#but thinking of the answer gave me Thoughts and Feelings

[rafecameronssl4t]

73 Questions with Vogue || Drew Starkey x fem!reader

Summary: Actress!reader participating in 73 Questions with Vogue and it goes viral!!!

Warnings: fluff!!!

Word count: 1,935

A/n: It's been so long since I've written a Drew fic!!!!!!! Also I got inspired by my previous acc's fic so if it seems familiar to some of you who followed me from there, don't come at me, I loved the idea too much lol. CAN SOMEONE PLS SEND ME REQUESTS FOR DREW FICS???

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

"Hello!" You greet the interviewer with a bright smile, swinging open the door to reveal him and his camera. "Hi, Y/n! Mind if we come in and ask you 73 questions?" he asks, his tone friendly and warm. "Yeah, of course! Come on in," you say, stepping aside and holding the door wide open, gesturing for them to enter as the camera pans through the foyer of your house. The space is beautifully designed, with soft lighting that gives it a cozy, inviting atmosphere.

"Wow, what a gorgeous house you have," the interviewer remarks, his voice filled with genuine awe as his eyes take in the sophisticated yet comfortable d��cor. "Thank you!" you respond, the compliment warming you as you flash a radiant smile. "Is this your favourite house?" The interviewer asks, already settling into the rhythm of the questions as you lead them down the hallway and into the open-plan living area.

"Yes, it definitely is. It's in my home city, and Charleston means so much to me, just like this house does," you say, your eyes lighting up as you gesture around. The view of the beach through the large windows makes the space feel even more special. "I love the view," the interviewer comments, looking out at the sunset that bathes the room in warm golden light. "The sunset looks amazing from here."

"It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?" you say with a soft chuckle. "I love spending time in this room specifically. It feels like a little sanctuary." You both share a laugh, enjoying the peaceful moment. "What's your morning routine like?" The interviewer asks as the camera follows you through the coastal-themed living room toward the kitchen. You pause for a moment, thinking about your answer.

"I haven't had much of a routine the past few months because of work, but currently, I wake up to a strong cup of coffee and a walk through downtown," you share with a soft smile. "It’s become a little ritual to clear my mind before everything gets too busy." As you stroll through the warm, inviting spaces of your home, the camera captures the personal touches that reflect your personality—a mix of elegance and laid-back comfort.

A question about your career comes next, and you happily share some behind-the-scenes anecdotes from your latest film. "This," you begin, the affection in your tone unmistakable, "is a magnet Sydney gave me when we wrapped filming Immaculate earlier this year." You glance at the picture, a grin spreading across your face. "It’s a photo of the two of us in our nun costumes... let’s just say, not doing very nun-like things." You laugh, the absurdity of the memory still fresh, and hold the magnet up for the camera to focus.

The image shows the two of you mid-laughter, each holding a cigarette with exaggerated defiance, your habits slightly askew, as though caught mid-rebellion. "What's the best compliment you've received?" the interviewer asks, a hint of curiosity in their voice. You pause, your expression thoughtful. "Oh, that's a tough one," you say, your lips curling into a playful smile.

"I think the best compliment I’ve ever gotten was when someone said, 'You're like Meryl Streep… but, you know, with fewer Oscars.’" You chuckle, shaking your head in amusement. "It was the kind of backhanded compliment that made me laugh for days." The interviewer laughs along with you. "That’s a good one," he says, clearly entertained. As you make your way towards the outside deck, the interviewer continues with another question. "Texting, calling, or FaceTiming?"

You grin as you lean casually against the railing, looking out at the beach below. "Oh, definitely FaceTiming," you say with a mischievous glint in your eyes. "I’m terrible at replying to text messages. I’d much rather see people's live reactions, y’know?" A more personal question comes next, and you smile thoughtfully as the interviewer asks, “How do you handle the pressures of fame?”

You nod, taking a moment before responding. "I lean on my family and friends—they keep me grounded. And I remind myself that pressure is a privilege. It means people care about what I do, and that means a lot." Your voice softens as you speak, the sincerity of your words clear as you step into your home office, showcasing the awards and accolades lining the shelves. The conversation turns to your personal life, and a warm, affectionate smile spreads across your face.

"Congratulations on reaching your two-year anniversary with Drew!" The interviewer says with a grin, and you beam in response. "Thank you!" you reply, your eyes sparkling as you think of him. "Drew is incredible. He’s my biggest supporter, my partner in everything, and honestly, just my favourite person. It’s been such a special journey since starting my career, and I’m so grateful to have him by my side."

"What's the key to a successful relationship?" He asks. You pause as you walk through the hallway, your gaze softening as you think. "I think it’s communication and a lot of patience. No relationship is perfect, but being able to talk things through and genuinely listen to each other makes all the difference." You smile, adding, "Oh, and laughter—if you can laugh together, you can get through just about anything."

The sound of the front door creaking open interrupts the moment, and a familiar voice rings out, instantly making your face light up. "Oh, there’s Drew right now!" you say, smiling brightly as you move toward the foyer. The camera follows you, capturing the scene as Drew enters, with Nellie, your cocker spaniel, bounding beside him. "Hey, baby," He greets you as he slips off his sunglasses, pulling you close for a tender kiss

When he pulls back, his eyes widen slightly as he spots the camera. "Oh, 73 Questions with Vogue?" he asks, a playful grin tugging at his lips. You giggle, nodding your head. "I forgot you were doing that today," he chuckles. “Go ahead, continue your interview," he adds with a fond look before walking off with Nellie. As the camera returns to you, you make your way toward the stairs, glancing over your shoulder to find Drew already on the floor, happily playing with Nellie.

A soft giggle escapes your lips, captured by the camera momentarily fixated on the fleeting connection. "What's something people don’t know about you?" the interviewer asks, pulling you back into the conversation. You pause, thinking for a second. "I’m actually allergic to most flowers," you reveal with a sheepish laugh. "Really? I wouldn’t have known," the interviewer responds, clearly surprised. "Oh, absolutely! When we film Outer Banks, they have to shoot around the flowers, or I'd be a sneezing mess," you confess, casually walking backward while maintaining a steady gaze with the camera.

The tour continues through luxurious walk-in closet, filled with designer attire. “What’s your pet peeve?” You laugh, shaking your head in mock exasperation. "Oh, definitely when people chew loudly. It’s like nails on a chalkboard for me. Chase is notorious for doing it on purpose, so I avoid him during my lunch breaks," you add, giggling at the memory. "Where was the best vacation you’ve been taken to?" the interviewer inquires as you step into your shared bedroom with Drew, the ocean stretching out just outside the windows.

"I think I’d have to say Vienna with Drew for my birthday," you say, smiling over your shoulder as you look out at the view. “A song you replay often?” "Hm, I think Charlie, Last Name Wilson," you say with a grin, rifling through the records. "It never gets old, and it’s super catchy." You smile as you pick it out. "Most of you guys would know that this song is also Drew and Austin’s favourite, so we always play it on set," you chuckle.

"Does the rest of the Outer Banks cast like it too?" the interviewer asks, laughing along. "They don’t have much choice," you joke with a grin.

"Is there anything from any set that you've taken home with you?" The interviewer asks eagerly. "The interviewer questions as you giggle, clapping your hands. ""Oh, I love this question!" you exclaim, opening a drawer to reveal a variety of souvenirs. "This is the bag my character 'Whiskey' from Glass Onion owned," you say, showing off the brown frill bag. "And here’s a pack of Italian cigarettes from Immaculate, they’re just props, by the way," you add with a wink.

You pull out a cowboy hat. "This one’s from Tom on the set of Billy the Kid," you explain. "And this," you say with a smile, holding up a ring on a necklace. "This is Rafe's ring, the one he gave my character." "What a beautiful photo of the two of you," the interviewer notes, pointing to the large black-and-white photo of you and Drew at a Vogue photoshoot above your bed.

"It is! That day was actually so special for us. We both got the call saying we’d been cast in our respective roles that we’d been auditioning for," you explain, your face lighting up with nostalgia. The interviewer then asks about Drew’s upcoming movie. "Speaking of which, Drew’s film Queer is coming out very soon. Are you excited to watch it on the big screen?" "Yes, of course!" you say, your voice full of pride.

"I was so incredibly proud of him when he got the role. He was definitely excited too, especially since it’s, you know, the Luca Guadagnino." You chuckle. "I got the privilege to actually be on set for a bit, and it was amazing. Plus, I got to catch up with Daniel," you mention. "It was really nice to see him again." You smile, the pride evident in your expression as you talk about Drew's accomplishments.

The conversation is interrupted by a gentle knock at the door, and both you and the interviewer turn your attention toward it. Drew’s head peeks around the corner, his grin lighting up the frame as the camera zooms in on him. "I made some iced teas—yours is half and half," he says casually, stepping into the room with a tray holding two glasses. You can’t help but beam as he hands you your drink. "Aww, thanks, babe," you say gratefully, your fingers brushing his for a brief moment as you take the glass.

Drew hands the other glass to the interviewer, who looks pleasantly surprised. "Wow, thank you, Drew!" he says with a wide smile. "Of course," Drew replies warmly before glancing at you. "Let me know if you need anything else," he says, shooting you a quick wink before stepping out of the room. The camera lingers on him for a beat as he walks away, capturing his effortless charm.

You take a sip of the iced tea, the cool, refreshing taste spreading through you as you let out a content sigh. "Is this something you drink often?" the interviewer asks, clearly curious. You nod enthusiastically. "Oh, absolutely. I like mine half and half, and I drink it like 24/7," you say with a chuckle, the glass still in your hand. The interviewer grins before asking a more personal question. "I can tell Drew is very thoughtful. What’s your favourite trait of his?"

You laugh softly, caught off guard by the difficult question. "You can’t make me choose—I love everything about him!" you say with a playful grin, your tone light but sincere. The interviewer chuckles along with you, clearly charmed by your response. "Okay, okay, fair enough. But if you had to pick just one thing that comes to mind?"

You pause for a moment, your expression softening as you think. "Hmmm," you hum, swirling your iced tea absentmindedly. "I love the little things he does," you begin, your voice warm with affection. "Like how he always remembers my coffee order or when he leaves me little notes when I’m on set. It’s those small, thoughtful moments that really mean the most to me."

The camera captures your tender smile, and the interviewer smiles himself, visibly touched by your response. "That’s so sweet," he says, his tone genuine. "It really is," you smile, a soft, almost bashful grin spreading across your face. "He’s the best boyfriend I could have ever asked for," you say, your tone filled with warmth and sincerity.

The interviewer watches you with an amused smile, clearly endeared by the dreamy, almost schoolgirl-like look on your face as you think about Drew.

~

The Vogue 73 Questions interview quickly becomes an internet sensation, captivating fans. It was everywhere. Clips of your candid answers and sweet, unscripted moments—especially the one where Drew casually walked in with iced tea—became the ultimate proof of why you were Hollywood’s darling. Within hours of its release, the hashtag #73QuestionsWithY/n trends worldwide.

The comments section was flooded with fans losing their minds over the glimpse into your life. "Can we talk about how Drew KNOWS her iced tea order by heart? If this isn’t relationship goals, I don’t know what is." "Y/n casually being gorgeous, funny, and real in her Charleston dream home? I’m in love." "The way Drew looked at her when he walked in… I CAN’T. He’s so whipped, and I’m here for it."

Memes circulate, celebrating your witty remarks and playful demeanor, while your thoughtful insights and open vulnerability spark heartfelt discussions. The part where Drew sneaks into the interview with iced tea becomes a fan-favourite, with many dubbing it "the cutest boyfriend moment of the year."

“I love how real she is,” one fan tweeted, accompanied by screenshots of your answer about Drew’s little notes and coffee orders. Another post with a screenshot of you laughing at Drew’s confused “Oh, Vogue’s here” reaction read, “You can just tell they’re best friends. I want a love like this.”

The media couldn’t get enough, either. Everyone from gossip sites to prestigious magazines weighed in on how you’d managed to blend the glamour of your career with the warmth of your personality. The buzz reignites interest in your past projects and elevates anticipation for your upcoming ones. Your social media following soars as fans, old and new, praise your ability to remain grounded despite your success.

Meanwhile, Drew’s small but sweet cameo sparks renewed admiration for your relationship, with countless threads and videos dedicated to celebrating your bond. “Y/n and Drew are proof that true love exists,” one viral tweet declares, garnering thousands of likes and retweets. Another fan edits together a montage of your cutest moments from the interview, set to a romantic song, which quickly racks up millions of views.

Drew couldn’t stop teasing you about how viral the iced tea moment had become. “You’re lucky I didn’t walk in shirtless,” he joked one night as you scrolled through TikTok, finding yet another edit of you two. “Please,” you said, giggling, your hand affectionately stroking Nellie, “half the internet would’ve fainted.” “Half?” He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I think you’re underestimating me, babe.”

[stonerfromlesbos]

✦ make it worse. | b.e

warnings: smut, oral, strap usage, hair pulling, tit sucking (all !r receiving), degrading, spanking, brat !reader, brat tamer !billie, mentions of safe word (not used), jealosy, billie being sweet at the end.

summary: how you should react to that? some random girl calling your girlfriend ‘mommy’ right in front of you, after weeks that billie hadn’t fucked you properly… well, maybe you ill had to tease her until you get what you want.

“baby please, i have to get ready to enter the stage in a few minutes.” billie said as you two were cuddling on the dressing room couch. your legs crossed on both sides of her waist, holding her sides tightly. “im gonna miss you so much.” you said with your usual whiny dramatic tone, making a pout face.

“is just one show… you will be watching it in your usual vip spot tho, ur already being privileged, my girl.” she says giggling and kissing your forehead softly. her fingers go up to your head, caressing your hair gently. the ‘my girl’ never failed in getting you flushed. “let me be selfish, bills.” you said with a pout face again, she just smiled gently at you. billie loved the way you wanted to be glued with her 24/7. she gave you multiple fast kisses, getting up and entering the box she was transported in.

the show was starting now, you could hear all the fans screaming and shouting at billie while she sang. her voice was almost angelic, she sang all those lines with all her heart. billie couldn’t stop herself of looking at you, no, she looked at the crowd, but at you? she boldly stared. those lines at her song ‘lunch’… she was almost singing them just for you. at many moments you cried, hearing her soft voice sing the most beautiful lines in the world.

but one in specific was your favorite, when the party is over. and it was a big moment in her show too, you felt so proud remembering that you gave her the idea of synching the vocals, she didn’t thought it was going to work because of the silence but it did. and it was fucking beautiful everytime. when she was preparing herself, she started her usual speech.

“guys.. i need you to be quiet right now.” she said and shortly after you could hear a girl screaming from the crowd, and it just made your blood boil. “yes mommy!” the girl said, clearly kidding, but after that billie started giggling. she was fuckin’ laughing at that, in front of you? it wasn’t a big deal, but, your blood just boiled, knowing that other girl called her that, and she fucking thought it was funny.

you would usually think it is funny too, but after she dragged you into a tour and almost refusing to fuck you, you were almost insane. billie didn’t want to take a night off to pay an hotel to be alone with you just because all of you were going to give the first tour break in like, 3 days. you were trying really hard to fight the urge of fucking her every single night, but this? this was too fucking much. as soon as the show ended, she leaded you towards the backstage.

“hi my angel” she said gently, holding your waist and walking with you by her side towards the dressing room. “hi billie.” you answered in an raspy tone. giving a clear hint that something wasn’t okay. “what happened?” she says closing the door behind her, looking at you with true concern. “you tell me, laughing at those fucking stupid things.” you didn’t look directly at her eyes, crossing your arms, you were acting childish, but you couldn’t help it.

“its because of that? seriously?” she said in misbelief, giggling getting closer to you, holding your waist. you still refused to stare at her, those goddam eyes, the smirk you could feel on her face, it was all to much. you took her hands out of you, going towards the other side of the room. sitting on the couch and going through your socialmedia, completely ignoring her.

“ignoring me huh?” she said standing in front of you, grabbing the phone from your hand and lowering herself to make you stare at her. her hair was messy and down now, but her black liner was still perfect. billie’s eyes just drowned you into them, it was some sort of magical power. “js showing you what you should’ve done with that girl.” you said raspy, staring at her with a nonchalant face, trying to hide how bad you wanted to make her take you right there.

“stop bein’ a fucking brat, you know damn well it was a joke.” she said with a serious tone, but you knew her. she wasn’t being serious, she wanted you to misbehave. just with that phrase you knew, she was going to fuck you tonight. “maybe i wouldn’t be if you just fucked me like you usually did, now im here, having to watch other girl call you ‘mommy’ while the ‘mommy’ here is just an lazy bitch.” you said trying so hard to not smirk, it was kind of your game… you would push her to her limits, until she was fucking you brainless.

“you’re such a slut, are you even hearing yourself right now? you can’t stand not being fucked by a week? maybe i will gift you a fucking vibrator if you need to cum that bad all the time.” she said mockingly, smirking at each word. “maybe i wouldn’t need a vibrator if my girlfriend wasn’t so incompetent, why im even dating you if you can’t make me cum properly?” you said getting up, staring at billie, getting closer trying to intimidate her. as she just grabbed your arms tightly. “i can’t make you cum? you are really sayin’ that?” she says with an smirk, you knew that you reached it, you made her mad enough.

billie’s hands were now grabbing your hair, not in a gentle way. she forced you to sit on the couch as she refused to kiss you. “gonna show u what i can do, slut.” she said almost ripping your tank top off, now staring at your exposed tits. “no bra?” she said sliding a hand underneath your skirt, and realizing that you were not wearing nothing underneath. “no underwear? desperate slut almost begging to be fucked.” she said in a low teasing voice. “stop being a fucking bitch and do it.” you said smirking and looking at her eyes, the next thing you felt was a harsh slap across your face, as billie grabbed your chin and pulled your face closer to her.

“fuckin’ behave, this is not going to end well to you, so you might as well don’t make it worse. keep this up and ill edge you all night, not letting you cum even a single fuckin’ time. understood?” she says with a even lower voice. staring deep at your eyes, you knew she was serious, because she already did that. and it was fucking hell on earth. she slapped you like thirty times just because you touched your clit. “yes..” you said giving in, in a more fearful tone.

“already tamed? weak slut, can’t stand the thought of not cumming huh?” she said mocking you, smirking as she layed down, giving her lap gentle pats. you understand the signs and go to sit on it, straddling her sides. billie’s hands quickly find their way to your skirt, lifting it up to exposed your bare ass. you try to kiss her, but she puts you away. “if you act like a slut, you get treated like one.” she says grabbing your ass tightly, feeling your soaked cunt starting to grind on her crotch. “fuckin’ stop that, sit on my face, now.” she demanded you, as you started going up. finally fitting the lower half of her face in the middle of your thighs.

“you’re dripping baby.” she said before entering your needy hole with her tongue, and after that, making her way to suck on your clit. you could feel every way she flicked her tongue on your sensitive spot. you covered your mouth with your own hands, trying not to scream in pleasure right now. it was not a fucking hotel, it was an dressing room, and you knew that all her team was on the room beside this one.

“taste s’ good, mamas.” she was fucking devouring you, like she was a starving beast. you could feel your hips grinding billie’s face as you were almost cumming. she could feel your insides tightening around her tongue, and then, she stopped. “do u really think im goin’ to let u cum this easy? after all you did?” she smirked giggling as she took your hips off her face, getting up of the couch and grabbing her bag.

that fucking bag.

billie took two straps out of the bed, one black and one red, you were used to the red one… but the black? that one was new. your eyes widened as you saw the size of it, it was fucking huge. “what do u wanna take first? huh? the black is 9 inches and the red is 7,5.” you were so fucking screwed, you were sure it wasn’t going to fit inside of you. “9 inches??? bills… i can’t take that.” you said with genuine concern.

she opened an gentle smile. “but you will.” her smile started to turn into a smirk. “ill get you prepared to it, and if it really is too much, you know what do to.” she said refearing to your safe word. you knew she wasn’t ever gonna do something to hurt you, so you trusted her. now she was unbuckling her belt and placing the red strap on her, getting closer to you again. “face down, ass up.” you obeyed her without questions, getting on the position she demanded you to.

"such a good girl." she says placing the faux cock on your folds, teasing you. you kept quiet, whimpering as you were being teased... it turned billie on, but she wanted to hear you. she harshly slapped your ass cheek. "are you behaving because you´re a good girl or a needy slut who got tired of acting up, huh?" she says chuckling, and grabbing a fistfull of your hair, pulling your head back. "don´t get cocky, you know i had to act up. or else you would keep me here insatisfait... then maybe i could write a song just like "over now".." you said giggling, mocking her, she kept quiet, but you still decided to hum the lyrics of her song.

"It's not that complicated"

"I wasn't satiated"

"You weren't that bad, just lazy"

you were so focused on humming the lyrics that you couldn´t realize that she was placing her cock right on entrance with the hand she had free. billie slammed her whole cock into you, making you unable to continue teasing her. she was rough, but she didn´t want to hurt you. after slamming her faux dick on your insides, she kept it there for long seconds, making you get used to it. after that, her pace was brutal. you could tell that she just kept quiet in that moment for you to burn yourself even more, and give her an excuse to be even rougher with you.

"never gonna tease m' like this again, mama." she almost growled as one of her hands holded on your waist as the other slapped your ass in a way that you knew that you´d be all sore. you tried your best to keep quiet, failing miserably. in a stupid attempt you shoved your head into the couch cushion, trying to muffle your moans that were coming out as almost screams of pleasure. "im gonna teach u a fuckin' lesson, cock addicted slut." you just whined, your whimperings being muffled by the cushion. "such a fucking whore, only able to behave with my cock filling you up, huh?" she mocked you, but you were unable to even form a sentence.

billie could feel your insides tightening around her, and then, she pulled it out, not letting you cum. you whined, with your legs trembling. "do you think you deserve to cum that easy huh? pathetic slut." she says as you turn yourself to lay on the couch and stare at her. she walks towards the bag again, taking the 9 inch strap from there and handing it to you. "you want to cum with wich one angel? do you think you can handle that one?" she spoke softly, with genuine concern not wanting to take it too far. "yes... i think i can bills, jus' let me be on top.. okay?" you said looking up at her with your usual sweet eyes. "whatever you want, angel." she said giggling "seems like i fucked the bratiness out of u so easily, huh?" she chuckles, taking the dildo from your hands and strapping it onto her crotch.

billie sat on the other side of the couch, because you made a mess on the other one. "come here angel." she pat her lap, as you crawled towards her, now straddling her sides. she holded you by the waist, pushing your sore body towards her. she gently caressed your cheek, pulling you into a slow and soft kiss, that just turned you on even more. you broke the kiss after she started to play with your neglegted clit, not being able to be quiet anymore. her skilled finger just played with it slowly, it felt like a torture. her half lided eyes just staring at you with a smirk on her face. she stopped, not wanting you to cum just yet... she took her strap and took your hips up, placing it on your entrance and staring at you, with both of her hands.

