#he's not really a *human* who craves silly things like *love* or *family* or *security* or anything no no no

[krispycreamsicle]

Song-daozhang, sometimes I feel like you educated people are really the worst at cursing. You just repeat the same words. Nothing creative. No killing power. I haven't used those words since I was seven.

[athyathye]

Falling in love all over again

Moments with the boys where they fell for you again

(Mikey, Draken and Baji)

Author's note 📝: this really be testing my poetic skills lmao caution on baji's tho! I was listening to bts - the truth untold JASJJDDJ

Warnings ⚠️: Slight profanities and Baji's part, oh and slight mention of suìcīd3 on Draken’s part

Mikey :

Mikey believed in the impossible, he craved the unknown and was never one to shy away from adventure. He believed in anything and everything you could make him.

People who told him he can’t were the cause of his motivation to overcome what was it that he couldn’t do.

So when one day, you barged into his hectic and dangerous life without a single care, he was curious. Curiosity turned into infatuation then it turned to one he hoped was love.

It was a falsified notion of love they said, but did he care? No. Did he listen? No.

And he was thankful he was stubborn, cause then he wouldn’t have urged himself so hard to bag you. A smile that could outshine even the brightest of stars, A touch more electrifying than the buzz of gang fights that provided him with joy.

He watched you, the side of his face on the table. Watching the way you looked effortlessly beautiful even with your hair a mangled mess and face puffed up from your nap with him.

The way you delicately moved each page of a book you were reading made him feel fragile himself if he was being honest.

Your blissful smiles as striking as a valuable diamond that could sell for millions, he thought he was being dramatic.

But no, you were just that beautiful and enchanting to him. And he realized that by the way you turned to look at him whenever you found a silly scene from that book of yours that he didn’t even care about.

He could live like this forever. The space he has in your heart is tight enough to suffocate him, but wide enough to let him move and breathe freely.

“You look dazed” You spoke with a soft tone, brushing his hair that was covering half of his lower face.

“Yeah?” He replied, focused on the way you were focused on him.

Not only did you give him peace, love and secureness you provided him with these kinds of interactions that always made his heart skip a beat.

Now he was sounding like an elementary kid dreaming of love. But true to his words, he wondered how could he love someone like this, he didn’t think anything could make him love more than his own family, but you had proven him wrong.

Like the numerous times he proved his friends wrong to do some idiotic nonsense that could land him in the hospital.

“Careful there, you might fall for me” “I already have, numerous times.”

Draken :

The ever-rational Draken.

Though he wasn’t the most sane person, with his people he was one of the ones who actually thought.

It’s not a surprise that he didn’t believe in love.

He believed that “Love at first sight” is a pervasive and harmful myth common in human culture, pushed heavily by those who wanted to make money.

Writing poems about golden hair until their ink dries up or their fingers become immobilised or they commit because of the pain of rejection by throwing themselves off a cliff.

Do you even know how to fall in love, you prick?

There was no way you could love someone just by the first glance, no. It might have been just physical attraction, no way can one fall for a stranger who doesn't even know a single thing about you.

But he was proven wrong.

Striking him down with millions of bolts from the first eye contact, a smile that crushed his heart with no mercy. You were ineffable.

As mellifluous as a record that he wanted to play over and over again. The moment that was an epoch to his life that showed him just how clueless he was about the world.

You were the person who told him to not set boundaries, to let the world teach him instead of believing things that were so absurd to hear.

This is going to sound ridiculous, and he was most certainly not the kind of person that would say this kind of thing. But with you?

A bundle of epiphany you were.

He swears, he could relive the moment you just walked past him without a care in the world.

The way he choked on his food only to get laughed at by Mikey and the others.

And now here you were, enjoying a serene moment with him in his place, He knew your warmth was real.

There were just some things that needed to be left undiscovered, he thought as he snuggled more into your peaceful body.

“You smell nice” He heard you utter, goosebumps rising on his body by the warm breath you produced on his neck.

“Just took a shower, course I do” He said curtly as he kissed your forehead, to which you smiled so cutely at in his opinion.

It was the first time he felt himself smile so widely that his cheeks hurt.

He mumbled a small statement before closing his eyes along with you. “Thank you, God”

Baji :

Baji has interesting thoughts. Though he wasn’t good in academics, they way he pondered life itself was truly something out of the ordinary.

When asked about falling in love at first sight, he didn’t care. It wasn’t something he needed to know about, at least he thought he didn't need to know about it.

But you managed to make him rethink all of his opinions and expectations just by making eye contact with him at gym class, winking at him when he got caught staring at you.

This is the “love at first sight” phenomenon.

It’s not “love” yet, and not “love” at first sight, but there was that instant attraction that kept him wanting to know more, to get closer, and find ways to be around you.

So in a way, yes. It was love at first sight for him, though it took him time to realize that it was.

….But who was he to taint the beautiful you.

Baji couldn’t go to you, he had no place in your heart nor did he want to entangle you to his life.

And quite frankly, Love wasn’t his priority right now, it was friends.

He couldn’t show you his shabby self, he didn’t want you to see the ugly side of life.

For someone who claimed that he never wanted to be a fool just for love, He desperately held himself back from loving you, from falling deeper for you.

Hurting himself in order to not make the possibility of hurting you.

But he still wanted you, he craved your light, to hear your voice calling out to him, he craved the future with you that he knew would never happen.

He still wanted the flower that was you, bloomed in a garden he could never enter, to pick you when he was shrouded with loneliness.

He did nothing to get to you, he lost, or was more like eliminated himself in the race before he could even enter.

But still, the world was kind enough to give him small appeasements.

“You looked troubled...I always eat sweets whenever my thoughts get too rampant” you uttered with a smile on your face, bending down to be at eye level with him, a variety of candies in your hand reached out to him.

“Thinking too much can be miserable, just do what you feel like doing” You told him on that day, the day he offered himself to save his friends.

How stupid. How utterly stupid of him to think that he could make a future with you after the fiasco had happened.

“Will you leave me too?” He asked you, after your advice, making you extremely confused.

“H-huh?” “Nothing.  Don’t mind me, I think I'm gonna go crazy from my thoughts so I guess you’re right. I should just do whatever”

“If I had somehow, just a little

Gathered some courage

And stood in front of you

Would everything be different?”

He thought as he lay on his deathbed, mind filled with his treasure, you and Toman.

It looked like he was the one who left, not you.

“....I still want you.”

[hercleverboy]

taunted

spencer reid x reader 

summary ↠ hours after his release from prison, spencer’s girlfriend is kidnapped. can he pull it together long enough to save her?

category ↠ angst/fluff

warnings/includes ↠ swearing, reference to sexual assault, blood, kidnapping

word count ↠ 5.7k

“People go, but how they left always stays.” — Rupi Kaur

Spencer felt overwhelmed to say the least. 

In the last 24 hours, he’d undergone more stress than any human should ever have to endure. Between his release from prison and racing against the clock to save his mother, he was grateful to finally able to take a moment to stop and breathe. 

In between the chaos, he hadn’t been able to see one of the people he’d missed the most during his imprisonment; his beloved fiancee, Y/N. 

He knew that the team had contacted her to inform her of his release, but there’d been no time for heartfelt reunions when he was released, the safety of his mother being the only thing on his mind. As much as he’d missed his girl, it would have to wait. 

As he stood walked through the lobby of his apartment complex, he couldn’t help the small smile on his lips at the anticipation of seeing her. She’d been to visit frequently while he was incarcerated, giving him just that little push to fight, to fight like hell, to come home to her. And now he was there. 

As he walked up the flights of stairs, he remembered all the times he’d wished he could reach out to grab her hand when she was sat across from him, with the glass separating them and preventing him from touching her. He remembered the sleepless nights in his cell, on a bed that was cold and hard with a single uncomfortable pillow. He recalled how badly he yearned for her on those nights, craved the warmth of her arms, their bed.  He was so eager to finally hold her in his arms, remind her how much he loved her, thank her for sticking with him, for being his lifeline during the hardest months of his life. 

Any excitement that he held was diminished as soon as he climbed the final few steps to their floor, his eyes landing on their apartment door. 

Their open apartment door. 

Spencer’s eyes blew wide, part of him trying to calm himself down, she just forgot to close it behind her, and the other part knowing Y/N was too cautious to make such a silly mistake. 

He wasn’t armed, after all he wasn’t planning on having to deal with shit like this for at least a few weeks following his release. 

He cautiously made his way into the apartment and was immediately greeted with the obvious signs of a struggle in his living room. The coffee table’s contents had been scattered across the floor, the little table they normally placed cups of tea or snacks on had toppled over. The pretty white vase that Y/N’s mother had bought the couple a few years back was shattered on the floor, the yellow daffodils that had been inside the vase laying there limply. By the fireplace was a small pool of blood, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out who it belonged to. 

Seeing the blood sent Spencer into a panic, his breathing increasing as he anxiously called out for her, opening up the doors to their bedroom and the bathroom, finding all the rooms empty. 

He ran a hand through his hair and down his face as he tried to steady his breathing, so that he could think. 

“She’s not here, She’s not here, She’s not-” Three whispered words were all that left his lips, a broken mantra filled with worry and despair. 

*

“Okay, let’s start from the beginning, how did the unsub even gain entry to the apartment?” Rossi asked, grimacing at the state of the room around them. 

After coming to the realisation that his fiancee was missing and had indeed been taken, Spencer had called Emily, who’d assembled the team together to help the distraught genius. Emily sent Garcia, Luke and Matt to the BAU headquarters to work from there, while the rest of the team met up with Spencer at his apartment. 

Once they’d arrived, they found Spencer outside, anxiously pacing the hallway outside the door as he mumbled to himself, desperately trying to fight off the raging headache he had. JJ was quick to attempt to console him, but to no avail. His brain was essentially mush. As if the stress of everything he’d been through wasn’t enough- the love of his life was missing, potentially dead, and he couldn’t even string together a coherent sentence. How was he supposed to help? 

Emily had nodded to the rest of the team, silently telling them to head inside the apartment to check things out while she came to stand in front of Spencer. 

“Reid? Reid. I know this is a lot but I need you to listen to me. You can’t be here. You’re not in the right headspace for this. You’re better off back at the BAU with Garcia, Luke and Matt.” Emily tried. She didn’t want to upset him further but it was the best thing for him. There was no chance of him thinking clearly at the scene, so sending him back to HQ was the best option. 

Spencer knew that. However it didn’t stop him from looking at Emily with anger flaring in his eyes. “You’re not seriously kicking me off the case? My fiancee is missing-” His voice raised but Emily cut him off. 

“I’m not kicking you off the case. Y/N is a part of this family and we won’t rest until she’s home, but you’re not gonna be able to think here, Spencer. I’m just trying to do what’s best for you.” She promised and he nodded, forcing him self not to grunt in pain as his splitting headache worsened. 

*

As he stepped off of the elevator, his legs carried him quickly through the glass doors into the bullpen. He b-lined for the conference room, where Garcia, Luke Matt were sat at the roundtable. Garcia was typing away furiously at her laptop, Matt looking over her shoulder whilst Luke reviewed pictures from the crime scene. When Spencer entered the room Garcia looked up, her fingers faltering. 

“Reid..” Garcia started, but quickly realised she didn’t know what to say. 

Spencer said nothing, stalking toward her and leaning his hands on the table. “Emily told me you’re looking at security footage from outside our apartment complex? Did you see anything?” 

Garcia exchanged a look of sadness with Matt before clearing her throat. “Uh, the cameras outside the lobby caught the kidnappers vehicle as it left, a blue Sedan, but it’s too dark for us to make out the plates.” 

“Did the camera’s catch her being taken?” His voice was quiet but sturdy. The coldness of his tone almost made Garcia shiver. 

“Yes.” She squeaked out. 

“Show me.” He demanded, walking to her other side so he could lean over her shoulder to watch. 

Matt shifted, standing up straight. “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea, Reid.”

“Did I ask?” He spat, not bothering to spare Matt a glance as he looked at Garcia’s laptop screen. “ I said show me.” 

“O-Okay.” She murmured, clicking a few buttons before the video started up. 

The four of them watched intently as a man in a dark hoodie carried an unconscious Y/N out the front doors of the complex. Spencer noted the splotch of red on her forehead, likely from where the bastard had hit her to knock her out.  The man forcefully shoved her in the back of the car that waited by the front of the building, before moving to get into the drivers seat and taking off. 

