself. The bookstore owner also functions as the town’s librarian since the town doesn’t have one. It’s a smaller town and to get to a library you must drive two towns over. She normally offers him tea and some type of baked goodies. He wouldn’t admit it, but he’s grown to have a slight sweet tooth. Maybe. Really, he could care less about the sweets, he usually chats up the owner and barrows books. Considering he is collecting money from her, he felt he should pay but she always said no. He got the sense it wasn’t out of fear, she liked knowing his thoughts on different books. At first, he didn’t like the idea of discussing them. The enforcer wasn’t sure if he could really talk about different themes, symbols, characters and the like he often heard people talk about when discussing these books. 

La jefa (the boss) as he often greeted her didn’t judge him on his answers or lack of them. He’d talk the best he could about what he read, even if he didn’t understand it all. She listens and sips her tea, then asks him questions to draw more answers out of him. It fustrated him at first. But he grew to enjoy the bi-weekly sit downs with her. 

The chime of the bell goes off as he opens the door. The sun is at Pero’s back as he enters the bookstore. He comes early in the afternoon around two. She’s not at the counter, though the shop is listed as open. Calling out for her, she doesn’t answer, and he sucks his teeth. It isn’t like her at all. There’s no tea out either. There are no books that appear out of place and making his way behind the counter, nothing appears to be wrong with the register.

The enforcer goes into the back of the shop, he only knew where the bathroom was back here. He was looking for anything that resembled an office, as he walked down the hallway, there was a sniffle. As he kept going, they got louder. Taking a breath while he stood in front of a door that was slightly ajar, he tried to prepare himself. Maybe it was a bad day, maybe she got a papercut or was reading a sad book or something. Tovar instantly knew none of those were the case when he opened the door. 

Sitting behind the desk, her shoulders were slumped, and her hands were covering her face. He saw the scabs on the back of her hands, defensive marks. “Jefa dejame ver. (Boss, let me have a look).” Her sniffles stop for a moment as she shakes her head, turning her body away from him in the swivel chair. His eyes widen at the mark on her neck he spies it when she turns, it looks like it could be from a palm. Moving to her side, Pero places a hand on her shoulder, “I need to see cariño (sweetheart) or just give me a name. Who did this to you?” She finally drops her hands, but she turns her face away.

“I don’t want you to see. The envelope is on the desk Pero. Please.”  It is on the table, and he’ll put it in his jacket shortly - it is why he came here in the first place, but he can’t just leave like this. On top of her being one of a small number of people who he wants to be around, it could get around that the protection money the shops pay isn’t worth a damn because you could get beat in your own shop, and nothing will happen to whoever did it.

“Then tell me a name.” It’s sterner this time, but he’s released her shoulder and instead picked up her hand, his thumb tracing the scabs on her knuckles. She’d tried to fight back at least. She’s biting her lips when she finally looks at him, most of the discoloration is on the left side of her face though there’s a cut on her chin and one on her bottom lip. A large bruise is on her chest across her right clavicle, partly covered by her shirt. Pero’s able to keep his face motionless. “Por favor cariño (please sweetheart).” He doesn’t recognize the name she says, but he kisses her forehead and wraps an arm around her. “Gracias (thank you). I’ll be back princesa (princess).” 

Pero puts the envelope in his jacket pocket and heads out of the office. “Close the shop now and have the tea ready when I come back. Between eight and nine tonight.” He’s going to be quick about dropping the money off and he’s texted one of his associates with the name she gave. Within fifteen minutes, Pero has a picture to go with the name and a location. Marcello talks way too much, but he’s the best Tovar knows at tracking people.

Pero finds this man himself and tells Marcello to tell the higher ups that he needs to demonstrate a lesson in messaging with the family. He’ll need the basement and he’ll keep the clean up to a minimum. It’s not that there wouldn’t be blood. There might be too much blood so the powers at be approve the basement use but ask that Marcello and a second enforcer be there so that the man isn’t killed. There’s only murder when necessary and it wasn’t they viewed in this case. Pero sucked his teeth for the second time today but would make sure the man in question lives. Just not with all functioning limbs. 

After the submission of the money and subsequent torture was complete, the man’s body was bandaged by one of their doctors on the payroll and dropped off at his home, during a time they knew his family would be home with the message, “The Valentino family suffers no fools.” Pero carved it into his back to emphasize the point. He was still alive but would not be the same. Not after, as Tovar saw it, he’s violated one of his favorite places. 

La jefa has long closed her shop and made herself dinner. Now that she thought about it, she’s never made Pero any of her food, just cookies, brownies and the like. Since he said he was coming back, she would make extra. The worst that would happen would be that he would say he didn't want any.  It also dawned on her that she has not made a book recommendation today. She should pick one out before he comes, straightening out her mint green dress. Turning off the stove, she went downstairs to look for a book and saw Pero standing at the door ready to knock. It was a quarter after eight, he was glad he’d taken the extra time to shower. He didn’t want to be late, but he didn’t want to be dirty either. 

“Ah! Mi princesa del librios es bonita (My Princess of books is pretty). You have our tea ready tonight?” His question follows the chime of the bell above the door as she unlocks it and lets him in. She then locks it again and nods.

“I have tea and I made some extra for dinner. I didn’t pick out a book for you yet.” She seems a bit brighter than this afternoon but still trying to make sure she was facing him with her right side. Pero takes her left hand and tugs it a little, not hard, just enough so she faces him fully.

“Hermosa (gorgeous) you don’t have a bad side. Don’t worry about the book. I haven’t finished with the other one yet. I want my tea and I want to see what you made for dinner.” The corners of her mouth curve and finally she smiles, squeezing his hand and leading him up the stairs. Pero watches her walk up and into her living area. It’s cozy as it has books scattered about as well. 

“I don’t know if you like stew, but I made that and heated up some rolls. There’s butter too. I have water, apple juice, coke, and some rum.” The last option surprised him as he didn’t picture her drinking at all. Maybe she had a glass or two when she sat up here before bed. She poured herself a glass of water as Pero pointed to her glass and held up an empty bowel on the table. She filled both and they sat down across from each other. “I hope you enjoy Pero.”

“I don’t doubt that I will cariño.” The food went quickly as they ate, and she asked what other kind of foods he liked. Pero felt he might be getting greedy. Perhaps he’s been gluttonous of her attention each time he comes here. She gives it so willingly. 

Tonight’s tea is mint like her dress which makes Tovar chuckle as he takes up half of her loveseat sitting down. She takes up the other and they sip tea, speaking of past books they’ve read and things he may want to read. 

Even if he got an urgent call, he’ll ignore it because he’s having his tea. Pero Tovar doesn’t feel like an enforcer or a conduit for violence. He just has an arm around one of his favorite people as she places her head on his shoulder. The tough pads of his fingers touch the injured side of her face while he tells her that it’s been taken care of. He won’t tell her details. Tovar figures she can put it together. If he can just have moments like these where he’s just a man with someone he cares for, Pero can use that to sleep. He prays she can rest without crying or being scared. 

The loveseat has his feet hanging off outside of the blanket he found on the back of it. So far, he hasn’t heard her sniffle again. Pero carried her to bed after she fell asleep in his arms. The faint scent of mint mingling with the earthy smell of the books lulls him to sleep. He had blood on his hands again today, but it was fine. It was for her sake, and she hasn’t cried again.

It was worth it.

[littledesertfox]

Do you have any favorite pictures of Rommel?

I do! Actually too many to decide which ones I like best, I think😅 But these are some of my favourites, I tried to kind of sort them into different categories (beware this is gonna be a long post):

Please note that the positive descriptions or "gushing" that may occur in this post refer strictly to his appearance, not his views or actions! I guess that makes sense since we're talking about pictures here, but just wanted to clarify it.