"whenever you´re ready, angel." she said as you took a deep breath and started to lower yourself in her cock. "so good baby, you´re doing such a good job." you managed to get half of it inside of you, taking another deep breath. "if you want to stop, just say the word, okay?" she says remembering you "i-im okay.." you say with your shaky voice, lowering yourself slowly until your cunt hits the base of it. "such a good girl, taking all of me." she says kissing your neck, and then going down to your exposed tits, sucking on it briefly as you are getting used to the size. "can i see where im at?" she asked and you nodded, allowing her. one of her hands started press a few places on your belly, until she saw the bump that were on your tummy, smiling knowing she was that deep inside of you.

you started moving yourself, riding her, it was slow. she helped you with your moviments, holding your hips and guiding you. "doing so good for me baby, so good." at this point, you were already in a fast pace, riding her cock as you got used to the size, it hit your g spot just right. your moans were increasing, so you took your hand to cover your mouth. she was staring at you, admiring how pretty you were while fucking yourself on her cock, how pretty you sounded being filled with her. "wanna hear you, mamas... don´t worry about them, you can fuckin' scream if u want to." she says grabbing your arm and putting it down, you soon took both of your hands to the sides of the couch, leaning on it to help you move, you were so fucking loud.

the room was filled with sounds, the sound of billie´s cock being shoved into your drooling cunt, of her sucking your tits, or even the wet sound of her playing with your clit... but it was clear that the loudest one was of you moaning, whining, screaming while being filled by her. "you´re so gorgeous fuckin' yourself on my cock, such a angel." your walls tightened around her faux dick as your moviments slowed down due to your now tired hips.. "i-im so close, can you help me.. bills?" you say staring at her with your tired eyes "don´t even need to ask me twice." she grabbed your hips, pulling you up, as she started to pound you in that position. she wasn´t gentle, but she didn´t hurt you. "gonna cum huh? gonna let you cum now, such a good slut." she mocked you, trying to get back to her dominant self. her pace was fast, hitting your g spot over and over again.

but she ended you in the moment that she stopped holding your hips with one hand and started to play with you clit again. in that moment you could feel your orgasm hitting you in one way you never experienced before. your whole body was trembling, as you were almost unable to moan. her pace slowed down, letting you ride through your orgasm in a way that you felt like you were on heaven. "can i pull it out already, babe?" she asked you, bringing you back to earth after pulling you onto the edge of pleasure. you nodded, as she gently took it out of you. holding on your waist gently while she pushed you closer to kiss her.

billie kissed you slowly, letting yourself rest after all she put you throught. "you know that you´re the only one, right my love?" asked you.. "i know." you answered it in a lazy tone. she quickly took her phone, texting someone. "what is it?" you ask "gonna take you to a good hotel tonight okay? gotta take care of you now, prepare yourself, gonna to spoil you all night baby.." she said in a soft tone "really huh?" you said giggling with a wicked smirk "gosh not in that way... you´re so naughty sometimes... can´t be a good girl even after i had railed you?" she says slapping your exposed ass again. "so no naughty spoil?" you said in a playfull sad tone.

"only if you can take it, my love."

taglist: @chrissv4mp @karaeilishh @iluvapplesxh @hkkuugu @bilsdillldough @n0vabug @certifiedwomenlover @dollyvuu

[sinofwriting]

Present - Pierre Gasly

Words: 681 Summary: Pierre has some thoughts about her buying herself a necklace.

Masterlist | Support Me!

She claps her hands together as she looks at her phone. The device perfectly angled to capture her, the kitchen counter where an unopened box was, and Pierre who was lounging on the couch answering some emails.

“So, in honor of hitting two hundred and fifty thousand followers and my birthday happening in a few weeks, I decided to get myself a present.” Her eyes are alight with excitement and she bounces a bit, fingers itching to open the box. Meanwhile, Pierre’s head jerks up, eyes wide as he stares at his girlfriend.

“I was a little nervous about getting this.” She starts to say as her fingers open the box. “But y’know it’s like a combined gift for myself and I’ve been really good at not touching my savings for the past few months, so I didn’t feel too bad about dipping in.”

Pierre makes a strangled sound.

Lifting her present out of the box, she presents it to the camera before opening the box. “Isn't it gorgeous?” She moves it a bit closer before continuing to talk.

“This from Cartier, it’s the Galanterie de Cartier necklace, which is nearly thirty thousand dollars and this is only my second time seeing it in person and I’m just even more in love with it. I’ve been looking at this necklace for a few years now and while I love my pink Les Berlingots de Cartier necklace.” As she says it, she gestures to the necklace she’s currently wearing. “It was time to give it a nice little sibling in the Cartier family.”

“Mon bébé,” Pierre starts, finally able to speak. “You didn’t actually buy that did you?”

She turns to face him with a confused look. “Yeah, I did.”

“With your money?”

“Yeah, with my money.”

He covers his face for a second. “Baby, I leave my card for you all the time to get things for yourself. You should have used my card, it's what it’s meant for.”

“I didn’t need to, it was a gift for myself.”

“Your gift for yourself, is something I’m supposed to pay for.” He argues, nearly pouting. “I was also going to buy that for you for your birthday. I was planning on going to the store tomorrow.”

Her face softens at his admission. While her buying it had been a present to herself, she also knew it would rile her boyfriend up and she didn’t often share things like this with her fans as they were more there for her talking about books, but she had thought it’d be a fun little thing to film, to let his and her fans see.

“You knew I wanted this?”

“Of course, I do. You’ve shown me pictures before and talked about it. I know you also like the 1895 necklace that Cartier does, but not just any 1895 necklace, only the one from that collection. You want that birthstone bracelet from Tiffany’s and a large collection of collectors edition books when we finally have a house and you can have your own library and reading place. I know everything you want.”

Her heart melts at his words. Pierre was sweeter than most people gave him credit for and he often showed that side of himself to her, but she had no idea how much he paid attention to things she wanted.

“C’mere.” She murmurs, setting her necklace on the counter, arms outstretched.

He easily swings his body over the back of the couch and grabs at her hips as soon as she’s in arms reach before kissing her.

“Is this close enough for you?” He asks when they break away to breathe.

Her teeth find her bottom lip as she shakes her head slowly. “I think you can get closer.”

Pierre smirks at the response, capturing her lips in another kiss as he moves one of his legs between hers. “How about you stop recording for tiktok and we record something else?”

A laugh leaves her at his words, but she’s already reaching for her phone. “Only if I get to be on top.”

“Deal.”

[puppyeared]

OWWWWWW

[thetadispatcher]

Peter frowned a bit at Willow's remark, but he decided not to ask for an explanation of what she thought was so easy just in case it wasn't directed at him specifically.

"Deviants have the same issue, if they get too stressed they'll self destruct... Not like explode, but bash their own brains in on whatever they can find. So far Vincent is the only one I've seen hit one hundred percent stress and not self destruct, we theorize his fear of loud noises overrides the self destruct protocol." He still had yet to find what the cause of self destructing was, as it was hard to find out what goes on during the event when the android effectively destroys the one thing that would hold the answer. And he didn't want to trigger it in a monitored android, it was too risky as he had no way to stop it once it began.

"But I understand the importance of keeping this from getting out, so don't worry about that." He knew it wouldn't lead to anything good if other found out about the existence of human brains in a digital format, and he didn't want to be asked about it as he wouldn't be able to provide any kind of suitable answer.

"And I don't really care to know why you have digital copies of human brains, something tells me the reason isn't something I would like to know." If someone had felt the need to do such a thing, and if the people the scans belonged to were no longer around, he had a feeling something terrible had happened. And he really didn't want to know what that something was, as Strasky's appearance made it clear just how terrible whatever had happened had been, and he didn't want to randomly start thinking about it.

Nines turned to look at them again when he heard his model mentioned, he had been listening as Brent hardly ever spoke well he was working so there wasn't much for him to do well he waited. "It is not the first time I've heard a threat on Kamski's life, nor will it likely be the last. Gavin makes them regularly, and I have heard androids say such things as well." He commented, hearing the creator of Cyberlife be issued death threats wasn't new to him, in fact he felt it was just a common thing to hear at that point in time.

"But if you must, try to not make it obvious it was you. I am a detective unit, so it would likely fall on me or my predecessor to solve it." Nines knew he shouldn't say such a thing, but after hearing stories from humans and androids alike of their experiences with the man he could care less what happened to him.

Peter looked away from Nines once he realized he was being spoken to again, answering with a small shrug. "He just kinda showed up and made himself at home. He hasn't done anything worth kicking him out for, and he seems to be friends with Vincent even if he refuses to admit it." Sure the android was rather odd and strange, but so were quite a few who also lived in the house, so it wasn't anything too surprising for Peter. And it was nice to see Vincent socializing with anyone that he wasn't initially forced to acclimate to, which felt like a good step in the right direction for the AP700 and he didn't want to risk compromising that. "Sure, he makes demands of me, but I promised never to make another android like Dan." And that wasn't a promise he planned to ever break as he trusted Dan to never hurt someone just because he had the ability to do so, and Dan would get upset if he broke it which he really didn't want.

Dan glanced at Peter before some movement out in the hall caught his attention, the movement being Sixty and a Jerry messing around with something he knew they shouldn't be. He carefully removed Peter from him before getting up and approaching the two, who quickly noticed him and took off. Dan gave chase as he saw they were still holding something they likely shouldn't have.

Nines watched the scene looking mildly amused to witness the PL600 have to chase down androids behaving like children. Peter seemed indifferent as it was a very normal occurrence to him, he was already looking at the pictures Strasky was showing to him on the Omnitool well listening to him explain the role of each person so he'd know how to build the custom units.

"That would be the RK800 that was mentioned earlier and a EM400, a hivemind android. EM400 are naturally child-like as they are used at amusement parks, and now some are finding other ways to entertain themselves like what was just seen." Nines explained as Peter was busy jotting down notes and getting the photos he needed from Strasky to explain the function of an EM400, and why one would be following around Sixty. "They call themselves Jerry, and as of right now there are only two present on the property. The other is likely with Ralph, a damaged WR600, to keep him from getting into any danger."

Whatever joke Rook had planned to make was set aside as she eyed the two. She obviously saw nothing wrong with hanging out with alternative versions of herself. It was kind of like meeting a distant cousin, expect they were unlikely to disappoint like most relatives do. Even Bishop had little to complain about his. They both acted the way one would expect from the likes of him.

Really, it was his fault for being an asshole. She glanced at the agent, then turned to Nines. It didn't seem like a smart idea to make android cops, but that world didn't exactly shine for its bright ideas.

"Oh, you have it so easy around here." Willow scoffed, rolling her eyes, "Those engrams have a tendency to destabilize. I'd prefer to resolve any compatibility issues myself. Whatever funding you may need, consider it covered. Again, feel free not to question the source. Not every corner of the world is as content with the existence of digital beings, it'd save me some extra work."

"You should consider moving here." Bishop suggested, a faint grin on his face. He found the concept of adopting androids amusing. Some people truly went through great lengths to find humanity in everything.

Not that he cared to understand it when he hardly contemplated showing basic decency towards the aliens he had captured.

"Having to share the planet with Kamski is miserable enough. I have no intention of moving any closer."

"What about your plans to murder him?"

"Please, do not quote me in the presence of the RK900."

"Oh, he really wants a katana up his ass." Rook mused, before turning to Peter, "I think it's cool that you've got brothers. What I don't get is why you're keeping the Bishop shaped one around."

[colorquest]

~☆~

D: Hey, hey, how much you wanna bet I can jump from the ladder to that chest without getting hurt? D: I'll land on all fours. M: I'm not sure I really want to bet anything on that, D... S: If there's anyone who could do that, it'd be you Debbie. D: Okay both of those answers are useless to me. D: Vilmr can you at least pretend you don't believe I'll make it so I can rub it in your face when I do? V: ... 🔆 D: Vilmr? S: You look deep in thought Vilmr, what's on your mind? V: I am just starting to wonder... V: If maybe we should ask Maja, if we should be streaming this. D: Are you serious. M: Do you mean from a legal standpoint, or...? V: I am thinking more about our karma. V: What if we are attracting bad company, observing this as skeptics? D: Well then you shouldn't have to worry because you're not the one seeing it. V: I can worry for your safety too, you know. S: It's nice of you to worry for us Vilmr, but I think it's alright. D: Yeah a million jillion people have seen eclipses before and ended up okay. D: Probably. D: I mean how else would we be here right now. V: Mmh... V: Maybe...

S: Oh hey, I know we can't tonight, but... S: You know what'd be fun tomorrow night? D: What? S: We should play night tag again! 🔆 S: Since the moon's so new it'll still be extra dark out. S: I know how much you like night tag Vilmr! V: Only if it's not in the woods this time! V: I hate it when Debbie hides in the trees. V: We can never find her! D: Hey okay, nobody ever said it was against the rules. V: Well I want it to be against the rules now. D: Pssh. D: Not my fault I'm super smart and think like, five steps ahead. S: Well, we could fly down somewhere more wide open if Yuan is around tomorrow night? D: Fuuuuuuuck yes, I'd be so down. M: Oh, I don't think I can tomorrow. S: *gasp* S: Oh my gosh right, tomorrow is your first night at the comic shop isn't it? M: Yeah, but I don't mind if you guys go ahead without me! D: Excuses, excuses... D: If you're scared of getting owned just say so. M: You got me, D. M: My job is just an elaborate ploy to avoid losing at tag. S: Well maybe we could save it for another day and go comic shopping instead? :> D: What the heck, are we gonna be shopping for like, hours? D: We could still play night tag, like, we can do both-- OH! D: Ohhhhh, if we do go though, Michael you BETTER remember to bring that hat. M: Haha, of course D.

S: *yawwwwwn* S: Vilmr, you still seem pretty agitated, are you that worried? V: What do you think? D: I'm not even gonna get innnnnnto this anymore! D: Honestly I think it's just so stupid silly. D: If you don't even believe in this stuff for real, what is even your reasoning this time? V: Debbie, just because I do not worship a moon god does not mean I do not believe in bad karma. V: With or without gods, things are always at play in this universe. V: It is not stupid, not to me. V: What happens if it really is a bad omen? V: What if we're doing something really dumb right now? V: Just to say you got to see it? D: Jeez Vilmr, you gave me your cell so you could avoid talking like this! D: I might as well be replaying Maja's voicemail, you two sound so similar. V: You are impossible! M: Vilmr, we're not the only ones watching this livestream.🔆 M: I'm seeing there's at least another fifty on the same page. M: Do you think they're in trouble too? V: Yes, I do. V: I'm really starting to think this stream shouldn't be up in the first place. V: There is a reason why this eclipse is in such a remote part of the planet. V: Think about it. V: The only places this can even be observed at all are either in the middle of the emptiest ocean in the whole world, or on the furthest edge of all of Halvma. V: Nobody even lives there. V: It's almost like nobody's meant to be seeing this one. S: What do you think is going to happen, Vilmr?

V: I! V: I do not know. V: But it feels like something bad. V: The air is biting all around me, I can feel it. S: Vilmr, I don't mean this in any sort of judgemental way or anything, but... S: You tend to say these kinds of things about a lot of things. S: And things usually end up alright. V: Ah, but see you fail to realise, you use the keyword: "usually." V: As in, not always. V: Sometimes, things still go bad. M: ...you do seem to have some pretty impressive foresight from time to time, I have to give it to you. V: Thank you. D: Okay well nothing's gonna stop me from watching this, sorry not sorry. D: If it means I'll die, at least I did it watching something cool, right Samantha? S: ... D: .........Smumantha...... S: Well now I'm nervous! V: And there is good reason for this! D: Well duh, you scared her into feeling that way! D: -_-!!! M: Okay, I know I complimented your foresight just now Vilmr but I really do think it's... a bit of a stretch? M: This time, I mean. M: Like, uh, aside from the fact that this might be legally dubious, D: enough with that already we gettttt it we get it. M: I think we'll be okay. M: It's not like we're actually seeing it in real life, you know? M: It's just a projection of it, after all. S: Oh, I guess that's a good point. D: Literally such a good point, probably the best point you've ever made actually Michael. V: Blughghhhhhh...

D: It's already about to start anyways, huhuhuhUAHAH!!! S: Ahhh no okay I'm still scared! M: It's just a video Samantha, nothing divine about that! V: Maja förlåt miggggggg... D: No turning back now, scaredyturds!

<[Last] || [Next]>

[starkeyslibrary]

FALLING OUT OF FRAME | Part 4

pairing: you x drew starkey

authors note: first off, I want to apologize for the delay in getting Part 4 to you. the flu hit me hard, and while I’m feeling better now, I’m still not 100%. Today’s been one of the better days, so I’m happy to finally share this with you! also, for all the new readers joining this series (welcome!), a quick note about the taglist: If you’d like to be added, please send me a message instead of commenting under posts. my notifications can get a little wild sometimes, and I don’t want to miss anyone’s request. Enjoy!

It had been a couple of days since the paparazzi had caught you. The pictures of you crying alone in the street made their rounds through the tabloids. Headlines blared across every news outlet: “Y/N Heartbroken: Tears on the Streets After Split with Drew Starkey”. You couldn’t escape them – everywhere you went, there were reminders of how vulnerable you had been, how much you were hurting. You had tried to fight it, tried to keep up a front. But the pictures, the emotional rawness, had taken a toll.

Your phone buzzed incessantly with notifications, and Drew’s name popped up more than you cared to count. The text messages, the calls, the voicemails – he was reaching out, desperate to fix what he had broken. You could feel the weight of his messages pressing down on you, each one pulling at the strings of your broken heart.

Drew’s text:

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. Please let me see you.”

“I didn’t mean this to happen. I miss you so much.”

“Can we please talk? I hate seeing you like this.”

You stared at the screen, your fingers hovering over the keys, but you couldn't bring yourself to reply. Every time you thought about responding, all you could see was that night – his absence, his lies, the way he had been with Odessa, and the emotional toll it was taking on you. The tears had fallen freely and now, in the cold light of day, they felt like a public spectacle. And that hurt.

Your friends were your saving grace during this time. Madelyn had taken you in the moment she found out about the photos. You spent long nights at her apartment, binge-watching shows and talking about everything and nothing. It was a distraction you needed, but even then, your thoughts kept circling back to Drew.

Madelyn was a good friend, she knew how to give space when you needed it but also to push you when you were being too hard on yourself. “Y/N, you can’t keep torturing yourself like this,” she told you one evening, as you both sat together on her couch, a glass of wine in hand. “I know it’s hard, but you have to stop looking at those pictures and thinking that’s all there is to your story. You deserve so much more than to be defined by what happened with Drew.”

“I know,” you sighed, resting your head against the back of the couch. “But it’s hard, Madelyn. It’s not just about the photos or the press. It’s everything. I thought we were more than that. I thought… I thought it was real.”

Madelyn’s expression softened, and she leaned in, taking your hand. “I know you did. And I think, deep down, Drew did too. But right now, you need to figure out what you want. Not what he wants. Not what the press wants. You need to decide what’s best for you.”

But even as your friends gave their support, you couldn’t escape the pull of Drew’s attempts to contact you. His phone calls became a constant. Every time your phone buzzed, your stomach twisted in knots. You hated that he was the one making you feel like this, that he still had the ability to drag you back into his world with just a message.

Finally, on one particularly sleepless night, the phone rang again. Drew’s name flashed across the screen.

You didn’t answer it.

Minutes later, another text from him:

“Please I can’t stand this. I’ve seen the pictures. I know you’re hurt. But I need you to know, I never wanted to hurt you. Us. I’m sorry for everything. Can we please meet and talk? I love you please don’t forget that.”

You stared at the message, feeling that familiar ache in your chest. Part of you wanted to believe him, wanted to give him the chance to fix this, to explain himself. But another part of you – the stronger, more resilient part – was terrified of falling for the same lies, the same empty promises.

You knew what you had to do. You couldn’t keep letting him pull you back into this mess.

__

The next day, you went to work, keeping your head down, avoiding any attention. But it was impossible to escape the ever-present eyes of the public. Every glance at your phone, every time you stepped outside, you could feel the weight of the scrutiny. The paparazzi had followed you more than once, snapping pictures of you walking alone, trying to find solace in your routine.

But no matter where you went, there was always someone watching. Always someone commenting. The paparazzi caught it all – the lonely moments and the sadness in your eyes. It felt like you were trapped in a never ending cycle of being seen,  but not truly known.

It wasn’t long before Madelyn called you again. Her voice was gentle, but you could hear the concern behind it. “Y/N, Drew wants to meet. He’s asking if you can at least hear him out. He says he’s messed up. He is not asking for forgiveness, just a chance to explain.”

You stood by the window, staring out at the city, the weight of her words sinking in. You had to make a choice. You couldn’t keep going back and forth between holding on and letting go.

But could you trust him again?

The uncertainty gnawed at you, and all you could do was take a deep breath and say “Tell him… I’m not ready. Not yet.”

Madelyn didn’t argue. She knew this was something you had to figure out on your own.

You spent the next few days doing everything you could to put distance between yourself and the mess that had become your relationship with Drew. You kept working, you spent time with friends, and you tried – really tried not to think about him. But you couldn’t escape the feeling that something was missing, that your world felt incomplete without him in it.

But then you realized: You had to be okay without him first. You couldn’t keep trying to piece yourself together with someone who had already shown they weren’t ready to treat you the way you deserved.

And so, you decided that you needed to move on. You deserved better than being stuck in a limbo. You deserved love that was real, not based on a public imagine, not tainted by lies and half-truths.

This was your time to find yourself again. And maybe, just maybe, Drew wasn’t a part of that future.

TAGLIST: @princesspeach124 @idiotussupremus @eitaababe @13tter @drewsephrry @drewstarkeyzwhore @cooper8224 @maybankslover @elyseesarchive @ietss @esquivelbianca @josephandrewstarkey @willowpains @wtfdudesblog @purplerose291 @rafegf-real @matthewswifeyy @fangirl-magic @snowtargaryen @slut-era

[luvismenu]

09 — miss your touch ✎ ,, index

nsfw warnings: kissing.

note: she's not pregnant you guys dw 😭

wc: 3.4k

a week.

it's been a week since you've seen jungkook.

there were a few texts from him, asking if you were okay, but nothing beyond that. you answered with short replies; a yes or a no. sometimes, you asked how he was, and he'd say he's okay. but there’s a clear shift now, an invisible line drawn between you two.

a line you’d already crossed once but now seem to be retreating behind. back to where you started; strangers who just happened to share something.

you might’ve overreacted.

the thought stings, but yeah, maybe you did. he wasn’t even that late. you believe him when he said he had to deal with something. that something being a female, it’s not like he hid it. still, for reasons you can’t explain, just thinking about it makes you roll your eyes.

but he came straight to you after that.

and you know jungkook doesn’t lie. at least, that’s what you’ve learned about him in these two months.

two months.

it’s been two months, and yet here you are, acting as if he’s yours.

he isn’t.

and that’s good. you don’t want a relationship. you never did. relationships are nothing but unnecessary stress or drama. or at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

you can’t let jungkook fall into the “relationship” category. but calling him your casual fuck buddy feels off, because you’re both closer than that now. thinking of him as just a friend, though... that feels wrong. unnatural, even.

it’s so complicated.

it shouldn’t be. but it is.

sometimes, it feels like he doesn’t care. you wish he’d show more emotions, something more than his usual calm, nonchalant demeanor.

it feels like you’re the only one overthinking this while he’s just... fine. unaffected.

why do i feel like a wreck? is it just me? you wonder.

you don't wanna miss his touch.

you don't wanna miss him.

but you miss him more than you want to admit.

and now, you don’t even know how to approach him. things feel so awkward. you’re not sure how to cross that line you’ve suddenly drawn.

a week without seeing him feels like forever. especially when, for the past two months, he’s been part of your every day. whether it was texts or calls, he was there.

which is why you’re here. at the business expo everyone’s been working so hard for.

you don’t know much about it, just the bare minimum yoongi mentioned. apparently, other majors can attend as long as they say they’re interested in learning something.

as if. you would never attend something like this.

but for him? for jungkook?

you’re here anyway.

jungkook feels like a wreck.

he misses you.

a lot.

but at the same time, he thinks he needed that break. from everything. a week isn’t much, but it gave him enough space to clear his head.

iseul tried to contact him again. he blocked her number.

then she tried to approach him in person. he blocked her out of his life too.

he knows she’s probably furious, and maybe even hurt, but he couldn’t let her keep dragging him into the same cycle. not anymore.