Spencer was gripping the edge of the roundtable with such force that his knuckles were white, and it seemed a miracle that the wood hadn’t splintered under his force. 

Luke spoke first. “Did we get a good enough look at his face?” 

Garcia shook her head. “Not really. His back was to the camera’s a lot.” 

Matt sighed. “It means he knew where they were, and how to avoid them. This kidnapping was planned, likely weeks in advance.” 

Spencer slammed his hands down on the table, and Garcia let out a yelp at the sudden movement. “So we have nothing then?” He yelled, starting to pace the end of the conference room, his hands gripping handful’s of his hair. 

“I’ll call Emily and see if they found anything at the scene.” Matt mumbled, quickly leaving the room. 

Spencer rubbed as his eyes frustratedly, before turning toward Luke and Garcia. “You guys need to get out.” 

“What?”

“Get out, you need to get out. I’m sorry but I need to think, I need to focus and I can’t do that with you here.” He ushered the two out of the conference room, slamming the door shut behind them as he looked around frantically. He grabbed the photos that were on the table that Luke was previously looking at. He stared at them, willing his brain to work, hoping he’d figure out what he was missing. He quickly grew frustrated with his lack of progress, picking up one of the books from the table and throwing it at the wall in his angry haste. 

Garcia gasped, a loud bang sounding from the conference room where Reid was working tirelessly to find Y/N. She shared a look with Luke, who shrugged. The pair quickly moved toward the room, gently opening the door, to find Spencer pacing the room anxiously, running his hands through his hair as he tried to control his breathing. 

Spencer didn’t know what to do. He’d exhausted the few leads they had, he was mentally and physically exhausted and he wasn’t sure when the last time he ate was. All he knew, all he could think about, was that his girl was out there somewhere, waiting for him to save her. And he wasn’t even close to finding her.

“Reid, I know a lot is going on but you’ve got to try and clear your head-“ Luke started but Spencer interrupted him, his tone cold and unforgiving.

“My fiancée is missing, and I can’t get it together long enough to figure out where she is!” He yelled, and Garcia flinched at his words. He saw the looks on their faces and frowned. “What?”

“You threw a book at the wall..” Garcia mumbled, still cautious of her words.

“If Y/N dies because I was too slow I’ll be throwing a lot more than books.” He seethed, before brushing past the stunned pair.

*

The cold water felt refreshing on his boiling skin as he splashed it against his face in an attempt to calm himself down a little. He gripped the sink tightly in his hands and forced himself to look in the mirror. He wasn’t shocked by what he saw staring back at him. A shell of the man he was before prison. Cold and harsh and unkind, a man who would kill another and still sleep easy. His breaths were heavy and he felt the familiar feeling crawling up his throat, the feeling that he wanted to cry, to sob and plead for everything to just end. Hadn’t he been through enough? 

He choked the feeling down. Crying and pleading weren’t going to bring Y/N back home to him. 

He could feel the panic bubbling within him, and so he forced himself to think of happier times, times where the weight of the world wasn’t on his aching shoulders. He screwed his eyes shut, willing himself to go somewhere better, somewhere happier, even if just for a minute. 

“Spence?”

It was her voice. Oh thank god. 

He blinked his eyes open, his gaze landing on her sat next to him. He immediately knew which memory he was recalling. It was one of the happiest days of his life. 

He’d taken her out that night for dinner and then up a mountain of sorts so they could get to a high enough point where they’d have a perfect view of the stars. He’d explained the constellations to her as she sat next to him, cross-legged with her head resting on his shoulder and his arms around her. 

He looked at her as she stared up at the night sky in awe. He took in every detail of her face, letting it really sink in that she was his, a woman so kind and compassionate and beautiful was all his. She raised her hand to point up toward the sky, an amused smile on her lips. 

“What about that one, what’s it called?”

He was more than happy to tell her.

As they sat in a blissful silence, Spencer noted how this was the happiest he’d felt in a long time. With her, he was sure there could never be a bad day again. 

He broke the silence by clearing his throat, unwrapping his arm from her as she turned to face him, her brow furrowed. 

“Spence? You okay?”

“Yeah- I- Um, I didn’t just bring you out here to watch the stars.” He started, his palms quickly becoming sweaty and his voice dying in his rapidly drying throat. He kept trying to speak, to say the words he’d practiced a thousand times over in his head, but he simply couldn’t form the words. 

She reached out to grab his hand, taking in gently in hers as an act of reassurance. “It’s okay, It’s only me. Take your time.” 

He squeezed her hand in thanks before taking a deep breath and moving up from his seated position, manoeuvering so he was now down on one knee in front of her. He kept the grip on her hand, his other hand reaching into his pocket for the small red box that he’d carried with him for months prior to this moment. 

Y/N gasped when he opened up the box, showcasing the beautiful silver ring sat inside. Her eyes grew wide and filled with tears. 

“Y/N.” He started. “Over the two years, two-hundred-and-seventeen days, six hours and fifteen minutes we’ve been together, there’s not been one moment where I’ve not loved you. Even through petty arguments and silly fights, I have never and will never stop loving you. I don’t think I could if I tried. You’re always there for me when I need you. When a case has been rough, you’re at home waiting to hold me and make everything better. You’ve never failed me, and if you accept this ring, I promise I’ll never fail you. You’re my whole life, Y/N. There is nothing I wouldn’t do if it ensured your safety, if it meant coming home to you. You’re everything I’m ever going to want, you’re everything I need. So Y/N Y/L/N, would you do me the extraordinary honour of marrying me?” 

Words failed her in that moment so all she could do was nod her head as tears cascaded down her cheeks. She launched herself forward, wrapping her arms around him as she cried happily into his neck, and he chuckled to himself, arms wrapping around her securely. 

She pulled back a moment later, swiping her fingers under her eyes to wipe her tears away as she flashed him a breath-taking smile. “Yes.” She answered quietly, watching as he carefully slipped the ring on her finger. she gazed down at it in awe. “It’s beautiful, Spence.” She grinned back up at him, her hands coming to cup his cheeks. 

“You’re beautiful.” He murmured, before moving forward to connect his lips to hers.  

He wished he could cling onto the warmth that bubbled in his chest forever. 

A voice came from behind him, causing his eyes to snap open. He looked behind him, to where Luke stood by the door. 

“Reid, You gotta come. Garcia found something.” 

*

“What have you got Garcia?” Luke called as soon as he entered the conference room, Reid rushing in behind him. 

“I managed to get the footage from the cameras that are outside the shop opposite the apartment complex.” She started, and Reid came to stand next to her, watching the footage play on her laptop. “If I zoom in close enough I should be able to get an ID on our unsub. We can see his face, but it’s still a tad blurry. Not to worry, I’ll work some magic and get it as clear as I can. Hopefully then we can run it through facial recognition and pray it turns up something.” She sounded hopeful, and Reid was grateful for her optimism. 

It wasn’t much, but it was a lead. And honestly that was all he could ask for at that moment. 

*

Garcia skilfully managed to unblur the video they had of the unsub, but facial recognition didn’t turn up any matches or any new leads. The team were at a loss. It had been seventy-two hours since Y/N went missing, and with every hour, the possibility of her coming home alive decreased. Spencer knew the statistics, he knew the chances. it was the curse of an eidetic memory, he supposed.

With every hour, Reid lost more and more of himself, any hope he had being chipped away with the annoying tick of the clock as seconds passed by. He had barely slept, even when being ‘ordered’ to by Emily. The only time he’d slept was when he got so drained and exhausted that he actually passed out for a few hours. He refused to eat, drinking as much caffeine as he could in order to force himself to stay awake. How could he sleep at a time like this? Whenever someone on the team tried to encourage him to eat, if only a few bites of a cereal bar, he’d snap at them. 

Eventually, JJ had had enough. She watched Spencer snap at Luke, who was just trying to encourage him to put something other than coffee in his system. She stood up from her seat, grabbing his wrist and pulling him with her. He attempted to protest but she gave him a look that made him decide that it was best he keep his mouth shut. She pulled them into an empty office, closing the door behind them for privacy.

“You gotta listen to me, Spence.” She spoke calmly. “I know this is killing you. I know how badly you want to find her and bring her home. Everyone out there is trying so hard to do that for you.” She pointed to the doorway to emphasise her point. She dropped her arm back down to her side as she watched him run his hands over his face exhaustedly. “Talk to me.” 

“I just I can’t think straight-” He whimpered out, rubbing his eyes with his hands. “I need her to come home, I can’t live without her.” He got a little choked up, his hands trembling slightly as he desperately tried to keep his emotions in check. 

JJ gently placed her hand on his shoulder, still cautious of touching him since his release from prison, not wanting to alarm or startle him. 

“There’s not a doubt in my mind that we’ll find her. Y/N is tough, she won’t let him break her.”

Spencer nodded, wiping his eyes on the cuffs of his blazer. He was about to thank JJ for her comfort when a knock sounded through the room. Tara came in, a morbid look on her face. “You guys need to come see this.”

When they reach the conference room again, all of the team is gathered around the table, their gazes all trained on the phone in the middle of the table that was ringing.  

Emily looked to Garcia. “Are you ready to trace the call?” 

Garcia nodded. Spencer was about to ask what was happening when Emily reached over, answering the phone and putting it on loud speaker. “This is Agent Emily Prentiss with the FBI, who am I speaking to?” 

“I want to speak with Dr Reid.” The unsub’s voice boomed through the speaker, and Emily exchanged a look with Spencer as she shook her head, placing a finger over her lips. 

“We want proof of life before we negotiate anything with you.” She stated. 

“She’s listening, perfectly alive. I want to speak to Dr Reid.” 

Emily nodded toward Spencer, signalling for him to speak. 

“I’m here.” He spoke, keeping his voice strong despite how he wanted to cry. It was a skill he’d learned in prison- tears equated to weakness, and weakness got you killed. 

“I’d like you to know, I’m feeling generous today.” The unsub sounded like he was smirking on the other end of the line, almost proud. 

“You are? What does that mean?” Spencer continued the conversation on, keeping the unsub on the line long enough for Garcia to get a location. 

“I’ve spent a fair bit of time with Y/N. She’s fierce. Hard one to break, this one.” He was mocking Spencer, taunting him, and he had to try ridiculously hard to keep his building anger in check. “She begs for you, you know? When my punches make pretty bruises bloom across her skin she pleads for you to save her. But she’s tough, always hitting me back with insults. You know earlier, she actually spat at me, the bitch.” He chuckled, and Spencer breathed in deeply, gripping the edges of the table in a death-grip. 

Rossi shot him a look from across the table that said ‘Keep it together’. 

“No worry, I’m sure I can break her. If you give me some more time with her, maybe I can try some.. alternative methods.” 

That was the line for Spencer, who spat through clenched his teeth and stood to hover over the phone. “You listen to me, you son of a bitch, if you touch her I swear to god-“

“I’d be careful about threatening me, or I might not be so generous.” The unsub tutted. 

“What do you want? Tell me what you want in return for Y/N’s safety.”

“This isn’t a bargain, Doctor. This is a kindness. I’m going to let pretty young Y/N speak with you before I kill her. I’m not so much of a monster that I would stand in the way of young love. You have five minutes to talk. You’re welcome.” 

There was more rustling on the phone, and then silence. 

And then finally-

“Spence?” 

Her voice was croaky, likely from the lack of water and her screaming. It sounded so broken, and Spencer’s heart ached because he could tell she was using all of her strength to try and sound okay for him. 

Spencer sighed out of relief. despite how it sounded, proof that she was alive was enough to lift the slightest bit of weight from his shoulders. “It’s me, sweetheart. Are you okay?”

“I think some of my ribs are broken, my wrist definitely is. I’m trying to be strong Spence but I don’t know if I can-“ She choked and tears filled his eyes as he willed them to keep at bay. 

“Y/N, listen to me. I will find you. Do you understand me? You will not die there. You’re gonna come home to me, I promise you that.” The tears he tried to hide away slowly trembled down his cheeks as he made promises that he wasn’t 100% sure he could keep. 

“Spencer. I’m so sorry-“ She started but he interrupted her. 

“Please don’t apologise, It’s not your fault, baby.” He pleaded, the feeling of dread filling him the longer they spoke. 

Around the table, each team stood watching in shock, tears swimming in their own eyes. 

“Two minutes.” The unsub shouted through the phone. 

“I need to tell you something.” Y/N whimpered. 