These are some of my favourite portraits of him, especially the first two are some I really like. This is probably just me talking in my own biased opinion, but I genuinely do think that he had a very beautiful face. Like, he looks so soft but still masculine at the same time? And his facial features just compliment each other very well. Somehow I also really like looking at his eyes (which is funny because I'm horrendously bad at that in real life😂), especially the first 3 pictures just have something very tender about them.

Next up, fully body photos! The second one is probably one of my favourite pictures of him ever, I don't know exactly what he's doing but he looks very funny xD But also these pictures always make me think that I can't help myself but find his body shape genuinely aesthetically appealing, and I've been trying to identify why that is. I think I just really like that he doesn't look like the "ideal" of a stereotypically masculine man, while appearing in no way less masculine because of that. Like, he wasn't built very tall or broad (I've read that he was about 1,68m, of course people were just shorter on average back then, but on photos together with others he often still looks rather small), he had a small torso and more slanted shoulders, overall just a more soft and (in my opinion) almost dainty body shape. I feel like the uniforms he typically wore just added to that, for example in the way they accented his hips quite a bit in some photos. Personally, I find this type of man with softer features like him just much more aesthetically attractive than a stereotypical dudebro/"alpha male" (I hate that word so much bruh💀) kind of guy. Plus, it also gives me an odd kind of reassurance in regard to my own gender expression. I could go on about this but I think I'll rather save that for a later post because this already got quite long.

Next a category that is very special to me🫶 Photos together with his chief of staff and best friend Fritz Bayerlein! I'd honestly love to add more of these, but they are sometimes a bit harder to find online. There are quite a few photos of them together in Bayerlein's biography, but I haven't scanned or taken pictures of most of them yet. I hope to post some of them in the future though, maybe also with some background information. I love all of these, but I especially adore how genuine and effortless Erwin's smile look in the second one. From all the things I've read about them, I like to think that he and Fritz really had a deep and trustful bond and cared a lot about each other.

I don't know how many pictures I can still fit into this post, so I'll finish it off with a few more that don't belong to a specific category:

Proud dad Rommel with little Manfred🥺 I feel like this is also a more uncommon photo where he's not wearing his usual uniform.

Young Rommel! I got to be honest, I enjoy pictures of him as a young man and I don't think he looked bad in the slightest, but I still think he's the type of person who gradually just started looking better and better as he got older. I wonder how he'd have turned out though if he got to live longer.

I just think he looks a bit funny with a Stahlhelm on😂 Not quite the way how you're used to seeing him.

I first came across this photo when I was maybe 13 or 14, and ever since I've wondered if it just had to do with the image quality and age, or if Rommel actually shaved his legs😂 Like, they look so smooth. I don't know about you, but if I was leading an army then shaving a legs would pretty much be the last thing I'd think of doing. Maybe he also simply had just very little or very light body hair though, I think it would fit in with the rest of his appearance.

I could go on for longer but I think this post is already long enough so I'll stop for now. At first I thought about making an extra category for family photos as well as for WW1 pictures of him, however I don't have a lot of them saved and was mostly using pictures here that I already had and didn't have to look up first. This was very fun though, I just love looking at all kinds of photos of him. Thanks for the ask <3

[legobiwan]

It's 2024 and I've decided to make a Gravity Falls fic rec list. Because I do what I want, even if I'm showing up to the fandom a decade or so late. All fics are Gen unless otherwise noted, warnings can be found at the end of each description.

Birthday Dinner by Fordtato

A post-series short story featuring our two favorite old men out at sea, this work is wildly in-character in terms of their bickering and sometimes-competitive-to-the-point-of-self-sabatoge sibling relationship, but in the best and most hilarious of ways. Warnings for lighthearted discussion of cannibalism.

i know exactly where my blood is by strawberrybiscuit

There are a number of works that delve into Stan's possible suicidal ideation tendencies, both in his drifter years and post-Portal Incident. I find this to be a wholly conceivable notion, given both the absolute shit hand he was dealt in life and the hints we are given throughout the series that his self-esteem was pretty much in the gutter. Of the stories that explore this theme, I find this one to be one of the most grounded - Stan's borderline dissociation/gallows humor is very in-character, as is Ford's genuine horror when he learns the truth of the situation, which is rightfully emotional without delving into melodrama or transforming into a Saturday afternoon special. Warnings for intense talk of self-harm and suicide.

By Any Other Name by Zeragii 

I, like many of us, am fascinated by the tantalizing tidbits we've been fed as to Stan's decade or so existence as a drifter. We know he's failed at somewhat more legitimate attempts at entrepreneurship (the dodginess of the actual products notwithstanding), we know he was living out of his car for a large majority of those years, we know he's been to prison three times in various countries, and we know something happened in Colombia. All this is to say, Stan's probably made a lot of enemies, and that his map of "States I'm Banned In" is more likely a summary of places in which he has outstanding warrants and/or a price on his head.

What happens when that past catches up to you?

While this isn't an uncommon theme in Gravity Falls fics, what I love about this story is the complexity of the interactions between Stan and Ford here, given this is a post-series fic. Yes, they've mended their relationship, but old patterns die hard. Neither twin ends up as the "damsel in distress" (a worrying recurrence in many GF fics), despite the fact they are thrown into multiple dangerous situations and the OCs/Pines family extension are well-crafted and three-dimensional.

The People That We Always Hoped We Would Be by SharoScylla

A Christmas Carol, but make it Gravity Falls. The section of this story that really sold me was Stan's climatic scene in a bedbug-ridden, hovel of a motel room in New Mexico. Guest appearance made by the infamous Jimmy Snakes, who I learned recently was going to be a real character (and essentially this universe's answer to Ghost Rider) until that whole bit about Stan's past biker life was cut (regrettable). Embracing both the humor and darkness present in the original show, this story sees a Research Era!Ford come face-to-face with his own proverbial demons (real demons not included) as he is visited by a familiar cast of future past. Warnings for suicide attempt.

O Brother by Obsessive_Reader

In progress. A timestuck AU with the Mystery Twins 1.0 being catapulted into the 1980s, a young Ford landing with an increasingly desperate adult Stanley as young Stan tries to navigate the thorny, icy adult his brother Stanford has become. Probably one of the most realistic timestuck AUs out there, as fences are not mended immediately between the adult twins nor with their children counterparts. Also, Fiddleford finally has a chance to shine!

Orpheus Descending by Sir_Thopas

Unfinished. Which is a damn, damn shame, as this is probably one of my favorite Gravity Falls fics of all time. Read it anyway. Yes, you'll swear vociferously at where it leaves off. ResearchEra!Ford goes to incredible lengths to bring his brother back from the dead as Stan's demise is not exactly what it seems. What exactly happens with Stan is incredibly realistic, given his circumstances, and the local color written in by this Georgian native just adds to the Gothic feel of the whole tale. To what lengths would you go to bring your family back? At what point do you cross the point of no return in order to survive? Warnings for graphic description of a decayed corpse and prostitution scene.

Journal #4 by Percival_T_Honeybee

To be honest, this story stops being a Gravity Falls fic a couple of chapters in, instead featuring characters we know and love in increasingly out-of-universe (in all ways imaginable) situations. This doesn't matter, though, as the world- and character-building of this swashbuckling, sci-fi epic are superb and will have you on the edge of your seat until the final chapter. When both Stan and Ford go through the portal, their futures become something they never could have imagined.

Turning by BrandyFromTheBottle

I've mulled over this conceit on more than occasion and truly think it's something that begs further exploration. What if Stanley Pines pulled a Saul Goodman and, after the world was saved, turned himself in, willingly going to trial, and eventually, prison as self-inflicted recompense for his past deeds?

And now for something different...

Entanglement by Haley3

Ford/Bill (to be clear, Triangle Bill. Accept no substitutions). I realize Billford is not everyone's cup of tea and I rarely, rarely post shipping stuff, but in full transparency, I find their relationship fascinating and the idea of their having interactions that may have seeped over the boundary of purely (well, not pure. Ford built a damned shrine and became a one-man cult while Bill was manipulating him the entire time) platonic is not out of the question. In other words, I'm not wholly immune to Billford, but I am rather picky about how they are portrayed.