“jungkook, i’m sorry, honey, i didn’t mean to snap at you that day—” she said, her voice was soft, almost pleading.

but he cut her off, firm and final, his words heavy but deliberate.

“i think it’s for the best if we move on now.”

he couldn’t believe those words came out of his mouth, but for once, he didn’t regret them. saying it felt like a weight had been lifted, one he’d been carrying far too long.

it wasn’t easy, but it was necessary.

now, though?

all he can think about is you.

you told him you were fine now. the conversations between you two since then have been brief, surface level, and awkward. it feels like a wall has been built, and though neither of you acknowledges it, it’s there.

jungkook wishes you’d talk to him soon, break through whatever tension is lingering.

when you told him to leave that day, he froze for a moment. it stung, but he understood. if you needed space, he’d give it to you. the last thing he wanted was to make things harder for you when you were already unwell.

but he feels awful.

all he did was add to your stress, and now the guilt is eating at him. he’s ready to do anything—absolutely anything—to make things right with you, to hear you say you forgive him.

yet, it feels strange.

why does he feel this way about you?

whatever this is between you, it was supposed to be no strings attached. that was the deal. you both made it clear from the beginning. but somewhere along the line, things shifted. you’re not just a hookup to him anymore. you’re so much more than that, though he’s not sure how to define it.

he wonders if he should set boundaries, remind himself of what this arrangement is supposed to be. but it’s hard—impossible, even. every time you’re together, he’s drawn to you. it’s like you’ve got this pull on him, and he doesn’t even want to resist it.

he doesn’t wanna miss your touch.

and right now?

right now, he just misses you. everything about you.

“jungkook, is that you?” a voice cuts through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. jungkook turns, searching for the source of the familiar voice.

“ah, it is you!”

his lips twitch into a smile when he spots the person approaching him.

“jin hyung,” he says, a little surprised to see him.

jin strides up to him, pulling him into a firm hug and patting his back.

“took you long enough to show up,” jungkook says as they pull apart, raising a brow.

jin lets out a dramatic sigh. “had to deal with things, you know how it is,” he says, waving a hand before flashing a grin. “but hey, i’m here now, aren’t i?”

“yeah, you are,” jungkook replies, shaking his head lightly, though the smile on his face betrays the faint scolding in his tone.

“oh, come on,” jin says, feigning offense. “is that it? is that all the welcome i get? give me a proper one! i am one of the guests tonight, after all.”

his grin grows wider, and jungkook can’t help but chuckle at his hyung’s playful energy.

where is jungkook?

you're in the auditorium, surrounded by bustling booths, neatly arranged tables, and groups of students passionately discussing their projects. you didn’t realize business majors went all out for an expo like this.

you feel like yelling his name at the top of your lungs. you've been walking around, searching through a sea of unfamiliar faces, but you can’t find him anywhere.

“uh, hey,” you say, tapping a guy’s shoulder, interrupting his conversation.

woah, this guy has really broad shoulders.

he turns around, and you’re momentarily taken aback. the man is tall, dressed in a suit that looks like it was tailored for him, glasses framing his handsome face, and hair styled perfectly.

“yes?” he asks, polite but slightly curious.

you hesitate, then decide to go for it. “do you know where i can find jungkook? i mean, jeon jungkook? he’s supposed to be here somewhere,” you say, unsure if he even knows who jungkook is. but you’re desperate now.

his lips curl into a small smile. “why, of course. i was just speaking with him a few minutes ago. he excused himself to use the restroom, so he should be back shortly.”

“thank you,” you reply quickly, already preparing to make your way toward the direction of the restrooms. maybe, just maybe, you’ll bump into him as he’s walking back.

“are you one of his friends?” the man asks suddenly, stopping you from taking a step forward.

you glance at him, unsure how to respond. “uh... yes, kinda. sure,” you say awkwardly. you catch the faint arch of his brow, as if your answer only piqued his curiosity more.

why didn’t i just say yes? you mentally scold yourself, feeling ridiculous.

clearing your throat, you quickly excuse yourself.

"excuse me,” you mumble before turning and walking away, hoping the restroom isn’t far and jungkook will finally appear.

you walk through the rows of booths, still scanning the area for any sign of jungkook. the loud chatter of students and the hum of discussions fill the air, but all you can focus on is the thought of finding him.

as you near the restrooms, you catch a glimpse of a familiar figure standing by the entrance, hands stuffed in his pockets, his posture relaxed yet somehow tense.

it’s him.

your heart skips a beat, and you can’t help the small sigh of relief that escapes you. he looks as good as ever, effortlessly drawing your eyes to him. he’s wearing a sharp black suit that fits him perfectly, making him look every bit as important as you’re sure he is. he must be a key figure in this expo, you think.

all you know is that he’s supposed to give some kind of presentation. that’s it. nothing more. you didn’t bother to find out the details because, honestly, none of it matters to you.

all you want right now is to see him.

you walk towards him, taking slow steps, unsure how to act. you haven't seen him in what feels like forever, and all that awkward tension you’ve been trying to ignore creeps back up.

when he notices you, his eyes widen for just a second before a small smile breaks across his face. it’s a smile you haven’t seen in a while.

“hey,” he greets you.

you nod, trying to keep your cool despite the rush of emotions. “hi,” you say, feeling your heart race. you look at him, searching his face for any clue about how he’s been, but you can't tell much.

“i didn’t think you’d show up,” he admits, his gaze flickering over you. “thought you were gonna skip it.”

“just wanted to see what this is all about.” you say, trying to sound casual

he chuckles softly, his eyesglancing down. “didn’t expect you to be interested in this stuff.”

“well, i’m not,” you say, feeling the need to explain yourself. “but i wanted to see you. jungkook.”

there’s a brief moment of silence as his expression shifts, and you can’t tell if he’s surprised or if he’s just been waiting for you to say something. his eyes meet yours, and there’s an intensity there that makes you second guess every word you just said.

“i’ve been meaning to talk to you,” he says quietly, stepping a little closer. “i know things have been... off. and honestly—”

loud chatter in the background interrupts him, making both of you exchange a quick glance before he speaks up again.

“follow me.”

you follow him without thinking. the sound of people fading away as you walk through the crowd. he leads you to what feels like an empty lecture hall, making sure to lock the door behind you. you stand there, waiting for him to speak, the quiet now heavy between you two.

“i know things have been different recently,” he starts again, his voice soft. “and i honestly don’t know why...” he sighs. “but i want to apologize for that day. i’m really sorry.”

you swallow, trying to steady yourself. “i forgive you,” you say, your voice steady, but there's still an uncertainty in your chest.

“really?” he looks at you, his gaze searching yours for some kind of reassurance.

“yeah,” you nod, “i was just sick and i guess i overreacted a little, i’m sorry for that.”

he shakes his head quickly. “you didn’t. you didn’t overreact.”

a quiet but heavy silence fills the space between you both.

“so, uh, cool event,” you say, trying to break the tension.

“don’t act like you care,” jungkook smiles, the familiar smirk finally making its way onto his face.

you smile too, shrugging lightly. “yeah, i don’t.”

there’s another brief silence. you’re not sure what to say next, the awkwardness still lingering in the air. what if he’s going to end things? what if he’s had enough? what if.

“jungkook, i—”

his lips are on yours before you can even finish your sentence. the kiss catches you off guard, but his arms wrap tightly around your waist, pulling you in, and any hesitation melts away. his warmth seeps into you, grounding you in the moment as his lips move against yours with a desperate sort of tenderness.

you don’t pull back. instead, you let yourself fall into it, let him guide you. the kiss deepens, and with it, the questions and uncertainties that had been weighing you down dissolve, replaced by the overwhelming feeling of him. here, now, with you.

when you finally pull back, your chest heaves as you gasp for air. your mind is racing, your heart pounding in your chest. you don’t know how to respond. a part of you wants to spill everything; how much you’ve missed him, how unbearable the distance has been, how empty you’ve felt without his touch. but the words catch in your throat, like they're stuck somewhere.

“i’m sorry, i…” he begins, his voice barely above a whisper. his hands don’t leave your waist, holding you close as if afraid you might slip away. “i missed you.”

those three words hit harder than you expect, stirring something deep inside you. warmth spreads through your chest, a quiet comfort you didn’t realize you’d been craving.

it’s simple, almost too simple, but it feels like it’s enough. like it’s the answer to everything that’s been weighing on your heart; the confusion, the space, the silence between you two. suddenly, none of it matters.

“you missed me?” you ask softly, your voice trembling just slightly. it’s as if you need to hear him say it again, to be sure you’re not imagining it.

he nods, his eyes locked on yours. his voice is gentle. “yeah, i did.”

you stare at each other for a moment, the air between you thick with many unspoken feelings. then, without thinking, you lean in, closing the distance as your lips find his. your arms wrapping around his neck as if pulling him closer could erase all the time you spent apart. he responds immediately, his lips pressing against yours with equal fervor, like he’s been waiting for this.

your right leg slides up instinctively, brushing against his hip, and he understands your silent request. his hands move to your thigh, gripping it firmly as he lifts you effortlessly. your legs wrap around his waist, and his strong hands shift to cup your ass, holding you securely against him. the closeness sends a rush of heat through you, your bodies fitting together perfectly.

the kiss deepens, his tongue teasing against your lips until you part them, granting him access. his tongue brushes against yours, slow and deliberate, sending a wave of warmth straight to your core. you hum softly into the kiss, the sound vibrating between you, and his grip on you tightens.

he places you on the nearby desk, his lips never leaving yours. his hands grip your waist, keeping you steady. your fingers slide down to his chest, gently gripping his shirt as if holding on for balance. he pulls back for a brief moment, giving you both a chance to catch your breath.

without hesitation, he shrugs off his blazer, carelessly tossing it to the floor. the sound of it hitting the ground barely registers as his hands return to you, cupping your face with a tenderness that contrasts the heat between you. his lips find yours again, urgent yet soft, and you let him take control, your hands moving to cup his face too.

your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him closer, and you can feel his soft bulge pressing against you. the sensation is enough to make your breath hitch, and you instinctively tilt your hips toward him, craving more of the pressure.

he pulls back slightly, his lips brushing against yours as he murmurs, “you drive me crazy.”

oh fuck.

“what—” you start to ask, but the sound of knocking interrupts you.

both of your heads snap toward the door, your bodies tense.

“jungkook!? you in there?” a familiar voice calls out, loud and clear.

jungkook immediately recognizes it and clears his throat, trying to steady his voice. “yes! jin hyung, i’m here.”

“i’m about to give my speech, so you better be there asap!” jin’s voice is full of its usual dramatic flair. “i came all the way here for this moment, and i don’t want you to miss my glory.”

you hear his footsteps retreating, his words lingering in the air.

jungkook exhales, his head leaning slightly forward until it rests against your forehead. his hands remain on your waist, his touch warm, grounding you in a moment that feels anything but steady. he mumbles under his breath, almost as if he’s scolding himself. “of all the times…”

your heart races, and your mind spins in circles. what does he mean by you drive him crazy? the weight of those words presses down on you, heavy and confusing.

“jungkook,” you start, your voice barely above a whisper. “i think you should go.”

he lifts his head to look at you, his brows furrowing slightly. the regret in his eyes is unmistakable.

maybe i shouldn’t have said that. he thinks as he takes a small step back, creating a gap between you that suddenly feels too wide.

“are you going to stay?” he asks cautiously, his voice softer now.

you open your mouth to answer but hesitate. you don’t know what to say. this was never part of your plan. all you wanted was to see him, to tell him you were sorry too. but now, standing here with him, everything feels so much more complicated.

“___,” he says your name gently, snapping you out of your daze. your gaze meets his, and he blinks at you, his expression searching.

“i know things have changed between us, and—”

“what do you mean? we’re fine, though,” you cut him off quickly, the words spilling out as if saying them will make them true.

he lets out a heavy sigh, “are we?”

the question catches you off guard. your frown deepens as uncertainty settles in your chest.

are we?

your silence answers for you, and he notices. he always notices.

“it’s okay,” he says softly, almost like he’s trying to soothe you. “i don’t know how to deal with it either.” he pauses, his voice quieter. “i don’t know what we are right now.”

what are we?

the words echo in your mind, and you hate how much they hurt. it wasn’t supposed to be like this. you never wanted it to turn into this mess.

“i think…” you start, and his eyes are on you immediately, waiting, hoping you’ll say something that will make this all easier.

“...i should go.”

you don’t miss the way his shoulders drop just slightly, the smallest sign of defeat. you hesitate for a moment before sliding off the desk, your movements stiff and uncertain.

you gulp, forcing yourself to meet his gaze one last time. “good luck with your presentation,” you say softly. you linger for a second, watching him, hoping he’ll say something to stop you. but all he does is nod, his response quiet and unreadable.

with a deep breath, you turn around and walk toward the door. every step feels heavier than the last.

behind you, jungkook exhales a long, weary sigh, running a hand through his hair.

did i mess it up? he wonders, his chest tightening with something he doesn’t know how to name.

a/n: um haha.... jin with glasses yay!! 🏃🏻‍♀️

📜 series taglist: @deepikhaprakash @rjooniesdimples @wombatkitten127 @hoseokteardrop

📜 permanent taglist: @lovieku @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @onlyforyoukook @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @genevieveeeee @kookoo-kachoo @junecat18 @iheartchanelle @internetrando64 @jkvias @134340-kr @mar-lo-pap @fluttershypoo @kyuupii @https-mei @elinaki92 @jungkookmyoneandonlybaby @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @jaykay-world @jmscaffeine @libra04 @beigerin @nikidream24 @svnbangtansworld @mimi1097

[jhilsara]

Of Bookstore, Coffees, and Late Nights pt. 4

Sunshine!Reader/Southern!Reader/Plus Sized!Reader

Pairing: Fem!reader x Spencer Reid

Summary: Welcome to the holiday special! Set during season 8 you spend Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas with Spencer.

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: Canon typical BAU themes, sick family members, holiday family fighting, (no Maeve...this is my fanfic and I say Spencer's had enough trauma)

Previous|Next

Halloween   

Spencer had convinced you to go out with him, JJ, and Will. They were going to take Henry trick or treating and then go off to a bar their team frequently ventured into.  

Spencer and his team had recently landed from a case and Spencer was grinning from ear to ear. Apparently, Henry had not wanted to go out on Halloween, but something changed his mind. Spencer refused to tell you what Henry’s costume was, declaring it a surprise.   

Spencer had picked you up and you two were in your own costumes. You dressed as Katniss Everdeen from the new Hunger Games movie. You had dragged Spencer to go see it after you had him read it during one of their earlier book exchanges. Spencer was dressed as Doctor Frankenstein. Large white lab coat and ridiculous googles.   

“Are you sure this is okay? I mean, I don’t know them that well.” You asked nervously.   

Spencer just laughed and nodded. “I’m more than sure. JJ and Garcia have been hounding me to make time for you to hang out with them.”  

“Because they like me or because they want to profile me?” You asked skeptically.  

Spencer shrugged, “Honestly, could be either, both, or none of the above. But, JJ knows you helped Will from bleeding out so, you’re solid in her book.”  

“I thought we agreed to not ever talk about the bank again?” You mumbled.   

“I know I know; I won’t bring it up again.” he said with a grin.   

You rolled your eyes, knowing well it wouldn’t be the last time.   

Once they arrive at JJ and Will’s house Henry answers the door and immediately you melt at the sight. Little Henry was dressed as Spencer, badge and all, and you had to bite your tongue from almost crying.   

JJ popped up behind Henry and smiled at the two. “Nice costumes.” she said looking them over.  

“Uncle Spencer, do I look like you?” Henry asked excitedly spinning in a circle.   

Spencer leans down to pick up Henry, “You look just like me! I think I’m looking in a mirror Henry.”   

The blonde boy giggled and hugged his uncle.   

“Come on in, we’re almost ready to go. Will’s just finishing the dishes.” JJ said, ushering them in.  

Will come’s around the corner with a rag in his hand as he looks for the source of noise, “I thought I heard y'all.” He said smiling.   

Will comes up to you arms open for a hug, “Hey.”   

you immediately hugged him, “Hey Will.”   

You smiled when he pulled away. Will raised his hand to Spencer, who was still holding Henry. 

“Can you watch him so we can go change real quick?” Will asked.   

Spencer nodded, “Absolutely, go don’t worry about it.”  

“Promise we’ll be quick; our costumes are easy.” JJ said with a grin.  

The two hurry off to their bedroom and Spencer sets down Henry.   

“Are you excited to go trick or treating bud?” Spencer asked softly.   

Henry nodded in excitement. “Mommy and Daddy are going to be my back up.”   

You just smiled as you watched Spencer interact with Henry. He easily kept him entertained and was overall, just great with the kid. you almost think you should have Spencer do some magic at the shop for the kids during the day sometime. He just easily knows what to do. It’s charming.   

JJ and Will come around the corner and are in all black suits and sunglasses. You gave a loud guffaw of a laugh, having to cover your mouth.   

“Oh, now this is just a stereotype.” Spencer said, trying to look upset, but his smile gave him away. 

“What? We can’t poke fun at ourselves?” JJ said with a small spin in her fake FBI suit. A massive plastic badge hanging from her hip.   

Spencer just shook his head.   

“I feel spiffy, this isn’t a bad suit for a costume.” Will said looking over his sunglasses.   

JJ laughed and then clapped her hands together looking at her son, “You ready Henry?”  

Henry bounced in excitement and ran up to his parents.   

“Wait, wait, before we go let me get pictures of you guys. It’s so cute.” You said, fishing out your phone.  

Will, JJ, and Henry pose. Will and JJ make a Mr. And Mrs. Smith pose back-to-back that has you giggling.   

“Perfect.” she smiled as she finished snapping a few pictures.   

JJ moves to open the front door and ushered everyone out, “Come one we’re burning the night away!”   

Henry had about an hour and a half of trick or treating in him before he started dragging his feet.  

“You tired big guy?” Will asked his son as he picked him up.   

Henry nodded slowly, fighting to keep his eyes open.   

“It’s bedtime for this one.” JJ said kissing the crown of Henry’s head.  

Will adjusts Henry in his arms. “We’ll go put him to bed, we’ll meet everyone at the bar.”   

Spencer and you nod, waving them off.   

“He’s the cutest kid I’ve ever seen.” You coo watching them walk off.   

Spencer nodded, “He absolutely is.”   

“You’re so good with him.” you crossed your arms. “Maybe you should lead a reading time or do a magic show at the bookstore.”   

Spencer looks down at you, “Now you’re just extorting me for labor.”   

You giggled, “I give you plenty of free coffee to warrant asking you for story time with the kids in the bookstore.”   

Spencer makes a face. “Definitely extorting me.”  

“I’d say it’s more a barter and trade system.” you said with a grin.   

“Whatever, come on.” He laughed, grabbing your hand to lead you off to go to the bar.   

You feel your face heat up from Spencer holding your hand, you go quiet and just let him lead you.   

Once at the bar, Derek and Penelope are already seated in a back booth. Penelope spots the two first and she stands waving them over.   

Penelope immediately grabs you from Spencer. “We need shots!” she declared as she dragged you with her to the bar.   

Derek just laughed watching them leave.   

“How many drinks has she had?” Spencer asked with a laugh.   

“None. She was waiting.” Derek responded with a chuckle.   

Penelope and you stand at the bar waiting to order shots. While they wait for the bar tender Penelope takes this time to chat you up.   

“I can’t believe Spencer hasn’t brought you out until now! I mean- there was the wedding, but I’ve been begging him to let me hang out with you!” Penelope pouts.   

You laughed, “Well, my schedules a little crazy. I’m always working at night so I can’t really go out like this all the time.” you told her.   

Penelope nodded, “Right, you run a late-night cafe and bookstore, right?”  

You hummed in agreement. “Yeah, I do. It’s a lot of fun and the inside is super comfortable. If you ever want to drop by, feel free to! I’d love for you to come by.” You told the blonde.   

Penelope’s face bursts into a big grin. “That sounds great. I’ll make sure to take you up on that.”  

Finally, the bartender makes his way over to them.  

Over at the booth, JJ and Will finally made it in. The group is chattering amongst themselves, waiting for Penelope to come back with you.   

JJ looked over to spot them at the bar, and she took an opportunity.   

“So, Spence...” she started with a conspiratorial tone.   

Spencer immediately froze and gives JJ a knowing look. “Why do I already not like where this is going?”  

“It’s nothing serious just...” her eyes avert over to the bar, “Do you like her?” she whispered loudly across the table.  

Derek started to laugh, looking at JJ with a raised brow. “Are we really about to press pretty boy on his love life right now?”   

Spencer’s face is tinted pink as his eyes widen. “JJ...” he sighed.   

“Spence.” She replied with a deadpan stare.   

His eyes flickered over to try to see if Penelope and you were coming back. Hoping he could escape this grilling.   

“I’m not gonna let this go, so you can answer here or at work with Rossi and Hotch in the room.” She said with a smirk.   

Spencer sighed and looked down at his hands on the table. “She’s wonderful, and when she was a hostage, it really hit me in that moment that she’s important to me.” he murmured.   

“She’s too sweet though...and I’m, me.” He said quietly.   

Derek and JJ make a face. They didn’t believe that for a second. Before they could reply though, Penelope bounced back with you in tow.   

“This conversation isn’t over Spence.” JJ murmured.  

“Oh, everyone’s here!” Penelope shouts, moving to hug JJ in excitement.   

Penelope shoots a playful glare at Spencer, “You better move boy genius because my spot is next to big man.”   

Spencer rolled his eyes but slid over to get up. Penelope shot him a dazzling smile and moves to saddle herself next to Derek. Spencer gets back in the booth, and you slide next to him. With everyone in the booth, they’re basically brushing against each other. Your leg is pressed against his and you feel like you’re burning up. It could be the alcohol or your nerves, you’re unsure.   

The night goes on and you drink far more than you probably should have. You're a light weight and Penelope Garcia just kept ordering shots for her, you, and JJ.   

The three women are standing outside in the cold air chattering away while they wait for the others to close out their tabs.   

You’re swaying on your feet humming a mindless tune and Penelope’s leaning against you.   

“You’re so sweet- I understand why our boy wonder would keep you to himself.” Penelope giggled.  

You shook your head, “No no, it’s not like that.” you giggled.   

“Oh please,” JJ rolled her eyes her own smirk on her face. “You two were giving each other eyes all night.”   

You gasped, “No we were not! He’s my best friend.”   

JJ and Penelope give each other matching looks before humming in acknowledgement.   

“I’m serious! I know what a sarcastic mmhmm means, I invented it.” You said with a frown.   

The doors open and the three, much more sober, men come out.   

“Come on baby girl, time to say goodbye. You need your bed.” Derek said pulling Penelope off you.   

“Oh, my bed sounds fantastic!” she said excitedly, letting Derek lead her off.   

“We better get going too, your momma can’t stay all night.” Will mentions to JJ.   

“Bye Spence, bye Y/N!” JJ waved goodbye.   

Spencer turned to look at you, and you’re still swaying a bit. Spencer wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady and starts to lead you back toward the subway.   

“Come on, let’s get you home.”   

You immediately leaned your head on his shoulder wrapping your own arm around him to keep yourself balanced.   

“You’re my favorite person Spencer.” you murmured as they walked down the street.   

