#i do think though that she might have wound up getting a job in his office after the movie

[butterflysnowflake]

man can I just say how adorable Wolf's interaction with Delia in the wedding scene is? When she's explaining her situation he gives her the most understanding looks and it's because they both effectively had the same cause of death. Delia turned her mourning of Charles into part of her performance art, and died from being scammed with asps who were NOT defanged. Wolf wanted to deliver the most authentic performance possible and died from presumably a negligent armorer who didn't bother to check if the grenade was live or not before shooting. both of them were quite literally killed by their art (not by their own faults to be fair but from someone else's irresponsibility). and it's kind of lovely Delia got such a sympathetic escort back to the netherworld who knows her situation firsthand probably better than anyone else

it's weirdly wholesome and empathetic even as their situations were both played for morbid laughs, and if Delia didn't have eyes only for Charles (what's left of him) and Wolf wasn't in a committed relationship with Janet I'd even say I could have seen things going somewhere between them

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon making it clear that you are the only one he wants

“You alright, sweetheart?” Simon’s deep, gruff voice hit your ears, pulling your out of your thoughts. 

You nodded without a sound, subtly trying to divert your gaze so that he wouldn’t look into your eyes and see all the emotion swimming inside, but at this point you really didn’t need to answer the question. The way you sit across from him with your brow furrowed into two steep peaks and your shoulders slumped forward and tight as you idly picked at the skin around your fingernails was enough of a sign. Even though you tried to dismiss him with a few muttered “I’m fine” and “It’s nothing” phrases, the man knew; whatever it was had been eating away at you for some time. 

Turning his full attention to you he took your chin into his coarse grasp and tilted your head upward until your eyes met. “Then why can’t ya even look at me?” he posed his next question. 

You let out a sigh, nowhere to run now as Simon wasn’t gonna let you back out. “It’s just…silly...” 

An incident had been on your mind for a week now, something that should have been resolved already, but try as you might to let it go it just couldn’t be shaken. A new younger female recruit had got it into her head that she wanted a piece of the huge, mysterious Lieutenant and began to flaunt that young, supple body in his direction. Simon had not allowed it to continue for even a second after that initial encounter, making sure that you knew everything in detail, and immediately she was reprimanded and reassigned, but the damage had been done to your confidence.

Were you really right for him? Were you enough? You had never really thought of yourself as ugly, but when pitted up against some pretty thing that had the freshness of young beauty on her side, you weren’t so sure if you could really compare and that made your usual abundance of self-confidence drop to nearly zero. 

Amber eyes gazed back at you as Simon waited patiently for your reply. Taking a deep, calming breath you continued. “I guess I just can’t help but wonder if you made the right choice,” you said.

“And what choice is that, hmm?” he pushed, letting you use your words even though he was sure where this was headed.

“Choosing me,” you said so softly it was barely above a whisper.

Just as he suspected, it was still bothering you and he kicked himself for not doing more before now to show you that there was no one on base or even in the whole fucking world that could compare to what he had with you. There was no one up until now that had ever kept him so tightly wound as you did that he constantly felt like he couldn't get you out of his head, that he never could get enough of you; it was a constant struggle just to keep sane so that he could do his job when he knew what would be waiting for him when he got home.

That’s why it took nothing for him to know exactly what it was that he needed to do now.

Without a word the grip on your chin was released as Simon stood to his feet. He reached down and took a hold of your hand, giving it a good, solid tug. “Come on,” he beckoned with a nod of his head to stand with him and through a bit of stubborn reluctance, you followed.

As soon as you were on your feet he pulled you into his hard, warm chest, leaning his head in close until you could feel his breath against your lips. “Of all the fuckin' mistakes I've made in my life, ya ain't one of 'em. I think someone needs a bit of extra attention, and I was a fuckin' fool waitin' till now to give it to her,” he murmured, his voice lowering into that register that always sent shivers down your spine. “Let me take care of ya, let me turn that brain of yours off for a bit and show ya how sure I am that I made the right choice.”

Before you could answer, his lips had already connected with your own to steal the words right out of your mouth. If there was one thing that experienced military man was superior at it was making you come apart at the seams like it was his fucking job. And boy did he take pride in his work.

But right here and now he would be even more meticulous in his affections as it was clear you needed to be reminded that you and only you were the best goddamn thing to grace his miserable existence. All of his undivided attention would be yours tonight and he would not stop until every single worry had left that pretty little head.

Promises were breathed into your mouth by him. "I'm not stoppin' until ya know just how fuckin' much I don't want anyone else besides ya."

In a flurry of lips and tangled limbs, you found your way over to the bed. Like a surgeon performing a delicate operation, he carefully removed each article of your clothing one by one, making sure that the exposed skin was immediately caressed and attended to before he moved on to the next. Every inch of skin on you would feel the passion in his embrace. By the time you hit the mattress’ surface, your body was already a tingling mess of nerve ends bursting to life in ways that made your mind numb.

The lights had been turned down low, their soft incandescent glow warm and inviting as the breathy sounds of unspoken desires from a man consumed filled the air. It was hard to think of anything as the thick tension permeated the space while you lay there naked sprawled out across the sheets with Simon at your side. Adoration was what he was after tonight, needing you to be left as nothing more than a puddle of pure bliss in the middle of his bed.

Toughened fingers traced all of those subtle imperfections lining your body with such tenderness as if each scar and blemish and indention were incredibly precious to him; his lips followed not far behind as he whispered praises into your skin. Those gentle words that were only for your ears alone as he couldn’t have people thinking he was going soft…even though he absolutely had been since the moment he got with you.

“How could ya ever think I would want anythin’ other than this, other than ya?" he breathed the question into the skin of your torso. “You're all I could ever want, all I fuckin’ think about; the best goddamn thing to ever happen to me. My pretty girl.” 

His nose nuzzled against the crook of your neck and he caught that scent: the smell of your body’s natural musk that just one whiff of could make his head fuzzy and his body tingle in a way he could not describe. All those beautifully fragrant notes that combined together to create a profile that was distinct to you so that even if he couldn’t see you he knew you were near. Closing his eyes, he breathed you in deep.

“Christ, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful, sweetheart,” he purred into the warm skin of your shoulder before he was on the move, lips caressing over the swell of your breasts with nipples already stiff. “I just can’t ever get enough of ya. How could ya ever fuckin' think I'd give up all this for some young tart who'd get sick 'a me sooner rather than later? Fuck, you’re all I want, all I'll eva fuckin' need.”

Down, down, down he continued over the length of your stomach towards your thighs. It was like performing a sacred act, him giving you the full breadth of his overwhelming desire as he made his way from your lips to your legs, getting everything in between. He shot a hungry glance back up at you as he reached those pillowy creations that he loved so much.

He sighed. "Every inch of ya is like a goddamn dream."

Extra time he spent on your thighs as he embraced those voluptuous curves over and over again with his mouth, kissing and sucking, running his nose along them until you were whining and writhing beneath him. Shit, he had not even touched anywhere near your throbbing clit yet and still you could not stop the way your heart pounded out of your chest or your short, sticcatoed breathing that filled the silence. 

“Please,” the plea fell from your open mouth, but there was no need to beg. This was your night after all and he was not about to deny you of anything.

"Whatever my pretty girl wants she's gonna fuckin' get," he smiled. "Always."

Slowly Simon’s large hands spread you open just wide enough that he could lean his face into your mossy bank. More delicate kisses were dotted over your petals, his mouth embracing all around that tender slit before his tongue gently slipped inside the folds. All that doting on your body had done it’s job in stimulating so that he was met with a wetness on his tongue as he dived in. 

Shit were you sweet, like eating a peach except this one would not run out before he had gotten his fill. 

That masterful tongue drew short, concise circles around your clit, lips locking around the bud intermittently to suck, using the two techniques in tandem while his nails drug lightly over your thighs until your were bucking against his face. There was no rush in his movements; he was going to take his time in drawing out your pleasure. 

You couldn’t make a sound, your mind consumed completely with every flick of his tongue, every press of it firmly against you, every pass of his hands over your thighs; overstimulated doesn’t even begin to describe it. Eyes closed, mouth wide open, desperate music being moaned into the room was all you could muster as he brought you closer and closer to the precipice of your pleasure. 

Leisurely Simon lapped at your clit, no rush, no hurry, with measured strokes that eased you pleasantly into your orgasm instead of violently throwing you over. You came so effortlessly that you are able to ride out that wave of ecstasy for minutes as his pace stayed at that steady rhythm until there was no more left for you to give. Only then did he emerge like a man baptized anew. 

By the time he finally thrust inside you, you were a glorious mess of sweat and mewls and cum. He took you right on your back, needing to see that look in your eyes that made him feel like he was your whole world. No muscle-straining positions will he put you in tonight as all he wants is to gaze down at the most beautiful creature he’s ever laid eyes on. 

“Do ya think I have any doubts now?” he asked with a muted smile. "Think I could do this with just anyone?"

Your cheeks, already warm and pink, flushed bright crimson. “No,” you shook your head.

“That's a good girl,” he praised as he adjusted your legs to be comfortable around his thick torso. “Then let’s finish this off right, yeah? You and me, sweetheart.”

Slow, even thrusts he pounded into you, stretching you and filling you full even at this angle, as he met your lips again to nearly choke you on all his passion. You could taste yourself on his breath as he claimed you body and soul. 