Spencer shook his head although she couldn’t see it. “No, I know where you’re going with this, stop it.”

She ignored his plead. “Spencer Reid, I’ve loved you ever since we met, when you spilled your coffee all over me. I remember it like it was yesterday. Your coffee ruined my outfit, and you were an apologising mess, so you gave me your jacket, even though it meant you’d get cold. I’ve loved you ever since that moment, Spencer.” Her voice broke at the end and she cleared her throat, determined to finish what she wanted to say. “You have to promise me you will move on, Spencer. You’ve got to let yourself be happy. You deserve it, so much.”

Spencer whined, his own voice croaky. “Don’t. Don’t you dare say goodbye to me, Y/N.”

The booming voice of the unsub came through the speaker again. “Times up.” 

“Spencer I love yo-” The end of her sentence was cut off by the unsub ending the call, the dial tone ringing out when the line went dead. 

Spencer’s hands were shaking in anger as he closed his eyes, bowing his head, hopelessly trying to keep himself calm. 

Emily was the first to speak. “Did you get it, Garcia?” 

Garcia continued to click away from a few moments before gasping. “Yes! Yes! I got it!” 

The exclamation made Spencer’s head shoot up. 

“Send us the address.” Emily ordered, as the team headed out toward the cars, with no time left to waste. 

*

The team pulled up to the location Garcia had given them, splitting off into two groups to cover the front and back entrances. 

Spencer, JJ, Luke, and Emily were all cautiously walking down one of the warehouse’s winding corridors, before turning the corner, guns in hand. They’d entered a large room, and Spencer’s eyes immediately landed on the limp figure hunched over in a chair in the centre of the room. 

Whilst the other members made sure there were no other possible threats in the room, Spencer rushed forward, the only thing he could think of was getting to her. 

Oh god please be alive, please. 

As he got closer, he took note of the wounds she has sustained. There was blood pooling from a wound on her thigh, and a few other cuts and bruises. 

Why was she so still? 

As soon as he reached her his hands cupped her cheeks, her head lolled towards him, as she struggled to hold it up. He pressed two of his fingers to her neck and had never been so thankful to feel a shallow pulse beneath her skin. 

“Y/N? Y/N, wake up, come on sweetheart.” He pleaded, swiping his thumbs over her cheeks. 

She blinked her eyes open, groaning in pain as she came to. She hissed at the pain in her thigh, her eyes focusing on the man in front of her.  “Spencer?”

“It’s me, I’m here. We’re gonna get you out of here alright, just stay with me.”

“He left a few minutes before you got here-“ She coughed mid-sentence, nodding her head weakly toward the back entrance of the room. “He went that way.”

Luke and Emily moved towards the back entrance in pursuit of the unsub, while JJ stayed back to untie Y/N’s wrists from behind her whilst speaking into her radio requesting medical attention. 

Y/N groaned again as she felt Spencer’s hands on her thigh, desperately trying it slow the bleeding. She blinked, despairingly trying to stay awake. Spencer could see her fighting and scrambled to find something to distract her with. “Hey, hey. you remember when we met? Like you said on the phone? That I completely ruined your blouse with my coffee because I’m an idiot.” He gave her a small forced smile that he hoped would reassure her as she wailed out again in pain.

He looked at JJ, who looked back at him with tears in her own eyes. “I don’t think we can wait much longer for the medics, we’re gonna have to bring her to them.” 

“Are you sure we should move her?” JJ asked. 

Spencer simply nodded. “She might die if we don’t move her now, she’s losing too much blood.” He pulled his belt from his waist, tying it tightly just above Y/N’s leg wound. She let out a shrill cry of pain, sobs escaping her lips. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I know it hurts. We’re gonna get you up and outside okay.” He cooed as he hoisted her up bridal style, holding her as gently as he could so as not to agitate her wound. With JJ beside them, he began to walk back towards the entrance. “It’ll be okay. I promise. You’ll be okay.” He pressed a kiss to Y/N’s forehead as a promise. 

Her head dropped against his shoulder and he looked down at her, his tone pleading as he spoke. “I know you’re tired baby but you gotta keep those beautiful eyes open for me, okay?” They were just stepping through the front door when she spoke.

“Spence..” She whispered, her eyes fluttering as she defeatedly attempted to stop the darkness from consuming her.

“Yeah?”

She didn’t answer. 

Everything was a blur after that. 

* 

The hospital waiting room was one of Spencer’s least favourite places, he’d decided. 

The strong smell of disinfectant along with the bright lights and white walls irritated his eyes, making his headaches even worse. He didn’t dare try to sleep though, not until he knew if she was okay. His head was in his hands and his leg bounced anxiously as he sat in the waiting room, his team surrounding him, all aching for any news. 

Finally, after what felt like hours had dragged on, a nurse entered the room calling for Y/N’s family. 

Spencer stood so quickly he nearly toppled over. He moved toward the nurse nodding his head frantically. “I’m her fiancee, is she okay?”

The nurse gave him a smile and nodded. “She’s absolutely fine, sir. The wound on her thigh bled quite heavily, but we were able to stabilise her. She has a few bruised ribs and a broken wrist, but she will make a full recovery. She’s awake if you’d like to see her?” 

He nodded again, sparing a thankful glance at his team before following the nurse down the hallway. 

He’d never felt such a sweet relief as he did when he saw her sat up in her hospital bed, a small smile on her lips as she drank from her water cup. Her smile brightened at the sight of him and she gave him a little wave, setting her cup down on the tiny side table.  

“Thank god you’re okay.” He murmured once he reached her bedside, leaning down to engulf her in a light hug, so as not to cause her any pain. 

She grinned, reaching her good hand up to hold him to her. 

When he pulled back he placed a gentle kiss on her lips, one that just further assured him that she was okay. Once they pulled away, he moved his hands to cup her cheeks. 

“Hi.” He grinned, the tears pricking at his eyes. 

“Hi.” She gave a light chuckle, immediately regretting it when a sharp pain seared through her chest, making her wince. 

He pressed his forehead to hers in a sweet gesture, closing his eyes as he basked in her warmth. He tuned his ears into the rhythm of her soft breathing, focusing on them and trying to keep his in time with hers. 

She gently brushed her hand up and down his forearm in a comforting manner. “It’s okay, Spence. I’m okay.”

“I nearly lost you.” His throat caught on the words, and she noticed the stray tears that quivered down his cheeks. 

She smiled sadly as he opened his eyes, hazel orbs meeting hers. “But you didn’t. I’m here. I’m alive, you’re alive, and it’s all gonna be just fine.”

He nodded before pulling away from her. he reached for the chair that was up against the wall of the room, pulling it so he could sit at her bedside. “I’m so sorry I let this happen to you.” He frowned, placing his hands in his lap. “I should’ve protected you. It’s my job to protect you. How can even think I’ll be a good husband, even a good father someday if I can’t keep you safe?”

She reached over and gripped his hand tightly. “You will be a phenomenal husband Spencer Reid, and an even better father. In less than five months I’ll be your wife, and I’ll be the happiest woman alive.” She ran her thumb over the back of his hand in a soothing manner and he smiled a little at her compliment. “And when we have a baby, they’ll be the luckiest kid on earth to have you as their father.”

“Yes ma’am.” He teased and she smiled, happy she’d been able to quash his worries, for the moment at least. 

His fingers hovered over the engagement ring on her finger, bringing her hand to his lips to place a kiss on it. “Why wait?” He murmured. 

“What?”

“Why should we wait five months? The nurse said they’re gonna discharge you on Thursday morning. So as soon as you’re up to it why don’t we go down to the courthouse and elope?” He queried, a smile on his lips. 

“Spence.. the weddings all planned. Five months isn’t a long time.” She countered, a small smile on her lips. 

“It is, it’s too long. I don’t want to waste another minute of my life not being married to you. I want you to be Mrs Reid and I want us to start living our lives together. We can still have the wedding, we’ll just get married twice.” He shrugged, and Y/N couldn’t believe she was really considering the idea. 

“Spence, I don’t know..” She trailed off, still needing a little convincing to get on board. 

He released her hand and stood from the chair, moving it over slightly before lowering himself down onto one knee, taking her hand again. “Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me-“

“You know you’ve already asked me this? Like a year ago.” She teased, and he chuckled shaking his head at her. 

“Hush, let me finish. Will you marry me, on Thursday?”

“Yes.” She answered with a grin, as though it was the most obvious answer in the world. 

He beamed, surging forward and wrapping her in his arms.

“You know, Garcia will kill us for getting married without her there.” She smirked as they pulled back, and Spencer nodded in agreement. 

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

“You think she won’t find out? I’ll leave you to deal with her when she gets angry, Dr. Reid.” She joked, and he laughed with her. 

“I think I can handle it, Mrs Reid.”

She grinned at the premature use of the name. “You can’t call me that until Thursday, you know.”

“Technically I can’t. But as soon as I can, I’ll never stop.” He promised, leaning down to kiss her once more. 

[wallwriterstuff]

Our Dearest Moments ||Alec Volturi x Reader||

Warnings: None, this is nice and fluffy

Words: 2964

Summary: A request for @royalvolturisblog    Forever is a long time to live, an occasionally a little reflection upon who we are and how we got here is needed to maintain our sanity, and decided some very important answers to equally as important questions.

Sometimes, life is not all we expect it to be. Sometimes, life is cruel. Sometimes, life is disappointing. For me? I can safely say it’s none of these things. My life had always been easy, the best of everything and wanting for nothing. As doting as he was, my father had spoilt me rotten and never let me work hard for anything, never given me life skills that most normal people would need to live a functioning, adult existence. Why would I need them? Money was not a problem for my family nor would it ever be, so why go to the hassle of building a life where a nine to five job sapped the life from me when I could, quite sustainably, simply enjoy my life to its fullest at my loving father’s expense? Why make your child work if there was no need? I would not settle for a subpar life as nothing in my life had ever been less than luxurious.

That was my life in a nutshell. It was flat screen TVs in a ginormous bedroom which would have fit some people’s houses inside it, four poster beds and every new games console, every makeup palette fresh off the manufacturers line and vacations to the most remote and lavish corners of the Earth. I never even had to ask for some of it, my father simply expected I would want things and provided them without request – as those of guilt soul are wont to do.

“Well? What do you say?” Alec asked, his lips pressing the gentlest of kisses against my shoulder. I hummed, leaning back against him.

“Forgive me, I was hardly listening to a word you said, my mind is…elsewhere.” I admitted. Alec squeezed my hips, arms widening around my waist to tighten his hold on me.

“You’re ignoring me now? How very rude. I thought we were passed this.” He chided, though his tone was more playful than scolding.

“Call it introspection.” I sighed. Alec chuckled.

“Introspection? Now that sounds dangerous. I happen to like you as you are, if you haven’t noticed.” He teased, pressing a kiss to my temple. I turned in his arms with a smile. He stood a little taller than I did but I didn’t mind; it always gave me the best angle of the soft curve of his jawline, the fullness of his lips that didn’t like to stray from my own for too long. It also gave me the perfect excuse to nestle my head against his collarbone, escape those all seeing crimson eyes of his. Alec had seen right through me from the very start.

“I happen to know, you inform me every day…you sap.” I smiled a little as he lifted a hand to play with my hair.

“Then why decide to be introspective? What is there to reflect on? What would you wish to change?” he questioned.

“I already have changed,” I pointed out, lifting my hand to play with his coven crest, “I actually work for a living now.” Alec actually laughed at that, pulling back to feign shock.

“You? Spoilt? I would never have guessed.” he teased. He wasn’t wrong. Even now my room was lavish, silks and fine fabrics and luxuries filling every corner, but at least this time I had worked for it. Being a part of the Volturi was a privilege in itself but it required hard work, it required proving your worth and working for the greater good of your species. It was rather odd, how I had turned my entire life philosophy around in the span of a few centuries. Maybe it was Alec, making me humbler and wiser. Perhaps I owed some of it to Vladimir and Stefan, who had taught me to fight for what I wanted rather than throw money at it. I could still remember that fateful day, though faces and names were murky now in my ‘old age’.