He chuckled softly, “You’re mine too.”   

“No, no, I’m serious.” you said your words a bit slurred.  

“I know.” he said softly.   

You looked up at him, your eyes furrowed, “No, you don’t.” you said it a bit more seriously. “You’ve done more for me than I can explain.” you whispered.   

Spencer paused and gently moved his free hand to press you closer to him, petting your head. “I think it’s the other way around.” He murmured into your hair.   

The two stand there, your face pressed into Spencer’s shoulder for a while. It takes a cold breeze to make the two of you separate.  

“Let’s get you home before you catch a cold.” he whispered, gently moving you forward again.  

You just nodded, looking at your feet as they walked, trying to hide your flushed face.   

Thanksgiving   

Thanksgiving was always awkward. You only remember Thanksgiving being fun when you were between five and ten. After your mother cheated, Thanksgiving had been... rough. To put it politely.   

Even after your parents' divorce, they would still try to get together for Thanksgiving, but something tends to always go wrong.   

There was the year you refused to come out of your room because you didn’t want to see your mother. So, Bridget tried to feed you under the bedroom door. Then there was the year that Bridget got food poisoning because their mom didn’t cook the chicken breast for Bridget all the way through. That one was rough. She was eleven and violently puking for three days straight. Or the year that Lauren brought her new boyfriend over. He had tried to make Bridget and you call him dad while Big Joe was sitting right there.   

Thanksgiving has just not been their Holiday.   

This year you had invited Spencer. He wasn’t going to Vegas to see his mother until Christmas, and he was just going to spend it alone. You offered for him to just spend it with you and Big Joe, it was always just the two of them recently. So, it wasn’t a big deal. Just a chill lunch, watch the parade on the tv, and send Spencer off with leftovers.   

At least, that was your plan.   

You're in the kitchen with Spencer, cutting veggies for the stuffing when the doorbell rings. You stand straight looking at Spencer in surprise.   

“I’ll get it!” You shout to your dad, walking briskly to the door.   

Upon opening the door, you see your baby sister. It’s such a shock it takes you a second to register what’s happening.  

“Birdie?” You blinked in confusion and rubbed your eyes trying to see if you were seeing things.   

“Happy Thanksgiving!” Bridget’s boyfriend, Jamie, says excitedly and leans in to give a hug.  

“Oh!” Jamie wraps you in a massive hug, squeezing you tightly. “I’m so happy to finally meet you and Bridget’s dad!”   

You looked at him a little puzzled before turning to Bridget. “I thought,” You sighed trying to even your breathing. “I thought you were spending the holidays with Lauren again?”   

Bridget just shrugged, “Changed my mind. Now can we go in, it’s freezing out here.”   

You step aside to let them in and are bewildered that your sister even showed up. You make your way through the living room and stand next to your dad in his wheelchair. His eyes were half closed, a light snore as the television played the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.   

“Daddy, daddy wake up. Birdie’s home.” You whispered.   

Big Joe jolts a bit and grumbles, “I wasn’t asleep.”   

“Sure, you weren’t daddy.” You patted your dad’s shoulder. “Anyway, Birdie’s here with her boyfriend Jamie.” You said making Big Joe look over at the two standing awkwardly in the doorway.   

His face breaks into a grin, “Well, come in Pidgeon, no need to be shy.” He struggles to sit up a little straighter in his chair.   

You look over at your sister and Jamie. Her boyfriend is all smiles, you swore if he had a tail, it would be wagging. Jamie walks over to shake your dad’s hand and introduce himself.   

Bridget on the other hand, has her feet planted firmly to the floor. Unmoving. You watched her closely and saw just how pale Bridget was as she looked at their dad. She hadn’t seen their dad in a long time. She mostly just called, if that, but this was the first time in maybe two years that Bridget was standing in the same room as her father.   

You look back at Jamie and her dad as they chatter. You see how thin her dad’s gotten. It’s not news to you, nothing about his health was. They were already on borrowed time, your dad truly beating the odds. As you look over at your baby sister, you realize that the last time Bridget saw their dad he could still walk easily. He only barely needed the wheelchair for bad days.  

Bridget was in shock.  

“Y/N! I need some help back here!” Spencer comes around the corner from the kitchen, covered in flour. He’s holding his hands up like he’s innocent.   

“Oh, good god, Spencer, bless your heart. I’m coming!” you told him shooing him off back to the kitchen.   

You go to Bridget and nudge her, “Birdie you and Jamie can keep daddy entertained right? I’m still cooking.”  

Bridget just nodded slowly making her way over to the couch.   

You sighed and went back into the kitchen.   

“Spencer, I said to add a little flour to make a rue... not a half cup.” you laughed looking at him.   

Spencer cleaned his hands with a small rag and looked over at you with a displeased frown.  

“I need exact measurements, not... your southern shorthand.” He murmured.  

You rolled your eyes and looked at the pot that was supposed to be your rue for the macaroni and cheese. You see the powder in the pot and shake your head.   

“Southern shorthand’s about to make the best food you’ve ever eaten.” you told him with a raised brow.  

“Grab me a clean one please. This one can go in the sink.” you point over to under the counter.   

Spencer easily does that and moves to cutting and peeling potatoes.   

“Was that your sister?” he asked.  

You hummed in acknowledgement. “Yup.” you said with a pop of the P.   

“Isn’t it a good thing she’s here?” he asked tentatively.  

You sighed, “I mean,” you leaned back on your heels biting the inside of your cheek. “Yes. It is good. I just...” you turned to face him.   

“Spencer, you didn’t see her face. It was like she didn’t recognize him.” you hissed in a whisper.   

Spencer paused on peeling the potatoes and gave you a deadpan look. “Because she didn’t. When was the last time she really saw him?”  

You paused, “When daddy could still walk on his own... She's only seen him in the chair once.” you sighed heavily.  

Spencer moved closer to you and held your arms in reassurance, “She’s in shock. Just, give her some time.” He offered.   

You nodded and rolled your sleeves up, “I’m just gonna focus on cooking right now.”  

By the time you and Spencer finish everything the parade is over, and your sister has set up the small dining table. You and Spencer slowly bring out the food and your dad rolls himself up to the head of the table.   

“What do you want to eat dad?” You asked him after everything was placed on the table.   

“Everything, it’s Thanksgiving! I could eat a horse.” he said with a hearty laugh.   

You shook your head at your dad but filled his plate. After you set his plate in front of him, everyone else builds a plate for themselves.   

“Magpie, you still make homemade cranberry sauce?” Bridget asked, eying the small plate.   

You nodded, “Yeah, you never liked the canned stuff.” you replied like it was obvious you’d make it the way she liked.   

“I haven’t had Thanksgiving with y’all in years...” Bridget said.   

You just shrugged. “It’s not that hard; besides, I’ve gotten so used to making it.”   

Bridget bit her tongue. You and her dad hate cranberry sauce. Bridget was the only one who ate it. You don’t have to tell her you made it every year with the hope she’d come.  

“Well, it’s the first time I have both my girls here, so let me say grace just this once.” Big Joe said with a smile.   

Everyone nodded and closed their eyes.   

“Dear lord, thank you for this meal. Thank you for blessin’ me with daughters who care so much. Thank you for providin’ them with such kind folk who care for them like I do. Please bless us today with the kindness and health to go on another year, amen.”  

Big Joe smiles at his daughters and motions for them to eat. “C’mon let’s not let this go to waste.”   

Their family meal was awkward.   

You and Bridget flank the sides of their dad and Spencer and Jamie sit across from each other. The men trying to keep polite conversation while you and Bridget just stare at each other.   

“This meals good Magpie, better than mom ever makes.” Bridget complimented.   

“Well mom barely ever really cooks. I’m sure she just catered.” You bite back.   

Spencer moves his hand to grip yours under the table. You sighed, “Thanks though, I try.”  

Bridget turned to her boyfriend giving him a look that said, ‘I told you so.’   

Jamie coughs, “So, you run a bookstore?” he asked.   

You nod, “Yeah, I co-own it with a friend of mine. Part bookstore part cafe.”  

“It’s a great shop, my favorite in town.” Spencer added.   

You snorted, “You just say that cause I give you free coffee.”  

“Oh, is that where you two meet? That’s romantic, a warm cozy book nook.” Jamie asked leaning forward.   

Your and Spencer’s faces both burn deep burgundy colors.   

“No no-”  

“It’s not like that-”   

“We’re not dating-”  

“He’s my best friend we’re not-”   

You start talking over each other going back and forth. Finally, they both just shut up.   

“We’re friends. He’s not my boyfriend.” You finally said, avoiding Spencer’s eyes.  

“Oh, I’m so sorry, we just assumed-” Bridget slammed her elbow into her boyfriend's side.   

“Sorry.”  

It’s an awkward meal.   

After everyone eats Spencer and Jamie clean the table, rinsing off the dishes and loading them in the dishwasher. You and Bridget bring the leftovers into the kitchen, placing them on the counter.   

“Can we talk?” Bridget asked with a nervous look.   

You nod, unsure of what your sister wants to discuss. Bridget coughed looking at the two men, “Alone .”  

“Ohhhhhhhhh.” Jamie and Spencer quickly make themselves scarce to leave the sisters alone.  

Bridget moves to start packing up the leftover food. A nervous habit she picked up from their mother, she had to do something with her hands. You go to help her, trying to make whatever conversation this turns into less awkward.   

“We need to talk about daddy.” Bridget whispered.   

“We or you?” You asked with a raised brow.  

Bridget sighed and looked at you, “I’m trying to have a serious conversation here.”  

“Really? Because as I remember it, I’ve been trying to have a serious conversation with you about this for a while. The last time we discussed this you told me ‘Fuck you.’” you replied with a fake smile.   

Bridget sighed and stared holes into the food she was packing into the glass Tupperware.   

“I was scared ! No one wants to think about their dad dying!” She tried to say with a strained voice, her movement becoming more aggressive.   

You slam your hands on the counter, “And you don’t think I’m scared Bridget?! I’m fucking terrified everyday I’m gonna wake up and find that he didn’t!”   

You're breathing heavily, trying to stop the burning you feel at the corners of your eyes, you know yelling isn’t helpful right now, but it feels right.  

“You chose to take care of him, he’d be better off with a full-time team! You are such a miserable bitch sometimes!” Bridget yelled right back.   

Bridget’s anger has always been fierce and loud. While yours has always been passive. You can’t stand her trying to lecture you right now.  

“I’d rather be a miserable bitch than a fucking coward who can’t even look daddy in the eyes.” You bite back.   

Bridget throws her hands up, “You know what? Have a great fucking Thanksgiving. I’m not doing this right now.”   

You crossed her arms, “Run away, like always.” you murmured under your breath glaring at the floor.  

Bridget took a deep breath before turning toward her older sister, “I am trying. It might not be when or how you wanted, but I am trying.”  

You didn’t respond expect for a flinch when you heard the front door slam behind her sister.  

You stood alone in the kitchen and leaned over the sink.  

“Magpie...”   

You sigh, your dad’s tone tells you something's weighing on his heart, and you know it’s about Bridget.   

You take a deep breath and try not to break into a sob. “Daddy-” your voice shook.  

“Don’t hate her, Bridget isn’t like you.” Big Joe tells you, his voice gentle.   

You are very aware that the walls are thin, and your dad heard you argue with Bridget., hell, everyone heard your argument with Bridget. That doesn’t make it any less hurtful or true.   

“I don’t hate her; I just hate how she ignored you for so long and just-” you paused looking up. “It’s not fair.”  

“What’s not fair?” Big Joe rolled closer. He was using his soft dad voice, and it was the straw that broke your back.  

Your lower lip started to shake, and you could feel the hot tears running down your face.   

“All of it! None of it is fair, why... why did you have to be the one who’s sick?” you sobbed.   

He grabbed your hands and held them tightly. “Magpie, the world’s not fair. No one made me sick, it just, it happens.”   

“You’re my dad... I’m not ready to give you up.” you hiccupped through your tears.  

Big Joe moves to stand on his shaky legs, he wraps you in a tight hug. You can feel how much smaller he’s gotten. The muscle deteriorating in his body.   

He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. Okay? I’ve been beating the odds, right? I can keep going.” He told you.  

He pulled back to brush away your tears, “Don’t be mad at your sister... When I do go, you’ll have each other, you should take care.” he said.   

“Bridget’s not cut me out of her life Magpie, she calls me every day when I’m in the doctor’s office.” He reassured you.   

Your eyes widen, “She does?” You’re surprised.   

Big Joe nods. “We don’t talk about the doctor’s visits or anything, but she calls every day, and we catch up. I know too much about Jamie by the way; he’s a chatty Cathy...”   

“I didn’t know that.” you said with a frown.   

Your dad shrugged, “I didn’t think it was important. It obviously was, you’ve been holding too much in Magpie.” he said softly.   

You looked down a bit embarrassed. “You don’t have to bear the weight of the world on your shoulders... you’ve been doin’ that since you were thirteen. It’s not your job; your job is to live your life.”  

You nodded, rubbing your face to dry the tears.   

“Why don’t you go out with that nice friend of yours? I’ll be just fine right here.” He said referring to Spencer in the living room.   

“Oh god, Spencer.” you sighed covering your face, “I look awful...”   

Her dad chuckled, “He won’t mind. Now go on and get.” He grumbled.   

You give a soft laugh, “You just want to watch the game in peace.” you said knowingly.   

“Hell yeah, I do, you never liked football. I don’t know who raised you.” he joked, wheeling himself into the living room.  

You follow behind him and into the living room. Spencer’s pacing circles in front of the couch. He only stops when he hears them come in.   

“We’ve been kicked out.” you joked. You grab your coat and your purse, “Dad wants to watch the football game, and I have no interest in that.” you told him seeing Spencer’s confused face.   

He nodded and grabbed his own coat, “Happy Thanksgiving Joe.”  

Your dad nodded, “That’s Big Joe to you boy.” He teased Spencer.   

You rolled your eyes and walked out with Spencer following behind. Outside the front door you felt Spencer gently grab your arm.   

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.   

You swallowed hard, “I’ve been better...” you murmured. “but I should probably apologize to Birdie for grilling her like that." You bite your cheek in thought.  

Spencer shrugged, “You don’t have too immediately. It takes two to fight.”   

You snort, “You’re the best, you know that?” you said moving to wrap your arm around him as they walked.   

Spencer easily slides his own arm around your waist, “I’ve been told a time or two.” he responded smugly.   

You rolled your eyes, ���Okay okay, remind me to not boost your ego again.”   

Spencer looked down at you and smiled softly. Your eyes were still rimmed red from crying, but you looked better than when you had come out of the kitchen. Spencer could hear the argument between the two sisters vividly. The walls of the apartment where thin and the animosity between the two women had been brewing all afternoon. They were bound to explode.   

He rubs soothing circles into your back. He knows you’ll work it out. You're too bright to be dimmed so easily.   

Christmas   

Christmas morning was always fun. The past couple of years it’s been hard. It’s just been you and Big Joe, and honestly it just reminded you how lonely you were. Thanksgiving was always awkward, but Christmas has always been fun. Even when your mother was visiting, you still found some joy at Christmas. Now? You just longed for one where it wasn’t just the two of them.   

There was going to be a Christmas that would just be you... you weren’t ready for that.   

You missed baking cookies, trying to make gingerbread houses with Bridget, and curling in front of the fireplace wrapped in a million blankets watching those 70’s claymation holiday specials. You and Bridget’s giggles filling the living room as you slept in a fort made from couch cushions and sheets.  

You missed being a family.   

You sighed and turned the oven on, getting ready to make a small turkey for you and Big Joe. You had other food to still prep, and you were ready to just give up and order a pizza.   

Halfway through boiling the eggs you heard a loud knock.   

“Magpie were you expectin’ that friend of yours?” Her dad shouted.  

You wipe your hands off and pokes your head into the living room, “No... I think he went to Vegas to visit his momma.” you said, walking toward the door.   

“Surely to god it’s not a solicitor on Christmas?” you asked.   

You open the door and see Bridget and Jamie. You stand there a little surprised. You hadn’t talked to her since Thanksgiving when they had a massive blow out argument.   

“Y/N! Merry Christmas!” Jamie exclaimed holding what looked to be a pie in his hands. His smile was genuine as it reached his eyes.   

“Merry Christmas Jamie...” you said in surprise.   

Jamie walked past her but not before making a face at Bridget.  

“Merry Christmas Big Joe!” Jamie’s voice carried off into the room.   

Bridget’s holding a bag and looks embarrassed to be standing in front of you.  

“I brought a peace offering...” Bridget said passing the bag over to you.   

You raised your brow in question but opened the bag anyway.   

Inside were two gingerbread house kits and a champagne bottle.   

“I thought we could, maybe, try to bring back an old tradition...” She murmured looking at you hopefully.   

“Birdie-” You started but she cuts you off.   

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak out at Thanksgiving...I just... I’ve been trying so hard to think that daddy was gonna be just fine.” Bridget’s voice cracks.   

“I- I can’t picture that the strongest person I know has to be rolled around in a chair, ya know?” she said, her voice watery as she tried to blink back her tears.   

“Daddy’s sick Bridget. He’s already lasted longer than most, but...” you took a deep shaky breath of your own. “We only have a little time left with him.” you whispered.   

“I know.” Bridget said firmly. “I’m gonna show up.” she promised.  

You look down at the gingerbread houses and back at your baby sister. You pulled Birdie into a tight hug.   

“Better late than never.” You whispered.   

“I missed this.” Bridget said holding onto her sister.  

“I missed you Birdie.”  

The two sisters walk into the apartment together. You set the bag down under the tree.   

“I’m cooking if you want to help?” You asked her.   

“Ohhhhhh no. I don’t cook. I’m awful- you want Jamie.” Bridget said pointing to her boyfriend.  

Jamie stands and mock salutes you, “Sous chef reporting for duty!”   

You rolled your eyes and motions for him to follow you.  

While Jamie’s in the kitchen, it makes the task so much faster for you. Faster than even when Spencer helped her. Jamie clearly knew how to cook and obviously made meals for your sister. The two busted out the mashed potatoes and deviled eggs easily. What would have taken you half of the morning and afternoon took you and Jamie just the morning to finish. It was great to have an extra pair of hands that knew what they were doing.  

When you put the rolls in the oven to bake, you notice Jamie’s hand fidgeting in his pocket.   

Now that you thought of it, his hand was constantly shooting down to check that he still had whatever it was in his pocket.   

“If ya got a ring in there for Birdie, I’d suggest being less obvious.” you joked with a light laugh.  

Jamie freezes and his face erupts into a bright red shade, “How... how did you know?” He stuttered out.   

Your brows shoot up as you whip around to face Jamie. You look between him and the doorway and don’t hear anything to suggest Bridget heard them.   

“I was joking!” you hissed out. “You’re serious?”   

“Of course I’m serious! I love Bridget.” he whispered to you. “I wanted to propose with her family there, but it was either you guys or Lauren, and Bridget is fighting with her right now.”   

“They’re fighting?” You asked in quiet surprise.   

Jamie nodded, “Bridget called her after Thanksgiving and I don’t know much, but it was a screaming match over the phone.”   

You make a face. “Sounds like mom.”   

Jamie nodded in agreement.   

“Well, let me see it!” you demanded, holding your hand out.  

Jamie rolled his eyes but fished out the small box and handed it to you. You excitedly opened the box, and your eyes lit up. You passed the small velvet box back to Jamie.   

“I think she’ll love it.” you said with a genuine smile. “So, are you proposing today?”   

He nodded. Your face beams. “I’m so excited for you guys. Truly.”   

“Just gotta find the right time.” He said holding the box tightly.  

“There’s never a perfect time... just maybe do it before me and Birdie start building gingerbread houses.” You suggested.  

“Why?” Jamie tilted his head in confusion.   

“Because she brought champagne and we’re light weights.” you patted Jamie’s arm.   

“Go on in the living room, I’ll finish up and get ready to serve soon.” You offered.  

Jamie nodded and smiled, “You’re a good sister.”   

You shrugged, “Not really, but appreciate the sentiment.” you teased.  

Dinner goes wonderfully. Much better than Thanksgiving. You serve everyone their food and the conversations are lively and exciting.   

“Your momma called me,” Big Joe said turning to Bridget.   

Bridget freezes, like she used to as a kid who was caught, and she looks up at her dad.   

“What about?” she asked.   

Her dad gave her a pointed look, “You’re fightin’?”   

Bridget rolled her eyes. “I got into it with her, it doesn’t matter.”   

“She said you were fightin’ about me.” She sighed and looked at her dad.   

“Well, what she neglected to tell you daddy, was she was trying to tell me how to take care of you. As if she knows anything more than Magpie does.” Bridget said stabbing her turkey aggressively.   

Their dad nodded, “She did not tell me that part.”   

“Sounds like Lauren...” You murmured shoving potatoes into your mouth.   

Bridget gives you a pointed look, “Please, I don’t want to argue over mom right now.”   

You put your hands up in surrender. “I won’t. My lips are sealed.”   

After dinner they transferred to the living room and finally do a gift exchange. There weren’t a lot of presents, just a handful for each other. Plus, the gifts you made for your friends.   

You already got your gift from Bridget, but you gave her a present. It was homemade cookies that were Bridget’s favorite as a kid. You got Josie to bake them for her.   

“This is my apology for Thanksgiving...I shouldn’t have cornered you.” You said softly.   

You smiled at your sister and Bridget went to wrap you in a hug.   

Bridget and you both had a few presents from your dad, all of which were cute and sentimental.   

Finally, Jamie gets ready to give Bridget his present. He hands Bridget her gift and it’s a beautiful print of the night sky and stars the day they met. While Bridget’s too busy looking at the print and getting teary eyes, Jamie drops to his knee.   

He doesn’t even get the words out before Bridget immediately breaks into a sob.   

Jamie gives a soft laugh, “Bridget Daniels, will you marry me?”   

Bridget nods aggressively and throws herself at Jamie. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. “I had a whole speech prepared but then you started crying.” He chuckled into her neck.   

“You know I’m a crier!” she blubbered, fat tears rolling down her face.   

Jamie just laughed and pressed a kiss to her cheek.   

You were filming the whole time on your phone the second Jamie gave Bridget her first gift.   

“Congratulations!”   

“Well, what a good excuse to pop open the champagne you brought!” You teased pulling the bottle from the gift bag.   

Bridget gasped, “Oh yes! Grab it!”   

A few hours later you are three glasses deep in champagne and are trying to delicately place gumdrops strategically on the roof of your gingerbread house.   

Bridget’s also three glasses in and keeps giggling as she looks down at her hand.  

“Biiiiiiiiiirdie!” You drawl out looking over at your sister and her half-built house.   

“Stop gigglin’ about your mushy love life and build! I don’t want to win because you half assed it!” You pout, sending a playful glare at your sister.   

Bridget stuck her tongue out at you, “Magpie don’t be ugly. I’m two sheets to the wind and you know it!” Bridget said her accent seeping out of every syllable.   

You just laughed loudly, snorting, “We’re both two sheets to the wind!”   

The two are rolling on the floor filled with giggles. Jamie is sitting on the couch next to Big Joe in his chair just smiling at his fiancé.   

“I haven’t seen them this giddy since they were only up to my knee.” Big Joe said with a gruff chortle.   

“I told her to just apologize... Bridget’s so stubborn. She won’t ever admit that she looks up to her sister, but she spends a lot of time talking about her. Especially after that bank robbery she was in...”   

Big Joe nodded; a scowl crosses his face at the memory of the bank robbery. “That was the worst day of my life.”   