“Ya feel so fuckin’ good, just wanna stay buried in ya all the time,” he groaned between precise thrusts through your tight, moist core. Your body was paradise and he could not get enough. Pulling back he watched the connection of your bodies right at the point where he slipped inside of you. You were so full of him there was no distinction between where he ended and you began.

Simon was never a religious man, most of the time as far from it as humanly possible, but the closest he would ever come to faith was the moment he got his first feel of all that glory that first time you two went at it. It was then that your body became his church and from then on he was more than ready to give his life to worshiping at your alter with his fingers and tongue and cock; any and all instruments at his disposal to show you his unwavering devotion. 

That man had been starved for far longer than he would like to admit, but the first time he buried himself in you that was all it took to fill him up. It was only you that he craved: your softness and warmth and light and no one else would ever do. As much as you were his, he was yours.

His hands ran up the sides of your torso, leaving burning trails that made you shiver as he palmed both of your breasts in each one of his hands to massage the flesh. “I want ya to come for me again,” he said, more need in his voice. “Can ya do that for me pretty girl?”

Rapidly you nodded your head up and down as you focused on what was coming.

“That’s it; wanna be sure my girl gets everything she needs to stay satisfied with me.”

There was a feeling of safety and security that you got when you were with him; no matter how rough or passionate the sex got, Simon was always right there with you in the moment so that you never felt that it was one sided. Right now that feeling spread through you along with the gathering warmth in your abdomen to help you get out of your head and let go. All those worries, all those fears, they left completely as he thrust inside you a few more times and you spilled over the edge once more.

He kissed you hard on the mouth, holding your raw lips together once more as he followed right after you. His shoulder shook as his released himself and fell into that high that he would never tire of- not when it was with you. As he let go of your lips, he smiled back down at you; that glow of ecstasy causing his heart to skip a beat.

“Ya see, there’s no one in this whole fuckin’ world I want more than ya, sweetheart,” he whispered into your temple before placed a quick kiss. “And I am always willin’ to show ya that you are the only girl for me.”

[gloomwitchwrites]

IM FEELING ANGSTY TODAY so what about 141 who is in love with reader but they are in love with someone else <3

ANON! STRAIGHT TO JAIL!

But in all seriousness, I love some yummy angst. Make me suffer. Make the characters suffer. Let's all suffer a little bit. Hope you shed a tear or two (or don't).

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Presented in four double drabbles.

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, alcohol, stalking, flirting, yearning, angst, suggestive themes, brief mention of intimate relations, divorce, co-parenting, nurse!reader

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist

John Price

The door opens, and your smiling face greets him. You look a bit tired, but even so, you're beautiful. John wants to snapshot this moment. To savor it.

“You’re early,” you breathe.

John shrugs. “That all right?”

He did it on purpose. The new boyfriend shouldn’t be home yet, which means John can have some time with you.

“Is that Dad?”

The familiar voice of his daughter and small feet slapping against a wood floor reaches him. She appears, arms outstretched eagerly.

“Hey there, dove,” chuckles John, lifting his daughter into his arms. “Ready to spend the weekend with me?”

She squeals with delight, her small arms wrapping around his neck. John glances at you, urging memory to resurface and seize you both.

But it is not to be.

The boyfriend appears. The man that came after the divorce.

John doesn’t blame you for moving on. His job drained the marriage into nothing.

But he still wants you.

“John,” nods the man in greeting.

“Is her bag ready?” asks John, addressing you and not acknowledging the boyfriend.

“Yes,” you reply, handing it to him.

John wants to say, “I love you.”

But he doesn’t.

“I’ll bring her back Sunday evening.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Vape smoke lingers in the air.

Kyle reclines on the sofa, his head on a pillow, scrolling his socials in the dim dark. The television is on, the volume turned low to create background noise. On the table next to him is a bottle of tequila, half-empty and warm. He takes a swig, savoring the burn.

Kyle’s gaze is glued to the phone screen, fingers tapping until he finds your page.

He shouldn’t do this. It’ll only upset him—making him yearn for something he doesn’t have and might never know. It’s a foolish endeavor. Heartbreak just for fucking kicks.

He gazes at your smiling face, of how perfect you are to him. It’s not fucking fair—even if he respects your choice.

You should be his. The two of you should be together.

But there is someone else. A man that Kyle despises but only because you’re not his. The bloke is a good man. He’ll take care of you. Treat you right. Be there when you need him and not away on another mission without any idea of when or if he’s coming back.

Kyle’s chest aches.

"Fuck," he sighs, locking his phone.

He reaches for the tequila.

John "Soap" MacTavish

“How bad is it, doc? Think I’ll live?”

Soap puts every ounce of devious flirtation he can in his tone. He’s putting it on thick.

He gives you his best smile, and he gets the exact reaction he wants.

Your head bows in embarrassment, a soft smile spreading on your face. Your touch is gentle, taking great care to wrap the wound on his bicep.

You’re flustered. It’s bloody adorable.

“You’ll live, sergeant,” you reply, voice a little husky.

It’s such a small thing, but Soap clings to it. To him, this is a sliver of hope. A possibility even though reality says otherwise.

Soap leans in a bit, pushing into your space which almost seems to worsen your flustered demeanor. “I took a hard hit.”

“You did,” you agree. “It’s good they brought you in.”

You have no idea Soap asked Simon to hit him harder during training just so he’d end up here.

But it’s not to be.

The man that has your heart arrives, strolling into the communal exam room without even glancing at Soap.

“You’re ready to go, sergeant,” you reply brightly, demeanor changing now that your boyfriend is here.

Soap’s stomach twists into a knot.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon sits in the dark in his home office. A slight twinge of shame paints his mood, like it always does when he watches the monitors.

He tells himself he does this to protect you. That he’s looking after you even if you’re not aware of his actions. This is just a precaution until you finally realize that you should be his.

Simon removes a cigarette from his jacket pocket. When it ignites, and that luscious burn hits his lungs, a calmness settles over him.

His actions are valid. This behavior is fine.

Simon settles back in his chair, gaze roaming over the different camera views. There are fifteen of them in total. Each one is in your home in various rooms. Infiltration and surveillance are something he’s fucking good at. And he’s done it here with excellent precision.

It’s some of his best work.

In your bedroom, you’re currently on your back, and completely naked. The wanker you call a “boyfriend” is thrusting like a bloody fucking idiot. It’s clear to Simon that this man only cares about himself.

Simon could make you come. He’d give you plenty of orgasms.

But you’re not his.

You belong to someone else.

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

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@itsberrydreemurstuff @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@keiva1000 @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff

@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[mountttmase]

What I Need

Note - the longest fic I’ve ever written 😭 I’ve added a little ‘break’ halfway through so if you did want to stop and come back to read the rest later it’s easier to see where you’ve left off but if you want to read it all in one go feel free 🩷 thank you @carlottawllms for the initial request and I’m sorry it took so long to get to 😭 and thank you to all my besties for your help with this, I couldn’t do it without you 🩷 I know it’s long but feedback would be appreciated immensely and I promise to never write a fic this long again 😌

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 20.5k

Warnings - angst and fluff

Just once you thought you might be treated to a well deserved lie in this Saturday but unfortunately the universe had other plans for you, just like always.

Your phone had been vibrating for a few minutes on the nightstand and you knew it was someone trying to call you before a barrage of texts were sent your way. Letting them fly in before you picked your phone up to see who it was and what they wanted even though you knew exactly who it was and why they were pestering you at this ungodly hour.

You already make it feel like it’s not worth living you thought, but before you could think about anything else his photo flashed up on your screen as he tried to call you again and you begrudgingly hit accept before you were permanently etched into his bad books.

‘Hello?’

‘About bloody time y/n, what the hell have you been doing?’ He scolded you. His voice hushed but you could tell he wanted to shout at you for not picking up and you rolled your eyes at his stupid attitude that you didn’t need this time of the morning.

‘Sleeping, Mason. You know what probably most of the uk population is doing right now since it’s stupid o’clock on a bloody Saturday’

‘Well I don’t give a shit, I need you. How fast do you think you can get here?’

‘I don’t know, Mase-‘ you started, not ready to leave the comfort of your bed just yet but he was cutting you off as soon as he realised what you were about to say.

‘No, y/n don’t do this. Did you not see my message? Code red yeah, that means I need you here now’

‘I’m sure it’s not that bad, you big girls blouse’

‘She’s offering to make me breakfast. Pancakes if you please’ he told you, his voice an octave higher as if he couldn’t believe what he was saying to you and you had to hold in a giggle at how ridiculous he sounded.

‘You love pancakes’

‘No I love your pancakes, there's a difference. I don’t know what she puts in hers she could drug me for all I know. Or make the whole wheat ones like a maniac’

‘I mean it’s hard to fuck up pancakes im sure they’re-‘

‘Can we forget about the bloody pancakes, how long till you’re here?’ He demanded, but you were already up and pulling a hoodie on before stuffing yourself into your shoes.

‘I’ll be five minutes’ you sighed, grabbing your keys and walking out the door as Mason repeatedly told you to hurry up until you had to hang up as you began to drive.

How it became the routine of you bailing him out of these situations was a long story.