Samuel and Scott were two boys I had craved the presence of a lot in my human days, though I couldn’t honestly tell you why anymore. Perhaps it was the familiarity of money, or the comfort that came from knowing someone of your status and experience walked alongside you and understood your world view, but they were the closest friends I had for a long time. What was better than going on vacation with your friends at the closing of exam season? Rome had been beautiful, the sights enamouring and the food…I suppose it was okay – my tastebuds had changed since then. I could still vividly recall the kind of heat I wasn’t accustomed to back home, and the dazzling brightness of the sunlight that spotted my vision and made my ever blurry human memories seem even worse quality somehow. I also remembered laughter, and warmth, the kind of warmth that flooded your soul and felt like a good hug on the worst of days. It was strange, the things that stayed with you.

Then there was too much warmth. The process to immortalise one’s body came at the cost of burning the eternal soul till only a shell was left behind, petrified and cold. That was how Stefan put it at least in his usual, grim way. The memories of my time with them had most certainly been the most vivid, since I was very much a vampire by then and I could remember every little glance, every change in the tone of their voice. Those days….those days were full of anger. My doting father taken from me, my best friends none the wiser as to where I had gone and yet never once pleading on the news for my safe return as most others did for their loved ones. Through time and trial and error, Vladimir and Stefan had shown me that I had actually lost nothing in this life, only gained. I was stronger, swifter, better than any human version of myself could ever be.

Then came the gift.

It had been purely accidental at first. Another boy taken in by Stefan only to be turned (in what I would later find out was an attempt at raising a small army) was similarly gifted. He had the quite remarkable ability to make anything he touched smaller or larger, depending on what he wished it to look like, and unintentionally I had taken his gift to use for myself. He hadn’t stayed much longer after that, Vladimir and Stefan reluctant to let him part but allowing it – only because they knew the Volturi would send the Guard after an unruly newborn causing havoc. Why should they need him when they had me? They had been the ones to train my gift, an enhanced trait from my human life they had said – as I had taken what I wanted then I could do so now with startling efficiency. By the time Alec had arrived I had not truly gotten it under control, hence my confrontation with Jane.

It turns out the unruly newborn had been smarter than we thought, and the Masters’ had dispensed the Guard to see about this gifted vampire the Romanian’s had collected. At this point it had been months since we’d even seen the boy, years since Vladimir and Stefan had stolen me from Rome’s streets on one of their daring missions taking them close to Volturi territory. My gift had made me indispensable to them, though I like to believe that on some level they cared for me as a person, given all the gifts and birthday celebrations they had indulged in for me. There had been trips and movie nights all at my request, and affectionate gestures such as hugs and chaste kisses to my forehead that had lulled me into the false sense of security that I was where I ought to be.

“Your mind keeps wondering. I happen to be trying to ask you a very important question.” Alec was sounding a tad frustrated with me now and my eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m sorry, really, I just…do you ever have one of those days where you feel like you can’t escape thinking about the past? Thinking about the things that led you to this moment?” I sighed. It was perhaps a tad dramatic, perhaps even silly of me to be this distracted by such errant thoughts, but they wouldn’t leave me be. Alec stared at me for a long moment, and then he tucked a lock of stray hair behind my ear and swept me off of my feet to seat us on the sofa before our fireplace. Draped across his lap as I was, he had made me his sole focus and gave me his undivided attention now.

“I can’t say I do, so explain it to me. What are you thinking of in particular?” he questioned. My head tilted slightly, the briefest of smiles tugging at my lips.

“Demetri fixing up his nose the day we met.” I giggled. Alec snorted, eyes rolling.

“Vladimir did hit him rather hard.” He agreed. The commotion hadn’t much bothered me, my head buried too deep in my book to really be bothered by such trivial things, but then he had screamed. It was a blood-curdling kind of scream, the sort you heard in slasher movies when the victim is disposed of. It was the first time I had seen Jane’s gift in action, and the only time since I had stolen it. I had only meant to shove the menacing little blonde away from the man I had grown to see as a second father, only to accidentally set her own gift on her. She had crumpled like a straw doll, screaming all the while, and anyone else who came at me went down the same way.

Felix, Demetri and Jane just writhed on the stone floor while I tried and failed to keep Alec at bay, the mate bond I had unknowingly just set with him the moment we locked eyes preventing me from hurting him and vice versa. His mist had danced at the edges of my feet as he gave me more warnings than I was sure was customary of a Guard with his reputation until I managed to calm the raging inferno in my own mind, and douse the flames in theirs.

“Then you misted me.” I recalled, scowling at him slightly. Alec looked amused.

“You were getting rather violent,” he pointed out, “I’d merely suggested an even trade, their lives for you accompanying us to Volterra, and poor Demetri lost his nose a second time that day.” I could still recall the crunch of his skin beneath my knuckles as I vowed to never let them take me anywhere, and now two centuries on I couldn’t bear the thought of being anywhere other than in Alec’s lap. His hand skimmed my arm as I dropped my head on his shoulder.

“You think he would forgive me for that by now.” I said. Alec chuckled and kissed my forehead.

“Not in a million years, his ego is more fragile than his nose.” He murmured against my skin. I hadn’t been happy for a very long time after that. Dragged away from my home against my will and told it was all for a mate bond I hadn’t been ready to accept. I was cruel, very cruel, and I called Alec all sorts of filthy names. Neither him nor Jane had ever really done me wrong, yet still I rarely addressed them as anything other than ‘witch’ or ‘terrors 1 and 2’. I spent the majority of my days avoiding as many people as I could really, though I found Marcus to be quite calming and consequently ended up with the Masters’ more often than not. It was with their encouragement I ended up confronting my two-arch nemesis, their gentle prodding that had led me into Alec’s arms in the end.

“God I’m sure your mother would weep if she could see you now!”

“She did! She wept and pleaded with the villagers tying us to the stake until they caved her head in with stones. How about yours?”

I cringed slightly, the memory as fresh as if it had been just yesterday. Jane had looked ready to roast me that day, while Alec had cut me down to size with his words. Their mother’s fate, their deaths, they were nothing such of tragic incidents that should never have occurred, not to these two. It had triggered a memory I had thought had faded as most other human memories had, though I could see no eyes in the soft, familiar features of my mother’s face given I couldn’t remember the colour of them. She had been reaching for me in my dreams for years, that single bloodied hand protruding from the wreckage of a car only I had escaped from haunted me to this day. How far I had strayed from the woman she would have wanted me to become.

“How could you forgive me?” I asked finally. Alec raised his eyebrows.

“For punching Demetri in the face? Quite easily. I found it entertaining.” He answered.

“Not for that! For…everything else. I was nothing short of difficult and downright cruel to you.” I reminded him. Alec tilted his head, quietly making a noise of understanding. It wasn’t so long ago Alec had asked me to marry him, at least, five years didn’t seem all that long for a vampire. He shifted till I was facing him, straddling his lap and chest to chest with our noses almost touching.

“I forgave you because I loved you, even then. I didn’t see cruelty, I saw hurt that never truly healed. Our scarred hearts were made for one another, even if you weren’t ready to accept it.” He murmured.

“But all those awful names I called you…” I sighed, closing my eyes as shame ate away at my insides. Alec chuckled.

“Some were quite inventive, I’ll give you that,” he said wryly, “Y/N…you replaced every bad memory with a good one. The time you gifted me that bookmark because you knew how much I loved to read? The memory of our first walk in the Garden’s together where you taught me all about gardening and when the best time of year to plant certain flowers was. Our first kiss, the first time you held my hand even. You made the effort to make it right.” He kissed my nose sweetly before capturing my lips with his. His every kiss had been intoxicating since our very first one, the sweet taste of his mouth on mine addictive, the way his lips moved a hypnotic dance I could forever get lost in performing with him over and over. When we parted I pressed my forehead to his.

“I do love you, you know.” I swore. Alec flashed me a smile.

“I know, you impossible little brat,” he teased, tugging my hair lightly, “Now will you please listen to what I’ve been so desperately trying to ask you all day now?” My eyes rolled, but I nodded.

“Make it worth my while, baby.” I teased.

“Don’t, you know I hate when you call me that,” he warned, though his lips twitched upwards, “Y/N, my impossibly stubborn, talented little beauty. I’ve never been in doubt you love me, and I hope I’ve never given you reason to doubt that I love you just as much. You challenge and enrage me daily, yet you are also my greatest comfort and strength when I need you to be. So stop being so bloody awkward and marry me already!”

“That wasn’t a question.” I pointed out, eyebrows raising. Alec groaned exasperatedly, his head falling back against the back of the sofa. My head tilted slightly.

If my day of reflection had done anything, it was show me how far I had come. I was no longer the same spoiled little girl I had once been. I had become a protector of our kind, and my journey with Alec had humbled my tongue. I was perhaps wiser, far kinder. I had not felt worthy of the mantle before but seeing him beneath me now, my love so ardent in his affection and persistent in his showing of it, I realised I had no need to be afraid – I had proven my worth to Alec tenfold. Gripping his chin, I forced him to look at me. He looked rather frustrated.

“This is the modern era Alec,” I scolded, “I will never say yes to your proposal.”

“But-“

“Because you are going to be saying yes to mine. Marry me, Alec.” I didn’t ask, more stated it. I knew he wouldn’t say no. With another exasperated groan he shook his head.

“You do make me work for it don’t you? So long as I slip a ring on your finger I really don’t care who asks who. Fine, I’ll marry you.” He leaned in but I pressed a single finger to his lips, preventing him from kissing me. His eyebrows arched into his hairline, almost as if to say ‘what now?’.

“It’ll be a Winter wedding.” I decided. A brief smile flashed his lips upwards.

“Spring.” He retorted.

“And the bridesmaids will wear emerald green.” I continued.

“Peach.” He countered, his smile growing as I pulled my finger from his lips.

“Oh and I want diamonds Alec, they’re a girls best friend.” I grinned, our noses brushing now.

“You’ll get a cereal box ring and be happy with it for all the waiting you’ve made me do.” He huffed. I didn’t get to protest, not when he smothered my mouth with his own, both of us laughing as we let the past be and looked forward to our future instead.

[tra-sh]

Just a Touch (Din Djarin)

Request from Anon: “First i just wanna say I really love your writing! If you’re still taking requests, Could I ask for one with the mandalorian? Like touch-starved din maybe smut? Thanks!" 

We simp for Din Djarin in this household. I might make two parts for this if that's alright! 

Part 2 Here! 

Being in a relationship with a Mandalorian was unheard of, to say the least. Their culture was famous for restraining from unnecessary touches and hiding their bodies from the world's prying eyes. Knowing this, it never ceased to amaze you how much you truly loved the Mandalorian that sat before you. And by some Maker's miracle, he loved you too. 

You and Din had never established your relationship with words. He was a man of very few, and you were in no rush to stake your claim on him. You knew that this was unfamiliar territory for him and the last thing you wanted to do was rush him into anything. You took your time and never pushed his boundaries, much to the man's pleasant surprise. Din knew you to be exceedingly patient. You never touched him unless he initiated it (which was only in times of need) and when you prepared meals you would smile and leave his plate in the cockpit as if it were completely normal that he ate in solitude. 

Din was thankful for you, but he couldn't help the guilt that bled into his thoughts. Surely, he was holding you back from something better? You deserved only the best and he was convinced this was something he couldn't give you. 

You, on the other hand, were more than content with this life. You didn't need Din to offer you the world or recite pretty words to make you feel loved. You saw it in his actions. You knew he loved you when he took a blaster shot to the shoulder in your stead, and when he told you his true name late one night while flying. You knew more than anyone that this was his love language and you were happy just knowing that he returned your feelings. 

Din, however, was not. 

His breaking point had come one day on Lah’mu, where he'd taken you and the child to relax for a bit. He'd told you it was to secure an idea of potential hiding places should trouble strike again, but you knew him better by now. The three of you were exploring the farming planet and taking in the lush flora and wildlife. Din would never say it out loud, but he adored the look of awe that settled on your features. The way you held the child to your chest and bounced him absentmindedly as you walked-- Din couldn't help but entertain the thought that the three of you looked like a family. Something he never knew he wanted until you came into his life. You smile down at the child while you walk, feigning interest as he prattles off incoherent words to you. You 'oohed' and 'ahhed' at his babbling (which he greatly appreciated because usually, NO ONE listened to him) and occasionally respond with "Is that so?" or "And then what?" 