Big Joe turned to look at Jamie, “Did you know that boy from Thanksgiving is an FBI agent? He saved her.”   

Jamie’s eyes grow big as saucers. “What?”   

Big Joe nodded, “He saved my baby girl. I’ll always remember that.”   

Jamie grows quiet thinking it over, “...and they aren’t dating?”   

“Nope.”   

You and Bridget are back to working on the gingerbread houses, with deadly focus as they build. Your hands are shaking as you pipe icing for decoration on your house. Bridget is holding her breath as she places small colored candy pieces as fake lights.   

“Are you decorating the yard?” You asked her. You're looking at the cardboard base with laser focus.   

“I want to make a snow man, so yes.” Bridget replied.   

You sighed. “Fine I guess I’ll do something...” you pause biting your cheek in thought.   

You ruffled through the bag of candy and came across the Sour Patch Kids. You gasp in excitement and start putting the small child shaped gummies all over the base.   

Bridget looked over and pouted, “Hey! Those were for us to eat not decorate!” she whined.  

You rolled your eyes, “Birdie don’t get your panties in a twist- here I only grabbed three!” you said, handing over the bag to your sister.   

Bridget frowned, “Liar you used like, ten.” She said flipping you off.   

“I’ll eat them! It’s my share.” You exclaimed with a sigh.  

Bridget shoved the candy in her mouth, “You better, these are expensive.” She mumbled with her mouth full.   

Before you can respond there’s a knock on the door. You bolt up and go to answer. Still tipsy you wobbled a bit before standing straight. You open the door, and your eyes widen as you see Spencer on the doorstep.   

Your face is flushed from the champagne, and you’ve thrown a garland around yourself like a scarf, you looked a little ridiculous. Not to mention the remains of broken candy and frosting on you.   

“Merry Christmas.” He said, Spencer’s eyes slowly roam your form, and an amused smile formed on his face.   

You tried to wipe off whatever remains of the gingerbread house were on you, “Merry Christmas Spencer. I didn’t know you were coming by?” you said flustered.   

Spencer shrugged, “I couldn’t make it out to see my mom this year, I’m not staying long though.” He said turning to pull something from his satchel.   

You stand in the doorway wringing your hands and tilt your head in curiosity.   

“Here!” he exclaimed, finding what he was looking for, he handed over a small, wrapped gift to you.  

You gently grabbed the present from him, “I have yours inside- I can go grab it real quick.” you offered.  

Spencer shakes his head, “No it’s okay. Open yours first.”   

You can see how eager he is, so you do as he requested. You gently peel the wrapping paper off and it’s a jewelry box. You opened it and gasped seeing inside.  

“Oh wow... Spencer...” you whispered, the breath knocked out of you as you looked at the gift.   

It could be the champagne, or it could be that you are quick to cry, but your eyes well up with tears brimming and ready to fall.   

“You don’t like it-” He whispered as he moved to grab the box.   

You pull back away from him. You cradled your gift close, “No, Spencer this is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever got me.” your voice cracked as you looked up at him, your tears falling.   

You tried to wipe them away, “Sorry-” you hiccupped, “I’m a little drunk.”  

Spencer just smiled at you.   

“God, now your present sucks in comparison.” you murmured looking at the beautiful necklace he gave you.   

Spencer snorts, “It’s not a contest.”   

You rolled your eyes and grabbed the necklace, turning your back to him.   

“Will you help me put it on?” you asked quietly.  

Spencer comes up behind you and his hands gently grab the silver chain. His hands are warm in comparison to the cold metal touching your skin. His touch is feather light as he focuses on clipping your necklace. His breath tickles the nape of your neck, and it sends a shiver through your body.   

“Sorry, it’s been out in the cold.” Spencer said, thinking your full body shiver was from the metal.   

You don’t reply, not trusting yourself. He fumbles for a moment, but the necklace is on. A beautiful magpie feather pendant rests against your collarbone.   

You turned back to him and tilted your head. “How... where did you even get this?” you asked holding the pendant in your hand.   

“It’s a long story, but I've been looking for a magpie present for a while.” You looked down at the ground with a shy smile.   

“I mean, that’s what your family calls you right? Magpie.” He whispered.   

You smiled, “It’s special...for me and Birdie.” she murmured quietly.   

“I thought so.” He replied softly, “I finally saw that in a store a while ago and it just, it made sense to me.” He said softly.   

You looked up at him and gave a tiny smile, “Thank you Spencer, this was really sweet.” you pushed up on your tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek.   

“Wait right here, let me grab your gift.” you told him.   

You don’t see how red Spencer’s face is.   

You quickly rush inside and grab Spencer’s gift from under the tree. Bridget and Jamie are nowhere to be found but you can hear idle chatter in the kitchen.   

“Magpie,” You turned to see your dad looking at you expectantly.   

You tilted your head, “What is it daddy?”   

“That boy, the one at my front door,” He started.   

Spencer. Big Joe was talking about Spencer. You bite your lip. There’s too much alcohol in you right now to have whatever conversation this is. Not to mention Spencer’s probably freezing.   

“Spencer?” You asked for clarification.   

“Yes! Him... Magpie, are you in love with him?” He asked.   

You almost choke. You start coughing and look at your dad with wide eyes.  

“Where did that come from?!” you exclaimed.   

“Now, I ain’t stupid. I might be sick, but I got perfectly working eyes.” he said with a frown.   

You sputter for a second, “What makes you think that? He’s my best friend.” you cross your arms defensively.  

“Y/N.” Big Joe said sternly, giving his daughter a firm look. “I’ve seen how you look at that boy.”   

“Daddy,” you sighed. “I don’t have time to date- I have the store and you-”  

“Don’t use me as an excuse to not live your life, Magpie.” he said softly. Her dad reached out to hold your hand.   

You took a shaky breath, “Daddy- I can’t, I have to go give him this present. I can’t do this right now.”  

“I’ve seen how he looks at you, friends don’t look at each other like you two do.”  

You go silent and bite your lip. You look down at the gift in your hands, “I think I do... but I don’t know if I’m ready.” you whispered.   

Big Joe motions for you to bend down, opening his arms for a hug. You set Spencer’s gift over to the side and wrap your arms around your dad.   

“If you’re gonna fall in love with anyone, I’m glad it’s him.” He whispered as he hugged you tight.   

You pulled back and gave a sniffle, trying not to cry anymore.   

“I have to go, he’s probably freezing.” you told your dad, grabbing Spencer’s gift before walking back outside.  

You quickly rushed back to the door, Spencer still standing there, hands in his pockets.   

“Sorry, dad stopped me.” you said, handing him a box.   

Spencer nodded and gently opened the box. He pulled out a small diorama that was the size of a book. It was Sherlock Holmes apartment.   

“It’s for your bookshelf. It’s like a little decoration. I thought Sherlock would be perfect.” you said softly.  

“This is perfect, thank you.” He whispered looking at the details.   

“There are a few loose items that are still in the box. Once you set it up it’ll look great.” you added.   

Spencer put his gift back in the box and looked at you with a warm fondness that took your breath away for a moment. You’re still tipsy and feel warm all over and he’s looking at you with those big hazel doe eyes that have mesmerized you.   

“Stop looking at me like that...” you murmured, your hand playing with the magpie charm on your neck.   

Spencer chuckled, “Like what?” he tilted his head.   

You frowned, “Like, I don’t know, your big puppy eyes... like I’m doing something special.”   

Spencer tilted his head and stepped closer, “You are special.”  

Your face heats up in a flush, “Merry Christmas.” He pulled you into a quick hug before turning to leave.   

“Merry Christmas...” you murmured watching him leave.   

You lean against the door when you come back inside and cover your face.   

You heard murmured whispers from the living room and giggles.   

“He’s cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute.” Bridget’s voice drifts toward you in a high-pitched tone.   

“What are you? Twelve?!” You groaned walking back into the living room.   

“Mmmmm maybe?” Bridget said with a giggle and threw her arms around you.   

You rolled your eyes and tried to stop the flush from creeping down your body. 

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Skira - Part One

Author's Note: When I decided to join in on @beefrobeefcal's Glandalorian 2024 challenge (which was putting Din Djarin in a gladiatorial setting, including a specific phrase, and somehow referencing Dieter Bravo) I thought, foolishly, that I could write a quick little one shot. Well, first, admittedly, I thought I was nuts for wanting to do this because I've struggled with writing lately and because I never feel super confident writing Din. But after I reconciled with the fact that I had indeed lost my mind, I thought this would be brief. It's not. And I'm not sorry. I am, however, thankful for this challenge, because it absolutely helped get the creative juices flowing again! This part is truly just a set up for what's to come, and doesn't directly have any of the prompts in it - but I can promise you that they will show up in part two (posting Friday, Nov. 29th!)

Word Count: 4,248

Warnings: canon-typical violence

Summary: Skira is Mando'a for revenge - with a personal edge.

Nevarro 

You stared out the window of the cabin, watching the crisp, clean bed sheets you’d been hanging on the clothesline flap and flutter in the dry breeze. The woven laundry basket you’d used to carry them had fallen over on its side, another still-damp sheet spilling out onto the ashy ground. A frown drew your lips downward as you focused on the dark gray smudges that the previously clean linen had already collected. Well, that one’s ruined. 

Maybe it was silly, having a thought like that in a situation like the one you were in. But it was all you could do to keep the panic from overtaking you, so you honed in on the mundane, frown deepening. I wanted them to be clean for when he came home, but now-

THUD! 

The slam of a tightly balled fist on the table in front of you made you gasp and jump, your head whipping around to face the threat you’d been trying to block out.

“Answer the karking question, poppet.” The Abyssin sneered at you from across the table. His oversized thugs hovered behind him, their hands resting on the holsters of their blasters to remind you that all it would take was one word from their boss and you’d be done for. 

Like I need reminding. 

The tip of your tongue slid across your split lower lip, finding a trickle of blood from where you’d caught a backhand when you were trying to escape the strangers who had attacked your home. You knew quite well what men like them were capable of. Their little show of power was unnecessary. You’d been acutely aware of the danger you were in from the moment they appeared on the property. That didn’t mean that you wanted to give them the satisfaction of showing them any fear, though. 

You swallowed and put all of your effort into keeping your voice even as you blinked at your captor. “Sorry, I was distracted by…” You lifted one hand to point at the discarded sheets, the binders around your wrists forcing the other hand to rise with it. Shaking your head, you sighed. “Can you repeat your question?” 

The Abbysin, who had introduced himself to you as Kol Karesh while his men had dragged you by your bound wrists and dumped you into the chair you were sitting in, growled in frustration. “The Mandalorian,” he hissed, palms flat against the table as he leaned across it to get closer to you. “Where is the Mandalorian that killed my brother?” 

Furrowing your brow, you decided to make your only move - a bluff. “Mandalorian?” You shook your head in question, doubling down on your gamble. “I… I think you’ve got the wrong place. Maybe even the wrong planet. I’ve never even seen-” 

Your lie was cut short when the gruff gangster’s meaty hand shot across the table to snatch the pendant hanging from your neck. He gave it a sharp yank, tugging you down so that your face came within a hair of hitting the table’s edge. You let out a yelp, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Don’t play games with me, sweetheart.” Reaching behind you with his other hand, Kol snapped the leather string and came away with it. You picked your head up as soon as you could, your heart sinking as you watched the beskar Mudhorn charm dangle from his grip. “I know what this is. And I know who gave it to you.” He dropped the pendant and it landed on the table, your eyes glued to the shape of the signet as you fought to hold back tears. “And I know that if you won’t tell me where he is…” You looked up, and the grin that filled the Abyssin’s pause made your stomach turn. “I can use you to make him come to me.” 

The goons crowding your small kitchen laughed at that, Karesh turning towards them to join in. But he spun back around as you spoke, none of the feigned naivete remaining in your voice. 

“Are you sure you want that?” It was your turn to let out a small chuckle even as you lost the battle and a lone tear slipped past your eyelid. “You must really miss your brother if you’re so eager to join him.” You laughed again, and you could tell the sound of it - along with what you were saying - was getting to Karesh from the way his face fell into a scowl. “He’s going to kill you. You know that?” You leaned to the left so you could see around your captor to make eye contact with his men. “All of you.” 

Karesh just clicked his tongue. “You underestimate me. See, I’ve got a plan.” He stepped around to your side of the table to give your cheek a pat, the contact making you flinch. “As long as I’ve got you, I’m in charge. I’ve made a lot of money by figuring out how to control people. The key,” he said, crossing his arms over his belly, “Is in pinpointing their weakness.” He jerked his chin down at the table, at the pendant Din gave you when he asked you to be his, and then looked back at you. “You’re the Mandalorian’s weakness. And that’s why you’re coming with us, poppet.” 

With that, he barked orders to his henchmen, and you were hauled out of the cabin and thrown on the back of a speeder. 

“Don’t even think about trying to run.” The biggest of Kol’s men, a heavily tattooed Quarren with a scar digging through one side of his face, sneered down at you from beside the speeder. You followed the movement of his hand as he used it to tap his holster again. “Boss just said I gotta get you back to his place alive.” The gnarled tentacles surrounding his mouth fluttered as he blew air through them in a humorless snort. “Didn’t say I couldn’t blast your kneecaps, though. So don’t make me have’ta do that. Understand?” 

Running would have been pointless anyway. The town was too far to reach on foot before nightfall, and the lava flats were prime reptavian hunting grounds after dark. Maybe you’d have a chance if you had a weapon. But bound and unarmed? It was a fool’s mission and you knew it. 

You gave him a curt nod, upper lip curled in disgust as you turned your head to look back at the cabin. What is he still doing in there? Karesh had yet to come outside, and your stomach turned at the thought of that scum inside your home. But then his squat shape filled the door frame and he strode smugly to where you and his crew were waiting. 

“Just had to take care of one last thing.” He climbed onto the back of the second speeder. “Needed to make sure the Mandalorian gets my invitation.” Kol stared directly at you as he continued. “And that he knows what will happen if he declines it.” 

At that, he laughed, shouting to his men to get to the ship, and then the speeders revved up and you were in motion. You kept your eyes on the fluttering white sheets until they shrunk from view. Silent, angry tears burned tracks down your cheeks as one thought repeated in your mind. 

He’ll come for me. 

You’d never been more sure of anything in your life. 

He’ll come for me. And they’ll be sorry. 

– – – 

Mandalore

“Okay, kid. We’re coming up on Mandalore. You remember the landing sequence I taught you back on Garel?” 

Din’s focus shifted from the steel gray planet outside the viewport, to the child in his lap. A pair of big, green ears flopped with the nod of Grogu’s head, a confident “patu” accompanying the movement. Removing one clawed hand from the steering device, he pointed at the panel that housed the landing controls. 

That’s right. “Go ahead, then,” Din encouraged, a proud smile curving his lips beneath his helmet. “Bring us down.” 

Grogu responded with a squeal of excitement - the same way he had every time he’d been asked to demonstrate what he’d learned on their trip - before he began performing his task. The two of them had been out on a series of training missions to prepare Grogu for his trials, Din mentoring him and teaching him the same things his own father taught him in preparation for the verd’goten. He’s doing a lot better than I did on my first training mission, though. Letting out a satisfied trill when he finished with the controls, Grogu returned his tiny hands to the steering wheel and began piloting the N-1 down through the atmosphere. 

“Go slow,” Din cautioned him, the advice only partially sinking in, as the kid only had two speeds - fast, and asleep. Or don’t. 

Despite the fact that it happened more quickly than was standard for a first time navigator, Grogu managed to set the ship down on the landing platform safely and skillfully. 

“Brreee? Patu! Patu!” The grin that greeted Din when he looked down was as wide as he’d ever seen Grogu wear. Proud of yourself, huh? The kid stood in his lap and turned, placing both hands on the sides of the man’s helmet, delighted giggles bubbling out of him to pull a chuckle from Din’s chest. Good. You should be.

“Good job, Grogu.” Reaching past the kid, he flicked the ignition switch to shut it down. “I’m proud of you.” Those seemed to be the exact words that the kid was waiting for, his whole face lighting up with even more excitement when he heard them. “I’m sure the Armorer will be, too. What do you say we go and tell her all about the things you learned?” 

Grogu nodded vigorously, sending his ears flapping again. “Doo.” Countering with a question of his own, he cocked his head to the side and used one pointed claw to tap at the beskar rondel that he wore, causing Din to let out another chuckle.

“I don’t know, pal, we have to see what she says. You might not be ready for your next piece of armor yet.” His ears drooped slightly at that, the sight sending a surge of affection through Din’s whole being. He wants to earn his helmet so badly. “Hey, it’s okay, buddy. Remember what I told you when we were practicing tracking?” Giving the kid a second to think back to their training mission on Lothal, he paused, waiting for Grogu’s ears to twitch as he found the right memory. “Patience is important. You can’t rush things, or they won’t work out.” Lifting one leather-clad hand, he patted his son’s head. “You’ll earn your armor one piece at a time, just like I did. Then, when the time is right, you’ll have the chance to swear the Creed. And when you do, I’ll be there just like my Buir was.” 

The thought of having his own helmet ceremony - and taking the Creed - seemed to perk Grogu right up. Spinning back towards the controls, he pressed another button before zipping back around to face his father while pointing backwards at the holo-screen that he activated. When he glanced over the kid’s head to see what was displayed, Din felt yet another surge of warmth. It was an image of you and Grogu, the two of you sitting outside the cabin on Nevarro, the little womp rat in your lap and bright grins on both of your faces. 

“That’s right, she’ll be there, too.” Din nodded. “And she’ll be so proud of you, just like I am.” She already is. The fact that you loved and supported Grogu just as much as he did was one of the many things that made Din so sure that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. 

For a long time he doubted that settling down and building a home and a family were in the cards for him. But it wasn’t just that he had spent so many years on his own that gave him pause. It was also because of what those years had been filled with that made him question whether or not a simpler life was even possible for him. Decades of bounty hunting had garnered him countless enemies within the galaxy’s underworld, and from time to time those enemies surfaced. Subjecting a partner or child to the consequences of his past seemed cruel and irresponsible in his mind. Better that he handle those threats as they come the same way he handled the jobs they emerged from. On his own, with no one else at risk. 

All of that changed when the tiny quarry-turned-adoptive son that was sitting in his lap and hanging on his every word came into his life. Din had tried to find the kid a safe place to grow up, to have the sort of childhood that he himself had been denied. He had tried finding others who he felt would be more able to give Grogu a stable, secure home, or who he thought would be better suited to teach the child what he needed to learn. A life on the road, with danger constantly close behind and a man who had closed himself off far more than his armor ever could? That was no life for a kid. That was no environment in which love could thrive. 

Which was exactly why, once Grogu had made his choice clear, Din discarded his former life and began work on this new one. He’d sworn off chasing bounties, dropped out of isolation, tried his hardest to file down his sharp edges, all so that he could give the kid the life he deserved and wanted. And in doing so, he’d met you, and despite the things he previously thought would make him unchoosable, he’d been chosen a second time. 

“Your past doesn’t scare me, Din,” you’d said, when he confided in you about the things that he worried could come back to haunt him and hurt you. You’d laced your fingers with his then, your gaze focused on his shrouded eyes, and even though he knew you couldn’t see through his visor, he felt as though you were looking straight into his heart. “I’m more afraid of a future without you. I know you’ll always keep me safe. And I know that there’s nothing that you and I can’t get through together.” The smile you gave him cracked through the rest of his dwindling reserve before you added - “Well, the two of us and Grogu, of course.” 

He had decided that night that he would do whatever it took to make sure that your fear never came to fruition - and that meant taking you as his riduur. You weren’t Mandalorian, and you had no plans to change that. You weren’t a warrior, you didn’t wear armor, and you had never even held a blaster before he taught you how to use one. But none of that mattered to Din. He loved you for what and who you were. You were brave, and strong, and you made him feel like he deserved the life he was carving out for himself. You were smart, and kind, and you brought warmth to parts of him that he’d thought had frozen over ages ago. And if he could put your fears to rest by joining his life with yours, then he would. Without hesitation. 

Because it’s what I want, too. 

When you said yes, when he saw you wearing the Mudhorn pendant - his sigil, and soon to be yours - for the first time? Between that moment and the one when Grogu had formally become his child, Din had never felt so far from his past as he had then. Every step the three of you had taken since had only put more distance between his former life and the one you were building together. 

The plan was for the two of you to have a small ceremony on Mandalore once Grogu finished the first year of his training - which was quickly coming to an end - and it was nearly impossible to tell which of the three of you was looking forward to that milestone the most. I think it might be me, though. As he helped Grogu down from the cockpit and waved to the armored teens who had been tasked with refueling all incoming ships, he found his mind wandering to the things that would change with the exchanging of vows. 

That your two souls would be joined as one was, of course, the most important aspect, and the one that mattered most to him. But it also meant that he would finally be able to reveal his face to you. It meant that for the first time, you would get to see him - the small shifts of depth and color in his eyes when he smiled or laughed or said your name, the creases that formed between his brows when he was concerned, the twitch of his upper lip when you touched him. It meant removing the only remaining barrier between you. 

It meant being able to give more of himself to you than he’d ever given to anyone. I’ve never wanted that before. But with her I… With you, he wanted everything. 

He hadn’t noticed that he’d been grinning until the call of his name snapped his focus back to the present. “I see that you and your apprentice have returned from your journey.” Turning in the direction of the voice, he saw the Armorer striding towards him and Grogu. 

“We have,” he responded with a nod. Beside him, Grogu’s excitement was almost palpable, the kid practically bouncing from foot to foot. 

“And how did everything go? Did the apprentice complete all of his tasks?” She asked Din but tilted her head down to look at Grogu. 

“He did.” Din glanced down just in time to see a wide, toothy grin split the kid’s face, then met the Armorer’s gaze again. “I think he’s ready for the next level of training.” 

“Hmm!” Grogu hummed in enthusiastic agreement. 

“Is that so?” The Armorer placed her hands on her hips, cocking her head to the side. “In that case, Grogu, we have work to do. There is still much for you to learn before your next set of missions. Are you ready to begin?” Though he knew that Grogu was bursting with excitement, Din watched as the child set his features into a mask of discipline, giving the Armorer a serious nod. “Well then, let us get started.” 

Letting Din know that she would be taking over Grogu’s training for the next few days, the Armorer permitted the child a moment to say goodbye to his father before she took him to join the other Mandalorian apprentices who were ready to advance. 

Stooping down, Din brought himself to his son’s level. “Alright, pal, you know what to do. Listen to what you’re told, and don’t start any trouble, got it?” He patted the space between Grogu’s ears, the small head moving in a nod beneath his leather clad palm. “I’m going to go back home to Nevarro for a few days, but when I come back guess who’ll be coming with me?” 

With a small gasp, Grogu pointed at the purple scarf tucked around the collar of Din’s flight suit - the one you had given him as a Life Day gift the year before. 

“That’s right,” he nodded, letting out a small laugh. “And she’s going to want to hear all about the things you’re learning, so make sure you pay good attention so you remember everything and you can show us with your pictures.” 

“Patu.” Din had to stop himself from letting out another chuckle at the serious tone in Grogu’s little voice. Good, I’m glad he’s dedicated to this. It’s important that he learns. 

But as soon as that thought cleared his head, Din was hit with a blur of motion as Grogu launched himself into a hug, the man wrapping his arms around him and letting the held back chuckle go free. “Alright, buddy. Be good. I’ll see you soon.” 