Mason had been your best friend since you were little. Your dad being one of his first football coaches and even though you went to separate primary schools you still saw him most weekends when you helped out and sometimes joined in with the games. Mason teaching you how to kick the ball properly and you knew when you scored your first goal he let you win.

You eventually stopped going to practice, not seeing Mason at all for a year or so until you both wound up going to the same secondary school and it’s like you picked up where you left off.

You watched each other grow from awkward little teenagers to full grown adults and as much as you tried to keep your friendship the same you knew it would never be normal.

You went the usual route; college, uni, big office job in a fancy company while Mason lived his dreams and changed right before your eyes. Subtle changes that came over time meaning you never really caught onto them but the shy polite boy you once knew was gone.

He was cocky and sure of himself. Cheeky in a way that all the girls loved and he used it to his advantage to get exactly what he wanted. You weren’t blind, you know he was handsome but the way he threw his money and looks about just to get into some poor girls knickers made you sick sometimes but you stuck by him through it all. Feeling like you were the only person who had his best interest at heart most of the time.

Mason didn’t have friends, he had yes men. People to tell him he looked good and that it didn’t matter what he did or what he said to people because they’d clear it up for him afterwards. Leaving his picture perfect image intact so the world still thought he was a good boy even though he was anything but.

You didn’t know when, but you too had fallen into that category. Running around after him like he was a toddler that had just learned to walk, trying to protect him from crashing into things he shouldn’t be and picking up all of his mess after him for little to no thanks. You didn’t even know why you did it at this point. A sense of loyalty maybe? Or wanting to keep him away from certain people that you knew only used him. You knew he was a grown man at the end of the day and he was old enough to look after himself but still you carried on.

Even the routine of helping him kick girls out of his house was a mystery to you. The first time was a mistake when you’d turned up heartbroken on his doorstep after a failed exam and the girl he’d managed to score that night made a swift exit much to his satisfaction. Telling you he’d been trying to get rid of her for an hour but she wouldn’t budge and you were the perfect solution.

When he called you up and asked if you could do something similar for him the next week you refused at first. Thinking it was weird and you were worried about the girls feelings but he wore you down like he always did until the next thing you knew you were fake crying on his door mat as he ushered a pretty blonde girl out the door with the fake promise of calling her back later that day.

You must have helped him throw at least 30 girls out now. A catalogue of excuses at your disposal and even though you knew it was weird, it had merged itself in as just another part of your friendship and soon enough you were pulling onto his drive and housing yourself out of your car.

You rang the doorbell to make it look more realistic, the door opening a few moments later to Mason who looked more than relieved to see you and you quickly made your way inside to start the act.

‘What do you want? Dead relative, dog or something worse?’ You asked him, pinching your cheeks so they looked pinker before squirming yourself in the eyes with your water bottle. You’d tried and tested the lot but the sports cap you found was the best at making it look like actual tears.

‘Dogs fine, she’s been yapping on about hers all morning and showing me pictures so-‘

‘You’re so cruel, Mason’ you remarked, hoping to make him feel a little bit bad about what he was doing but you knew it was all in vain. He never did.

‘Just start crying before I make you, yeah?’ He laughed so you took the opportunity to get him back and wailed out the loudest fake cry you could muster right in his ear. The sound making him jump before he bounded you into his arms so you could cry into his neck and before you knew it, the sound of a very concerned but sweet sounding woman could be heard in the hallway.

‘Mason? Is everything okay?’

‘No really no’ he told her, the fake worry in his voice making you roll your eyes but you carried on sniffling to help him out. ‘This is my best friend and she’s had some awful news this morning’ he told her, walking you towards the living room so he could sit you on the sofa. ‘I’m really sorry to do this, her dogs just died and she needs me’

‘Oh my god’

‘Yeah she’s really not in a good way’ he confirmed, pulling you in closer and your cries went up in volume and you felt him pinch your side gently as if to tell you to tone it down.

‘Well can I help at all?’ She offered and you actually felt a little sorry for her. She seemed too sweet and you wondered how Mason had got his grubby little claws into her but you’d seen him on nights out and knew how he trapped women under his spell. You were just thankful that you were immune to his powers as if someone treated you like this you’d swing for them.

‘I think it’s best I just stay with her for now, but I’ll text you yeah? I’ve got your number saved?’

‘Oh, yeah okay then’ she uttered before the pair of them fled upstairs to get her things and within a few minutes he was with her at the door. Hearing the talk in hushed tones before he shut the door behind her but you let your cries continue.

‘Alright you can stop that now, sound makes my brain ache’ he groaned as she flopped down onto the sofa next to you and you laughed as you unhid your face from the cushion.

‘You’re welcome, by the way’ you told him. Bumping your shoulder into his as you sat up but he just rolled his eyes. You knew he was thankful even if he didn’t say it exactly but it would be nice to hear it sometime.

‘You fancy some breakfast? I’m in the mood for pancakes’ he winked but you just rolled your eyes at him. Pancakes sounded good to you too but you knew you’d be stuck making them.

‘Where’s Ace? He’s the only reason I’m here’ you asked, deflecting his question as you knew what he was asking and by the look he was giving you he wasn’t too happy about it.

‘Charming’ he scoffed before whistling and the sound of bounding paws made you smile until Ace was running in and jumping into your lap.

‘Hi baby’ you cooed, scratching over his head and trying to avoid the face licks he was sending your way but Mason was just looking at you like he was waiting for something.

‘So… what’s happening with the pancakes?’

‘Ace, your daddy is a very silly man, did you know that?’ You babbled but you could tell Mason was offended with what you’d said.

‘Don’t turn my son against me’

‘Do you want some pancakes, acey? Mumma will make you some’ you babbled too him, knowing there was no way for him to answer but from the look on his face you could that’s what he wanted.

‘Since when are you his mum’ Mason commented, trying to reach over to pet him but you wouldn’t let him. Jumping up so Ace could follow you and he just sighed and rolled his eyes.

‘Since I’m one of the only stable females in his life, okay? Don’t confuse him now’

You left Mason in the living room so you could make some pancakes. Your own belly rubbing as you hadn’t had a chance to think about breakfast this morning but thankfully he had everything in and as soon as he smelt them you heard him walking in to grab some.

‘Why are you making little ones?’ He questioned, grabbing some juice from the fridge and a couple of glasses.

‘They’re for ace’ you shrugged. Plating them up in his little doggy bowl and letting him tuck in before sorting yours and Masons out.

‘So he gets preferential treatment’

‘Do you ever have a day off?’ You muttered, wanting him to just give things a rest for five minutes but you could tell by his laugh he wouldn’t be letting up anytime soon.

‘Shut up, you love me’ he teased, poking you in the sides as he grabbed his plate and the feel of it angered you. He knew you hated being poked and prodded but he just carried on as he loved getting under your skin.

‘Not when you’re like this I don’t’ you sighed and even though you were half joking you had realised over the last few times you’d hung out that being around him was a chore sometimes. His usual playful comments had more venum behind them and now you couldn’t actually work out if he still liked you or not. Being around him never felt as good as it used to but whenever you got upset about it he’d tell you he was playing so you tried to think nothing more of it. Wondering if you were just hormonal or had forgotten how to take a joke.

Halfway through breakfast your thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell ringing. His eyes looking at you pleadingly as if he wanted you to go and get it but you remained firm and stared back at him.

‘Please, y/n. If it’s her she’ll have me talking for another half an hour. Just make her go away please’

‘Fine’ you huffed, getting up and storming to the door and you knew he was smiling from where he sat behind you. ‘I’m not doing the washing up though’

‘Hey, you make the mess you tidy it away’

‘Oh get lost’ you muttered under your breath, opening the door to what you expected to me the girl from earlier but thankfully it was just an Amazon delivery guy and you took the parcel with a smile before bidding him goodbye. ‘Mase? Its just an Amazon parcel you’re safe’

‘Ah amazing, can you open it for me? Should be just a charging cable’ he nodded as he stacked your plates and took them to the dishwasher, leaving you on your own to tear the box open but once you were in you wanted to vanish into thin air.

What you weren’t expecting was the red box that was sitting under the packing paper. The words thin feel jumping out at you first and you groaned loudly as he walked back over to you with a confused expression.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘You’re gross, I swear to god. Why did you make me open this?’ You huffed as you threw the box of condoms his way and he caught it with one hand before looking down with a smile.

‘Ah i forgot about these, got the ribbed ones this time to see if they make a difference’ he winked but you just made fake gagging noises as you walked out of the kitchen and back into the living room where he followed you in shortly after. Thankfully hiding the box out of sight from you.

‘What you doing next Friday? It’s Woody’s birthday so we’re going out and he asked me to ask if you wanna come’ he suddenly piped up with as you turned the tv on and the question took you by surprise.

‘Why didn’t he ask me himself?’

‘Cause he thinks you’re scary’ he winked ‘I’m kidding, he was pretty out of it last night when we made plans and he knew I’d probably see this morning’

‘So now it’s just standard that I kick the girls out your house for you? And all your friends know about it’

‘Pretty much. I’ve given you excellent reviews so if you get calls for similar from the others you can thank me later’ he teased but you weren’t in the mood to argue with him anymore. Huffing as you relaxed back into the sofa but he was soon poking your leg with his finger. ‘You coming next week or what? We’ve got a section booked so there won’t hundreds of people and you don’t know I’ll pay for you’

‘I’m not worried about paying, Mase’ you told him even though in the back of your mind you were a little bit. Mason like to go to the most expensive places and drink the most expensive things and you couldnt keep up with him half the time so the offer of him playing always settled your nerves when it was nights out like this. ‘Can I bring Olivia?’