This fic checks all my boxes. Bill remains a triangle throughout. Bill is unredeemable. Ford and Bill have a relationship whose complexity would rival the equations of the dimensional physics they debate. And, of course, Ford is lying to himself and those around him, deeply, deeply in denial as to the nature and profundity of his emotions towards his tormentor. Warnings for explicit sexual scenes, manipulation, emotional abuse. I mean, it's Bill, we all know what that means.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

It started out with a kiss, how did it ended like this?

Pairing/Au: Young!Joel Miller x f!reader, no outbreak

Rating: +18, NSFW

Summary: You meet Joel at a party, everything is fine, he's beautiful... will it end well?

Warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, the story is set in 2004 but there is no Sarah so Joel is a 24 year old guy (calculated on Game!Joel's age) who went to university and has no child, smut, angst, a lot of kissing, meet cute?, sex in public places, risk of being caught, reader has breasts and vagina, she wears shorts, a tank top, heels and a dress, no other description is given of her except that she smokes (it happens only once in the ff though), fingering (f receiving), dry humping, oral (f and m receiving), p in v (wrap it up irl!), reader is on the pill, cream pie, alcohol consumption, smoking, infidelity, plot twist, dubcon (I’m putting that here because reader is drunk but not so drunk, she gives explicit consent but you know, just to be sure.), brief Tommy appearance (is that a warning? LOL poor Tommy, love him), pussy pronouns, pet names (mostly baby) a lot of swearing, very small age gap but I'm pointing it out anyway, reader is 21 and Joel is 24, some insert of reader’s thoughts, no happy ending (sorry 💀). This story is inspired by something that happened to me personally so please please be particularly gentle with it (you always are tbh, thanks a lot❤️).

The places are places that really exist, they are in Italy but I still tried to leave them neutral so that you can imagine the setting in several places in the world where there is the sea, at least I hope. Where I live it is legal for beach resorts to organize beach parties at certain times established by law, as for music, the songs mentioned are songs that I personally love, I think that more or less everyone knows them, right? Hashtag Millennials music lol

English is not my first language, no beta or proofreading, apologies for any mistake! 🙇🏻‍♀️

Header and dividers by me, sorry if they look like sh*t, I tried my best 🥲

Archive tags: @pedrostories

“Are you a dream or are you real?”

You roll your eyes, while this guy who has approached you and has been dancing next to you for 15 minutes has grabbed you by the waist and whispered these words to you.

Are men really convinced they can seduce with this bullshit?

You turn around thinking you’ll find the usual maniac face who reaches out with shameless hands.

You’re absolutely ready to tell him to go to hell.

Oh.

He’s a tall guy, probably slightly older than you, messy black curls, scruffy beard and mustache and big, gorgeous brown eyes.

Not bad at all.

But it doesn’t mean you can go by your mother’s favorite way of thinking “he’s handsome so he can’t be evil”, it’s fucking stupid and you know it. She used to allow you to ride in your male friend’s car only because he was so hot and wealthy and his family was well known and respected.

If only she had known… but anyway, he belongs to the past, to a group of toxic people you don't hang out with anymore.

Your eyebrow raises and your mouth tug into the most ironic smile you could possibly pull out.

“I’m not Rihanna, you know? So cut off your bullshit”

He’s surprised and he stands there for a second with his mouth open looking dumb.

And then he’s at it again “You’re gorgeous” he whispers in your ear while the music is pumping hard from the disco speakers you are in and he still holds your waist, pushing you towards him “you are the most beautiful girl in this place”

“Yeah, sure” you reply, with a mixture of irritation and pity. He is visibly a little drunk, he moves awkwardly near you trying to appear sensual when in reality he’s as graceful as a brown bear.

You laugh, shaking your head, at least he’s funny.

You lean in close to his ear to make him hear you better “please leave me, I’m with my friends”

Friends who are giggling behind his back giving you the thumbs up.

You look into his alcohol-blurred pleading eyes and damn, this guy definitely knows how to get something. You feel sorry for him, and he’s cute. If he wasn’t so cute you would already left, no point in beating around the bush. You decide to give him a chance, after all it will be a one night stand at most and you’re single, there’s nothing wrong with it.

He has very large hands that wrap around your hips in just the right way and you love hands, it’s one of the first things you notice in a guy. You’re a sucker for a nice beard too and his beard is just the right length to make you want to feel it rub against your skin.

His lips look great too, plumped and perfectly designed, and his nose… big nose. Oh, yes, another box to tick. Big noses are the best.

You put your hands around his neck, you’re reaching him because you’re wearing the highest heels you’ve ever had. His body feels nice against yours, giving you shiver of pleasure down your back.

He towers over you even like this.

Your hips rub together as you dance and his hands end up on your ass. He grabs your cheeks through your skimpy shorts and give them a nice squeeze.

Wow. Audacious. You like this. It looks like this guy knows what he’s doing, horrible opening line aside.

He asks in your ear if you want something to drink and you accept, he takes your hand and escorts you through the crowd to the bar. You appreciate how he made his way through making sure not to lose you.

He leans over the counter to get the bartender's attention and you take the opportunity to take a peek at his butt. Really nice.

You are at a beach resort’s party that you always go to, it was supposed to be held on the beach but the weather didn't allow it so they moved it to this club a few km away.

You know the dj and the bartenders by name but let him make his moves and order drinks, while you nod at your favorite bartender girl and she gives you a wink and her lip reading says "nice catch”.

He looks all proud while he gives you your glass, his big brown eyes are crinkled at the edges along with his lips curved into a grin. He’s so damn cute when he smiles, you tell to yourself.

He takes a sip and he asks you your name and obviously compliments it. “I’m Joel” he tells you in your ear and he reach out to shake your hand.

You smile back profusely and your eyes glare at his biceps hugged perfectly his white t-shirt.

You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket and you let it out, your friends are still in the middle of the dance floor but you get a text on your phone saying “He’s really handsome, go girl! If you need anything call us, ok? Have fun!”

You roll your eyes grinning, everybody apparently approves.

Within minutes you discover that he’s 24, he studies architecture, plays the guitar and he has a little garage band with his friends and then you shout “Oh my god, I love this song!” You grab his arm and drag him back to the center of the dance floor. Joel doesn’t wait to be asked twice. He bounces next to you to the beat of Mr. Brightside as you both sing along at the top of your lungs. Halfway through the second verse when the song says “it was only a kiss” Joel grabs you in his arms and pushes you toward a pillar that lines the dance floor, surprising you. He slams into you and kisses you, deeply, hungrily, knocking out what little air you have left after dancing.

His tongue enters your mouth forcefully, licking greedily. A little rough and his beard and mustache are lightly scratching your skin but you don’t mind. In fact, the rush of adrenaline as he pushed you made your heart speed at an insane race and the way he slammed you against the wall made you instantly wet. You feel your panties sticking as you kiss him back just as frantically. The best kiss you’ve ever had, you have to be honest, he’s really good.

You’re panting in his mouth, moaning as he insistently rub his hips on yours, you can feel his erection pushing against you.

Fuck, who would have expected it from the clumsy boy who tried to hook you up so awkwardly before?

You can taste the rum and cola he ordered on his tongue and a faint hint of cigarette mixed with the smell of clean laundry and something else, animalistic and sexy, probably his slightly sweaty skin.

His hands are roaming at your body, on your neck, over your shoulders, on your back as you arch into him searching for more friction, and then on your ass again giving another really nice squeeze.

It’s not the first time you’ve kissed someone on the dance floor and it probably won’t be the last but no one has ever made you this feral unless you were completely drunk. You can’t blame the alcohol tonight because you only had one drink, it’s him. He makes you dizzy.

“Wanna talk a little bit outside?” you ask him panting when he pulls away from you to catch his breath.