With that, Grogu bounded off with the Armorer, and Din was left to himself. He thought briefly about stopping into his quarters on Mandalore to use the refresher and make some caf before heading straight back to Nevarro. But before he could decide if that was what he wanted to do or not, his attention was drawn by a pair of quickly approaching footsteps and the call of his name from the direction of the landing platform. He turned as Leera Shale, one of the teenaged trainees from the landing platform, shouted his name again. What’s she in such a hurry for? 

“Din Djarin!” The kid ran, huffing and panting under the weight of her armor as she reached him. “My brother and I,” she began, pausing to gulp in a breath and let it back out. “We were refueling your ship and recalibrating the guns, and a holo transmission came through. It’s… It’s urgent.” 

Though she hadn’t said what the message entailed, a sudden weight dropped into Din’s stomach. With the frantic way she’d run to get him, he doubted that the news she had was good. “What is it? Who is it from?” 

The girl shook her head, the green and orange helmet she wore moving side to side. “We don’t know. Sahmer said the man was an Abyssin? But that’s… it doesn’t-” She sputtered. “It doesn’t matter. You need to come see it. He’s… I think someone might be in trouble.” 

Your face flashed in his mind then, and though he couldn’t explain how, he knew that you were in danger. Racing back to his ship with the young Mandalorian at his heels, he tried not to think about the fact that if you were in danger, it was his fault. If she’s been hurt I’ll- 

The thought trailed off as he reached the platform, wasting no time in climbing into his ship so that he could play the transmission and hear it for himself.  

“I didn’t want it to come to this, Mando, but you’re a tough one to pin down.” 

A chill ran down Din’s spine as he saw the speaker - an Abyssin, as Sahmer had said - seated at the table in the kitchen of the home he shared with you, though you were not in view. Where is she? What- 

“We’ve never met, you and I. But you knew my brother. Gor Karesh.” The speaker clicked his tongue and huffed a humorless laugh. “Did you really think there would not be consequences for what you did to him?” At that, he lifted one hand, and from it dangled a length of leather cord, Din’s hands clenching into tight fists as he made out the pendant he’d given you. “It would be a shame to make your woman pay for those consequences, don’t you think?” He laughed again, the sound just as cold and flat. “Come to the battle arena in the warehouse district. RTK111. You know the place. Oh, and come alone. I’ll know if you don’t.” He paused then, winding the cord around your pendant and tucking it into his shirt pocket before looking straight at the holo-device as he finished his threat. “Come alone, or she dies.” 

The transmission ended then, Din left staring at the controls of his ship with Sahmer and Leera standing silently beside the open cockpit. Chest heaving with rage, he started immediately setting course for the location your captor had given him. “Were you able to finish refueling before the holo came through?” He asked the question in a steady, even tone, not wanting to scare the kids despite the way his blood was boiling. 

“Y-yeah.” Sahmer answered nervously. “Tank’s full and the guns are ready.” 

“Good. Thank you.” He punched in the coordinates and turned to Leera. “I need you to go and find Bo-Katan Kryze. Tell her where I’m going, but that she can’t follow. Tell her my riduur is in danger and I have to get her back, and tell her-” A tight knot formed in his throat as he prepared for the worst case scenario, but he forced it down. “Tell her to look after Grogu if I don’t come back. Can you do that for me?” 

Leera looked to her brother, the two of them sharing a solemn nod before the girl turned back to face Din. “This is the Way.” 

Though every beat of his heart drove more fear and anger into his bloodstream, the familiar words and the meaning behind them gave him a small amount of comfort. “This is the Way.” 

He only allowed himself to feel that comfort for a second though, the entirety of his focus on getting to you before it was too late. As the ship lifted from the ground, he made you a silent promise. 

I’m coming for you. 

He didn’t know what was waiting for him once he arrived at the arena. Based on the last interaction he had there, he could guess that it wouldn’t be pleasant. But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if Karesh put a hundred men in his way, or if he had to fight a rancor. Nothing would stop him from bringing you home. 

I’m coming for you, cyare. I promise. – – – 

Thank you for reading! If you'd like to be added to or removed from my taglists, please feel free to let me know! You can use the form on my masterlist or just shoot me a message!

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[lila-lou]

✨High School Sweetheart - Pt 4✨

Summary: You come face-to-face with a ghost from your past—Dean Winchester. Five years after he vanished from your life without a word, and now he´s here. But neither you nor he are teenagers anymore.

-Listen to "Chance with you"-

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Language, Fluff, John being a dick

Word Count: 6498

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙

Dean’s eyes sparkled with that familiar mischievous glint, but there was a gentleness beneath it that you hadn’t seen before, a warmth that seemed to speak of all the unspoken things between you. He leaned in a little closer, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he looked down at you.

“Still making me work for it, huh?”, he teased, his tone playful but filled with an affection that felt deeply personal. “I swear, you haven’t changed a bit”.

He brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering just a little longer than necessary, the tender gesture sending a wave of warmth through you. “But maybe that’s just part of your charm”, he murmured, his voice dropping even lower, so soft it felt like it was meant only for you. “You always knew how to keep me on my damn toes”.

His gaze never wavered, locked on yours with an intensity that seemed to cut through the noise of the world around you. There was a vulnerability there, a hint of something deeper that he was offering without saying a word. The teasing smirk softened, his eyes reflecting the weight of everything he was trying to convey, all the words he hadn’t said back then and the feelings that had lingered, just waiting for this moment.

“Think you might give me another chance to make a few new memories?”, he asked softly, the question hanging in the air, equal parts hopeful and sincere.

You felt a spark of excitement mingling with a sudden wave of nerves, the mixture leaving you a bit breathless. Dean’s presence, his soft teasing, his gaze that seemed to reach right through you—it was overwhelming in the best way, but the memory of yesterday lingered. You took a shaky breath, letting your fingers brush against his hand before you tilted your head up to meet his gaze, a little smile tugging at your lips despite your nerves.

“What about that whole goodbye yesterday?”, you asked, raising an eyebrow, hoping the question might mask just how giddy you felt inside. “I thought you were out of here, off to some other town by now”.

Before Dean could answer, Sam, who was still deeply engrossed in his book, piped up with a deadpan comment, not even bothering to lift his eyes from the page. “Oh, we’re sticking around for a few more days”, he mumbled, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Dean’s a little too… distracted to focus on the case right now”.

Dean shot Sam a glare, though he couldn’t hide the faint blush that crept up his neck. “Thanks, Sammy. Real subtle”.

Sam still didn’t even look up, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he flipped another page. “Hey, someone’s gotta point out the obvious”, he said, shrugging casually. “Otherwise, we’ll be here forever while you pretend it’s all about ‘research’”.

Dean groaned, rolling his eyes. “Real funny, Sam. I’m just trying to… handle things”, he said. But Sam wasn’t done.

“Yeah, ‘handle things’. That what we’re calling it now?”, Sam finally looked up, his grin unrepentant. “Pretty sure this case could’ve been wrapped up yesterday if someone hadn’t been, you know..”.

Dean looked ready to retort, but you cut in, suppressing a laugh. “Well, I’m glad he’s sticking around for the ‘case’”, you teased, raising an eyebrow at Dean. “Though, maybe Sam’s right. Wouldn’t want you to get too… distracted”.

Sam’s laughter bubbled up as he leaned back in the armchair, clearly enjoying every moment of Dean’s embarrassment. “See, she gets it”, he said, winking at you. “Guess I’ll just take the lead on the case. Let you two ‘handle things’ in the meantime”.

Dean gave an exasperated sigh, but there was no hiding the smile that played on his lips as he shot his brother a look. “Fine. You get point on the case”, he grumbled, “but I swear, one more comment out of you and you’re sleeping in the car”.

“Worth it”, Sam replied, unfazed, his grin wide.

Then, Sam stood up, holding up a book he’d clearly deemed useful, and looked at you with a casual, “How much?”. But before he could reach for his wallet, you shook your head gently, a small smile on your lips as you looked between the two brothers.

“It’s on the house”, you murmured, “if your brother agrees to get those milkshakes with me”.

Dean’s eyebrows shot up, surprised but clearly pleased, his smirk quickly replacing his stunned expression. “Well, that sounds like a deal to me”, he replied, shooting Sam a triumphant look. “Milkshakes it is”.

Sam rolled his eyes with a good-natured sigh, tossing Dean a look that said, I knew this was coming. “I’ll wait in the car”, he said, clearly amused by the whole situation. He held the book up in a half-hearted salute, then headed toward the door, the bell above jingling as he stepped outside.

Dean watched his brother leave, rolling his eyes but smiling to himself. As the door closed, he turned back to you, the teasing smirk gone, replaced by something softer, more genuine.

“So”, he said, his voice warm and almost hesitant, “guess we’re on for those milkshakes?”.

You felt your heart skip a beat, but you nodded, feeling a quiet excitement settle over you. “Guess so”, you replied, your smile mirroring his.

Dean shifted slightly, hands finding their way into his pockets, his gaze never wavering from yours as he spoke. “Well… when do you close up here?”, he asked, his tone casual but his eyes carrying that unmistakable spark of anticipation. “Figure I can come back and pick you up”.

You glanced at the clock on the wall, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you looked back at him. “I’ll be done around six”, you replied, feeling a little thrill run through you at the thought of him coming back, of sharing a night out with him like old times.

Dean nodded, that familiar grin breaking through. “Alright, I’ll be here”, he said, his voice warm with certainty. He took a small step back, as if giving you space but still keeping close enough to make it clear he wasn’t in a hurry to leave. “Guess I’ll see you at six, then”.

“Looking forward to it”, you replied, your voice softer than you intended, but you couldn’t help it. The easy charm in his smile, the way he looked at you—it all made it impossible to hide your excitement.

He hesitated for a moment, then gave you a final, lingering look before heading toward the door. “See you soon”, he said, the words carrying a promise. With one last grin, he stepped out, leaving the door to chime softly in his wake.

Back in the car, Sam was already nose-deep in the book he’d picked up from your shop, eyes scanning the pages as he began to mutter. “Alright, I think I might have a lead here. Looks like there’s something about local lore—could be tied to a spirit or curse”. He continued to flip through the pages, his voice growing more animated as he pieced together the clues. But a few moments later, he glanced up, quickly realizing that Dean’s focus was nowhere near the case.

Dean was leaning back in the driver’s seat, staring out the windshield with a faint smile on his face, his gaze distant and his expression soft. Sam raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes as he closed the book slightly to get his brother’s attention.

“Earth to Dean”, Sam said, nudging his shoulder. “I’m over here talking about the case, and you’re clearly somewhere else”.

Dean blinked, snapping out of his thoughts, but the smirk on his face didn’t fade. “Huh? Oh, yeah, the case. Ghosts and… stuff”. He shrugged, clearly trying to play it off, though he wasn’t fooling Sam in the slightest.

Sam rolled his eyes, leaning back with an exasperated sigh. “You’re seriously gone, aren’t you?”, he teased, crossing his arms as he watched Dean with a knowing grin. “Don’t think I’ve seen you this distracted since—well, probably since the last time you saw her”.

Dean tried to hide his grin, but the blush creeping up his neck betrayed him. “Can you blame me?”, he muttered, glancing out the window as if trying to avoid Sam’s teasing look. “I mean… she’s different. Always was”.

Sam’s expression softened slightly, his teasing tone fading as he nodded in understanding. “Yeah, I know”, he said quietly, giving Dean a small, supportive smile. “Guess it’s about time you got a second chance, huh? Without… dad being a dick about it”.

Dean looked toward Sam, his expression shifting as a flicker of something unspoken passed between them. He knew Sam was right—this was a second chance, a rare one in their lives. The memory surfaced then, unbidden, of the last time he’d felt this strongly, back when he’d snuck into the motel after that first night with you, only to find his father waiting, disapproval practically radiating off him.

-Flashback-

The motel was silent as Dean carefully turned the doorknob, hoping to sneak back in unnoticed. He was exhausted, still floating in the quiet afterglow of the night he’d spent with you, and all he wanted was a few hours of sleep before facing another day of the usual grind. But as he stepped inside, he froze. John was sitting at the small table by the window, a cup of coffee in hand, his eyes dark and cold as he stared at his son.

Dean swallowed, knowing immediately that he wasn’t getting off easy. He barely managed to shut the door before John spoke, his voice low and laced with that familiar edge of disappointment.

"Where the hell have you been, Dean?", John’s tone wasn’t just accusatory—it was dismissive, as if he already knew the answer and couldn’t bring himself to care about anything other than his own frustration. "Out wasting time, doing God-knows-what? Thought you were better than some lovesick idiot chasing after a girl".

Dean clenched his jaw, every muscle in his body tense. "Just needed some air", he muttered, trying to downplay it, hoping that would be enough. But John wasn’t having it.

"Air, huh?", John scoffed, standing up and moving closer, his presence filling the small room. "You're supposed to be focused, Dean. Not out there making a fool of yourself over some girl". The way he spat out the word "girl" made it clear how little he thought of you—or anyone outside their world.

Dean felt his fists clench, a sharp pang of anger shooting through him. "I know my priorities, Dad", he replied, his voice controlled but barely hiding the frustration he felt.

"Doesn’t look like it", John shot back, his voice growing louder. "You’ve got responsibilities. You think any girl out there is gonna understand that? Gonna put up with our life?". He shook his head, a harsh laugh escaping him. "No, Dean, you’re fooling yourself. And you’re wasting your damn time. Love is for idiots who can afford it".

The noise stirred Sam, who was asleep in the bed. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, clearly disoriented. "What’s going on?".

"Nothing", John snapped, shooting a glare at Sam. "Just your brother learning the hard way that our family doesn’t get to have normal lives. We don’t get to waste time on pointless things". He turned his gaze back to Dean, his expression hard and unyielding. "You’re gonna end up just like me, Dean. Chained to this life because it’s all you’ll ever have".

The words hit Dean like a punch to the gut, and for a second, he felt every bit the "lovesick kid" his father accused him of being. He wanted to argue, to push back, to tell John he was wrong. But the weight of his father’s expectations, of the life they’d been handed, pressed down on him, leaving him feeling trapped and small.

As John finally walked away, heading to the bathroom without another word, Sam looked at Dean, his eyes wide with sympathy and quiet understanding.

“Dean…”, Sam began, his voice tentative, but Dean shook his head, silencing his brother. He didn’t want Sam’s sympathy. He didn’t want to admit that John’s words had gotten to him, that they’d dug deep into his insecurities.

“Go back to sleep, Sammy”, Dean mumbled, his voice thick, trying to bury everything he felt.

-End of the Flashback-

Dean let out a quiet sigh, his gaze distant as he thought about that night, about how he’d felt torn between his father’s expectations and his own desire for something real, something normal. Sitting here now, next to Sam, he realized just how different things could be now, with John gone and the two of them forging their own path.

“Guess I don’t have to worry about Dad breathing down my neck this time”, Dean said softly, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah, well, Dad’s not here to tell you what you can’t do”, Sam replied quietly, his tone both gentle and encouraging. “So maybe… it’s time to focus on what you actually want”.

Dean let Sam’s words sink in. For years, every choice he’d made, every relationship he’d considered, had always been shaped by his father’s voice in the back of his mind. But now? There was no rulebook.

“Maybe”, Dean murmured, looking out the window as if he could already see a new path forming before him. He gave a wry smile, finally meeting Sam’s gaze. “Didn’t think you’d be my life coach, Sammy, but… thanks”.

Sam shrugged, that familiar teasing smirk returning. “Don’t mention it. Just try not to screw this up, alright?”, he joked, though there was real warmth behind the words.

Dean laughed, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement settle in his chest. He knew what he wanted—to be with you, at least for now, without worrying about where it might lead or how it might end. It was a freedom he hadn’t felt in a long time, and it filled him with a renewed sense of purpose.

A few hours later, Dean found himself in tiny bathroom of the motel, carefully trimming his beard with a level of precision he usually reserved for his Impala’s engine. The air was thick with his familiar cologne, the rich, woodsy scent mixing with the stale air of the cramped bathroom. He traced his jawline with his fingertips, checking the results in the mirror.

Just then, Sam appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, a wide, amused grin spreading across his face.

Dean caught sight of Sam’s reflection in the mirror and groaned, already anticipating the ribbing he was about to get. He turned off the trimmer, setting it down.

“Well, I’d say you look a little too good for just ‘milkshakes’, don’t you think?”, Sam teased, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. His gaze dropped pointedly to Dean’s chest, which was notably smoother than usual.

Dean shot him a mock glare, though a slight blush crept up his neck. “Give it a rest, Sammy”, he muttered, grabbing his shirt and pulling it over his head a little too quickly, as if that might cover up both the grooming and his embarrassment. “Nothing wrong with looking decent once in a while”.

“Decent? Dean, you shaved your damn chest. Just admit it—you’re trying to impress her”.

Dean rolled his eyes, looking down at the red flannel in his hands with a hint of frustration. He didn’t have anything particularly nice to wear—nothing that screamed “date night” instead of “hunter”. Besides his usual gear, the only remotely formal outfit he owned was the standard FBI getup he kept stashed for cases. The thought crossed his mind that it would’ve been nice to have something a little different, something that didn’t reek of constant travel, hunts, and long hours on the road.

With a resigned sigh, he slipped into the flannel over his black T-shirt, leaving it unbuttoned. It wasn’t flashy, but at least it was him. He caught his reflection in the mirror, his expression softening, and he mumbled almost to himself, “Just don’t want her to think… bad of me, you know?”.

Sam’s smirk softened into a small, understanding smile. “Dean”, he murmured, his voice carrying that brotherly reassurance, “She’s known you since high school. You looked the same back then”.

Dean scoffed lightly, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “Yeah, well, I was hoping I’d improved a little since then”, he replied, though the tension in his voice had softened. “It’s been a while, Sammy”.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “Trust me, she’s not interested in the clothes or the cologne, Dean. She’s interested in you”. He leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. “And honestly, I think she’s already pretty into you, flannel and all”.

Dean ran a hand over his face, the trace of a blush still visible. “Guess it’s not like I’ve got a whole lot of options anyway”, he muttered, but Sam could hear the hint of nerves in his tone—the rare, genuine excitement that Dean hadn’t shown in a long time.

Sam clapped a hand on his shoulder, giving him a small smile. “You’re gonna be fine. Just… be yourself”.

Dean groaned, rolling his eyes as he ran a hand through his hair, feeling like he was 18 all over again, back in those early days when he’d first met you. “Be myself”, he muttered, shaking his head. “That’s what I’m worried about”.

Sam chuckled, leaning back with a knowing look. “Yeah, but it worked back then, didn’t it? Flannel, leather jacket, that same cocky smile… trust me, Dean, it’s part of the package”.

Dean let out a reluctant laugh, but there was a hint of warmth there, too. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”.

“I try”, Sam replied, grinning. “Now, go on—don’t keep her waiting”.

Dean took a steadying breath, letting himself absorb the moment, that nervous energy thrumming beneath the surface. “Fine, fine”, he muttered, grabbing his jacket and tossing Sam a smirk as he headed toward the door. “Just don’t get too cozy in the motel room without me, alright?”.

Sam’s laugh echoed behind him as Dean stepped outside, each step bringing him closer to that familiar flutter of excitement and nerves he hadn’t felt in ages. He couldn’t believe it—he was actually nervous.

Dean drove through town toward your bookstore, his fingers tapping the wheel rhythmically as he tried to calm his nerves. It wasn’t like him to feel this jittery over a simple outing, but with you, it felt like so much more than just milkshakes.

When he finally pulled up outside your shop, you greeted him with a warm smile as you slid into the passenger seat. He could feel his heart pick up as you buckled in, your presence somehow amplifying his nerves and excitement all at once.

After a few minutes, you glanced at him, biting your lip as you hesitated before asking, “Hey, would you mind making a quick stop at my apartment? I just want to freshen up a bit”.

Dean glanced over, caught off guard by the question. His instinct was to say there was no need—he thought you looked perfect already, but he wasn’t quite sure how to say that without sounding too forward. Instead, he fumbled slightly, scratching the back of his neck. “Oh, uh, sure. I mean, you… you don’t have to or anything. You look great”. His words tumbled out in an awkward rush, and he added, “But yeah, if you want, of course. No problem”.

You smiled, clearly amused by his flustered response, and gave him the directions. The short drive to your apartment was filled with light conversation, but he could sense the undercurrent of anticipation between you both. As he parked outside, he cleared his throat, giving you a little grin as you got out. “I’ll be here”, he said, trying to keep his tone casual.

“Come on, Dean, you can wait upstairs”, you teased. “No more parents around”. You gave him a wink, which had him chuckling awkwardly, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

He cleared his throat, feigning nonchalance as he stepped out of the car to follow you up, but his mind was already wandering back to those sneaking-around days and you both had been a little less lucky…

-Flashback-

It was early morning, the sunlight streaming through the window brighter than either of you had planned for. Dean blinked himself awake, his arm draped over you, only to realize with a jolt that you’d both overslept. “Crap”, he muttered under his breath, easing himself out of bed as quietly as he could manage.

You were still drowsy, wrapped up in a blanket, a sleepy smile on your face as you watched him stumble around, pulling on his jeans and grabbing his boots. You knew the drill by now—Dean’s early exits were routine, sneaking out before your parents could suspect anything. But today, you both miscalculated.

Dean had just tied one boot and was reaching for the other when the door creaked open. He froze, his eyes wide, and you quickly pulled the blanket tighter around you, but it was too late.

Your mom stood there, taking in the scene with an expression that was both shocked and… slightly amused.

Your mom crossed her arms, giving him a pointed look, and then turned her gaze to you, arching a brow. “Good morning. I didn’t realize we had… company”.

You bit your lip, scrambling for something, anything, to say, but the words just wouldn’t come. She raised an eyebrow, glancing down at her watch with a slightly exasperated smile. “Shouldn’t you have been out of the window, say… two hours ago?”.

Your eyes went wide, and you glanced at Dean, whose face mirrored your expression of pure disbelief. Neither of you had expected this; for all the times he’d snuck in and out, you’d never imagined she’d known about it.

“Wait”, Dean stammered, looking between you and your mom, “you… you knew?”.

Your mom gave a half-sigh, half-smile, crossing her arms with a look that was almost amused. “A mother knows when her daughter’s sneaking someone in”. she said matter-of-factly. “I let it slide because… well, I had my suspicions that it was just you two being young and… figuring things out”. She glanced pointedly at Dean’s boots on the floor, then back at you. “But you’d better hope your dad never catches you, because he’s nowhere near as… understanding”.

Your cheeks burned, and you could barely look up at Dean, who was still frozen in place. But, as mortifying as it was, there was a warmth to her tone, an unspoken acknowledgment that somehow, she understood. It softened the edge of the embarrassment, though only slightly.

Dean managed a small smile, one that held a hint of sheepishness. “I, uh… appreciate the heads-up, ma’am”.

She gave him a look that was both stern and kind. “Just be smart”, she replied, giving you both one last glance before she turned to leave, muttering, “And next time… maybe set an alarm”.

The door closed, and the two of you sat in stunned silence for a moment before you both burst into nervous laughter, the shared shock and relief pulling you closer.

-End of the Flashback-

Standing in your apartment now, you looked back at Dean, the memory filling the space between you. Dean chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Guess we weren’t as sneaky as we thought”, he murmured, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that made your heart skip.

You chuckled, feeling the warmth rise in your cheeks again. “Yeah, guess we were a little obvious, huh?”, you said, shaking your head as the memory settled between you both. It felt strangely comforting, this shared history that only the two of you truly understood.

Dean’s grin softened, his gaze lingering on you with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. “Well, at least we’re a little older now”, he teased, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the doorframe. “No more sneaking out windows or dodging your mom”.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. “Right. Now it’s just dodging Sam’s smart comments”, you joked, but there was an undeniable sweetness beneath your words.