‘Who’s Olivia?’

‘That new girl from work I was telling you about the other day? The one that’s just moved here and doesn't know anyone’ you told him before realising he probably hadn’t been listening the whole time you were talking about her before.

‘Is she hot?’

‘Mason-‘

‘Im kidding, I’m kidding, You can bring the pope for all I care’ he shrugged but you knew even if you asked him not to go near her he still would.

‘Mason I'm serious, I don’t want you anywhere near her okay? you’ll make things awkward at work and she wouldn’t touch you with with a barge pole anyway’

‘Wow y/n, I’m bruised’ he told you, hand on his heart to make it look like he was hurt but you could tell from the tone of his voice he didn’t care.

‘She’s got something going on with someone at work and if you ruin it I’ll kill you’ you threatened but he just held his hands up in mock surrender. ‘Who else is gonna be there?’

‘Oh the usual’ he told you. Reeling off some names you knew plus a few guys you don’t know and you knew what that meant. Mason wanted to try and set you up with someone he knew and even though you appreciate the sentiment you couldn’t think of anything worse.

At this point you thought he just felt sorry for you and was trying his hardest to find you anyone. You’d never had a boyfriend, never been in a real relationship or even been on that many dates. Any you did happen to go on always ended in the same way with that same awful message. I see you more as a friend than a girlfriend but I’d love to stay in touch and you didn’t know what was wrong with you. Even though Mason sometimes tried to help, you didn’t want to attract boys like him and his friends so any new boy he was suggesting you almost always never gave a proper chance.

‘I was thinking maybe I could put some feelers out? You know put a good word in with a few of the lads and see if any are interested-‘

‘I’d rather eat my own eyeballs than date one of your friends’ you told him, looking up to his horrified face and just like usual you kept poking the bear. ‘I only hang out with you cause you’re practically my brother, but the ones that choose to be your friends? I have serious questions for them’

‘And yet here you are, spending your morning with me. The main culprit’

‘Not for much longer, I’m meeting the guys at level up for lunch’ you smiled and he rolled his eyes in annoyance at you.

‘So you used me for my flour and eggs, that’s what I’m getting from this’

‘I wouldn’t even be here if you could just keep it in your pants for five seconds’ you reminded him, giving Ace a quick scratch between the ears before you stood up so you could get going but Mason being Mason had to get a few more digs in.

‘Oh whatever you big dork. Go play with your silly little puzzles then while I fend for myself’

Level Up was a gaming cafe in town and you met up with some friends from uni once a month to catch up and play some games but you mostly went there for the puzzles. There was something you loved about starting with a big pile of nothing and ending with something beautiful. It calmed you but almost made your brain feel alive at the same time so it was worth the teasing from Mason's end even if he did think it made you really uncool.

‘Whatever, Mase’ you mumbled, gathering your stuff up and making your way to the door before he could say anything else to upset you but you already felt like he’d ruined your day.

You managed to forget about him by the time you’d made it to Level Up. Catching up with your friends from uni, forgetting all that had happened that morning and getting lost in what you loved before making your way back home in the early afternoon. Feeling a lot better about yourself than you had that morning.

Your week at work flew by and soon enough it was Friday and you were at your flat with Olivia getting ready for your night out. Thankfully she’s said yes to coming and it had given you something to bond over that week. She too had moved to Manchester from down south after uni and was finding the transition a bit strange so you’d taken her under your wing in hopes you could make some more friends around here besides Mason. As much as you loved him you couldn’t stand to be around him for long periods of time anymore and wanted someone else to hang out with who didn’t make you feel so awful about yourself.

Once the pair of you were ready you set out for a cocktail bar first. Getting a few fancy pre drinks in whilst you chatted over some office gossip and just as you were leaving you posted a few stories to instagram. Seeing straight away that Mason had viewed them and almost as if by magic he was calling you.

‘Is that really what you’re wearing?’ He asked, the question making your heart drop as you looked down at your out outfit. Admittedly it was your usual but you wanted to be a bit comfortable and it was an outfit you’d always felt good in. His comments deflating you immediately and you felt like turning around and going home.

‘What’s wrong with it?’ You asked in a small voice. Wrapping your jacket around you a little bit further and Olivia looked at you with curious eyes but you just gave her a reassuring smile and carried on listening to Mason.

‘I mean it’s fine but like… well that’s it. It’s fine’ he admitted causing you to gulp back the frog in your throat so you didn’t burst into tears. ‘Look I’m trying my hardest here to help you get some but you need to start showing a bit of skin. Like if I’m interested in a girl I wanna see a bit more yeah? You need to advertise what you’ve got on offer or you’ll never get any business.’

‘I’m not looking for business and I certainly don’t want to look like someone you’re interested in’ you hit back, trying to make him hurt a little bit but you knew it was useless. Your comments were like water off a ducks back to him. ‘When I find the right guy he’ll love how I dress’

‘I’m a guy, y/n. We’re all the same’

‘Yeah well I’ve just about had enough of you tonight. I think I’d rather join a nunnery at this point’ you huffed, feeling Olivia tug on your arm as you made it to the door of the club. ‘Were just outside I’ll see you in a sec’

‘Your names on the door, they should just let you through’ he confirmed and once you’d said goodbye you were let in by the doorman who led you over to your section. meeting Mason's eyes almost immediately but his were soon on Olivia and you knew it was about to be a long night. ‘You gonna introduce me then?’

‘Hi to you too’ you quipped, watching him roll his eyes as he pulled you into his side for a quick hug but it was over before you knew it as his eyes settled on Olivia’s legs. ‘Mason this is Olivia, Olivia this is Mason’

‘Hi Olivia, y/n’s told me a lot about you’ he smiled and you knew that smile anywhere. He was about to flirt his little bum off even after you’d told him not too. ‘It's nice to finally meet you’

‘You too, thanks for letting me come’ she smiled sweetly, trying to be polite but you’d already warned her about Mason and his antics and you were hoping she could see right through him.

‘Oh you’re invited anytime’ he winked. ‘Can I get you a drink?’

‘Oh um… yeah sure, y/n-‘

‘’It’s alright I know her order off by heart’ he winked before nodding her over to the bar where she followed him after giving you a quick wave.

You took this time to go and say happy birthday to Woody, one of Mason's friends you actually liked as he’d been around almost as long as you had but just like you had fallen into the trap of letting him get away with things he probably shouldn’t.

‘What’s wrong?’ He asked, noticing your disgruntled expression fairly quickly but you just sighed before rubbing your head.

‘I explicitly told Mason not to flirt with her but he’s all over her, I can't stand that boy sometimes’ you huffed, motioning over to where he was standing with Olivia. His hand on her back and his eyes on her chest and you heard Woody sigh next to you.

‘You know what he’s like, sees a pair of boobs and forgets all logic’ he tried to joke but you weren’t in the mood.

You could see Olivia looking for you, your eyes meeting after a few seconds where she gave you the ‘help me’ look and you made your way straight over to get her. Gripping Mason's shoulder as you popped yourself in between them and even though you weren’t looking at him you could feel the annoyance radiating off of him.

‘Thanks for the drink Mase, we’re gonna go have a dance’ you interrupted, not missing the way he rolled his eyes at you as he tried to speak again but you’d already pulled Olivia away and onto the dance floor where you were both giggling as you got lost in the crowd.

‘Corr he’s a right flirt, you weren’t joking we’re you’

‘Honestly he should come with a warning label’ you groaned. ‘I’m really sorry, I did tell him to keep it in his pants’

‘Don’t worry about it, it’s quite flattering’ she giggled before wrapping an arm around your shoulders. ‘Let’s just keep it between us, by the looks of things he’s already moved on’ she told you and once you looked around you could see him chatting up some other girl and you decided to leave him to it. Rolling your eyes before you and Olivia got lost in the crowd and danced your little socks off.

When Olivia needed the loo, you let her know you’d go and get the pair of you some more drinks and once at the bar you were ambushed by the man you’d been trying to avoid for the last hour.

‘Thanks for that earlier, you jumped in at the wrong time just as usual’ Mason exclaimed but you just turned to smile at him sweetly and the action caught him off guard.

‘No thank you, for completely ignoring me when I asked you not to flirt with her as she’s seeing someone and I didn’t want to make things awkward at work’ you reminded him but you noticed how he shut his eyes before looking back at you with a smirk and you knew he was about to get nasty.

‘So let me get this straight, Olivia’s been working with you for what, three weeks?’ He commented and his comment surprised you as you didn’t think he’d been listening to you that well whenever you spoke about her but clearly he had.

‘Just about, yeah’

‘And she’s already seeing someone?’

‘I mean it’s not official but-‘

‘So she can find someone… but you’ve been there years and-‘

‘Oh get fucked Mase’ you spat, your blood boiling at what he was trying to say and you had to restrain yourself from throwing the drinks that had just been placed infront of you in his face. Mason had just put them on his tab though and you didn’t want to have to pay for your own so you just balled your fists up and tried to let it wash over you. ‘Are you getting a kick out of being an arsehole to me tonight or something?’