“Yeah, talk” he says mischievously “of course, let’s go talk”

You laugh, releasing yourself from his grip and tugging at his shirt as you move towards the exit.

He follows you immediately, putting his hand on your back as you walk out. Several people are smoking near the entrance, you pass by a couple of girls who are looking Joel up and down.

You turn the corner and find a fairly isolated spot. You can still hear the music, even if it’s muffled.

You're in the back of the place, he sits on a large wooden crate which likely contained alcohol or equipment and pulls you towards him, between his legs. You take his lips back into yours, lightly nibbling his lower lip and filling your hands with his broad back, caressing it, moving up to his neck.

There is nothing you want more than to feel his tongue dance with yours again, you push gently and he lets you in. You start kissing him greedily, just as much as he did before. His giggle vibrates on your lips “hey, weren’t we supposed to talk?” You laugh looking into his chocolate eyes “oh of course, let me explain better” and you kiss him again, enjoying the warmth of his body against yours.

He’s so damn good.

It's not very often that you instantly feel this good around a guy, much less feel as confident as you do now, but the adoring way he looks at you and his big strong arms wrapped around your body are comforting, they make you feel at ease.

The September air is cool and the place is surrounded by pine trees, you would almost be cold if it weren’t for Joel.

His hand moves to the front of your shorts, sliding it over the zipper and pressing into your crotch. You let out a moan.

“Can I?”

“Yes” you breathe, nodding.

You’re craving this.

He undoes the button and slides a hand inside, making room for himself past your underwear, sliding a finger between your folds.

“Soaked wet, huh?” he murmurs “fucking amazing”

His index and middle fingers move over your clit, rubbing and applying pressure as you bury your face in his neck, sinking your teeth into his flesh, gently, and then licking the part as you feel him twitch beneath you.

You whimper “Fuck, please don’t stop”

“I won’t baby, I’m going to make your little pussy screaming for me” He slides his two fingers into your opening while his thumb continues to work rapidly on your bundle of nerves.

He begins to pump into you, relentless and precise, curling into you, hitting your special spot, his fingers are thick and long and dig into you like they always have.

“You’re squeezing my fingers so good, keep going babe, keep going for me”

You’re bucking your hips into his palm, riding on the edge of your pleasure, trying desperately to not completely lose it because you would want that to last longer but you can’t, you’re literally gushing over his hand after a couple of minutes, he’s too good at it.

He lets you work off your orgasm as he holds you close and softly kisses the skin just below your ear.

“God, Joel…” you whisper.

“It’s okay baby, just let it washes over you… and by the way if we weren't out here right now I would have made you come on my tongue”

“Mmmm i would love to try sometimes” you smile softly at him, eyes still faded by your orgasm. And the thing is, you want more. You’re on his neck again, sucking and licking and you whisper on his skin. Things are heating up so much you feel like you have to tell him so you look into his eyes and just spit that out of your mouth “I’m not doing sex with strangers that I just met, I’m sorry”

For a moment, just a moment, losing yourself into his gaze, you think about reconsider your position.

“I swear to God, this damn dude” you think.

You feel your integrity wavering, just a little.

“Well, it’s not a problem, we can do other things” he says.

You raise an eyebrow, looking at him with a smirk “What would you have in mind, let's hear”

He kisses you again, licking into your mouth, holding you close to his body as he moves his hips against yours, he unzips his pants and awkwardly pulls them down with one hand, pulling his cock out of his boxers.

He takes your hand and puts it on top of it “could you uhm… touch it a little, maybe… if you like”

You feel your edges getting smoothed out, he just made you cry out of pleasure with his fingers and the least you can do is do something for him.

“Why not” you answer lasciviously “it can be done”

It’s big, much bigger than you expected, and it's rock hard. You wrap your hand around it and can barely hold it all. This guy also has one of the most beautiful cocks you've ever seen, it’s unbelievable. You run your thumb over the tip, spreading the precum that's already dripping down his length, and begin to stroke him.

You go up and down its shaft, stopping at the tip, lingering over it and you feel him twitching underneath your touch. “Yeah, baby, you’re so good at it” his voice is low and hoarse, his eyes darker than before, almost all pupils as you continue to work on his big fat cock.

Someone told you before that you’re pretty good at it and Joel seems to agree “Fuck, your hand feels amazing” you smirk feeling proud.

“I have an idea…” Joel whispers, “you could… uh fuck… maybe… use it” he stammers, and you look at him confused not understanding what he means “we already talked about this Joel and I have to admit you have a really magnificent cock but I'm not going to put it in”

“No of course…but you can uhm…wait I'll show you” he opens your shorts again and you get nervous

“What?” what is this guy going to do?

He pulls them down just enough to leave you in your underwear but holding them up for you so they don’t end up on the ground.

He gently takes your hand off his cock and takes it himself, holds it straight and brings you closer “you can keep your panties on, I swear nothing will happen that you don't want” and starts rubbing it on you, on your crack covered by the fabric of your underwear.

You whine “oh fuck” you’re seeing the point of it now and it’s unbelievably hot.

“Use it, babe. Use it to play with yourself” You don't wait long to take the lead, you pick it up again and rub it all over yourself to your heart's content, using its length all over you. Like a big dildo, but better, you can feel every vein throbbing, its heat and wetness through the thin fabric.

It’s almost overwhelming, using his hard shaft to get you off, you squirm as you insist on you clit, letting out moans that sound outrageously pornografic. And he’s getting on the edge too, you can feel it under your fingers and in his deep rasping whimpers that rise from the bottom of his throat.

How did you not think of that? It feels like the most satisfying dry humping you’ve ever done, and you’re a master at it. Your pillow and stuffy animals at home can confirm.

Reaching your peak you clench your jaw and try to stifle the sound of your orgasm, but a long slow moan still makes its way out of you.

“I’m almost there,” Joel whispers to you, his face flushed, his eyes glazed over, you sink a hand into his curls and pull away from him to make him come between your fingers.

His whole body is tense, his mouth agape, he squints his eyes, sticky white streams smear your palm and he comes, throwing his head back.

“Fuck, this was…God” he takes you back in his arms, still shaking as his pleasure run through his entire body.

As soon as he regain the ability to speak you hear his tempting voice whispering in your ear “you liked that, huh?”

“I…more than like it, I loved it” and his laugh vibrates on your neck.

One of your hands is wrapped around his neck while the other is suspended in the air with the mess he just made dripping between your fingers.

You shake it a little and lick the rest, slowly sliding your fingers into your mouth one at a time, running your tongue carefully over each one. He looks at you, mesmerized, “Oh shit, if you keep going like this I’m going to get hard again.”

You giggle and shrug “What am I supposed to do? Wet wipes are in my bag that remained inside”

He laugh “Well, You don't have sex with strangers but you're still cheeky, huh? Good, so uhm… My friends will probably be looking for me to go back home but…can I have your number?” He plead and you say yes, obviously yes.

He takes his phone out of his back pocket waving at you and you grab it, after you’ve fixed your fingers and your shorts, typing down your number. “You know I live 3 hours from here unfortunately but we can manage that I think” he says huskily and you nod.

Yes, you think, I can manage that for you.

It was all so good it felt unreal.

And you know something is actually off when he asks you “do you have a boyfriend?”

Why this question? And why now?

Of course not, you don't have a boyfriend otherwise you wouldn't be here.

It seemed more than obvious to you.

“No, I’m single” you reply, starting to feel really stupid.

And you know something unpleasant is about to materialize between you, a big elephant in a china shop.

You move away from him, scrutinizing his face, feeling a lump in your throat as you ask him with a shaking voice, “Why, you?”

“Oh yes, yes I have a girlfriend” he answers you candidly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world after having done those things with you. Maybe he is even convinced that he did not cheat on her because there was no penetration.

“Are you kidding me? Do you think it’s a brilliant idea to tell me now?” You are speechless.