Din allows the barest hint of a smile to ghost over his lips as he watches you interact with the kid. His eyes trail to the ground and he notices a patch of mud left over from the previous night's rainfall. Before the Mandalorian could utter a warning, your boot catches in the slippery clay. You squeal as you fall backward and clutch the child to your chest, hoping to cushion his fall. You're pleasantly surprised, however, when a pair of leather gloves catch your arms and steady you against a broad chest. You turn to say your thanks when you're unceremoniously shoved away. You stumble a bit but manage to catch yourself before you and the giggling baby in your arms faceplant into the mud. You turn to look at Din, and he freezes. He hadn't meant to-- gods knew he'd wanted to hold you like that for millennia-- but he'd pushed you away on instinct. He tries to drum up an excuse or mutter a 'sorry', but the hurt look on your face makes his apology die on his tongue. He'd never seen you look so distressed.

You quickly try to save face and offer Din a small smile. You hadn't meant to let that slip, but something about his quickness to get you off of him didn't sit right in your stomach. But you knew that at the end of the day it wasn't because of you. This was how he was raised; this was who he was. And you'd accepted that a long time ago. "Sorry, Din," you apologize quietly. "I should have been looking where I was going." And with that, you turned away and continued your walk. 

Din watched you leave with a pained expression under his beskar helmet. He hated being the cause of your discomfort. He hated knowing that he was the cause of the pain that flashed across your face. And he hated himself for making you think you had to hide your feelings. He knew something had to change. 

***

The first time Din had sought out your touch, it was so small that you'd thought it was an accident. 

You had just put the child to bed and turned around to find Din standing there beside the ladder. "Oh, Hey," you greet, keeping your voice low as to not wake the sleeping kid. You see his helmet tilt slightly, nodding in response. You glance over your shoulder to the child and smile at his peaceful state. One of his ears twitches as if sensing your stare. You turn back to Din, who remains perfectly still. 

"I'm going to make dinner now. I'll leave yours on your chair?" Another wordless nod.

You hum quietly as you move to side-step around the Mandalorian and make your way up the ladder. Just as you go to leave, you feel the slightest brush of leather against your hand. Your head snaps up and you look at Din in shock. He's not facing you; his gaze is trained on the child. You open your mouth to ask him if he'd meant to do that, but you quickly close it. You didn't want to scare him off. You stand rigid at the base of the ladder, afraid to move. You felt as though you were coaxing a turtle from its shell; patiently waiting to see the next move. The leather-clad fingers timidly brushed over your palm as if testing out the new territory. Your chest swells with anticipation and you watch with bated breath as he almost-- almost-- holds your hand. But as quickly as the touch began, it ends when Din walks over to the child's pram. Your heart is pounding and you can't help the contagious smile that threatens to overtake your features. You turn back to the ladder and make your way up, silently reveling in the knowledge of the touch. 

***

The next few times Din touched you, they weren't so fleeting.

 He'd brushed his hand to yours when you passed each other in the hallway, his fingers lingering to brush the back of your hand ever so gently before he would eventually turn away and stalk off. You'd grown accustomed to these little moments and they were quickly becoming treasured memories in your mind. It felt silly being so elated with these barely-there grazes, but you knew how much they meant to Din. He was pushing his own boundaries and stepping out of his comfort zone for you.

After he'd let down his walls with the first touch, he slowly began to crave more. Although your hands only came in contact with his gloves, he could just imagine how your skin would feel against his. How soft it would feel when your thumb rubbed small circles on the back of his hand. He was delving into dangerous territory by letting you touch him now; he almost felt guilty for enjoying it as much as he did. Every graze of your fingers left a burning trail in it’s wake-- and Din desperately wanted to feel more. It was almost drugging, the feel of your touch. He had been on his own for so long, with only the other Mandalorians and the occasional bounty as his human-- or alien-- interaction. He'd never craved contact with anyone the way he did with you. Perhaps it was because of this that he began to allow you to venture further. You'd lace your fingers together with his, silently holding his hand as you played with the child. At first, he wasn't sure how to react. His muscles were tense against yours and he seemed to freeze where he stood. But after some time, you felt him relax in your hold. He'd even begun to hold your hand back, which made your heart flutter in your chest. 

***

Din was positive you were doing this on purpose. Because if you weren't, you surely were the worst kind of tease. 

He'd left the Razor Crest to buy some food and medical supplies to stock up for the next bounty hunt to Tatooine. But on his way to the market, he'd run into some trouble with a group of Storm Troopers. He'd managed to escape with only a few scratches here and there, but the minute he told you what happened you'd gone into a frenzy. You had insisted on checking him for potential wounds and wouldn't take no for an answer. 

That was how Din ended up with you hovering over him as he sat on the metal bench in the downstairs of the Crest, across from the bed. He had no idea, however, how the two of you got in this particular position. 

Your knee sat on the metal bench between his thighs as you do your best to check for wounds without removing any beskar. Your hands run along the curves and dips of his body and you occasionally glance up to see if he would wince or give off a sign of injury. So far he hadn't so much as moved. Din wondered momentarily if he was dreaming. He'd taken a blaster shot to the helmet that rattled him a bit-- perhaps he was really unconscious on the side of the road somewhere. How else would he explain this? The most surprising part for the Mandalorian was the fact that he allowed you to touch him like this. Your hands run over the back of his neck, brushing over a sliver of exposed skin between his shirt and the helmet. Din's breath catches in his throat and his hands tighten their grip on the edge of the bench. You're quick to notice this and frown. "Are you hurt there?" You ask carefully. Din isn't sure how to respond. No, I'm not injured. I'm just aroused by you barely touching my neck. He definitely couldn't say that. He could just push your hands off of him and leave the room. He should stop you. He really should.

He also really doesn't want to. 

Din realizes you're still waiting for a response and tries to find his voice. "...Yes." 

He was screwed. 

You let out a soft gasp and begin to run your fingers over the 'afflicted' area, searching for any physical wound to fix. Din has to bite back a groan as your nails lightly ghost over his neck. "I have bacta spray here somewhere," you murmur under your breath, turning to reach one hand into the bag of medical supplies that sits on the far end of the bench. His neck feels cold at the sudden loss of your hand and he fights the urge to lean into your remaining touch. The way you caressed him tenderly, lovingly, it made something in his chest ache. He didn't want you to stop. 

You let out a victorious 'aha' as you pull a small silver container from the contents of the bag. You turn back to the Mandalorian and offer him an apologetic look. "I need you to bend your head for me," you instruct. He goes limp in your grasp, allowing you to pull him gently forward and bend his head close to your chest. You lean forward to peer over his shoulder and spray the bacta on his exposed skin. Din's mind goes blank as your chest fills his vision. He'd never been this close to another person before and certainly not in an intimate manner. "Does that feel better?" Your voice breaks him from his dizzying trance and you pull back to gaze down into his visor. 

"Yes," Din rasps out. His voice betrays him as the word leaves his lips in a breathless groan. If you notice the sudden change, you don't mention it. You smile, seemingly pleased with your work. "I know this is probably uncomfortable for you," you say quietly. "I'm almost done, I promise." 

Please, Din thinks, don't stop. It's almost embarrassing how much this is turning him on. He's one fleeting touch away from losing control and bucking his hips against your knee just to feel relief. 

Your hands ghost over his helmet, noting the blackened outline of a blaster shot behind his left ear. "You were shot?" It's not as much of a question as it is an accusation. He told you he was fine and had no injuries. He didn't tell you he got shot. Din can't bring himself to speak after the earlier incident and instead remains quiet. He knew you wouldn't even dream of removing his helmet-- you held too much respect for the Mandalorians. He didn't stop you as your hands traveled over the beskar surface, pausing to cup his face in your hands. You stay like that for a moment and absentmindedly brush your thumbs over the cool surface. A tiny smile plays at the corners of your mouth as you lose your train of thought, content to stay there for the remainder of the day staring lovingly into the dark visor. 

 "Well, thank you for being such a good patient," you joke lightly, breaking the silence. You feel a small burst of confidence and lean forward to press a gentle kiss where his forehead should be. You pull back and bite your lip, hoping that you didn’t go too far. 

Din is frozen in place. All he can do is pray to the Maker that you wouldn't look down. It was just a kiss. One small kiss to his helmet. His body sits rigidly on the cool metal as he tries to push all of the indecent thoughts from his head. Thoughts of you, naked and writhing beneath him. Thoughts of kissing you deeply and trailing hot kisses down the soft skin of your abdomen. 

You begin to squirm uncomfortably when Din doesn't move at all. Was that too much? Maker, you needed to apologize before he never touched you again. You'd just barely gotten him to hold your hand-- of course a kiss would be too bold. 

You push off the bench and offer him an apologetic gaze, grabbing the bag of supplies. "I'm sorry," you murmur quietly. "I shouldn't have pushed it." You excuse yourself from the room and hurry down the narrow hall to put the bag back in its destined locker. 

Din watches you leave in frustration, letting out a strangled groan as his head falls back to hit the wall with a soft 'thud'. He needed to do something about this-- fast. 

[jalapeno-princess]

Hey Santa

Mark Tuan X Reader

Word Count: 2.8K

Genre: Fluffity fluff 

Summary: Christmas has always been your favorite holiday, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be all that happy this year since your favorite person in the entire world is currently thousands of miles away on a business trip. However, Santa always seems to have a few tricks up his sleeve and this Christmas turns out not that bad after all.

The lights and festive decorations surrounded all throughout town were a constant reminder that Christmas was just around the corner—five days to be exact. As excited as you wish you could have been right now, especially because winter just so happened to be your favorite season and Christmas was your favorite holiday for many different reasons, you couldn’t find it in yourself to really get in to the Christmas spirit this year. 

If anything, you felt like the grinch. Witnessing how happy everyone you were surrounded by—your family, friends and colleagues did make you feel the least bit jealous. 

Just last year, you were the one trying to get everyone in to the Christmas spirit. You set up your Christmas tree in your apartment a week before Thanksgiving. You stayed up with your boyfriend Mark making dozens of different cookies to pass out, the two of you decorated the tree to the best of your abilities—or at least tried your best to. 

You’d cuddle up on the couch together watching a bunch of your favorite Christmas movies and hummed along to some of the best Christmas songs; new and old while washing dishes or doing the laundry. Last year had to be the best year, especially because it was your first Christmas together as a couple. 

He brought you to see the lights; something you’ve been indirectly hinting towards wanting to do, you brought him ice skating—one of the only activities you did better at than him, he invited you to go snowboarding and sledding with his family up in the mountains and on Christmas Day, he gave you the prettiest heart shaped necklace and told you he loved you for the first time after five months of dating. 

Maybe it was because you had the time of your life the previous year with the man you called your soulmate and now you were miserable and lonely. Mark was currently away on a business trip in Japan, trying to secure one of the biggest business deals that could bring his company a lot of success. 

You had a hard time understanding why his boss felt the need to send him just days away from Christmas but you didn’t want him knowing that it bothered you. Your boyfriend was one of the youngest department supervisors at one of the top technology companies in the country. 

Not only was he extremely intelligent; graduating with his master’s degree in business at only 24-years-old, but he was very passionate in his field of work and he did anything and everything in his power to help bring the company as much publicity and prosperity as he possibly could. You admired his work ethic and how determined he was to excel in his career, but you would have preferred for him to be with you right now. 

It was currently snowing in California and there was nothing more that you wanted than to be cuddled up in bed with Mark—a tangle of limbs underneath your blankets watching the snow fall against your window while drinking some hot chocolate and stealing sweet kisses from one another. 

If Mark were to come home and saw how dull and empty the current state your apartment had been because you had no desire to do anything merry—he would have been upset. He loved Christmas as much if not just a little bit more than you did—so you were sure he wouldn’t have been too happy if he found out you were having such a horrible time. 

On the day that he found out about his trip, he was visibly upset. He wasn’t as verbal as he was physical with you—clinging on to you like a sloth. Following you all around the apartment like a lost puppy and holding you in his embrace as you cooked dinner for the two of you. It was then—mid bite of his shrimp pasta—Mark admitted that he tried to prolong telling you about the trip because he knew you would be devastated. 

Honestly, that had to be the understatement of the year. You were heartbroken beyond belief. This year, your grandparents were flying down for your younger cousin’s graduation and it’s been at least two years since you’ve seen them, so you expected this holiday season to be one for the books. However, you didn’t take his absence so lightly. Your boyfriend has left on business trips multiple times for weeks and even months on end. 

Sure, you hated any moment spent without him by your side and talking to him through your phone and computer screens weren’t the same as having him there with you in person—but you did your best to be a supportive girlfriend by not showing an ounce of distress. It’s just that—Christmas came around once a year; you suffered through work and school; crying while staying up and studying for exams—being scolded at work for things that were out of your control. You waited all year for this one day and now it was ruined.