‘I’m just pointing out-‘

‘Well don’t, keep your big nose out of my business’ you told him, cutting him off mid sentence but you knew your comments hadn’t hurt him. Nothing ever did.

‘Low blow, y/n. Low blow. You’re lucky I’m not self conscious about it as I know it comes in handy’ he teased. Licking his lips to insinuate something sexual and you felt the disgust roll through you. ‘Come on, let’s go sit. We’ve barely spoken all night’

‘No, I don’t want to’

‘Hey, don’t be like that’ he frowned, but you were done talking to him tonight and you’d have been quite happy to have a few days' break from him after tonight’s interactions.

‘I’m not being like anything’ you huffed, seeing Olivia coming back out from the loo and you used this as your opportunity to get away from him. ‘Olivia’s back, I need to go’ you told him but you didn’t wait for a reaction. Picking up your drinks and making your way over to her but you weren’t in the mood to be happy anymore.

You found a quiet corner with Olivia so you could sit and bitch for a bit, mostly about Mason but you moved onto the topic of people you didn’t like at work until she opened up about Joe from the IT department who she’d got the eyes for. Apparently they’d hit it off from the first day when he handed her her laptop and she’d been falling for him ever since. Sometimes making up issues and submitting tickets for non-existent problems so they could talk and even though you thought it was cute and you were happy for her, Mason's words from before were playing in your mind.

Why did things like this never happen to you? Why could everyone else find someone but you were forever stuck on the sidelines waiting to be picked. You were used to it now and you told yourself you were over it but there were moments like now when it stung and you didn’t want to think about anything anymore.

If truth be told you didn’t want to even be in this club anymore and when Olivia had to make a call you used the time to your advantage to try and find Mason to let him know you were going. Not that it would have made much difference to him as you’d barely spoken all night but when you made your way back to your section you knew something was off.

‘What’s everyone laughing at?’ You asked as you approached Woody and a few of the other boys. Woody's appearing awkward but you could see all the other boys were loving whatever was happening. ‘Where’s Mason?’

‘Trust me, you don’t wanna know’ one of the guys laughed but you were just confused as to what was happening.

‘What?’ You asked, turning towards Woody in hopes he’d give you a bit more of an answer but you could tell he didn’t want to. An embarrassed and guilty look on his face as you raised your brows at him until he eventually spoke.

‘He’s um, he’s in the loo’ Woody gulped but you didn’t understand what the issue was.

‘Okay?’

‘He’s not alone in there’ he whispered and the realisation hit you like a truck.

‘You’re joking? Please tell me you’re joking’ you whispered back, eyes flying around the room to see if anyone else had caught on but thankfully it was just his little gaggle of yes men that were in on it.

‘Well he didn’t exactly hide it’ Woody told you but before you could say anything else there was movement from the corner of your eye and you could see he was emerging from the disabled loo with a stupid smirk on his face and you felt sick to your stomach.

The boys were laughing louder immediately but all you felt was embarrassment. Embarrassed that he was your friend and he thought this was okay, embarrassed for whatever poor girl he’d taken in there and embarrassed that clearly everyone knew what was going on and he was just fine with it.

You watched him talk to security before coming back over to your section. The boys slapping his back before he tried to wrap an arm around your shoulder but you just shrugged him off as soon as he touched you. Not even bothering to look up at his disgruntled face as your eyes were trained on the where he’d just come from and before long the girl emerged.

You watched her walk over to the man Mason had just spoken to, Mason clearly telling her he’d put her name in the list for your section but you doubt he even knew her name in the first place and you felt awful as she looked around for Mason to let her in. You were on the edge of marching over there yourself and telling them to let her through but you didn’t want to cause more of a scene so you just turned to Mason who was looking at you with an amused grin.

‘Seriously, Mason? I know you clearly don’t give a shit but that’s such an awful thing to do’

‘Oh stop getting your knickers in a twist, it’s not like I fucked her’ he told you matter of factly an you gasped at the way he’d just spoken to you.

‘What?’

‘I mean I’ll spare you the details but let’s just say she took very good care of me’

‘Oh fuck off, I don’t wanna know that’ you told him, wrapping your arms around yourself as if you were trying to block him out but he kept laughing at you like he found the whole thing hilarious.

‘Oh y/n don’t be such a grump’ he laughed. ‘Maybe you should think about getting yourself a bit, hopefully they might be able to pull that stick out your arse’

Mason words cut you deep, and you knew he’d only said it as he was playing on your biggest insecurity but that made it worse somehow. You’d opened up to Mason a few times about how unlucky in love you felt you were, how you never seemed to grab anyone’s attention. You knew he tried to help on nights out sometimes but nothing ever worked and you weren’t as on board with one night stands as Mason so clearly was. You were the definition of a wallflower and as much as you knew you had a lot of love to give the right person you grew more worried day by day that it would never be a reality for you.

You knew your face had dropped, Mason’s too once he’d realised what he’d said and that he’d taken it too far but you refused to show how upset you were, not just by what he’d said but everything that had happened tonight.

‘You’re a right dick sometimes’ you told him quietly, picking your bag up and storming out. You could hear the faint sound of him scoffing behind you but you didn’t have the energy to turn around and berate him anymore. Your eyes already stinging and the sadness rippled over you but you held it together so you could get out the door and sort yourself an Uber out.

You wondered if he might have followed you outside to come and apologise right away but you knew that would never happen. As long as Mason was happy in Mason land he didn’t care what he did or said to anyone else and even though you thought you might have been the exception, that clearly wasn’t the case anymore.

‘Y/n? What are you doing out here?’ You heard, Turing to see Olivia walking over to you with a concerned expression but you just blinked the tears away and gave her a half hearted smile.

‘Just getting some air’ you smiled. ‘Listen, I’m so sorry about tonight. I didn’t realise he was gonna be such an arse’ you apologised but you could see from her face it was all fine and she didn't care.

‘It’s not your fault, yeah? You’re not responsible for him’ she told you and you felt lighter at her words until she gave you a look you couldn't quite place. ‘But please don’t hate me, I’ve just been on the phone to Joe and he’s invited me over. You don’t mind if I go, do you?’ She asked and even though it stung slightly you couldn't blame her. Not when you were on your way home too now.

‘Of course not, don't be silly’ you reassured her, thinking that might be the end of it but the sympathetic smile she gave you made you feel worse somehow.

‘Are you going back in?’

‘I think I might just head home, I’ve had enough of him tonight’ you joked but she knew she could tell there was an air of truth behind it.

‘Don’t let him ruin your night, why don’t you come with me?’ She offered but you just looked back at her in confusion.

‘What? To hang out with you and Joe? I don’t think he’ll be too happy with that’

‘Oh no he’s at a party at his friends house not too far from here, there’s a load of people there and a few from work so you’ll know a load of them’ she explained and the idea of it being more than just the two of them sweetened the deal a bit.

‘I don’t know’

‘Pleeeeeeease. Don’t let that horrible boy upset you, plus I’m not done hanging out with you yet. Mason aside I’ve had fun tonight’ she pouted and you felt your resolve slipping. ‘Come on, I’ll pay for the Uber and everything’

‘Okay fine’ you laughed. Jumping into the car with her when it turned up and you were only ten minutes into being there once you realised what a good choice you’d made. You never hung out with your colleagues outside of work but you had a lot of fun and even made some new friends. The whole experience teaching you that there was more to life than Mason and you made a promise to yourself to take a step back from him for your own sake.

You made it home at around 3am in a taxi with a friend of Joes who’d promised to get you home safely. You’d been talking for most of the night and it was a complete 180 from being with Mason. He made you feel important and heard and when he kissed you cheek at your front door you felt your knees wobble. You blamed it on the drink and being so touch starved but once your were inside you realised how much of a good time you’d had without Mason once more.

The constant fear of what he was going to say or do next, the need to clean up his mess that inevitably always came and the growing embarrassment that came from being around him was getting you down. All you could think about was a break from him and If truth be told you needed a break from everything at this point so made a mental note to book some time off of work for a little break now the weather was getting nicer to go and see your auntie in Spain as a little something to look forward too.

You’d seen Mason had text you a few hours ago. Wondering where you’d gone and to text him back but you left it. Not wanting to talk to him right now so you got undressed and got into bed so you could wait for the inevitable hangover in the morning.

It was 8am when you woke up and knew your phone was going off every few minutes but you ignored it, not in the mood for whoever it was and when you hadn’t received a text for a while you had a quick Look I see they were all from Mason.

You didn’t believe his empty threats, ignoring everything he’d written and rolling over onto your other side so you could get back to sleep and thankfully it came easily as you were still so exhausted. He could work things out for himself for one morning surely?

You were expecting your head to be pounding when you next woke up, but you’d never felt it like this before. Never heard it in your ears so intensely or heard your name being called over and over until you realised it wasn’t what you thought and when you recognised Mason's voice you groaned into your pillow.

‘Y/n! Are you in there?’ You heard him call. Hoping you could just ignore him and he’d go away but Mason being Mason didn’t let up. ‘Right I’ve not heard or seen you since last night, I don’t know where you are or what you’re doing so I’m calling the police’

‘Oh fuck off’ you huffed, storming out of bed in just your underwear and a tiny T-shirt so you could tell him off, watching Masons head snap up when you opened the door and you didn’t miss the way his eyes trailed all over you.