It’s not like you promised each other something so this confession is unwanted, unnecessary and almost cruel because you were here to have fun and now you feel bad.

And there he stands, puppy dog ​​eyes wide open, like the most innocent person. You would love to slap him.

“It's nothing serious” he dares to say “and we have problems, I want to leave her” blablabla, the usual repertoire of excuses that you have heard a thousand times and that have been passed on to any of your friends.

“Yeah, like I’ve never heard it before… Whatever” You hiss.

“But it’s true, baby!” He whines. He fucking whines, trying to grab your arm “Come here”

“No, we’re done” you take steps back while telling him “go back to your girlfriend”

You can't even look him in the eye anymore "don't text me, okay? I can’t do this”

You feel so dumb and frustrated.

It could have ended there and you would have been fine, it would have been a nice memory.

A guy who made you come twice in a row, great. But then he asked for your number so you thought he could have been something more, like a friend with benefits? A date? Maybe even a boyfriend one day? You’re not one to commit with the first guy you meet but things between the two of you were so hot and steamy and maybe in a little space in your brain you got somehow hopeful about him, that he was someone you could trust.

You don't even understand why he told you that now, to make you feel like a bitch? He ruined everything.

“Yeah…ok” he murmur looking at the ground. He seems really sad, but fuck, too bad for him, you don’t give a damn.

You turn and stride back into the club, looking for your friends.

He follows you inside saying at your back “I’m sorry”

Oh no, you think, you’re not.

You find your friends who immediately notice that you are visibly upset “What happened” asks one of them, taking you to a corner. You look at her and say “Guess what?”

Your friend shrugs and lets out a sigh full of disdain “he has a girlfriend?”

“Fuck yes” you cuss.

Your friend hug you “honey, I’m sorry. Let’s go home, come on” You grab your things from behind the DJ booth and walk out of there. You don’t see Joel on the way out and at this point you don’t want to know where he is.

A couple of days later, you’re at the café having a coffee with your friends. It’s afternoon, it’s hot, and you’re sitting at the tables outside, under white big umbrellas, chatting. There’s a beautiful sun and a pleasant breeze, one of your friend is telling you about a very strange dream she had, and you’re all laughing when your phone vibrates on the table.

It's Joel. What a nerve this guy has.

“Fuck” you hiss and your friends immediately get nervous “what’s going on?”

You roll your eyes and reply “it’s Joel”

“Oh my god” your friend says “and what did he write?”

You click on the notification and read “Hi, I’m sorry about Saturday but I promise my girlfriend and I are over. Can I come visit you so we can talk?”

And you think, “Who can guarantee that? Who can tell me that you don’t have a foot in both camps? I don’t like that. I don’t want that”

Your friends tell you the exact same thing, you live in two different cities, you’ll never know if he really left her, this guy wants to play a double game. It’s always like this.

Fuck Joel.

“There’s nothing to talk about, don’t text me again, please”

Forget about him, you tell to yourself.

Yes, he’s handsome and he made you feel good but no guy will make you his lover. You deserve better and the other girl deserves better too. You don’t even know her but you feel sorry for her.

It’s that time of year again, you’re at the beach with your friends at one of your favorite resort’s beach parties.

You move through the hot, dancing crowd to reach the bar while the dj plays Rock & Roll Queen by the Subways.

You order shots of tequila, salt and lemon, take the salt holder and sprinkle some on the back of your hand just under your thumb along with your friends, you carefully take the lemon slice without dropping the salt and hold the glass in the other hand.

You lick the salt, down the shots in one gulp and pop the lemon in your mouth.

The tequila burns your throat but the lemon gives immediate relief and freshness.

It’s good, it’s all good, it’s your number 4 shots and at this point you’re starting to feel pleasantly drunk, your head is spinning a little and the pounding sound of the speakers makes you feel high but you're still fine, having fun as usual.

6 is your limit, after 6 you’re fucked up.Just another one, you think, and then I’ll stop.

You go back to the middle of the dance floor and hear the beginning of Killing in the name of by Rage Against the Machine. There’s something about this song that makes you feel like you can conquer the whole world, it’s inexplicable but it works every time.

You run to the DJ booth where there are two large, heavy wooden boxes on the sides and you climb onto one of them to dance.

It's kind of like a disco cube, but you're on the beach and if you look ahead you see a stretch of sand and the sea. The dance floor during the day is a basketball court.

A friend of yours climbs up with you while the others watch you from below laughing and dancing.

You sing at the top of your lungs as you dance on the cube and smile at your friends. They are always there for you and they are the closest friends you have.

Your girls are great, the best you could ask for.

You turn to the DJ making a heart with your hands laughing when he does it back to you. You never get bored at these parties and it's certainly also thanks to him and his playlists.

You get off the cube at the end of the song and approach the bar with the girls again.

The last shot is rum and it burns even more than tequila. They serve it with a small glass of pear juice on the side.

You dance some more until you tell your friends you're going away for a smoke.

You stand on the side of the dance floor sitting on a wall, feeling really tipsy but not completely drunk.

You love this place, you always did. It’s like a comforting ritual, coming here every friday night, dancing with your friends, having some drinks, sometimes even hooking up.

You can dress like the hell you want, you can avoid painful heels and stuff, no one has a bad thing to say, you can go dance on the sand barefoot, you can leave your stuff behind the DJ booth without fear of someone stealing it.

You really like dancing, it’s liberating and it’s so much fun.

You throw your cigarette on the ground and put it out under your shoe, then throw the butt in the bin near the entrance.

You head towards the bathrooms, greeting a girl you know, and get in line.

A couple next to you is making out and you think you'd like to do the same with someone.

Damn alcohol, it makes you stupid and horny.

You go into the bathroom and pee, wash your hands, fix your hair and go out. You're trying to get back to your friends when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn around and see a guy who reminds you of someone but you're tipsy, your vision feels a little blurry, maybe you're wrong.

“Hey pretty, would you like a drink?”

You know this voice, you've talked to this dude before. And suddenly you recognize him.

Oh shit.

It’s Joel.

You haven't seen him in a year, he hasn't written to you since you rejected him. You had him relegated to the corner of your brain where you never look, the one where you put unpleasant things to move on.

He’s still gorgeous, with slightly longer hair. He looks at you with a puzzled face because you haven’t said a word yet, probably he doesn’t remember you.

“Are you okay?” he asks. And you answer “yes. yes I’m fine. It’s just… My hair was a different color last year but…don’t you recognize me?”

He raises an eyebrow and looks you up and down. “No…and honestly I feel like a real idiot right now, you’re gorgeous”

It's unbelievable. He didn’t recognize you but he just tried to hit up on you again.

You tell him your name and his eyes widen and his mouth agape: “oh fuck. Oh fuck, it’s you”

“Yeah, here we go again”

He scratches the beard on his jaw “oh well… you’re always stunning” he says, and shrugs his shoulders, raising his arms as if to say “it’s not my fault”.

You don’t know whether to feel flattered or insulted. After all, if he tried again even without knowing it was you, you must really be his type.

Or maybe it's just a coincidence, he wanted someone and you just happened to be in his sights at the right time.

“So? Do you still have a girlfriend?” You ask, crossing your arm on your chest.

“Not anymore” he smirk and and you look at him full of suspicion, furrowing your brows “Is it the truth?”

“Yes, it is.” You’re still in doubt, you take a deep breath while he add “I swear!”

You roll your eyes.

You shouldn’t believe him and you know it. But he’s incredibly handsome and he seems to still want you and last year he kissed you in a way…and then you’re half drunk and that doesn’t help.

“So, do you want something to drink?” And you should just say no, I don’t want anything, turn on your heels and go back to your friends. But unexpectedly your mouth decides otherwise. He smiles smugly and you feel your knees weak. His beautiful brown eyes, you don’t even know how to argue with them as you watch him showing off his puppy look.

Damn Joel, and his eyes.