You hated the fact that you were acting so childish, there was nothing he could do. It wasn’t as if he could tell his higher ups that he didn’t want to go—no matter how much he didn’t want to. Mark even nonchalantly tried to reschedule the trip, but the director already purchased his ticket. 

He made it a habit to call you right before a meeting, before he went to bed, right before you went to sleep and when you woke up in the morning. Hearing that Japan was decked out in Christmas decorations and how even their food was festive made you wish you could have taken off from work to be there with him. You didn’t care where you ended up spending the holidays, all you cared about was who you spent it with and the only person whose presence you craved the most was more than 5,000 miles away and 19 hours ahead of you. 

Working at your family’s Christmas annual “Santa’s Workshop” that they held every year since before you were even born never failed to bring you so much joy. When your cousin was diagnosed with Leukemia when the two of you were only 6-years-old, your aunty decided after seeing all the children in the hospital not able to celebrate Christmas as they probably would have wanted to—that she would give them and their families a chance to have their own little private festival in one of the hospital ballrooms so that the kids could get a visit from Santa Claus along with toys that were donated from families all across of California. You loved being able to do something like this; you wanted to give back to the less fortunate and seeing the bright and hopeful smiles on all the adorable little children’s faces always seemed to make your heart flutter. 

How could you be so selfish—letting the fact that Mark wasn’t there with you get in the way of your happiness when there were little ones who were suffering through some really tough battles. But you were only human; you hardly ever got to see Mark as it was—and that said a lot considering that you lived together. His job took up most of his time and you did your best to hide the fact that being his second priority bothered you. 

Trying to take on more hours at work in order to take your mind off of the distance in your relationship wasn’t enough to cover up how much you were falling apart at the seams. Mark Tuan was the love of your life—your life revolved around him. He was genuinely the biggest blessing that you couldn’t even fathom in to words how grateful you were to be the lucky one who got to love him and was vehemently loved by him. You missed him even when you were with him. You felt pathetic—allowing someone to have this much power over you, but that just showed how much you loved him with your entire being.

As much as you would rather have been locked up in your room watching home alone reruns while stuffing your face—being dressed up as an elf and assisting the children as they made their way one by one on to Santa’s lap; telling him what they each wanted for Christmas wasn’t all too bad. It was actually the best thing to happen so far since December came around. You found yourself smiling every time one of the patients beamed up at Santa Claus. 

Honestly, nine hours went by faster than you would have expected it to. Observing the way the kids would grin in delight after receiving a present tugged on your heartstrings and opened your eyes to the idea that Christmas was so much more than asking for and getting all the items on your Christmas list. It was seeing these hopeful little faces gleam even for only a few moments. You might have missed your boyfriend dearly, but you knew he would make up for lost time once he finally arrived back like he always did. 

After the last child got a gift from Santa and made their way back to their hospital room, you and your cousins began to close up shop—turning off the lights on the tree, folding up some of the poster boards and just preparing everything for the next day when you heard someone gently whisper your name. 

You smiled softly at the older man; he was a friend of your uncle’s who has been dressing up as Santa for longer than you could remember. You made your way towards him and laughed softly to yourself when he patted his lap. 

“Do my old eyes deceive me or is your smile not as sincere as it usually is? what’s wrong y/n? you’re always so bright and cheery this time of year but these days, your excitement seems so forced.” 

Releasing a sad sigh, you were well aware you couldn’t lie to him; he already knew there was something bothering you so there was no point in hiding what was currently clouding your entire thought process. 

“You’re going to think it’s silly—“

“Your feelings aren’t silly y/n. You’re only human, it’s okay to be sad sometimes, even during the most wonderful time of the year. I’m sure you haven’t told anyone else what’s wrong, so why don’t you tell Santa? Maybe I have a gift for you that might uplift your spirits.” 

You were too busy staring at the ground in disappointment to notice the glint in his eye—but you didn’t want to keep him waiting. It was late, you were sure he wanted to go home just as much as you did, so you poured your heart out to the older man. 

“My boyfriend—he’s currently on a business trip in Japan and I just—I don’t know, I miss him dearly and I just wish he could have been home for the holidays and now I feel like a grumpy little scrooge.” 

He laughed lightly while gently squeezing your arms as a way to comfort you. Admitting it out loud sounded so pathetic but it also made you feel lighter in a way. Telling someone else of your problems felt good; it took a huge weight off of your shoulders, but it didn’t feel the void Mark always seemed to cause whenever he had to leave. 

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with moping around because of that. The holiday season is the time you want to spend with your loved ones the most. Your parents told me about him a few months ago—Mark is it? He sounds like a really great guy and your mom seems impatient waiting for the two of you to get married. I’m sorry about the unfortunate situation y/n, but just think about it this way, you’ll have many, many more Christmases to spend with him. Don’t let this one circumstance ruin the way you look at this glorious wintertime. If you’ll excuse me, I have to use the bathroom, I’ll be right back.” 

He was right; it has only been almost two years since you and Mark began dating, but you knew he was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. You sat there for a few minutes, looking at your phone to see if Mark had gotten in contact with you and you let out a sad sigh when you realized there was nothing. He did say he had meetings to attend the entire day—so you understood that he was probably busy, but it didn’t make you feel all that much better. 

Finally, you could see in your peripheral vision that the older man arrived back and motioned for you to get up before sitting back down and had you take your spot back on his knee. 

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before—I love that man with every single breath that I take. Waking up next to him—feeling his heartbeat against mine, I can’t explain how exuberant he makes me feel. Every time we’re together, it’s like we’re in our own little worlds. He’s been so busy these days and sometimes I feel as though I’m a burden to him. I’m sure he’s probably exhausted after coming home from work, but he never fails to do whatever it is that I want to do together just to make me smile. I want nothing more to marry him one day—maybe I should fly up to Japan and surprise him—“

“I don’t think that would be the best idea right now.” 

You frowned at his words; wasn’t he encouraging you earlier to try and make the best of the next two weeks until the new year? What made him change his mind in the few minutes while he was away? Before you could ask him about what he could have meant, he wrapped his hands around your waist and placed his chin on top of your shoulder. 

You were surprised at the sudden movement—you didn’t want to seem rude and push him away because you were now feeling uncomfortable, but you didn’t know how to feel. However, before you could say or do anything, he brought his mouth up to your ear and whispered softly before placing a gentle kiss right below your ear. 

“If you go to Japan, then we won’t be able to celebrate the holidays together babe.” 

Your eyes widened in shock—how could you not differentiate between the two voices? Maybe you were too deep in your self pity to notice—but you flung your arms around his neck and smashed your lips against his. Your boyfriend smiled against your mouth and depend the kiss as his hands made their way down to your lower back. 

“Mark you ass! I was about ready to sock a family friend in the face, why didn’t you tell me you were coming home? You knew how miserable I’ve been—“ 

He stole a wet kiss from the corner of your mouth; his way to silence you before playfully squeezing one of your thighs. 

“I’ve been just as miserable baby. I’m sorry, I was actually debating on whether or not I should tell you—but your mom told me that it would be a lot more fun if I surprised you. You’re well aware that I can’t keep secrets for shit. I almost blurted it out last night when you told me how rough your day was. None of that matters though—I’m here now and I have a lot planned for us. I’ve missed you so fucking much baby. Don’t get me wrong, Japan is such an amazing country—but fuck, I feel so numb when you’re not by my side. By the way, I feel the same exact way about you y/n. You’re my entire world. I love you so—so very much. I don’t think there’s enough words in the English dictionary to form a sentence perfect enough to describe what it is that I feel for you. I’m sorry—so fucking sorry that you think my job means more to me than you do. Nothing in this entire world means even half as much to me as you do. I’m at fault for making it seem that way, but I plan on spending the rest of my life showing you and telling you otherwise. Now, there are a few mistletoes that have our names on it—why don’t you let me make up for not being around as much as I should. This Christmas will be a lot more astounding, that’s a promise.” 

He reconnected your lips together, not being able to stay away from your lips for too long. You really did miss this. Being held by him, feeling him lick on your bottom lip—nonverbally asking for entrance, having him run his fingers through your hair. Mark was your home—you always felt so safe in his arms and God, you’ve been homesick for quite some time. After a couple minutes of fervently making out, you grabbed at his hand and pulled him up with you—laughing at how the santa suit he was currently wearing practically swallowed his silhouette. 

“You’re such an adorable Santa Clause.” 

He playfully rolled his eyes at your comment as you led him to the back in order to get your things. Mark made sure you weren’t paying attention as he tapped on his leg to make sure the velvet box was still safely in his pocket. If you thought his early arrival home was already quite the surprise, he couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when he were to pop the question he’s been wanting to ask you from the beginning of your relationship. This Christmas was definitely going to be one for the books, and he couldn’t wait.

[fear-frost]

Perfect Moment by @fear-frost 

Written as a gift for @idleafterthoughts as part of the Sterek Secret Santa gift exchange!

Rated T

“Can I get a sitrep?” Stiles nearly yelled against the phone, his face pressed as close to Derek’s back as possible while Derek’s Harley tore down a back-country road just south of the Preserve.

“Oh my god, Batman! We’re not FBI agents.” Erica shouted back, her voice tinny against the rushing wind.  

A chunk of Stiles’ hair lashed his eye and he pulled the phone away from his ear to brush it back, keeping one arm securely wrapped around Derek’s middle. His hair was the longest it had ever been, falling to just below his ears, and while Derek had said he wasn’t sure how he felt about it, Stiles knew he liked it if the way the wolf constantly had his hands in it was any indication.

“Stiles!” Erica’s voice came through the speaker and he shoved the phone back to his ear and hunkered down behind Derek again.

“I’m here. Do you even know what kind of creature it is?”

The rustling on the other end intensified then Allison’s voice filtered into his ear. “I can’t believe you guys really called them! Stiles, it’s just a troll. We’ve got this. You guys go enjoy your date.”

Derek started shaking his head before Allison even finished her sentence.

“Nope,” Stiles sighed. “We’re already almost there so we’ll see you in a few minutes. I mean, who doesn’t want to go troll wrangling on their anniversary?”

***

Allison had been right. It was a troll, but not just any troll.

“I’m going to have to check the wards around the enclosure,” Stiles said, pointing to a spot on the map they’d laid over the trunk of Allison’s car where she’d parked to the side of one of the Preserve’s many access roads. “If she’s the only one that’s gotten out then maybe I can get the wards back in place before any of the others realize they’re down.”

           Derek was standing on Stiles’ other side, arms crossed, and looked up sharply when a howl filtered through the trees. Erica, Boyd, Isaac, and Scott were already out herding the wayward troll back to safety.

Over the years, the nemeton had never stopped being a beacon for supernatural creatures. Some of the human ones, like Parrish, had integrated themselves into the regular society of Beacon Hills. All the rest had either been driven out by the pack when they proved a threat or if the creatures were like their errant troll, the pack led them to the enclosure Stiles and Deaton had created with wards deep in the Preserve. It allowed the creatures to live in peace near the energy from the nemeton they craved.  

               “They’ve got her between them,” Derek said, eyes narrowed and head cocked, listening to things he and Allison had no chance of hearing with their human ears. “But she’s trying to move towards town. I need to go help them.”

           “Go. Ally and I will head to the enclosure and fix the wards.”

           “Call your Dad. Have him and Parrish on standby just in case. Ally, call Chris too?”

“I’m on it,” Allison said, turning away and already pressing her phone to her ear.

Stiles’ eyes caught Derek’s gaze as the wolf shifted closer, cool September breeze ruffling his dark hair and trying to lift the map off the car.

           “You’ll be careful.” Derek’s voice was low. Meant only for him.

           “You know the rest of the pack might not be, but I actually am an FBI agent.” Stiles grinned, moving until he was nearly pressed to Derek and it took no effort to brush his lips against the alpha’s.

           “I know.” There was a heaviness to Derek’s voice that Stiles wasn’t sure how to interpret. It wasn’t like this was the first time they’d had to ditch their plans for some emergency. Supernatural or otherwise.

           “I’m sorry our dinner got interrupted.” He said, gently, ducking his head to get Derek to meet his gaze.

           “Me too.” Derek looked up, kissed him, and stepped back. “I’ll see you soon.” He turned, eyes already burning red and headed in the direction of the pack.