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ You spat, pulling him inside and slamming the door shut before turning to face him with a furious glare. He was looking straight back at you the same way though and you’d never seen him so mad in all the years you’d known him.

‘Are you kidding me? What the fuck are you doing? Why are you ignoring me?’

‘Are you being serious right now?

‘Completely. And can you go and get dressed you freaking me out’ he remarked but you just placed your hands on your hips and made him look at you.

‘No I can’t’ you told him and you knew he wasn't comfortable with you standing there in next to nothing so you used it to your advantage. ‘You were awful to me last night Mason, I mean you’ve not been nice for a while but last night tipped me over the edge’

‘What did I do?’

‘What didn’t you do!’ You exploded, seeing him visibly jump as he wasn’t expecting it but you just kept going, releasing all the pent up aggression and anger he’d made you feel lately and you could feel the tears stinging behind your eyes. ‘You’re so rude about me, about the way I dress and just how I am. I told you specifically not to go near Olivia and you did. Not to mention that poor girl you used in the toilet, I take it she wasn’t the same girl you took home last?’

‘Well no but-‘

‘I just, I don’t like what you’re turning into and I’m not gonna sit by and watch it happen anymore so if you still want me around you need to fix up and fix up fast’

‘You can’t tell me what to do’ he scoffed, the playfulness he usually spoke at you with now completely vanished and you had a feeling deep in your tummy that this wasn’t going to end well yet you carried on.

‘Well if you carry on like this then I’m out Mason. I don’t wanna surround myself with you and the people you hang out with anymore’

‘Oh you thought… oh that’s hilarious’ he laughed, clutching his tummy like you’d just told him the funniest joke in the world. ‘You actually think I care if you don't wanna talk to me anymore? That I’d care if I upset you? You really think telling me that is gonna make me change? Get real y/n, we’re not 13 anymore’

‘What?’ you breathed, his words feeling like a punch in the gut as he stared down at you and as much as you were trying to be the bigger person in this and make him see how awful he was being, you felt awfully small.

‘Well let’s face it, it’s not like we’re even from the same universe at this point and everything I do you take the wrong way’ he told you and you could feel yourself shrinking as he turned the tables. Bracing yourself to feel his full wrath as you knew he didn’t like being told off ‘You’re so uptight, y/n and is it any wonder why?’

‘You don’t have to get so personal all the time’

‘But you’re allowed to? You’re allowed to have a go at me cause I fuck around a bit and actually enjoy my life rather than play kids games and and make out I’m holier than thou? Just cause no one’s ever found you attractive doesn’t mean anyone else isn’t allowed any fun’

You never thought he could be this mean. His words from last night paled into comparison from what he was saying now and you unconsciously wrapped your arms around yourself as he tore you to shreds.

‘You know I tried to be a good friend, I tried my hardest to find you someone but you throw it back in my face everytime. Not that I think it would have mattered anyway cause they all tell me you’re too stuck up for your own good. No ones ever gonna want you y/n, cause you make it fucking impossible’

‘I've never been good enough for you have I?’ You whispered, watching the muscle in his jaw flex as a single tear rolled down your cheek, but his face remained hard as you tried to let him know how you felt no matter how heartbroken you were. ‘You know I always thought it was a bit of fun and teasing, you calling me a nerd or whatever but actually don’t like me, do you? But I’m good enough when you need me, I’m good enough to come over and kick out whatever girl you need kicking out. Good enough to cook for you and get you everything you need’ ’

‘Oh fuck off, y/n’ he spat, looking away from you and trying to make his way to the door. ‘You think I need you that much? Have a laugh, I only kept you around cause you came in handy sometimes’ he laughed, trying his hardest to hurt you and even though it was working you could see in his eyes he didn’t mean it. ‘People leave me all the time, why should I give a shit if you do too?’

‘Mase-‘

‘Nah it’s fine, I’ll go. Sorry for giving a shit about you, I know not to do that again. Don’t worry I won’t be back’

You knew exactly what he was doing. He was being defensive because you were upset with him and he wanted to make you feel bad too. You knew he could be mean but never like this and when he slammed your door in your face you stood there for a few moments just taking it all in. Replaying all the awful things he’d said to you before walking like a zombie back to bed and hiding under the covers so you could let a few tears out but not many came. Too in shock at hurt about what he’d said to form any real emotions but as the days went on you felt worse and worse about yourself.

Three weeks went by and you didn’t hear a peep from him. Wondering if maybe you should message him first but after a day you realised he was the one that messed up and you didn’t want to be running after him. He’d completely disappeared from online and you’d even had a cheeky look on some of his update accounts to see if he’d been spotted anywhere but it was just the usual training pictures and nothing more.

It was difficult, getting angrier as the days went by before sadness took its place. He was your best friend and had been for years but you hated everything he’d become and you weren't about to push your boundaries to accommodate him anymore. Not after all the awful things he’d said to you either that wouldn’t stop plaguing your mind.

You’d never felt as ugly as you did right now. His words had hit home as it was things you’d always thought about yourself but to hear them actually vocalised from the person who you thought you meant a lot to stung in a way nothing else ever had. Realising maybe you would be on your own for a long time as there clearly was something wrong with you and as the days passed the harder you cried.

Cried for the friendship you once had, cried for the words he’d spat in your face and cried for how awful you felt about yourself and how lonely you were night after night as you rarely spoke to anyone in fear of your emotions taking over now.

You tried to let it go, carrying on as normal but you could tell Olivia knew something was up. Letting you know she was there for you when you needed but for now you just wanted to wallow a little.

You were sat at home getting lost in a new true crime documentary when you felt your phone ring. Glancing down to see Mason's picture filling up your screen and you instantly froze. Too panicked to answer as you didn’t know what you’d say to him right now so you just stared down at the screen until the call ended. Anxious to see if he would call you back at all but he didn’t and you presumed it was a mistake until the next day when a text came through from him on your lunch break.

What did he want?

You presumed it was to apologise but at this point you didn’t want to hear it. He’d done and said enough and you were still getting over most of it so to have him back in your life seemed counter intuitive.

So you left him on read and forgot about him. Spending your lunch break with Olivia and Joe but by the time you were back at your desk he was all you could think about. His text had left a weird feeling in your tummy and you felt a little bad about knowing he wanted to presumably apologise but you wouldn't let him but what you’d said was true. You really weren’t ready just yet.

Sandra was a person you considered your work mum. A slightly older woman who worked on reception and was the smiling face that always greeted you every morning but she was also the woman you went to for advice and to have a moan to. She’s never judged you or told you what to do but it was nice getting an opinion from someone so wise so knowing you were going to see her filled you with a calmness you hadn’t felt in a while.

‘They’ve not got your favourite left, but I got you a kitkat’ you smiled as you approached the reception desk, noticing Sandra was looking back at you with an awkward smile that confused you until you looked to your left and were met with the brown eyed boy you’d been avoiding. ‘Mason? How did you even get in here?’

‘I let him in’ Sandra smiled, looking over at Mason with a wink and you could see him send her an appreciative smile as he made his way closer to you. Only then clicking the giant bunch of pink and white tulips in his arms and your chest felt tight at the sight of them.

‘You shouldn’t have done that’ you told her lowly, hoping he wouldn’t be able to hear but Sandra had other ideas and brought him into the conversation.

‘Oh come on y/n, how can you say no to that face’ she pouted, tilting her head over to him and once you looked back at Mason his usual cheeky smile adorned his lips as he playfully batted his eyelashes at you. ‘You need to talk to him anyway’

‘No I don’t, what’s he told you?’ you argued back. You purposefully hadn't told Sandra anything about what was going on with Mason as you were embarrassed and wanted to deal with it on your own but you should have known she’d find out eventually. Mothers always do.

‘That you won’t talk to him and that he wants to tell you how sorry he is’

‘Well he can tell me that himself’ you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest before you heard him not so subtly coughing. Looking up to find him glancing between the pair of you like he was reminding you he was still there.

‘I would if you gave me a chance’ he laughed before shyly nodding over to the sofa where guests usually waited. Silently asking you to come with him so you could talk a bit more privately and you reluctantly walked over after a beat. Watching Mason pluck a flower from the bouquet in his arms to give to Sandra as a thank you and you almost cracked a smile at how she blushed when she took it. The pair of them whispering a little before he turned to face you and he walked over like a naughty school boy.

‘Do we have to do this now?’ You asked. Not wanting to have this conversation with him here and now but since you’d been avoiding him you hadn’t given him many other options and you could tell from the way he was looking at you he was determined to speak with you.

‘Yes, we do. You’re ignoring me and left me no choice’

‘Can you just be quick?’ You asked, not wanting to air your dirty laundry in the reception where Sandra could quite easily hear everything and even though you felt bad he’d put the effort in to come and see you, you were practically turning him away.

‘Y/n-

‘Please, Mase. I’m at work’

‘Fine, I’ll go’ he huffed and the heartbroken look on his face made your tummy churn. ‘Only if you agree I can come over later and apologise properly’ he told you but you didn’t agree straight away and you could see he was getting desperate. ‘Y/n please’

‘Okay fine’ you sighed, nodding your head as you knew it would have to be done sooner or later and since he was making the effort you thought you should cut him some slack. His face softened immediately before his eyes fell to the flowers in his hands that he passed to you in with a shy smile

‘These are for you, your favourite’

‘Thank you’ you whispered, taking them carefully and you knew your face was turning red as you held them to your chest. This was the first bunch of flowers anyone had ever bought you and you could feel your eyes welling up at the fact he’d remembered your favourite ones.