He puts his arm around your waist and leads you to the bar. You feel like you’re floating in a bubble of horniness.

Pathetic.

It’s the second time and you just lose the ability to say no to him. The way his hand grip around your side, so big and warm, the way he smells clean and minty and slightly citrusy, his luscious hair in which you just want to bury your fingers intertwined with his curls, his lips so plumped and soft that make you hungry…he’s too much and you’re too tipsy.

He orders a shot for you and you drink it, you slide it down your throat like it was nothing.

Joel drags you to the dance floor taking you in his arms, his body pressed against yours and his hands on your back, your hips move in sync as if you both had a muscle memory that had been dormant for a whole year and was immediately reawakened as soon as your bodies met again.

“God, baby, I want you so bad” he whispers in your ear, taking your lobe between his teeth and nibbling at it.

You shiver at the sensation, feeling your head empty and you body overflowing with desire.

“Would you like to take a walk on the beach?” He teases and you nod.

You push your way to the crowd and it’s like a deja-vu that hits you and leaves you numb, he holds you close to him as you walk down the wooden plank path lined with umbrellas and sun loungers that leads to the seashore.

You get halfway down the path when he stops and looks you in the eye “I’ve missed this” If you were completely lucid you’d think that was a bit of a stretch considering you’ve only seen each other once but right now you’re blinded and needy and incredibly horny for him.

He kisses you, lacing his lips with yours, insinuating his tongue into your mouth, feverishly searching for yours. He’s ravenous, just like you remembered him.

You both gasp and when you pull away you laugh softly looking at each other. There is indeed an inexplicable chemistry between the two of you, there is no denying it.

“Shall we sit down?” he murmurs and leads you to one of the loungers.

You continue to kiss as if you were drinking from each other's mouths in a desperate attempt to quench your thirst.

His lips are gorgeous, soft as a feather pillow, fiery as hell, they taste deliciously of tequila and strawberry syrup like the shot you just had.

The music and the crowd are far away, everything around is isolated and silent except for the sound of waves in the distance. The sand has crept into your shoes but you don't care. The sea breeze makes you shiver pleasantly in his arms, it’s all so confusing but beautiful. Joel makes you lie down next to him on the lounger.

You feel so good in his arm, all wrapped around you as he explores every inch of your exposed skin, fingertips a little bit calloused, thick just like you remembered.

The sound and the vibration of his groans into your mouth are so addictive and make you wet instantly.

So wet it’s almost embarrassing.

“I want…” he mumbles and you purr “what?”

“I want to eat you out, babe” he says in a breath

“Here?” Your eyes widen and you feel immediately alarmed. “What if someone see us?!”

“There’s not a soul here, they’re all at the party, no one will see us” he reassures you “If you don’t want it though…”

“Oh no, i want it” you nod repeatedly “I want it so bad” you tug at his shirt looking at him in his damn puppy eyes .

“Okay…” you whisper, still unsure but eager at the same time.

The lounger is is reclined, so it allows you to lean up to your back on the backrest, he lies on his stomach at the bottom of it, with his legs dangling out on either side.

He lifts your skirt and stares at your wet panties. “Still soaking wet for me,” he grins.

You should be ashamed of yourself for indulging in with this guy again? Probably, but it’s not like you give a damn right now. You only want to feel his tongue on your cunt. Playing with your clit.

So you smile, you giggle and let yourself sink into this mess.

He lowers on you leaving a kiss on the wet spot on your underwear and suddenly stick out his tongue to lick it. Just a little flick that leaves you needy and hot.

“Are you going to make me beg for it?” You ask impatiently, your arousal deepening your voice.

He laugh and shake his head “Would you like that?” There’s something a little bit too bold about him, a cocky undertone that you’re not bothered to address right now, you’re still yourself though and you’re not one to do so many ceremonies when it comes to sex.

So you reply “Oh shut up, use this tongue of yours to make me scream already”

He smirks and punctuates “Bossy, huh? I love it” and then he lowers over your pussy and licks again at your panties, a long lap this time, grazing lightly at your clit with his teeth. His eyes are still fixed on yours as his tongue moves over his lower lips, savoring the taste of your cunt “so fucking sweet, babe.”

He slides his fingers into the sides of your panties and slowly pulls them down as you lift your hips to help him.

“Fuck, baby, it’s even better than I thought… I can’ stop looking at her”

His fingers run up your thighs, brushing your skin, they get closer to your center without stopping to stare at it “I was right to want to eat you out last time. God, look at her…” and he runs a finger over your folds “perfect..so perfect.”

You can read eagerness and desire in his eyes, and it makes you feel even less inclined to wait, it’s been a while since anyone's done this to you, your toy is very efficient but you reluctantly have to admit that it's not like feeling a man between your thighs.

He finally presses his lips to your clit and you moan, moan loudly and Joel laughs “You horny little thing”

His tongue runs the entire length of your pussy, from bottom to top and stops again on your clit, swirling above it.

“Yes, oh my god YES”

You should try to be quieter but you can't, not when Joel has decided to devour you, opening your folds with two fingers and dipping his tongue inside you, his nose bumping against your clit giving you shocks of pleasure that shake your whole body.

You squirm and you feel his big hand grabbing your hip, holding you in place “be a good girl, let me do my job” he pulls away from you for just a moment and you can barely see him down there but you can feel every single motion so intensely, his scruffy beard deliciously scratching on your skin so clearly, your senses other than sight so incredibly amplified that you almost begin to appreciate being eat out in the dark, you don’t even care about being busted.

You should really stop walking on this dangerous path but the contrast between the fresh air and Joel's warm mouth is driving you crazy, you feel a ringing in your ears, a tingling sensation that envelops you, you want more.

“Mmm baby, I want to drink you all. I want to dig so deep into you you would think that no one will ever make you feel this good again”

There is an underlaying claim in his voice, a need to be praised and recognized, a need to know for sure that he’s doing the best you can ask for so you heap praise on him, burying a hand in his curls, pushing him into your pussy, bucking your hips regardless his large hand digging in your skin, probably leaving bruised that would be your honor badge tomorrow.

“You’re so fucking great, Joel OH. FUCK. Please don’t stop don’t stop dontstop” and your words die a little in your throat as you try to not fall into his rabbit hole, but it’s too late.

You’re there when he makes his way into you with two of his thick fingers, curling them up, reaching for that inner spot that makes you see stars, knuckles deep into you pumping your pleasure up. His lips close on your clit sucking it into his mouth.

His mouth is soft, experienced, licks and sucks on your butterfly wings in purposeful movements, attentive but relentless as a man starved.

You can feel your juice flowing through your folds, dripping on your thighs and Joel’s tongue searching for every drop of it, digging into your hole, flicking on your bud, caressing your outer lip, you feel like he’s everywhere on you and you’re just seconds away from exploding.

“Yeah baby, give it to me, let me see how wild you can be, let me know how gushed you can get”

Your head spins at the sounds of his words and it gets even worse when his hand moves to your breasts over your top and bra searching for your nipple, his fingertips brushing it while he continues to hold his mouth laced with your pussy.

You whine and tug at his hair, calling his name repeatedly like a litany as he circles around your clit again in sync with his fingers filling your hole and you lay down your metaphorical weapons and indulge in a devastating orgasm.

It washes over you like waves of a stormy sea, making you drown completely into that deep part of you that just wants to feel that exquisite filthy hurricane run over you.

He keeps drinking at you until your body calms down and your moans fade away little by little, giving you back the ability to breathe normally.

“Fuck” you gasp “Holy fucking fuck”

Joel laughs “Something tells me you liked it, don’t you?”

He helps you fixing your panties and comes back up next to you and brings his fingers coated in your juice to your lips, smearing it over them “lick them clean, baby, taste how sweet you are”

You welcome his fingers up to the knuckles, wrapping them with your tongue, sucking greedily “such a good girl for me”

When he makes them pop out of your lips, you move closer to him and hide your face in the warmth of his chest while his hand caresses your back.