Dean’s gaze drifted around your apartment, taking in the small details that made it feel so distinctly you—the cozy throw draped over the couch, the collection of books stacked in one corner, the faint scent of vanilla lingering in the air. He paused in front of a framed family picture on a nearby shelf, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips as he looked at it.

“How’s your mom?”, he asked softly, his tone gentle, as if the question held a dozen other questions he hadn’t quite figured out how to ask yet.

You stepped beside him, following his gaze to the photo. It was a snapshot from a family picnic years ago, your mom’s arm around you, both of you laughing at some long-forgotten joke. A rush of warmth and nostalgia filled you, mingling with the lingering nervous excitement of having Dean here, in your space, sharing these memories with you.

“She’s good”, you replied, a fond smile slipping onto your face. “Still looking out for me, always asking if I’ve ‘met any nice boys’ lately”. You gave him a playful nudge, rolling your eyes at the memory. “Not sure what she’d say if she knew I was spending time with… well, you again”.

Dean chuckled, but his expression softened, a hint of warmth in his gaze as he looked at you. “Guess I didn’t leave the best impression back then, huh?”. There was a flicker of something like regret in his eyes, but he brushed it off quickly, his gaze settling back on you. “Even though I liked her… a lot”, he murmured, almost to himself, like he was processing the weight of his own memories. His gaze dropped for a moment, a flicker of nostalgia and maybe even a touch of regret lingering there.

You raised an eyebrow, looking up at him with an incredulous smile. “You’re kidding, right?”, you chuckled, nudging him lightly. “Dean, she loved you. At least every two months, she’s sitting with me and Dad at dinner, looking all thoughtful and sighing, ‘I bet you and Dean would’ve given me a grandchild by now’”.

Dean’s eyebrows shot up, his mouth dropping open slightly before he let out a surprised laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly caught off guard. “Seriously? She said that?”. He grinned, a little self-conscious, but you could see the hint of pride in his expression, like he hadn’t expected to have left that kind of impression on her.

“Every time”, you affirmed, laughing as you thought back to the countless times your mom had brought him up. “It’s like, no matter how much time passes, she just can’t let go of the idea that you and I were supposed to… I don’t know, end up together or something”.

You looked up at him, a smile tugging at your lips. “You won her over on Halloween”, you murmured, remembering that night vividly.

-Flashback-

Halloween night had settled in with the chill of autumn, pumpkins lit on doorsteps and a hint of wood smoke in the air. Your dad was out of town, as he often was, leaving just you and your mom to keep up the Halloween traditions. You’d promised her a cozy movie night, just the two of you with popcorn, cookies, and your favorite horror flicks.

When Dean asked if you’d wanted to see a movie with him, the thought of slipping away for a bit had been tempting. But you hesitated, mumbling, “I promised my mom I’d stay in tonight. She’s got this whole thing planned—snacks, homemade cookies. I just… I don’t want to leave her alone, you know?”.

Dean’s face softened in understanding, a warmth in his tone that took you by surprise. “Yeah, I get it”, he said, nodding as if he genuinely respected that. He’d never quite been used to this kind of affection or tradition, but he could see how much it meant to you.

You bit your lip, feeling a bit shy as you added, “And… Actually… She sort of asked if you were planning on sneaking in again tonight or… if you’d want to come by a little earlier. Through the front door this time”. You glanced up at him, nerves fluttering in your stomach. “She said she wouldn’t mind getting to know you… you know, officially”.

Dean blinked, taken aback for a moment, a faint blush creeping up his neck. But then a small smile broke through, soft and genuine. “Yeah?”, he murmured, surprised but clearly pleased. “Well, I could do that. I mean… if you’re sure she’s okay with it?”.

You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “She’s more than okay with it. She was… well, I think she’s actually a little curious about the guy I keep sneaking around with”.

Dean chuckled, the sound warm and a bit bashful. “Alright, then. I guess I’ll bring my best manners”. There was a glimmer of humor in his eyes, but you could tell that underneath it, he was touched by the invitation.

A couple of hours later, Dean stood on your front porch, fidgeting slightly as he smoothed down his jacket, looking more nervous than ever. When you opened the door, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him standing there, his usual bravado softened into something more real, more earnest.

As you led him into the cozy warmth of your home, the aroma of freshly baked cookies greeted him. Your mom appeared in the kitchen doorway, a warm smile lighting up her face as she wiped her hands on a towel. “So, Dean was it, right?”, she said, her tone welcoming but curious. She extended her hand, and he shook it, his smile both charming and a little shy.

“Yes, ma’am”, he replied, his voice respectful, clearly wanting to make a good impression.

Your mom chuckled softly as she looked him over, her eyes bright with curiosity and a hint of approval. “ma'am? Uhh, I like him”, she mused aloud, turning to you with a playful smile before looking back at Dean. “I like you, Dean! You’ve got good manners”. She winked, clearly enjoying herself, making Dean shift a bit under the unexpected praise, but his grin didn’t falter.

“Thank you, ma’am”, Dean replied, his voice genuinely grateful.

Your mom led you both toward the kitchen, where the smell of warm cider filled the air. She grabbed three mugs, filling them with the steaming drink before setting them on the table. “I made this batch a little special”, she said with a conspiratorial grin. “Added a touch of something stronger—don’t worry, Dean, in Europe you’re well within the drinking age”, she winked. “Helps with the Halloween chill”.

Dean chuckled, his eyes lighting up as he took the warm mug from her hands. “Well, can’t say no to that”, he said, looking at you with a playful smirk before taking a sip. The taste was warm, spiced, and a little sharper than he expected, but he took it in stride, enjoying the drink and the friendly welcome.

The three of you settled around the kitchen table, and your mom wasted no time in asking Dean questions about his life, his family, and his interests. She listened with genuine interest, her gaze flicking between you and Dean with a subtle smile. You could tell she was pleased, maybe even relieved, to see the two of you together like this, as if her instincts about him had been right all along.

As the evening went on, Dean’s natural charm and respectful demeanor had your mom fully captivated. Even though he had to be careful about what he shared, steering away from the supernatural realities of his life, he answered her questions with an easy politeness that felt genuine. He spoke about his love of cars, a few of his favorite bands, and, without meaning to, started talking about you.

Every time he mentioned your name, there was a softness in his voice that didn’t go unnoticed by your mom. He described the way you’d sneak out for late-night talks, how you could make him laugh no matter what was going on, and his voice took on a rare tenderness when he looked your way. It was clear he was speaking from a place of true admiration and respect, and he had your mom completely wrapped around his finger, though he didn’t seem aware of it.

Your mom beamed, clearly enjoying every bit of his stories. “Well”, she said with a warm smile, looking between you and Dean, “it sounds like you two have been getting along just fine. And you know, Dean, I’m glad she has a friend like you around. She’s always been independent, but it’s good to know there’s someone watching out for her”.

Dean glanced at you, his gaze lingering for a moment, as if he was still taking in the fact that he was here, being welcomed like this. “She’s something special”, he said, almost to himself, his voice carrying a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat.

Your mom smiled, nodding. “I can see that”, she replied, looking at you with a proud, knowing expression before shifting her gaze back to Dean. “And you’re welcome here anytime, Dean”.

-End of the Flashback-

Dean took a deep breath, grounding himself back in the present as the warm memory faded, leaving behind a bittersweet ache. He looked around your apartment, taking in the familiar comfort of your space, and he felt that same warmth from years ago, the kind that made him feel at home in a way he rarely did.

You caught him staring at the family photo again, a soft smile pulling at your lips as you noticed the look of nostalgia in his eyes. “It’s nice, isn’t it? Having these memories”.

Dean nodded, his gaze meeting yours, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah”, he murmured. “It is”.

The silence between you felt heavy but comforting, filled with words left unsaid and memories that spoke for themselves. There was something in Dean’s eyes that made you feel like he was seeing you as that teenager all over again—the girl he’d climbed through windows for.

“Didn’t think of them for a while tho”, Dean mumbled, his gaze still fixed on the family photo, though his mind was miles away. His voice held a quiet vulnerability, as if he were opening a door he’d kept closed for years, trying to keep those memories and all they meant at arm’s length.

You moved a little closer, your presence grounding him as he stood there, shoulders slightly slouched, a small, soft smile pulling at his lips despite himself. “It’s strange, but… it feels like it hasn’t been that long since—well, since all of this”.

You felt the weight of his words, sensing that he wasn’t just talking about your apartment or even the past itself but something deeper, something that still connected the two of you. There was a warmth in his eyes, a lingering reminder of that young man he’d been, and the version of yourself that had found something so real in him, even when everything else was uncertain.

“Maybe some things are worth remembering”, you said softly, meeting his gaze and letting the words hang in the air.

Dean nodded, his eyes holding yours, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Yeah”. he replied, his voice barely a whisper, filled with a sincerity that made your heart flutter. “Some things definitely are”.

The quiet, unspoken understanding between you felt like a fragile bridge, connecting who you were then with who you were now.

Before the moment could deepen, you took a small step back, feeling the intensity of the conversation settle over you like a warm but slightly overwhelming blanket. “I’m just… gonna head to the bathroom real quick”, you murmured, offering a shy smile. “Make yourself at home”.

Dean gave you a quick nod, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “Will do”, he replied, watching as you slipped away. He took a deep breath, looking around your apartment once more with a sense of reverence, noticing all the small details that made it so distinctly yours.

As you closed the bathroom door, you leaned against it for a moment, catching your breath. The quiet excitement of having him here, of feeling the past rush back with such clarity, filled you with a thrill that was both comforting and new. You could still feel the warmth of his gaze, the sense that no matter how many years had passed, there was still something alive between you, something that neither time nor distance had managed to erase.

Meanwhile, Dean took in the space around him, glancing at your bookshelf, running his fingers along the spines of well-loved novels, and finding little reminders of who you’d grown into. He smiled to himself, feeling at home in a way he hadn’t in a long time, as if this space held all the things that had been missing from his life on the road.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

-

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @pughsexual @berryblues46 @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @kr804573 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @globetrotter28

[myokk]

HOLA! ❤️ First of all, dropping some kudos because I love you and your art so much (basically my blog can be your side blog too at this point!) ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Second, from the character ask, I'd like to know about 3,4 and 20 for both Eloise and Leo 😁

Hope you have a wonderful day/night!

HOLA MI ITALIANA FAVORITA💓​ I APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE FOR ALL OF THE YAPPING I'M ABOUT TO DO🤭​ will this get you to finally visit me🥺​

I'm going to answer these for Eloise SINCE I already did 3 for Leo & I have someone asking me about 4 for Leo as well🥺💓

3) What was the first thing you decided on, the character's name, appearance, personality or their role in the story?

This is a tricky answer…just bc my evil gremlin mc in the game has NOTHING to do with Eloise in my writing. I guess I would say her name? I was just thinking of what would be the most British sounding name I could think of when I started playing in December🙂‍↕️

But then my imagination took hold of me…I started thinking about Eloise’s backstory…and when I thought of how all of her family dynamics/how she grew up would influence her personality I started to be really dissatisfied with the game and the lack of choice we have while playing. SO I gave up on the game completely after the restricted section quest and started to use my free time to write my fic in January🥹🫶 but her backstory, personality, and role in my story are definitely the most interesting things about her to me!!

Bonus: my first ever drawings of her in January!!! Bad quality bc it’s an insta story screenshot😆💓 (I redid one for my fic🤭)

4) And reverse, which one of the four things did you struggle with the most?

Hmmmmm😭😭 I think her personality is what I struggled with the most and continue to struggle with as I write!!!! I always want her to feel like a *real* person with flaws, but ALSO convey to the reader why they should love her as much as I do. I think I’m successful bc I get comments/messages a lot from people telling me how much she resonates with them (and she’s some people’s favorite???😳💘) but I STILL CANT HELP BUT FEEL INSECURE ABOUT IT !!! It’s so hard sometimes keeping in mind how she is and how she thinks, and I never want her to be wishy-washy or doing things out of character for her. It’s a fun challenge but a challenge😭💓 (also her appearance changes like crazy in my art but whatever I’m learning😆)

20) bonus: share any additional thoughts, art, favorite scenes, anything you’ve been waiting for a chance to ramble about.

DES YOU REALLY WANTED ME TO YAP WHEN YOU SENT THIS MESSAGE😆😆😆😆😆

I really, REALLY want to yap about the foreshadowing and scenes I’m working towards in my fic BUT IVE ONLY TALKED TO LIKE ONE OR TWO PEOPLR ABOUT MY PLANS ( @choccy-milky & @kay9leo 🤭🤭) AND I DONT WANT TO SPOIL ANYTHING EVEN THOUGH I DONT HAVE MANY READERS😆😆😆😆😆😆😆 maybe in the future…

This is me redrawing the chess scene from my fic bc I’m really dissatisfied with how Seb looks in the original (he’s probably my LEAST FAVORITE TO DRAW BC IT’S IMPOSSIBLE !!!!!!!)

And ummmm….hmmm Eloise is DEFINITELY not a self-insert character to me, but I DID give her aspects of myself. Things like…we have the same birthday (January 31) and eye color (dark green), and I tend to overthink a lot and can be in my own head maybe too much, but I’m ALSO a lot more assertive and gremlin than she is😆😆😆😆 I love the fact that she’s so soft and sweet💓💓💓 & I just want to wrap her up in a big hug and never let go of her🥺🤲

(Imelda is my self-insert tbh…and this moment in my fic was ME😤:

At the sight of Imelda's worried face her throat contracted - Eloise found she couldn't speak - and she burst into tears again. They were rolling, hot and salty, down her cheeks and she hid her crumpled face back into the crooks of her arms. Imelda immediately wrapped her arms around Eloise, and she melted into her friend's embrace. Hands gently stroking her hair as she cried and cried and cried, murmurs whispered in soft Spanish to the top of her head.

She was overwhelmed, desolate, lonely.

I feel really bad for Eloise at this point in her story, but I also find it really interesting to keep poking her to see when she finally snaps and decides that she NEEDS to stand up for herself and what she wants. She hasn’t quite realized that she’s the only one who’s ultimately in charge of her life & I’m really really enjoying watching her become the person she’s meant to be🥹🫶🥹🫶

[mimisempai]

It's just a risk to take 2/2

Chapter Summary

The long-awaited evening is here. Will the feelings held back for years finally be revealed?

Notes

A little Human AU of them getting together

On Ao3

Rating G - 3279 words

Chap 1

On the night of the ball, they had decided to go their separate ways and meet at the front door of the complex where the reception hall was located. 

Aziraphale paced back and forth, waiting, for of course he was so excited and nervous at the same time that he'd arrived almost half an hour early.

"Oh, that tall man with the red hair, isn't that Mrs. Crowley's son?"

"Oh yes, he looks just like her!"

Aziraphale stopped dead in his tracks and followed the direction the two old ladies in front of him were looking. His heart leapt at the sight of Crowley, and then again at the bright smile his friend gave him when their eyes met.

Then Crowley walked toward him, quickly closing the distance between them.

God, he had missed him.

It had only been a month, but still.

"Hey."

Despite missing Crowley, it was all he could think to say as he found himself face to face with his dear friend.

It had to be said that the other man's appearance would have taken the wind out of anyone's sails. Crowley was a sight to behold under normal circumstances, but in a tuxedo he was simply dazzling, even when covered by a coat that rested on his shoulders.

"It feels like it's been forever."

His friend's voice snapped him out of his thoughts and Aziraphale nodded.

"For me, too."

An unfamiliar expression crossed Crowley's face as he leaned in before saying, "Then I think the circumstances deserve more than a nod of the head, don't you?"

Aziraphale didn't have time to react as his friend leaned in closer and pressed a light kiss to his cheek.

Okay. Now it was certain that Aziraphale would not survive the evening.

As Crowley straightened up, Aziraphale felt a slight burn where his lips had rested, but he didn't have time to think about it because his friend had grabbed his arm and was dragging him toward the entrance.

"I must say, I was pleasantly surprised that you accepted my invitation so easily."

Aziraphale chuckled softly.

"Not as surprised as I was at your invitation. Pleasantly surprised, of course." He smiled and received a sincere smile of relief in return. Perhaps he wasn't the only one with doubts.

"I think all this ridiculous fuss is our goal."

Crowley led Aziraphale to the glass doors that opened onto the reception hall. Aziraphale marveled at the decor, expecting the usual autumnal touches, but in fact it was all tastefully done, there was something enchanting about the decor, and it all served to give the atmosphere an intimate note, which was not to the bookseller's displeasure.

"Anthony, there you are. Welcome, Monsieur Fell."

Though in a different way, Crowley's mother was as beautiful as her son. Aziraphale shook her outstretched hand in greeting before saying, "Please call me Aziraphale, Mrs. Crowley."

"You are adorable, call me Lilith. You deserve it for being the one who brought that big idiot here."

"Mother!"

Aziraphale laughed slightly as Lilith added, "It really is a pleasure to see you both. Make yourselves at home."

She leaned over to Aziraphale and whispered in his ear, but so that Crowley could hear.

"I'm really infinitely grateful to you, because not only did you get him to come, but he's smiling."

"Aziraphale, would you like a drink?"

Crowley had interrupted his mother, pulling Aziraphale away before she could say the word. Which didn't keep him from feeling his mother's amused gaze on his back.

With a hand on Aziraphale's lower back, he pushed him toward the dining area. A waitress appeared and took their coats, and once they were near the buffet, sipping their appetizers, Aziraphale asked hesitantly, "Your mother calls you Anthony. I've never thought to ask you in all this time, but what would you prefer?"

"You want to call me Anthony?"

It was just like Crowley to answer one question with another, knowing that Aziraphale was afraid to ask him directly what he really wanted.

Aziraphale swallowed and then said quietly, "I would like to... Anthony."

He saw his friend gasp, but had no time to analyze the situation as his gaze was drawn to a group of old ladies who were watching them, murmuring and giggling.

Crowley, who had followed his gaze, leaned over and said, "These are friends from my mother's bridge club. She must have alerted her whole group to tell them I was coming and that I was coming with someone."

Aziraphale turned to him and, raising an eyebrow, said, "Is this really the first time... well, I mean that..."

"I've never had a relationship serious enough to introduce to my mother."

"Oh..."

Aziraphale raised his glass to his lips to compose himself, trying to ignore the storm of questions his friend's words had unleashed. Their eyes met for a long moment and Aziraphale searched desperately for something to say, but the spell was broken when someone nudged him awkwardly and he almost dropped his glass. 

Then Lilith's voice rose over the gathered crowd.

"Welcome, my friends, to the fifth edition of this Autumn Gala. As you all know, for the past five years this gala has raised funds for the local homeless shelter. Enjoy the music and dancing once our musicians arrive, and the little surprise that awaits us all as night falls. In the meantime, savor the banquet and the feast.

"I suggest we wait until the first wave has passed," Crowley whispered in Aziraphale's ear.

Trying to ignore the shiver that Crowley's breath on his neck had caused, Aziraphale readily accepted and let himself be pulled to one of the tables, which was in a quieter corner than the rest of the room. Once seated, they watched the people come and go, eager to enjoy the buffet, Crowley making Aziraphale laugh with his sarcastic comments about the people passing by.

Eventually, the crowd dwindled to a small line, and they both quietly filled their plates before returning to their table, eating while watching the other guests and chatting in the easy manner of two friends who had known each other for a long time. Lilith wandered between the tables, chatting with a small group here and there in perfect hostess fashion. At one point, she spotted them and made her way toward them, but one of her friends stopped her by whispering something, so she smiled briefly and simply waved from a distance.

The musicians arrived, and Aziraphale noted with astonishment that it was a full orchestra. Crowley chuckled at his stunned expression.

"For as long as I can remember, my mother has tended to do things big, no matter what the occasion."

Then, stealing a petit-four from Aziraphale's plate, he added, "Although this gala is far more entertaining than any I've attended."

Aziraphale couldn't help but retort, "It must be the company." 

"Absolutely."

Crowley's gaze was incredibly direct and open as he continued, "But I'm still surprised you didn't have anything planned, considering I caught you a bit off guard."

"Aside from nights at the Dirty Donkey with the girls and Muriel, I don't get out much. The theater once or twice, but that's about it."

"Alone?"

"Most of the time."

"Ah?"

"Is this an interrogation?"

Crowley replied sheepishly, "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

Aziraphale smiled and reassured him, placing a hand on his forearm, "I'm kidding. When I'm not alone, I'm with Muriel. Although now that they have a boyfriend, Eric, they come with me much less. And I don't blame them."

Aziraphale looked dreamy as he added, "It must be nice to have someone like that..."

Blushing slightly, he coughed before continuing, "Anyway, most of my evenings are spent in my armchair with a good book or some good music."

Once again he noticed a strange look on his friend's face, when suddenly his expression changed and he muttered, "Beware, trouble's coming."

Aziraphale followed his gaze and saw the reason for Crowley's words.

"Mr. Brown."

The bane of Whickber Street. And what Crowley didn't know, had been Aziraphale's bane for some time. Brown had invented every excuse to come into his bookshop, or to invite him to dinners and other appointments that Aziraphale had always managed to avoid.

"Aziraphale, what a pleasure to see you here."

Brown stood at their table, openly ignoring Crowley's presence as he continued, "May I invite you to dance?"

Aziraphale shook his head and replied coldly, "No, thank you," then turned his head back to Crowley, thinking the other would turn and leave, but Brown did not and continued as if nothing had happened.

"It's a shame to sit here and talk when there's this great orchestra."

Crowley intervened and said flatly, "Aziraphale obviously doesn't feel like dancing with you." 

The mustachioed man turned to him with a grin.

"What does that have to do with you, Mr. Crowley?"

Aziraphale, feeling the anger rising in him, replied, "It has everything to do with him. I'm here with Crowley. He invited me and I accepted. Because I wanted to be with him." 

On fire, Aziraphale didn't notice Crowley's surprised look. 

The other snorted, "Is that true? You expect me to believe that Crowley here is really your date? When you've turned down every single one of my invitations. How could he be any better?" 

Aziraphale stood and approached the man, hissing in a low voice, "He's billions of times better than you could ever dream; I don't care what you think. Just as I don't care about your invitations. But there is one thing you need to know, and that is that I will not hesitate to use some of my connections if you don't leave immediately. Like Crowley's mother, who's organizing this gala." 

The man opened his mouth to protest, but seeing the anger in Aziraphale's eyes, he decided to turn and walk away.

Aziraphale didn't take his eyes off him until he was sure he wasn't coming back, and it was a chuckle from Crowleyle that made him turn around. His irritation melted like snow in the sun at the sight of his friend's broad smile. 

He was about to sit back down when Crowley shook his head and stood up, holding out his hand, "Will you dance with me?"

Aziraphale took his friend's hand, a warmth building inside him as soon as their hands joined.

"With you? Of course."

Crowley led him to the center of the dance floor as the orchestra began a new piece.

In the distance, Lilith watched them enter the dance floor with a smile, and after a brief instruction to the conductor, the orchestra began to play a slow, romantic waltz.

Crowley, not fooled, murmured, "Mom..."

"Hm?"

Aziraphale lost his confused expression and forgot all about it the moment Crowley's hand came to rest on the small of his back, pressing him to his chest, while his other hand gripped Aziraphale's, intertwining their fingers as they began to turn gently to the rhythm of the soft music.

They twirled and twirled, one song and then another, and as one song followed another, they drew closer, Crowley's arms now wrapped around his waist and Aziraphale's around Crowley's neck. Every part of their bodies touched and their eyes were locked.