‘Well it’s the least you deserve’ he nodded but you didn’t know what to say to him, standing there awkwardly until he coughed. ‘What time will you be home?’

‘Around six’

‘Okay well, maybe I could bring us some food over and we’ll talk’

‘Okay’ you whispered, nodding gently before looking down as you were so overwhelmed with emotions.

He didn’t say anything after that, just touched your arm and planted a quick kiss on your forehead before walking back over to Sandra so he could sign out of the visors book. His action confused you as he never showed you signs of affection aside from the occasional hug so the kiss only made you blush even more. Giving yourself a few seconds to calm down before eventually joining them at the desk.

‘Leaving so soon? Sandra pouted as Mason approached her and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the way she was so clearly wrapped around his finger already.

‘Yeah, this one wants me gone’ he teased, signing his name in the box but Sandra just threw you a disappointed look and you felt awful instantly.

‘Oh y/n’ she tutted before looking back at Mason with doe eyes. ‘If it were up to me I’d let you stay’

‘And that’s why you're my number one girl’ he told her. Flashing her his killer smile and sending her wink before turning back to you. ‘I’ll see you later, okay?’

You didn’t answer, just nodded before he left with a sad smile and as soon as he was out the door you felt Sandra’s eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

‘I tell you what, if I was 30 years younger that boy would be in serious trouble’ she told you, fanning herself with a sheet of paper from her notebook and you felt your resolve crack instantly.

‘God sake Sandra’ you laughed. It was clear that Mason was a hit with the ladies but you didn’t know he’d have this hold over someone like Sandra.

‘What’s he done? Is it really that bad or are you just making him sweat?’ She asked casually, the need to spill your guts to her was as overwhelming as ever but something was telling you to keep it under wraps until things with him were sorted so you didn’t say anything you might regret.

‘He’s not been the best for a while but we had a massive argument a few weeks back after he pushed everything a bit too far so we’ve not spoken in a while’

‘I’d just kiss and make up if I were you, he’s too pretty to be mad at’ she teased and you knew you were blushing again. This time out of sheer awkwardness.

‘It’s not like that, Sandra. He’s my best friend, nothing more, okay? No kissing or whatever else you think might be going on’

‘I’m not sure about that’ she mused ‘He doesn’t look at you like a friend’

‘That’s cause he’s trying to get on my good side probably’

‘Hmmm, we’ll see’ she winked but you didn’t want to listen anymore. Quickly making your way back to your desk so she couldn’t try and marry you off to your best friend but you could feel everyone’s eyes on you as you walked through with your flowers. Even Olivia sent you a curious look but you motioned that you’d text her later to explain.

You couldn’t focus for the rest of the afternoon. Mason's flowers that were sitting on your desk were a constant reminder that you’d have to see him later and you weren’t sure if you were ready to forgive him yet, if ever. Everything he’d said to you and the way he’d made you feel was still fresh in your mind and you knew they would take a while to recover from.

You were sick and tired of forgiving him for the cycle to start over again but you couldn’t deny you missed him. Yes things had gotten way out of control but you missed your movie nights and catch ups. You even missed making breakfast together after you’d kicked another girl out for him but you knew it all had to stop. He was a man now and able to look after himself and that’s what you wanted to tell him.

You weren’t expecting him to be on time, he never usually was, but at quarter past six there was a knock on your door. He was earlier than you thought he’d be and when you answered he stood there looking as guilty as ever with a few pizza boxes in his hands and you sent him a small smile before nodding him in.

‘Come in, you whispered, walking him into your living room so he could set the pizza down on the coffee table and take a seat but the only choice you had was to sit next to him as you could only fit a small sofa in here. Your flat wasn’t the biggest in the world and Mason always told you he’d pay for you to live somewhere nicer but it was time like these you were glad he didn’t. Not knowing what might happen if things went up in smoke.

‘Can I talk first? I’ve just been thinking about what I wanna say for days and I don’t wanna mess it up’ he asked you but you just nodded. Not sure what you wanted to say yourself yet so you figured you’d sit and listen to what he wanted to say first.

‘That’s fine’ you whispered, watching him get settled in his seat before launching into his monologue.

‘Okay well, I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am for everything’ he gulped ‘I know I’ve been the biggest dick and I’ve hurt you but I really am sorry and I’m gonna prove it to you if you’ll let me’ he confirmed and you felt his words swimming through your veins. Never once had you heard him like before let alone hear the words I’m sorry come out of his mouth and look like he meant it.

‘Last time I saw you, when I went off on one, I was just hurt that you’d called me out and I wanted to get you back for it. I know that’s childish and stupid but you hit home with everything you said and I couldn’t take it’ he told you. Clasping his hands together as some form of distraction as he spoke and you knew he was trying his best to hold it together.

‘You’ve always been there for me, you know? You’ve always done things for me that you shouldn’t have and you’ve stuck up for me when you didn’t need to but I’ve surrounded myself with the complete wrong people who don’t care about me. They’re looking for a good time and never tell me no so I thought it was great, but not having you around has just made me realise they’re not the sort of people I need in my life, yeah? You’re what I need’

His strangled voice was pulling at your heartstrings but no matter what he was saying you didn’t want to jump right in and accept his apology. There was so much you wanted to say and that you needed him to know about how he’d treated you. You could see he was sorry and it was evident that he was hurt but if you didn’t want to let him off easy, you wanted him to understand exactly how you were feeling and leave nothing unsaid so you could move away from it and hopefully move on.

‘Please say something’ he gulped, wanting to hear something from you straight away but you knew as soon as you started you wouldn't be able to stop.

‘Thank you for apologising, it really does mean a lot to me that you came here but i'm really hurt Mase and I’m not really sure what to say’ you told him. Your voice sounding thick no matter how hard you tried to hold the tears in and you watched the heartbreak on his face as he saw you get upset.

‘It just sucked, I guess. To feel like you only ever called me when you needed me, like to get rid of someone or if I fit into your plans. Just felt like you didn’t give a damn about me ever. I’ve never said anything or judged you about the way you acted, not until recently at least, cause we’re friends but maybe I should have. Like just told you no a couple of times but I just felt so small to you and that it wouldn’t make a difference’

You could tell he wanted to speak, to let you know that it was all untrue and that he cared about you more than anything but he didn’t butt in. He let you speak and gave you your time to get everything out you needed to and it was more therapeutic than you thought it would be.

‘You know I remember the last time I knew I couldn’t count on you anymore. It was my last year at uni and I had an evening class so I could present my final project but all the trains were messed up and I had to walk there in the end through the rain’ you sniffed and when you looked at him you knew he knew what night you were talking about. ‘It took me just under an hour and I was late in the end so I got docked points and had to make it up with some extra credit but I called you. I called you and you said you were sorry but you were stuck in an important meeting and you couldn’t get out of it’ you hiccuped and it’s like he didn’t want to hear any more. His hands covering his eyes as he shook his head from side to side but you kept going. ‘But then when I got home and I just wanted someone to talk to and rant to there were pictures of you plastered online with some random girl in your lap and I knew you’d lied to me’

‘I’m sorry’ he blubbed, looking up at you with red eyes and a wobbly bottom lip but even that didn’t stop you from carrying on. The words pouring out from your mouth like a waterfall as years of hurt made their way to the surface.

‘You made me feel so worthless when I’ve stuck around since day dot. You always spout about his family is everything to you but I thought that included me? And I felt like I never meant a thing’

‘You did- you do. You mean everything to me I swear. Please please don’t say that it kills me’ he sobbed before finally reaching for you. Pulling you into his body and you let yourself hide in his neck as the tears fell from your eyes. ‘I was a dick for no reason and you’re the last person I should have taken anything out on. You’re right, I was disgusting and I didn’t care about anyone else and you were the first person I actually cared about who told me no and I couldn't take it’

‘You really hurt me’

‘I know I did and I can't tell you how sorry I am’ he cried. ‘I know I’m not easy to be around or easy to keep up with but you’ve always been there and I took you for granted. I honestly didn’t see what I was doing wrong cause no one ever told me, like everyone just let me do what I wanted but I get it now, I really do. I was just so caught up in having a good time and not thinking about the consequences so I took things too far. I know I’m probably out of second chances but I need to ask again cause I can’t lose you’

Your silence was deafening for him and you knew he wanted some sort of answer from you. Eventually sitting up and making you look at him and even though he looked panicked his voice was calm as he carried on speaking.

‘I’m a fuck up okay? I know I am and I know the last thing you probably want or need is me coming back into your life to cause you more stress again but this massive fuck up has misssd you so so much’

You couldn’t stop the little chuckle that fell from your lips. The sound making him smile too before he took your hands in his.