You're not thinking about anything, not about your friends who will be looking for you nor about how you should have said no to all of this, your head is only full of what he just made you feel.

And you feel the need to return the favor, the burning desire to taste him like you didn't last time.

You move to the bottom of the lounger, sitting on your heels and letting him lean his back against the backrest like you did before.

“Now it’s my turn.” You coo

“Are you sure?”

“I’m 100% sure” you can glimpse a sparkle in his eyes even if it’s dark as you put your hand over the bulge in his denim cargo shorts “someone is going to have a treat tonight, I’m fucking good at it” you murmur as you rub it over the fabric and he gasps at your touch then smirking and saying “yeah? you think you can handle this in your mouth?”

“You bet I can” you reply, your voice playfully offended.

“Then show me how good you are, baby” he order in a hushed tone.

Your fingers play with the button of his shorts, undoing it an instant later and unzipping, putting them down to his knees as he helps you moving his hips hastily.

Your hand is on his bulge again, massaging through the fabric and you see him swallowing and trying to take a long breath and you can see his pearly white teeth in the dark framed by a his mouth tug into a smile. You lower his underwear as well, just enough to pull his cock out, hard and throbbing already. It’s even bigger than you remembered, the most amazing thick, long, straight shaft you’ve ever seen.

His balls are big too, they hang heavy underneath.

It should belong in an erotic museum or something, someone should produce dildos inspired by Joel's cock.

The prominent veins along its length make you salivate and its big, red, swollen tip immediately compels you to lick it, a little kitty lick just to taste his precum that is already dripping from him.

It’s salty and musky as invades your mouth, it makes you even more needy.

He’s silent, just trying not to lose it already you suppose, the anticipation could be cut with a knife right now, it floats in the air like a thick fog between you.

You wrap your lips around his tip, swirling around it with your tongue, and then you go down on him, more and more, taking all you can in your mouth, it’s heavy and hot and intoxicating, you can deny that you’re imagining how good it would be if he also fills your pussy afterwards. Your cunt throb wildly between you legs as it reaches the back of your throat and your nose bumps into his curls.

You feel tears stinging your eyes and you blink them back along with your gag reflex, wrapping your hand at the base and starting working your mouth over his cock a moment after. Your head goes graciously up and down, licking and sucking, focusing on the redden mushroom.

It might be intimidating for someone but not for you, you’re thrilled by the challenge.

He grunts and whines bucking his hips into you hissing “fuck yeah, suck it baby, just like that… you’re doing so good” his voice sounds like it comes from a cave, deep and raspy.

You take it out of your mouth holding it with your hand and go down to lick one of his balls, it’s a little bit too hairy for your liking but you won’t whine about it. You swirl your tongue around it, take it between your lips and suck, feeling him move beneath you. Run your tongue up from the base to the tip, rubbing it with your hand, up and down on his silky skin coated in your saliva.

You pop it out again and you hold it with both of your hands because it’s this long and big and you can rub the entire length this way, he writhes uncontrollably under your touch and you bite your lower lip, you’re loving making him so desperate. You can even hear it in his labored breathing and you can’t resist going down on his tip again, so red and swollen you could swear he’s about to spurt in your face if you’re not fast enough to get out of the way.

His voice is now so broken and distraught that he can pull off only a sequence of “fuck" and “OH MY GOD” and you’re feeling pride rise in your chest. Still fucking good at it, like you said.

You put it in your mouth again, sucking on it like the most amazing lollipop you’ve ever had and little streaks of saliva slip down your chin, pooling at his base.

You’re probably under a spell because no cock has ever felt so tasty in your mouth, you just can’t stop. And you don’t, until you feel him squirting long strings of semen onto the roof of your mouth and down your throat.

His moans fill your ears as his spending is filling your mouth and your clit ache terribly.

You suck him clean and he relaxes between your lips.

“Fuck, you weren't lying.” he whispers and you proudly reply “I told you so”

“Come here, you little slut” and you laugh ‘cause even this slur feels good. Fuck this guy.

You move in his arms again. You hide your face in the crook of his neck inhaling his scent and he says “Just give me a minute, we’re not done yet.”

You look at him, raising an eyebrow “Oh yeah?”

“As long as you let me fuck you” he says simply “it’s your choice, baby” and those words are enough to make you gushing in your panties again.

“Good job, mister, you asked very nicely” you coo and he smiles taking your lips again in a sweet gentle kiss that feels like heaven.

He’s crumbling your beliefs to not have sex with strangers. Well, technically, he’s not a total stranger and you’re never been so horny before.

The two of you kiss for a while until he asks you to straddle him. You pull his shorts down to his ankles so they’re out of the way and you do. You take his cock in your hand and feel it hardening again, his eyes fixed on you.

You smile mischievously at him as you pull your panties aside and begin to move down on him, keeping one hand at the base of his cock.

You're soaked but you still have to proceed slowly, inch by inch his shaft makes his way inside you, he grunts as he feels your walls widen for him, stretching your core.

He's trying hard to let you do it and not move his hips but you can feel his cock throbbing, it burns a little at first but quickly the sensation turns into a pleasant warmth.

“You’re good?” He asks and you instantly reply “Yes, yes, I feel so full”

“Right, so full of me, baby” he says huskily.

You take a deep breath as you begin to move on top of him, your clit rubbing against his bush, his hand squeezes your hip over your dress, his hand squeezes your hip over your dress, accompanying your thrusts “Yes, just like that, baby, keep going” He’s bucking his hips into you, sinking deeper and deeper into your pussy, you’re on the verge of losing your mind and you just lower your dress and bra and reveal your breasts, you grab his arm and put one of his hands on your breast “touch me” you beg him between moans “touch me, please”

“FUCK” he cuss as he grabs your tit and squeezes it, your nipples rubbing against his palm, you continue to ride him and feel your fluids slipping out of you, wetting your thighs and sliding over his skin.

You place your hand on him, moving it in circles with his, seeking more friction and he takes up the invitation, rubbing harder on your bud.

“You feel so good, so fucking good baby” he groans “go ahead, choke my cock”

You whimper, placing your hands on the lounger and leaning your back backwards while you fasten your pace.

He pushes into you relentlessly, you keep moving swinging your hips, you feel him slamming against your cervix just right in this position, again and again in lewd squelching sounds.

“I'm coming, I'm coming Joel,” you stammer.

“I feel it, I feel it baby, come for me, come all over my cock”

Your cunt clench around him, you feel delirious, totally cock drunk, and yet you can't help but place a hand on your clit, jerking it furiously “Oh my God yes- Fuck - yesyesyes” you’re a babbling mess and Joel too, neither of you are thinking anymore about the fact that you are out in the open and someone might see you, you’re loud and frantic and a moment later you’re gushing over his cock, your orgasm dripping all over him.

“Where do you want me?” he asks in a broken voice

“Inside”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes - FUCK - I'm on the pill” It's true, you started this year due to some period problems you had “Fill me up - just - fuck - fill me up, please” you mutter.

A couple more thrusts and he explodes inside you, painting your walls, squeezing your hips tightly, his fingers buried in your flesh.

He keeps thrusting into you until he’s calm and then slips out and takes you in him arm. You abandon your head against his chest, feeling his seed slowly trickling down and it’s a sensation you never experienced before, you’re not used to make guys come inside but Joel it just felt right. You don’t even feel drunk anymore, you’re drunk on him.

“God darling, that was so amazing,” he whispers as he kisses your hair and holds you tight.

And you smile. You smile like an idiot, a totally well pleased idiot though.

And just when you're thinking that nothing could ruin this moment you hear voices approaching from the seashore, you look at Joel with wide eyes and you dress faster than the light and run across the sand to return to the party. Was it someone returning from a night walk? The police? You'll never know. You stop as soon as you reach the end of the walkway, you look at each other and laugh out loud while you feel your heart beating like a drum in your chest.