           “Hey!” Stiles yelled before Derek broke the tree line. The wolf stopped and turned crimson eyes back to him. “I love you.”

           “I love you too.”

           Stiles stood watching the place Derek had disappeared until Allison touched his shoulder.

           “All set?” He asked, pulling out his own phone to fire off a quick text to his dad and Parrish, asking them to keep an eye on the main roads heading out of the Preserve. After he’d completed his training, Stiles had been surprised when he was asked to be the bureau’s supernatural liaison to the Beacon County Sheriff’s Department, but wasted no time saying yes.

           He’d only been settled in for a few months when Derek had kissed him for the first time after a particularly difficult battle with a witch. That was two years ago, and they hadn’t looked back since.

           Allison moved at his side, strapping on a tactical vest and pulling back her hair before retrieving her tranquilizer rifle from the trunk. He stepped up beside her and pulled on his own gear, a tact vest and tranq handgun in a shoulder holster. “Let’s take the bike. It’ll be faster.”

           Allison just nodded, slung the rifle’s strap over her shoulder and climbed on behind him when he cranked the motorcycle’s engine over.

***

Chaos. Absolute and utter chaos. Erica and Boyd were pulling dishes out to set the table. Isaac was rooting around in the fridge for beverages. Stiles was sitting on the counter, feet swinging until his heels clicked against the cabinet door. Derek wondered how he managed to endure all the noise, and how in the world he’d ever lived without it.

“I’m telling you,” Erica laughed, reaching into one of the kitchen cabinets to get glasses for soda. “It’s a good thing none of you ever signed up to be cowboys because you don’t know the first thing about herding.”

“We’re wolves!” Isaac countered. “It’s a natural instinct and we totally had it under control.”

Boyd snorted. “You and Scott would have had that poor troll all the way to Sacramento if Erica and I hadn’t shown up.”

“Hey!” Scott pouted from the front window where he was watching for the pizza delivery. “We weren’t doing that bad...were we?” Allison grinned and walked over to press a kiss to his cheek.

However they’d managed it, the troll was once again safely within the confines of the wards Stiles had repaired. Derek had hoped when all was said and done that the pack would take the hint and let he and Stiles get back to their anniversary evening.

No such luck.

“All those poor hikers denied their bigfoot sightings.” Isaac shook his head. “Just because you didn’t want to take the scenic route.”

“Hey, what have I told you before?” Stiles piped up, sounding like the amazing emissary he’d become. “We don’t contribute to the bigfoot rumors.” His lips quirked up on the sides and his eyes locked onto to Derek’s as if to say, “Can you believe these kids?”  

Stiles had grown up so much, endured and persevered through so many trials, and yet Derek was still blown away by the simple joy sparkling in the warm brown eyes that he got lost in every chance he could.

He knew in that instant that he didn’t want to wait. Not another day. Not another minute. He’d had special plans for their date that night, but like so many dates before, their lives had pulled them away from the perfect moment he had hoped to create.

It was like a lightning strike to the spine, that realization. This was their life. This was their family. Despite all the pain and loss they’d both experienced, here they were, in the kitchen of the rebuilt version of his family home, surrounded by their pack, their family. Laughter. Love. No moment could more perfect than that.

“Marry me.” Derek said, loud enough only for Stiles to hear him over the clatter.

Everything stopped. Nobody moved. Nobody breathed.

Stiles hopped off the counter still holding Derek’s gaze and took the few steps between them until he was standing close enough to Derek for their chests to brush. Lifting his arms, he grasped the back of Derek’s neck, tilting his head until their foreheads rested together.

“Is that what had you so on edge earlier?” Stiles whispered.

Derek nodded, and Stiles smiled.

“Silly wolf. Of course I’ll marry you.”

Derek pressed forward, capturing Stiles’ lips with his own and the pack erupted in joyous howls. The kiss was awkward because they were both smiling too much, but Derek wouldn’t have changed any of it.

“Oh my god, my ears!” Stiles laughed, pulling back but not leaving Derek’s arms. “Take the howling outside you bunch of ingrates.”

The pack, of course, did the exact opposite and converged on the two of them with congratulations and hugs and back slaps. Through the din, Derek caught Stiles’ eyes, a small smile on his face. This was their life: escapee trolls, rambunctious pack, protecting, and loving each other.

Stiles winked and grinned back.

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @idleafterthoughts!

Perfect Moment

“Can I get a sitrep?” Stiles nearly yelled against the phone, his face pressed as close to Derek’s back as possible while Derek’s Harley tore down a back-country road just south of the Preserve.

“Oh my god, Batman! We’re not FBI agents.” Erica shouted back, her voice tinny against the rushing wind.  

    A chunk of Stiles’ hair lashed his eye and he pulled the phone away from his ear to brush it back, keeping one arm securely wrapped around Derek’s middle. His hair was the longest it had ever been, falling to just below his ears, and while Derek had said he wasn’t sure how he felt about it, Stiles knew he liked it if the way the wolf constantly had his hands in it was any indication.

    “Stiles!” Erica’s voice came through the speaker and he shoved the phone back to his ear and hunkered down behind Derek again.

    “I’m here. Do you even know what kind of creature it is?”

    The rustling on the other end intensified then Allison’s voice filtered into his ear. “I can’t believe you guys really called them! Stiles, it’s just a troll. We’ve got this. You guys go enjoy your date.”

    Derek started shaking his head before Allison even finished her sentence.

    “Nope,” Stiles sighed. “We’re already almost there so we’ll see you in a few minutes. I mean, who doesn’t want to go troll wrangling on their anniversary?”

***

Allison had been right. It was a troll, but not just any troll.

“I’m going to have to check the wards around the enclosure,” Stiles said, pointing to a spot on the map they’d laid over the trunk of Allison’s car where she’d parked to the side of one of the Preserve’s many access roads. “If she’s the only one that’s gotten out then maybe I can get the wards back in place before any of the others realize they’re down.”

           Derek was standing on Stiles’ other side, arms crossed, and looked up sharply when a howl filtered through the trees. Erica, Boyd, Isaac, and Scott were already out herding the wayward troll back to safety.

Over the years, the nemeton had never stopped being a beacon for supernatural creatures. Some of the human ones, like Parrish, had integrated themselves into the regular society of Beacon Hills. All the rest had either been driven out by the pack when they proved a threat or if the creatures were like their errant troll, the pack led them to the enclosure Stiles and Deaton had created with wards deep in the Preserve. It allowed the creatures to live in peace near the energy from the nemeton they craved.  

               “They’ve got her between them,” Derek said, eyes narrowed and head cocked, listening to things he and Allison had no chance of hearing with their human ears. “But she’s trying to move towards town. I need to go help them.”

           “Go. Ally and I will head to the enclosure and fix the wards.”

           “Call your Dad. Have him and Parrish on standby just in case. Ally, call Chris too?”

“I’m on it,” Allison said, turning away and already pressing her phone to her ear.

Stiles’ eyes caught Derek’s gaze as the wolf shifted closer, cool September breeze ruffling his dark hair and trying to lift the map off the car.

           “You’ll be careful.” Derek’s voice was low. Meant only for him.

           “You know the rest of the pack might not be, but I actually am an FBI agent.” Stiles grinned, moving until he was nearly pressed to Derek and it took no effort to brush his lips against the alpha’s.

           “I know.” There was a heaviness to Derek’s voice that Stiles wasn’t sure how to interpret. It wasn’t like this was the first time they’d had to ditch their plans for some emergency. Supernatural or otherwise.

           “I’m sorry our dinner got interrupted.” He said, gently, ducking his head to get Derek to meet his gaze.

           “Me too.” Derek looked up, kissed him, and stepped back. “I’ll see you soon.” He turned, eyes already burning red and headed in the direction of the pack.

           “Hey!” Stiles yelled before Derek broke the tree line. The wolf stopped and turned crimson eyes back to him. “I love you.”

           “I love you too.”

           Stiles stood watching the place Derek had disappeared until Allison touched his shoulder.

           “All set?” He asked, pulling out his own phone to fire off a quick text to his dad and Parrish, asking them to keep an eye on the main roads heading out of the Preserve. After he’d completed his training, Stiles had been surprised when he was asked to be the bureau’s supernatural liaison to the Beacon County Sheriff’s Department, but wasted no time saying yes.

           He’d only been settled in for a few months when Derek had kissed him for the first time after a particularly difficult battle with a witch. That was two years ago, and they hadn’t looked back since.

           Allison moved at his side, strapping on a tactical vest and pulling back her hair before retrieving her tranquilizer rifle from the trunk. He stepped up beside her and pulled on his own gear, a tact vest and tranq handgun in a shoulder holster. “Let’s take the bike. It’ll be faster.”

           Allison just nodded, slung the rifle’s strap over her shoulder and climbed on behind him when he cranked the motorcycle’s engine over.

***

    Chaos. Absolute and utter chaos. Erica and Boyd were pulling dishes out to set the table. Isaac was rooting around in the fridge for beverages. Stiles was sitting on the counter, feet swinging until his heels clicked against the cabinet door. Derek wondered how he managed to endure all the noise, and how in the world he’d ever lived without it.

    “I’m telling you,” Erica laughed, reaching into one of the kitchen cabinets to get glasses for soda. “It’s a good thing none of you ever signed up to be cowboys because you don’t know the first thing about herding.”

    “We’re wolves!” Isaac countered. “It’s a natural instinct and we totally had it under control.”

    Boyd snorted. “You and Scott would have had that poor troll all the way to Sacramento if Erica and I hadn’t shown up.”

    “Hey!” Scott pouted from the front window where he was watching for the pizza delivery. “We weren’t doing that bad...were we?” Allison grinned and walked over to press a kiss to his cheek.

    However they’d managed it, the troll was once again safely within the confines of the wards Stiles had repaired. Derek had hoped when all was said and done that the pack would take the hint and let he and Stiles get back to their anniversary evening.

    No such luck.

    “All those poor hikers denied their bigfoot sightings.” Isaac shook his head. “Just because you didn’t want to take the scenic route.”

    “Hey, what have I told you before?” Stiles piped up, sounding like the amazing emissary he’d become. “We don’t contribute to the bigfoot rumors.” His lips quirked up on the sides and his eyes locked onto to Derek’s as if to say, “Can you believe these kids?”  

    Stiles had grown up so much, endured and persevered through so many trials, and yet Derek was still blown away by the simple joy sparkling in the warm brown eyes that he got lost in every chance he could.

He knew in that instant that he didn’t want to wait. Not another day. Not another minute. He’d had special plans for their date that night, but like so many dates before, their lives had pulled them away from the perfect moment he had hoped for.

It was like a lightning strike to the spine, that realization. This was their life. This was their family. Despite all the pain and loss they’d both experienced, here they were, in the kitchen of the rebuilt version of his family home, surrounded by their pack, their family. Laughter. Love. No moment could more perfect than that.

“Marry me.” Derek said, loud enough only for Stiles to hear him over the clatter.

Everything stopped. Nobody moved. Nobody breathed.

Stiles hopped off the counter still holding Derek’s gaze and took the few steps between them until he was standing close enough to Derek for their chests to brush. Lifting his arms, he grasped the back of Derek’s neck, tilting his head until their foreheads rested together.

“Is that what had you so on edge earlier?” Stiles whispered.

Derek nodded, and Stiles smiled.

“Silly wolf. Of course I’ll marry you.”

Derek pressed forward, capturing Stiles’ lips with his own and the pack erupted in joyous howls. The kiss was awkward because they were both smiling too much, but Derek wouldn’t have changed any of it.

“Oh my god, my ears!” Stiles laughed, pulling back but not leaving Derek’s arms. “Take the howling outside you bunch of ingrates.”

The pack, of course, did the exact opposite and converged on the two of them with congratulations and hugs and back slaps. Through the din, Derek caught Stiles’ eyes, a small smile on his face. This was their life: escapee trolls, rambunctious pack, protecting, and loving each other.

    Stiles winked and grinned back.

[isabellestillman]

Strong (In)Dependent Woman

From an evolutionary perspective, humans are not meant to be alone. Darwin and our seventh-grade science teachers would have us recall that the foremost objective of any living thing is to procreate. Our species requires the meeting of two distinct individuals to do so: we need a second human to survive.