Aziraphale felt every fiber of his being react to the music and the feeling of Crowley so close, so real. Never in a million years would he have dared hope for this outside of a dream. Even better, the music clearly had the same effect on Crowley, who did nothing to create distance between them, but on the contrary, did everything to reduce it. 

Aziraphale smiled gently and dared to put his hands on Crowley's lower back and his head on his shoulder. The dance, such as it was, required no concentration or skill, so he closed his eyes and simply swayed in Crowley's arms, breathing in the warm, sensual scent of his skin where his neck met the collar of his shirt. He could feel his friend's heart beating steadily against his cheek and sighed with satisfaction, thinking that he wouldn't mind if they stayed like this forever. 

Unfortunately, Lilith's voice over the loudspeakers broke the spell.

"It's midnight, my friends. It's time."

“Time for what?” murmured Aziraphale, drowsy with contentment. He looked up at Crowley's face without removing his hands from his back, and saw a strange expression there again. His friend's lips were close to his face as he replied, "Fireworks, I suppose."

Crowley continued to hold him for a moment before slowly pulling away until Aziraphale's hands slid down his arms and landed on his hands, pulling him a little farther away.

Indeed, everyone headed for the large bay windows and the first shower of colorful rockets drew all eyes skyward with oohs and aahs of delight. Lilith had clearly outdone herself in impressing her guests, and the sky quickly filled with a thousand fleeting stars and deafening noise.

Aziraphale watched with wondering eyes as he felt a hand take his. Forgetting the spectacle outside, he turned to Crowley. His friend didn't bother to speak over the cheering and crackling and nodded to a slightly out of the way corner, a window embrasure hidden by heavy velvet curtains. Aziraphale nodded, and Crowley immediately pulled him by the hand to the spot he had just shown him. They stopped in the window embrasure, hidden by the curtains but illuminated by the glow of the fireworks they could see on the other side of the window, Aziraphale's hand still in Crowley's.

Aziraphale looked at Crowley, whose face was very close. There was enough light to see his eyes, his gaze more intense than ever. Aziraphale's pulse quickened when Crowley didn't look away, and he held his breath when a hand came up to rest on his cheek.

Aziraphale couldn't help but whisper, "Are you going to kiss me?"

Crowley laughed slightly, his voice deep and sensual as he replied, "Yes, unless you stop me."

"Never."

That was all it took for Crowley to lean in gently until his lips brushed Aziraphale's, so softly that it sent Aziraphale into a kind of agony. A sweet agony.

The kiss quickly became more intense and lingered, their lips slowly getting to know each other.

Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley's waist to press against him, erasing any hint of distance, and in response, Crowley parted Aziraphale's lips with a gentle flick of his tongue, deepening the kiss until there was nothing left but them.

Fireworks, music, crowds, lights - all had disappeared, leaving only them. 

When Crowley's mouth left his, Aziraphale whimpered, but the warm lips landed on his cheek, leaving a trail of searing kisses down his neck before returning to his half-open lips, which let out small gasps. 

"Anthony..."

"Say it again..."

"Anthony..."

As if starved by all those lost years, Crowley's lips picked up the whisper of his first name on Aziraphale's lips, leading to another kiss that lasted until they had no choice but to separate to catch their breath.

Between gasps, Crowley asked, "When did it start?" 

"For me? The first day. It was always there, but it just got stronger."

Crowley murmured, "So long. We're both idiots."

Aziraphale raised his hand and gently stroked his lover's cheek, "But we're here now, that's all that matters."

Anthony leaned his cheek into his lover's hand and nodded.

"Yes. It is."

Gradually, still entwined, they made contact with reality, sounds and light, but it was as if they weren't part of it.

Crowley asked in a playful tone, "This sounds cliché, but...your place or mine?" 

Aziraphale replied in the same tone, "It doesn't matter where, as long as we're both there."

"My place then. I'm the closest."

Aziraphale nodded and immediately Crowley took his hand and pulled him behind him, they quickly grabbed their coats under the astonished looks of the waitresses, the fireworks weren't over, the entrance was deserted and they could leave quietly without being noticed.

It would have taken them less than five minutes to get to Crowley's if they hadn't stopped every few seconds to take advantage of a darker corner to kiss. It was as if, now that they were both letting their desires run wild, it was impossible for them to control themselves. 

Arriving at Crowley's, Aziraphale hesitated slightly for the first time.

It hadn't even been an hour.

What if they ruined everything by rushing in?

What if...

A hand gripping his chin snapped him out of his spiral as Crowley said quietly, "We don't have to do anything tonight, or tomorrow, or even a week from now. In fact, I don't care what we do or when. I just don't want us to part tonight."

A sigh of relief escaped Aziraphale's lips as Crowley's thumb gently caressed his kiss-swollen lips.

"Neither do I. I don't want us to part tonight. But..."

"But?"

"If we could just slow down a little."

"Whatever you want, my angel."

"My angel?"

"You call me Anthony so I can call you my angel."

Aziraphale murmured, "Say it again."

"My angel."

"Again..."

Crowley smiled and leaned forward, murmuring against his lover's half-open lips, "My angel."

Then they said nothing more as he captured Aziraphale's lips in a kiss that was both sweet and passionate. They didn't know who moaned first as Aziraphale's tongue brushed along Crowley's lower lip, but it didn't matter. In the seconds that followed, their tongues intertwined in a wild, feverish dance, both finally giving free rein to the passion that had inhabited them for so long. 

When they had to pull away to catch their breath, Crowley bit Aziraphale's lip before gently releasing it. 

Forehead to forehead, they gasped for breath.

Then Aziraphale raised his hand and, tucking a lock of Crowley's hair behind his ear, said with a breath, "We've waited so long. I don't want to wait any longer. Take me to your bedroom now."

"Aziraphale, you-

"Yes." Then, a mischievous gleam in his eyes, he said softly, "But only if you keep calling me your angel."

Crowley laughed, took his lover's hand, and they were both still laughing when he closed the bedroom door behind them.

The next morning, they awoke to each of their phones vibrating insistently on the nightstand.

With a synchronized sigh, they extricated themselves from each other and picked up the phones to read their messages.

"My mom asks me if I'm going to refuse to come to next year's gala now that I have a partner. Then she tells me to say hello."

"Give her my best. As for me, I have three messages, do you want to know?"

"Even if I say no, I know you'll read them to me anyway."

"Um, Muriel asks me if the evening was everything I hoped it would be, Maggie asks me to fill her in on all the details, and Nina...ahem..."

Crowley turned and then slid over Aziraphale, his elbows framing his face as he said teasingly, "You're making me very curious now, my angel."

Blushing, Aziraphale replied, "Nina asks if we broke the mattress..."

Crowley leaned over and, after planting a kiss on his lover's nose, said, "Answer her that we almost did."

Aziraphale's eyes widened, then they both laughed as he texted Nina exactly what Crowley had suggested. 

At the same time, at Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death, the coffee shop on Whickber Street, Nina, phone in hand, threw her cleaning rag in the air and exclaimed, "They did it!"

Word spread like wildfire that the bookseller and his handsome, longtime friend were finally together.

The Whickber street gossips would have to find another target.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable fan fictions Masterpost : here

[thelonelyempath]

M!Crush x F!Reader: Miscommunications Happen

THEME: Angsty Fluff

WARNING(s): Argument, Breakup Tease, Nightmare, Anxiety

"Why the fuck would you just cheat on me like that?!" he growled, venom dripping from every word. "I gave you so much!"

"I didn't cheat on you!"

"Then what the fuck is going on?"

You didn't even know what was happening. Why did he have this idea that you were cheating on him? Him, your boyfriend, C/N, the love of your life. You would never do that to him!

"I don't know what's going on," you defeatedly answered him. "but I never cheated on you and I never would cheat on you."

"You can't even give me a straight answer right now. God I was such a fucking idiot to think I could trust you!"

"C/N-"

"No, don't C/N me. We're done. I can't believe I wasted my time on you." And out the door he went, leaving you a crying mess.

"Baby?" C/N called in a hushed voice, rubbing your shoulder and ever so slightly shaking you. "Baby, wake up."

You shot up in a panicked cold sweat, struggling to catch your breath. C/N had his hands on your shoulders, helping to ground you.

"Breathe." he instructed. "You're okay. I've got you."

Once your breathing finally settled, you looked up at your boyfriend to see him looking back at you with warmth in his eyes.

"Were you having a nightmare, sweetheart?"

You nodded.

"I could tell. You were hyperventilating in your sleep."

He noticed how shaky you were and pulled you into him, holding you close against his chest. After putting a kiss on your forehead, he lay back down with you.

"What happened, baby?" he asked. "What made it so scary?"

"You broke up with me." you replied, causing your boyfriend's eyes to widen in confusion. "I don't know why, but you thought I was cheating on you and I wasn't. When I tried to tell you I wasn't, you didn't want to hear it and left me. And the whole thing just felt so real."

"Well, thankfully, it wasn't real. I'm still very much your boyfriend and I am not going anywhere. You mean way too much for me to just walk out on you like that."

The more he talked, the more you started to relax.

"Miscommunications happen, love." he continued. "I would try to talk through it with you. I wouldn't just leave. And for the record, I know you would never cheat on me. I'd never do it to you either. Now do me a favor and go back to sleep, baby. You'll feel so much better in the morning."

You nestled into his chest and he kissed your forehead once again. With his arms wrapped around you and the sound of his heartbeat, you felt yourself starting to drift back to dreamland. Eventually, you were out like a light. It's amazing how loved and safe he could make you feel.

"I love you." he whispered. "Sweet dreams, my love."

[timid-owl]

Viktor's character through The Line lyrics

I can't fight this time, now.

How tired do you think Viktor is of pain, of having to constantly bear his ill, weak, failing body that has been dragging him down for so many years? How hard has it been that he's so tired he can't fight it any longer?

Honestly, I thought I was fully prepared for the threshold in store.

I guess I never really faced my fears before.

How scared do you think he is of losing himself one final time and for good? Is it why he has conjured the Hex-Sky, to remind himself of who he was and what he stood for? To keep him on course? Like an echo of himself, that now he has to abandon?

Stay with me.

Keep the memories of who I was before.

I think that's really heart-wrenching how he's equally scared and doesn't want to face it alone, and at the same time, he's trying to keep a part of himself alive somewhere, even in someone else's mind.

Did I disappoint you?

I do interpret the whole song as both a dialogue with himself and with Jayce. I like to think that after their Council room session, they kept some mental connection, and here it's Viktor asking the question to both Jayce and himself.

Stay your pretty eyes on course.

Do you think it's the first time Viktor refers to Jayce's eyes as pretty? Do you think, if it is in fact a dialogue, it feels like a slap to Jayce? Like he can't breathe, like it hurts, like he wants to scream but there is no air as it is far too late.

I guess I never really faced my fears before.

Now you may say, "But Viktor was once literally prepared to die." Sure, but that time he would have died before losing himself. That was the whole point: leave while still remaining precisely who he was. And now he's at the verge of completely destroying everything his very self is and going against his every principle, which is precisely the worst of his fears.

Now to the angstiest parts.

Sure, there's nothing left to try?

I do believe that is meant like a question, same as "stay with me?" Like a final cry for help, like he's hoping Jayce — or something — might save him after all. Like if maybe Jayce would have intervened right here, right now, while they're all gathered around Viktor's hex-egg thing, he would have changed his mind immediately. Which is also why it's sort of full of contradictions and questions like he's babbling - stay with me but I'd rather you not, will they let me over if a do that... But there is no answer, and nobody is there for him anymore.

Will they still let me over?

This I tend to interpret in quite a biblical way, as in "people who, let's say, cross the line are not let into heaven." So... yeah, they won't, and even if there is I guess no details on Piltover's religion it's still ment in a rhetorical way as Viktor knows they won't, there is no possible redemption after this. And what Viktor is worrying about is not "crossing the line of shroom genocide" but more "crossing the line of not existing anymore" (I again think it's literally in the text, barely an interpretation). Like he is leaving his final note, and while he's writing it, he tries to find something, anything, that would keep him from doing the thing. But, again, there is nothing left aside from the light on his face.

Again, for me, this being a dialogue, I also feel like the "stay your pretty eyes on course" is his way of shutting Jayce up when the su*c*de metaphor gets too close to the surface. Like Jayce would start to protest, and Viktor would shush him. It even translates in the rhythm of the lyrics:

What could be, my final form Stay your pretty eyes on course

Honestly, I thought I was fully prepared for The threshold in store Stay your pretty eyes on course.

So yeah, I think the way it's so tender but also so devastating and desperate is probably one of the most beautiful, brilliant things the show gave us.

[kathlare]

through the storm

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: After a challenging race in Suzuka, Lando wrestles with doubts about his performance and an unsettling distance in his relationship with Amelie. Meanwhile, Amelie struggles with her growing feelings for him, haunted by the fear of vulnerability and past mistakes.

Wordcount: 3.4 k

Warnings: just fluff

request over here!

April 6th, 2024 - Susuka, Japan

The roar of the Japanese crowd was deafening, even as the race had come to an end. The Suzuka circuit always brought out the passion of motorsport fans, and today was no exception. Lando stood on the pit wall, his helmet tucked under his arm, sweat clinging to his brow as he replayed the final laps in his head. From a promising P3 to finishing P5—it wasn’t a disaster, but it stung. He knew the car had more in it, knew he had more in him, but sometimes racing was just… unforgiving.

Still, the race wasn’t what occupied his mind. Not fully. Not even close.

Amelie.

She had been avoiding him for days, and it was driving him insane. At first, he thought it was just her schedule—she was filming, traveling, doing a million other things that made her life the whirlwind it always was. But this was different. Her texts had become shorter, her calls less frequent. And when they did speak, it felt… off. Like she was holding something back.

Lando let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his damp hair as he made his way toward the McLaren hospitality. Fans lined the paddock, shouting his name, waving flags, and holding out memorabilia for him to sign. He forced a smile, stopping briefly to greet a few before retreating into the relative quiet of the team’s lounge.

He grabbed a bottle of water, slumping into a chair as he scrolled through his phone. There was a text from Max, a meme from Keegan, and a sarcastic message from Oliver about his start. But nothing from her.

Nothing.

Lando frowned, his thumb hovering over her contact. He debated calling her, but something stopped him. If she didn’t want to talk to him, what was the point of pushing? Yet, the thought of her slipping away—again—made his chest tighten in a way that was all too familiar.

—Earth to Norris.—

Lando looked up to see Oscar Piastri grinning at him, a towel slung over his shoulder. —You alright, mate? You’ve got that look.—

—What look?— Lando asked, though he already knew the answer.

—The one where you’re thinking about her,— Oscar said, plopping down in the chair across from him. —You’re not as subtle as you think.—

Lando rolled his eyes, but the faint flush on his cheeks gave him away. —She’s just… busy.—

Oscar raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. —Busy, huh? Or avoiding you?—

Lando shot him a sharp look. —She’s not avoiding me.—

—Right,— Oscar said, dragging out the word. —Because the girl you’ve been quietly dating for months suddenly going radio silent is completely normal.—

Lando groaned, leaning back in his chair and covering his face with his hands. —I don’t know what I did wrong.—

—Maybe it’s not about you,— Oscar said, his tone surprisingly gentle. —Girls are complicated, mate. They get in their heads about stuff, overthink things. Maybe she’s just figuring something out.—

Lando let out a bitter laugh. —Or maybe she’s figuring out that she doesn’t want to be with me.—

Oscar gave him a look. —Now you’re the one overthinking. She’s crazy about you, everyone can see it. Just… give her time.—

Lando nodded, though the knot in his stomach didn’t ease. Time. That was the one thing he hated giving her—because he knew how easily time could pull them apart. It had happened before.

Halfway across the world, the rain tapped lightly against the window of Amelie's room, a soothing rhythm that did nothing to calm the storm inside her. Amelie sat cross-legged on the bed, her laptop open in front of her, though she hadn’t typed a single word in the past hour. Her mind was a mess, and no matter how hard she tried to focus on work, it always circled back to one thing.

One person.

Lando.

She closed her eyes, leaning her head against the cool glass of the window. She could still hear his laugh in her head, see the way his eyes lit up when he teased her, feel the warmth of his hand in hers. And it terrified her.

She was in love with him.

The realization had hit her like a freight train a few days ago, and ever since, she had been spiraling. Loving Lando wasn’t the problem—it was the fear that came with it. The fear of losing him. Of getting hurt. Of things falling apart like they had before.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, and she reached for it hesitantly. It was Elysia.

Elysia Dayman: I’m here. Open the door.

Amelie blinked in surprise. She hadn’t told Elysia she was struggling—not directly, at least—but somehow, her sister always knew. She hurried to the door, pulling it open to find Elysia standing there, suitcase in hand and a knowing look on her face.

—You look like shit,— Elysia said bluntly, stepping inside.

—Nice to see you too,— Amelie replied, shutting the door behind her.

Elysia set her suitcase down and turned to face her. —Alright, spill. What’s going on?—

Amelie hesitated, her hands twisting nervously. —I… I don’t know.—

—Bullshit,— Elysia said, crossing her arms. —This is about Lando, isn’t it?��

Amelie’s silence was answer enough.

Elysia sighed, softening slightly as she sat down on the bed. —Amelie, you can’t keep running from this.—

—I’m not running,— Amelie argued weakly.

—You’re hiding,— Elysia countered, her voice firm but not unkind. —There’s a difference. But it doesn’t matter, because either way, you’re avoiding him. And for what?—

Amelie sat down beside her, her hands trembling slightly as she buried her face in them. —Because I’m scared, okay? I’m scared of messing this up. Of losing him again. Of… everything.—

Elysia reached over, pulling Amelie’s hands away from her face and forcing her to meet her eyes. —Listen to me. I know what happened before hurt you. I know how hard it was for you to let him back into your life after everything. But Amelie… you did let him back in. That says something. And so does the way he looks at you. He’s not going anywhere.—

Amelie felt her throat tighten, her vision blurring with unshed tears. —But what if it’s not enough? What if we end up ruining everything?—

Elysia’s expression softened further, and she reached out, taking Amelie’s hands in hers. —You can’t live your life waiting for things to go wrong. Love is messy, Amelie. It’s terrifying and complicated, and sometimes it doesn’t work out. But sometimes… it does. And when it does, it’s worth everything.—

Amelie stared at her sister, the weight of her words sinking in. She wanted to believe that, to believe that what she had with Lando was worth the risk. But the fear was still there, gnawing at the edges of her resolve.

—Do you love him?— Elysia asked gently.

Amelie’s breath hitched, and for a moment, she couldn’t speak. Then, finally, she whispered, —Yes. I do.—

Elysia smiled, her grip on Amelie’s hands tightening. —Then that’s all that matters. Stop overthinking it and just… tell him. He deserves to know how you feel. And so do you.—

Amelie nodded slowly, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew Elysia was right. She couldn’t keep avoiding this, couldn’t keep avoiding him. She had to face her feelings, no matter how scary it was.

Later that night, after Elysia had gone to bed, Amelie sat on the edge of the bed with her phone in her hands. The screen was bright in the dimly lit room, Lando’s contact photo staring back at her. Her thumb hovered over the call button, her nerves threatening to get the better of her.

But then she remembered Elysia’s words, the certainty in her sister’s voice, and she forced herself to press the button before she could change her mind.

The phone rang twice before Lando’s face appeared on the screen, his hair damp from a shower and a tired but familiar smile tugging at his lips. —Hey,— he said, his voice soft and warm in a way that made her chest ache.

—Hey,— she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence stretching between them like a fragile thread. Then Lando tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly. —You okay?—

Amelie nodded, though the tears threatening to spill from her eyes betrayed her. —I’m sorry,— she said suddenly, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. —I’m sorry for avoiding you, for making you think I didn’t care. I just… I didn’t know how to handle everything I was feeling.—

Lando’s expression softened, and he leaned closer to the screen, his gaze searching hers. —Ames, you don’t have to apologize. I just… I didn’t know what was going on, and I was worried I’d done something wrong.—

—You didn’t,— she said quickly, her voice trembling. —You didn’t do anything wrong. This is all on me. I was scared, Lando. Scared of how much you mean to me. Scared of losing you. But I… I don’t want to keep running from this. From us.—

Lando’s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, he looked like he didn’t know what to say. Then he smiled, the kind of smile that made her heart skip a beat. —Baby… you have no idea how much I needed to hear that.—

Amelie let out a shaky breath, her lips curving into a small, tentative smile. —I’ve been a mess, Lando. Elysia had to fly all the way here to knock some sense into me.—

He chuckled, his voice warm and teasing. —Remind me to send Elysia a thank-you card. Or flowers. Actually, both.—

She laughed softly, the sound easing some of the tension that had been weighing on her chest for days. —I think she’d appreciate that.—

Lando shifted on his end of the call, propping his chin on his hand as his gaze softened. —So… does this mean you’re done avoiding me?—

Amelie nodded, her voice steady despite the way her heart raced. —Yeah. No more avoiding you. I promise.—

—Good,— he said, his tone light but sincere. —Because I don’t know how much longer I could’ve gone without hearing your voice. It’s been hell not talking to you.—

She bit her lip, her cheeks warming at his words. —I missed you too. More than I realized.—

They fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that came so easily between them. Then Lando’s eyes lit up, a mischievous glint dancing in them. —So, Coachella. You ready to blow everyone’s minds next weekend?—

Amelie groaned, flopping back against the pillows. —Don’t remind me. I’m terrified, Lando. Singing at Coachella is huge. What if I mess up?—

—You won’t,— he said firmly, his confidence in her unwavering. —You’re going to be incredible, like always. And besides, I’ll be there to cheer you on.—

Her brows lifted in surprise. —Wait, you’re coming?—

He grinned, his smile practically lighting up the screen. —Of course, I’m coming. Did you really think I’d miss your big moment? The guys are coming too, Charles, Alex, George. We’ve got it all planned. We’ll be your loudest fans.—

Amelie’s heart swelled at the thought of him being there, of having that kind of support. —You’re unbelievable, you know that?—

—In the best way, I hope,— he quipped, his grin turning playful.

—In the best way,— she agreed, her voice soft.

Lando’s expression grew more serious then, his gaze holding hers through the screen. —Ames… I know we’ve been keeping this quiet, and I’m okay with that. But just so you know, I’m proud of us. Of you. And no matter what anyone else thinks, I’m not going anywhere.—

Her throat tightened, and she blinked quickly to keep the tears at bay. —Thank you, Lando. For everything. For being patient with me. I don’t deserve you.—

—Hey,— he said, his tone gentle but firm. —Don’t say that. You deserve the world, Amelie. And I’m lucky to have you.—

She smiled, her heart feeling lighter than it had in days. —You’re kind of perfect, you know that?—

He laughed, the sound warm and familiar. —Not even close. But I’m glad you think so.—

They spent the next hour talking, their conversation drifting from Coachella plans to playful banter about which of their friends would embarrass themselves first at the festival. The weight that had been pressing on Amelie’s chest was gone, replaced by a warmth that only Lando could bring.

As the call came to an end, Lando tilted his head, his gaze soft and full of something that made her heart flutter. —Get some rest, okay? And don’t overthink next weekend. You’re going to be amazing.—

—Thanks, Lan,— she said, her voice filled with gratitude. —Goodnight.—

—Goodnight, Ames,— he replied, a small smile on his lips. —I’ll see you soon.—

As the screen went dark, Amelie leaned back against the pillows, a sense of peace washing over her. She still didn’t know what the future held, but for the first time in days, she felt ready to face it. Because with Lando by her side, she knew she could handle anything.