“Fuck” you hiss under your breath “I hope they didn't see us!”

“Maybe they enjoyed the show” Joel says mischievously.

You are officially sober after the scare, you slap Joel's arm laughing and rolling your eyes "come on, mister exhibitionist, help me find my friends" You take his hand and you make your way towards the DJ console, where luckily you find the girls again. They all open their eyes wide when they see you come back with him but your smile this time tells them a different story.

They don't even ask you where you were and you rush to apologize for leaving without warning.

They look at each other, still suspicious and you can understand why, they love you and don't trust Joel. Joel for his part smiles at everyone and introduces himself, casual and self-confident as if they didn't know what happened last year.

You talk to them for a bit and you think he really knows his stuff because your friends seem a lot less nervous than before, in the meantime you see a boy with dark hair approaching, he has a mustache and a bit of a beard and features that resemble Joel's.

He taps Joel on the arm and exclaims "Hey! Where the fuck were you?"

Joel immediately turns to him and it's clear that he knows him "Hey Tommy! Um... actually, I was with her"

Tommy shifts his gaze to you and his big dark eyes scrutinize you carefully as he shakes your hand "Nice to meet you, Tommy, this idiot's brother"

Oh.

You didn't know he had a brother, he never told you about him. In your new state of sobriety you realize that you haven't talked about a damn thing.

You were so euphoric that you didn't think about it until now.

Tommy is slightly shorter but just as attractive, you smile warmly at him and he smiles back but then turns back to Joel “me and the others are going home, are you coming?”.

Joel sadly replies “yeah, sure, just give me a minute”.

He takes your hand and you move away from them a little, you look into his eyes and think that maybe you could think of getting lost in that look, despite your lack of faith in relationships and especially in men.

“I have to go” he says squeezing both your hands in his “do you think I can use your number this time?” He has such a sweet look that you can only say “yes, sure” and you kiss him again, feeling like you’re in one of those stupid romantic comedies.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Joel whispers when you break the kiss.

He smiles with his whole face, eyes crinkled at the edges and lips curved into a smirk. He’s so damn beautiful.

You walk back to Tommy and your friends and Joel says “we can go” turning back to you and smiling at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. You feel your knees buckle and a tiny twinge in the corner of your heart at the thought that he lives 3 hours away and you don’t know when you’ll see him again. It doesn’t matter, you think, it’s worth it.

You and your friends grab your stuff behind the DJ booth, say goodbye, and head out to the parking lot. You know they're all waiting until you get to the car to pepper you with questions and giggles.

You feel like you're walking on a cloud.

The parking lot is pretty big and dark at this hour, you hear voices coming from some cars to the left and at first you don’t pay attention, then you clearly hear “Holy shit Joel!” and you stop.

It’s Tommy’s voice and from his tone he doesn’t seem happy.

You stay still without making any noise, hoping that the darkness will come to your aid.

“What do you plan on telling Tess when that girl calls you? Are you going to keep this a secret from her? Are you going to leave her?”

Your heart freezes.

No, not again.

“She’s been your girlfriend for three years, for Christ’s sake.”

You don’t hear Joel’s response, just Tommy screaming.

And you don’t care, he still has a girlfriend. Joel still has a girlfriend, even though he swore he’d dumped her.

You don't need to know anything else. You take your phone out of your bag, scroll through your contacts and block his number.

Your unaware friends have already reached the car and are putting their bags in the back seat. You reach them before they can call you out loud and slide into the back seat next to the bags, while they argue about who should sit in front you close your eyes and pretend to be asleep.

You don't have the strength to admit that you were wrong, you don't have the strength to see them sad for you.

Sometimes life doesn't go the way we want it to, you'll swallow this morsel too in the end. It's just more bitter than you expected.

You're not shaking, it's just a little bit of you that's gone.

[spacebaby1]

enemies to lovers with Ran Haitani tenjiku

Where the reader is the typical delegate or group representative who seems to be the description of perfection, excellent grades and an attitude that teachers love but this is only a facade that hides a truly rebellious and disastrous girl. Ran meets her and after totally frustrating her they begin to realize that only they truly know each other for who they really are and not just appearances.

Ohhh, I like this! Enjoy! (DON'T TRY THIS AT HOMR OR ANYWHERE) T.W: controlling parents?

Be perfect...

Be perfect...

Be perfect...

The words that You remind yourself every morning as you'd get ready for the school, eat breakfast, and get to school. As if not just last night your parents were screaming and yelling at you for randomly cutting most if your hair, you mother said that she hated your hair and you father kept yelling about how disappointed he was that you are trying to rebel against his rules. Your mother wasted no time into dragging you to the beauty salon to get long extensions, and you just sat there boiling in anger.

When you got home, your father had made a deal with you, "You follow my rules, you will go to that school tomorrow, and you will be the best of the students, unlike the last school. And if you do that till you graduate, then you can do whatever you want with your life, but till then, you have to be a perfect child of mine."

First day at school; you made sure to look as neat as you can and sat in the front seat. And for the next semester you won every teachers respect; it was a nightmare that you had to pretend to be a nice, soft spoken, and always smiling student when deep down your hands ache to slap some of the boys or pull the other annoying girls hair.

What you did after school was none of your parents' business; as long as they don't find out. With your baseball bat in hand, you walked in the dark alleyway and cigarettes dangling from your lips. You sighed, taking a puff before aiming the bat on the brick wall, and kept pushing your anger out of the wall. The pain of bat bouncing as it hit the wall felt euphoric in your hands, but you didn't stop and kept slamming the bat again and again. "What's the walls crime?"

You turned to find a boy; was a bit taller and had half black and yellow hair. He had a soft, lazy smile on as you tried to make out his features more in the dark. He, on the other hand, wasn't able to fully notice your face because of your hat covering your face, "Mind your own business." Was all you said before walking past him as he just stood there looking at you disappear in the busy streets.

The next day was boring in school as always until you heard your classmate girl tap your shoulder, "someone from the other class is asking for the teachers papers. he's just outside the door." You nodded before gathering the papers and headed towards the door. You gasped slightly when you noticed the boy standing there was the same boy from last night. He turned to look at you and smiled, "Haitani Ran, from class 5. The teacher said, You have the papers?" You thought he probably didn't recognise you, so you nodded and handed him the papers rushing back inside the class. And for the next month you kept running into Ran between classes and breaks, he seemed very sweet and never get angry at any of the students and would just laugh it off If someone said something that should upset him.

One night you were in the living-room when your father came home angry immediately lashing his anger at you and calling you names because you forgot to put your wet umbrella away from the entrance and you being yourself lost your temper lashing at your father which made him raise his hand on you, you fell on the ground holding your lips before yelling curs words at him before storming out of the house, and could still hear your mothers calling for you to stop but you just needed to leave.

You've done everything they had asked you, and yet it was still not enough, which made you wanna piss them off. At this point, you didn't even care if you cased trouble and got caught because you wanted to get caught.

The rain had soaked you fully as you kept throwing punching after punching on the bridge wall because you've made the mistake to not grab your bat and beat those bully's you'll find at the park right now. "Do you punch for a hobby?" You turned to find Ran standing under the umbrella with the same soft smile then you realised that he saw you now, the real you; hair in messed bun, red eyes, dressed not so neat and soaking in the rain. You weren't the perfect student he saw every day at school. "You'll hurt your hand and catch cold -"

"Piss of nerd,"

He laughed, moving closer, "I'm as much of a nerd as you. Must be tiring to pretend to be that neat." You don't know why, but his words made you tear up from where you stood, and he just moved his umbrella over your head, "your hairs soaked." You shook your head, "I fucking hate these extensions!" You yelled ready to pull on them but Ran grabbed your wrist. "You'll yank your head off, want me to take them off? I'm good with hair. See?" He pointed at his long perfect hair which made you laugh. "What do you say, wanna key some cars before we get those extensions off?" You laughed and he joined you. You did exactly that.