From the perspective of my elite, liberal, feminist upbringing, a young woman ought to survive on her own. In my world, engagements before age 25 are met with shock if not opprobrium, breaking up with him is encouraged in favor of “doing you,” career-based choices are lauded over those that prioritize relationships. ‘Survival,’ in my case, often seems synonymous with ‘self-reliance.’

Run fast, be smart, get dirty, eat what you want—and don’t ever think you need a man to make you whole: it’s a crucial set of tips, an education in womanhood of which too many girls and women are deprived. It’s one that I’ve taken seriously throughout my adolescence. But having internalized its expectations of autonomy, I’ve begun to scold myself for longing, for loneliness, for the slightest whiff of dependence.

It is this capacity to scold that I now question.

Will was my blind date to a wine-and-cheese dorm party my junior year of college: an unfamiliar face with mountain-man hair, his gangly frame swimming in a sport coat, paired perfectly with beat-up trail running shoes. It was a first sight thing. That night we didn’t leave our corner of the room once. We traded thoughts on the Green Mountains and Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, privilege and justice, the scenes at the tables where we’d grown up eating dinner.

The next week, we went for burgers and beers in town. Four days later, I wrote in my journal, “Something I know for sure: I am falling in love.” From then on, we saw each other every day. We’d drive down dirt roads to catch sunsets and eat pancakes in bed and try to figure out how to be good in the world.

We were so different; that was what drew me in. I craved something other, something to shatter the carefully sculpted perspectives I’d held for the first two decades of my life. Will challenged me, his mind full of questions I’d never wondered and convictions I’d never entertained. I was spellbound by his way of seeing the world, hungry for the way he made me eat away at my own beliefs. For a while, I thought that was what it meant to find a partner.  

But over time, our differences began to wear, revealing themselves not just as day-to-day misunderstandings but as existential crises. Little things at first: Will was a minimalist, the owner of roughly five shirts, a couple pairs of shorts, and a laptop from 2007. I like clothes (whatever!), enjoy dinner out, spent $30 on Amazon for a poster to hang in my dorm. The first winter of our relationship, I bought a new sweater. I wore it to his house and waited in his bathroom, talking to him through the curtain as he finished showering with his simple bar of soap. I caught my reflection in the mirror—the sweater suddenly egregiously bright—and felt immediately sick to my stomach: You don’t need this sweater, or any of the countless things you have. You’re wasteful and spoiled. Your priorities are all off. What is wrong with you?

Maybe you know the feeling–when minor lifestyle choices bear the weight of character traits, criteria for judgment. Will managed to keep his world view consistent down to the last detail—living only on bread and peanut butter, listening only to music with ‘real’ messages, keeping as much distance from his phone as possible. And, in contrast, I was shallow, asinine, silly, out of touch with the systems and structures of the world.

It was more than just wardrobe choices. It was Big Ideas About How To Live: my drive to change the world and his fear of unbridled ambition; my need for light-hearted frivolity, his reading of my laid-backness as a failure to scrutinize my surroundings; my trusting of certain ideas, his only constant being skepticism.

As these chasms grew, my strength depleted. And the same person who made me question my worth was the one I turned to for affirmation. If Will couldn’t spend the afternoon with me, I wondered what it meant and begged him to assure me it was nothing. When I felt unseen or inferior, I would escape to his dorm room to feel his hands in my hair, the band-aid of physical touch. I could never hear the words “I love you” enough. I needed him to say I was smart, insightful, vibrant: that he loved me even with my flaws. I needed him to tell me I was good.

It ended almost as suddenly as it started. A phone call three months after graduation. And soon, I began to wonder if my ‘flaws’ had really been flaws at all.

That summer, I moved to Boston to get my Masters in Education, knowing that what I needed to work on was being good enough for myself.

And it worked.

I became the strong independent woman my upbringing had enshrined. I got a 4.0 GPA at Harvard, took on double the required teaching load, created a new social circle, read and wrote more than I had in years. I got drinks and kissed by the Charles and met people’s friends and sometimes stayed the night. I dated around.

In the midst of all this, my best friend broke up with her long-term boyfriend. It was a long time coming, but nonetheless sad, difficult and dark. It was also, as our group of girlfriends agreed, a great time for Zoey to “work on herself.” “Time to do you,” we said. “Time to become the strong independent woman you envisioned when you made this decision.” Plant a garden, we suggested. Make a scrapbook, join a soccer league, play poker, paint. Make yourself happy. Be independent.

It was funny, hearing myself counsel Zooey. So convinced that I knew what she needed—to do things that ‘made her independent’—advising her with ostensible confidence, but never quite sure how, exactly, I’d arrived at my own self-discovery. I’d certainly tried to learn to cook, to train for a half marathon, to finish the Sunday crossword, to skateboard. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t these things that had gotten me where I was.

I was afraid, when Daniel came along that February, that I hadn’t yet solidified my independence, that I was still vulnerable to other people’s ideas of what would make me ‘good.’ But as we spent more time together, that fear sort of dropped away. Eventually it stopped occurring to me at all, because with Daniel I never felt like there were expectations. I felt like my own self, at my very best. The most perceptive observer, eagerest listener, funniest banterer, caringest ally, cleverest referencer, insightfulest reflector, outgoingest adventurer, sweetest lover: peak Isabeller. Not because I was trying. Because Daniel somehow brought it out.

In the spring of 2017, I got a job teaching at a school I believed in, in Denver, which I knew would suit me better than Boston. I didn’t want to leave Daniel, but in my strong independent heart I knew better than to base a career choice on some guy I’d been dating a few months. Even if I did suspect, as I still do, that he might be the guy. As my friends, family, and culture had taught me, I sided with my strong independent woman self.

It was a tearful (sobful, really) sunrise parting, imbued with the understanding that staying together would be essentially impossible. He was a third-year medical student, I a first-year teacher, the number of three-day weekends sub-three, the distance a seven-hour, two-thousand-mile journey.

I pushed. I said, “Let’s leave the option open,” and, “It might be worth a try.” He smiled noncommittally, saying it didn’t make sense, that it would be more pain-inducing than joyful. The rational side of me saw his reasoning as legitimate. The strong independent side of me saw single life as ‘the right thing’ for me. But the feeling side of me still believed that it was possible. That when something makes you feel like the best you, holding on makes the most sense.

Now, lying on the floor of my new, empty apartment, my mind rings, “I need you.” And in some ways, I do. I need people in my life who inspire me. I need to laugh often, which we did. I need places where I know my best self comes standard. Just like I need these things from my friends. Why is it that different to need from a partner? Why is it that different to need from a man, a lover?

-

If you have a minute, Google “strong independent woman”: the how-to’s are endless, not to mention simple, degrading, sexist, and frankly absurd. (My personal favorite: lovepanky.com’s “How to be a Strong Independent Woman that Men Love.”)

Our society puts so much value on independence: make your own choices, discover your own happiness. Look in the mirror and say, “I look fly in this sweater, and I’m keeping it!” It sounds empowering. But it’s just another “women should ____.” A sexist expectation. A pigeonhole that’s exhausting at best, inhuman at worst. Being human means at least sometimes reveling in relying on others, in the beauty of finding your best self with other people—in a dependence that secures your survival, rather than threatens it.

I’m working on a theory of two kinds of dependence: in type one dependence, we rely on others to make ourselves believe we are good and worthy. In type two dependence, we rely on others because with them, we simply are that way. The fine line between the two gets lost easily in the fog of romantic feelings.  

It’s only a hypothesis, with a mere 23 years of evidence behind it, but it passes the common sense test. A woman’s choice of whether and how to depend should be just that: hers.

[baybiebear]

Learning to be okay even when you’re alone

It’s really been a while since I’ve been on this platform. I just thought that maybe I would pen down some of my thoughts here. I was away in Medan for about a month, where I was able to actually engage in a lot of self-reflection, given all that I spent alone by myself. 

So for one thing, I learnt that: (a) I’m going to be okay; and (b) I need to learn to love and care for myself, because no one else would do it for me. 

My boyfriend and I were together for five years, but our communication really just broke down. When he first confessed to me - he was the first guy to ever do that - I think I clung on really hard to his affection. When our communication couldn’t work, I thought if I just tried harder, I could make it work. Deep down I was afraid if he didn’t want me, no one would. I was afraid to admit that perhaps maybe we just weren’t compatible. 

Came May 2018 when he got busy with school. There have been times where he was bogged down with army duties and school, but I never felt so neglected before. These feelings seemed to manifest in a behaviour where I sought affection from others of the opposite sex; craving love and attention from someone who would validate that I am attractive and desirable. 

When I came to the conclusion that it was time to break up - after struggling some long five years (this is not to say that there weren’t happy memories; the good times just weren’t enough to outweigh the bad I guess) - I felt a sense of peace. I knew that God has spoken to my heart and gave me the grace to accept that this was His will for me. 

The period of time which came after that wasn’t easy. Work kept me busy, which was a good thing, but I also struggled with seeking affection from another person. He was present when my boyfriend wasn’t, but after the break up, his attitude to me seemed to have changed somewhat. Perhaps he decided he didn’t want to waste his time on me. I felt that he suddenly stopped caring as much or talking to me as often/comfortably/casually. 

I guess it’s difficult to explain why you’d have feelings for someone. My friends, family and colleagues have all warned me that he’s not worth it. Yet, the heart is a fickle and curious thing isn’t it? I can’t tell you why I care about him; I just do. I try very hard not to care about him too much, but sometimes I can’t help it (the moment I found out he was sick I went to get him some vitamin c). Silly isn’t it? 

While in Medan, my ex suggested that I watch Anna Akana’s youtube videos because she reminded him of me. That’s when I also chanced upon Matthew Hussey’s videos. My main takeaways from their videos were that: (a) if I don’t value myself, no one will learn to value me; (b) time alone is good as well; being single is a good time for me to focus on caring for myself and growing as an individual; and (c) keep your standards high (don’t lower or change them just to be with a guy). 

He’s just one of the many guys that will come and go in my life, my ex also said to me: “You’re one of the few girls who can have high standards because you have the substance to back it up. So don’t compromise on them.” There’s a whole lot of overwhelming and mixed emotions I’ve been feeling and feel right now as I write this. I loved my ex; and he, me, but I guess God had never intended us to be together. We disobeyed His warnings when my church mentor advised getting together because of our struggles in drawing the line when it came to physical intimacy. The relationship began to draw us away from God, rather than closer to Him; it wasn’t honouring Him at all. Despite how we’ve behaved and the series of events which led to the break up, I’m just so thankful that God had turned it all for good to reveal to me a part of my life which I have not yet surrendered to Him. I longed for affection from humans because my mother never expressed much to me as a child growing up. When my ex was the first guy to express any interest in me, I held on so tightly to that affection I refused to let go, even though I was hurting. And when a life buoy would float alongside to offer me temporary relief, I would cling onto it as if I were clinging on for my life. 

But I couldn’t base my self-worth off whether someone wanted to be with me. I had to learn how to love myself because the broken people in this broken world wouldn’t have enough of the love I longed for. Only Jesus would; and I had to learn how to draw from His unending flow of love. I had to find for myself my identity in Him and feel secure in it (still a work in progress everyday). One day, as I was missing this guy very much but refused to give into it, Jesus asked me “Why do you long for the love and attention of someone else, when I would give you all that you ask for, need and more? I am enough.” Then it struck me. This emptiness (that’s right it’s an emptiness I feel) could only be filled with the love of God. 

There were nights I hurt a lot inside. It hurt me to think of the past five years and all that which has faded or will fade. It hurt me to think of what I haven give up. There were nights when in the cold darkness of my loneliness, I felt like cutting myself again, in hopes that the pain might fade. But I think this past year, I've grown stronger. I don't cry as easily now; I also don't give in to cutting so easily anymore (I haven't cut in three/four years? This is something I'm really proud of, because it took me many years to break out of his bad habit.) 

And finally, I learnt that I can walk away. I have the power to walk away from the things that make my unhappy. I don't have to let myself keep reliving the unhappy memories, or putting myself in situations which make myself miserable. If a guy values you and wants to be with you enough, he'll chase you. 

What makes a woman attractive is that she has standards; standards which are high. What makes her more attractive is her ability to walk away from someone she likes - Matthew Hussey 

So do what makes you happy. We only have one life, so live it well. Chase what you love doing and do it with a heart of gold. Do your best to love those who are broken, for everyone else just needs a little extra kindness. And don't forget to take good care of yourself - this is what I should have told myself a long time ago. Don't forget to love yourself too and you’ll be okay.