‘I’m sorry for embarrassing you, I’m sorry for all the lies I’ve told and all the horrible shit I’ve said about you and I’m sorry for the constant 8am wakeup calls on a Saturday cause I can’t control myself. I know how to behave and I know what I need to do so I’ll just do it yeah? No more calling you up to kick girls out for me cause they won’t be there in the first place. You need me and I’ll do whatever I can to get there for you and do exactly what you do for me everyday. These few weeks without you have been awful and I’m sorry it took us getting to this point to make me see but I’d rather get rid of everyone in my circle if it meant I got to keep you’ he confirmed as he squeezed your hands a bit tighter. ‘What do you say, huh? Do you think we could work something out?’

‘I mean, you’re right. It probably is the last thing I need’ you started, watching his head sink as his eyes fell to his lap but you just considered it a tiny bit of payback for now. ‘But I can’t lie and say that I haven’t missed you too,’ you told him. Voice wobbling at the end as your emotions took over and you could see he was also finding it hard to take. ‘But I miss the old Mason, I miss my friend’

‘I’m still here I promise. Just give me a chance and I’ll show you I’m still in here’

‘Please don’t make me regret it’ you whispered but you didn’t have a chance to say anything else. Mason bundling you into his arms and the feeling of his arms around you settled you more than anything else had and when he pulled back to smile at you, you felt your heart flutter in your chest. ‘Just because you’ve apologised doesn’t mean things can go back to the way they were. I might need some time’

‘I know, I don’t want that either. I’m gonna prove to you how much I’ve changed and we’ll go at your pace. I just needed to apologise and that’s whether you accepted it or not, but I really would love it if you did’

‘I do’ you told him, your face crumpling once again but he was quick to wrap you up and comfort you once again.

Over the next few weeks he was an angel, giving you the space you needed but also checking in when he could. Things felt normal but so different at the same time and the relief of having your friend back was overwhelming. It was two weeks later when you next saw him in person though, Mason messaging you early Friday evening to see what you were up to the next day but you weren’t expecting his response.

The fact he was offering to drive was tempting. You hated lugging heavy bags on the train and the fact the prospect of food was involved was even more appealing but you hadn’t hung out like this in a long time even before your big fight. Mostly because he was always busy but also because you’d just silently grown apart in that way. Mason liked getting his own way and him doing things for other people didn’t fall into that category.

You had a lot to do and the last thing you needed was him getting bored and rushing you round before spending an afternoon with him trying to annoy you. You knew it was mean but you wanted to put him off a little bit so you could shop in peace but you didn’t want him to think you were still mad at him and didn’t want to hang out.

His message made your heart sink. He really was trying and you knew he wanted more opportunities to prove himself but before you could think about it anymore he was messaging you again to try and convince you even more and you couldn’t deny him this time.

When 9 rolled around the next morning he was there. Standing by his car as he opened the door for you after a quick hug and you promised yourself you’d try and be positive about today and give him a chance to prove himself if that’s what he really wanted.

‘You eaten?’ He asked as you got bucked in, knowing how hungry you got in the mornings but you always prioritised sleep over eating. You had a little bit of extra time today though so you nodded your head at him but didn’t miss how his face dropped slightly.

‘I had some toast’

‘Oh okay, I um… I picked you up one of those juices you like and a pastry but if you don’t want it that’s fine’ he mumbled, looking slightly embarrassed and you felt your heart race at how thoughtful he’d been.

‘Oh… oh no I’ll have it. You know what I’m like, always starving’ you laughed, accepting the little bag and juice he’d picked you up with a smile and you could see how shy he looked. An expression he didn’t usually wear and his soft smile made your heart flutter in your chest. ‘Thank you, Mase’

‘It’s okay’ he whispered, starting the car so he could look away from you and even though the drive was fairly silent with just the low sound of his music playing, you didn’t feel awkward.

‘You coming then?’ You asked as he finished parking, watching his smile light up his face knowing you weren’t going to leave him to sit in the car on his own before he nodded enthusiastically at you.

‘So this trip, is it the usual?’ He asked as you made your way into the main shopping centre and you knew he was referring to where you were going as you visited your auntie in Spain every year.

‘Yeah, it’s just for a few days this time but I really need the break’ you explained and he nodded at you knowingly.

You went to Boots first, Mason holding the basket for you as he followed behind and you filled it with everything you needed. You were about halfway round the shop when you realised something was different, Mason not questioning why you needed everything you put in the basket or making stupid jokes. If anything he was more than helpful, reaching the higher shelves for you and manoeuvring you around the busy aisles by your waist as he knew you hated the crowds.

When it came time to pay, he scanned everything for you while you packed the bag and when you were done he picked it up without any questions so you didn’t have to carry it.

Next on your list was clothes. Wanting to try a few different things on to your usual so you could mix it up a bit and when you had an armful of things to try you turned to Mason with a smile.

‘Will you come into the changing room with me?’

‘What?’ He choked, his eyes going wide immediately as the question sunk in but you just rolled your eyes as you tugged on his wrist.

‘Yeah I need your opinion and I can’t be bothered to keep walking out here every time. I’ll go to one of the family ones so my arse isn’t shoved in your face, don't worry’ you laughed, pushing him inside with you so he didn’t have a choice but you could see the awkwardness on his face. Eventually shifting his eyes to the floor until you bundled him into a cubicle and made him sit on the seat in the corner.

‘I um… what do I-i um’ he mumbled as he set the bags down and you couldn’t help but giggle at his awkwardness. A side of him you hadn’t seen in a while.

‘Oh come on, it’s not like you’ve never seen me in my underwear before’ you laughed thinking back to when you were growing up and to even more recent times like when he showed up at your door and on nights out when he had to put you to bed after one too many but you could see he wasn’t feeling a bit strange so you hung the dresses up on the rail and smiled at him reassuringly. ‘Shut your eyes until I tell you to open them, yeah?’

‘Okay’ he whispered. Shutting his eyes and covering them with his hands as you turned away and picked up the first dress.

It was nothing like you usually wore. Tight and short with a fully cut out back meaning you had to quickly take your bra off to try it on and the thought of wearing it outside these four walls terrified you but you were determined to push yourself out of your comfort zone.

‘You can open them now, what do you think?’ You asked him, watching his eyes adjust to the light for a second before an unreadable emotion took over his face.

‘Oh it’s um… it’s different’ he told you and you couldn't tell if he liked it or not.

‘Well I’ve been thinking about what you said and even though I was pissed at the time and you could have probably worded it nicer I think you were right’ you told him, hands brushing over the short skirt and even though you felt different in it you didn’t feel too uncomfortable. ‘I need to show a bit more skin, you know?’

‘Wait-‘

‘What do boys like more? Bum or boobs? Like what do I need to-‘

‘Wait, stop’ he interrupted, the tone of his voice making you stop in your tracks and turn to him and when he held his hand out to you, you took it carefully. Letting him pull you in between your legs slowly so he could talk to you better but when you felt his fingertips on the backs of your bare thighs your legs turned to jelly.

You didn’t know what it was, that weird feeling pulsating through you at just a simple touch from Mason of all people and the sensation made it feel like you couldn’t get your breath out properly. In the end you had to rest your hands on his chest so you didn’t crumple to the floor and it was like the atmosphere changed within a heartbeat.

His big brown eyes looked dark as he peered up at you through his lashes, the bridge of his nose a deep red and his pouty lips had parted slightly as he tried to control his breathing but it’s like you blinked and the moment was gone. His eyes moving to look at your shoulder now and you moved your hands away from his chest to cross them over your body.

‘Sit down, yeah?’ He whispered, nodding his head to his leg and you sat on his thigh as he caged you in his arms. His face serious as you wondered what he might be about to say to you and you could feel your cheeks getting warm as he looked at you in a way he never had before. ‘You don’t… you don’t need to change the way you look or dress, okay? I was a dick and I shouldn’t have said all that before. It was crap of me and it wasn’t true anyway’

‘But-‘

‘But nothing’ he whispered, cutting you off and you felt your eyes sting as he smiled sweetly at you. ‘You deserve the world, you know that? And you deserve a man who doesn’t care about how much skin you’ve got on show or what your body looks like in what you’ve got on. You want a man who cares about what’s going on in here’ he whispered, tapping your temple lightly before doing the same to the top of your chest. ‘And in here. And yeah it might be a wait but you’ll get there. You don’t have to sell yourself short to dickheads like me who don’t have what you need, okay?’

‘It just gets hard sometimes’ you sniffed, his words hitting you deep in your tummy and you couldn’t stop the tears spilling from your eyes before you felt him pulling you into his body for a cuddle. Your head nestled into his neck as you held onto him for dear life but the feel of his hand stroking up and down your back bare soothed you ever so slightly.

‘I know it does’

‘What’s wrong with me?’ You hiccuped, barely able to hold yourself together at this point but his gentle touches really were helping. You felt safe with him for the first time in a long time and you knew you could tell him anything and it wouldn’t matter. He’d listen and reassure you like best friends are supposed to.

‘Nothing, I promise. Absolutely nothing, you’re perfect okay’ he told you. Speaking the words directly into ear and he sounded so determined and sure of himself that the sound made you shiver. ‘You’re too perfect, maybe that’s the problem. It's dicks like me that have got something wrong with us yeah’ he laughed and you let out a little chuckle before pulling back so you could wipe your eyes. ‘Does everything you picked out look like that?’

‘Yeah’ you laughed, smiling as he caught the tears you missed.

‘Okay well let me go and look for you, I saw a few bits that are more you but just a bit different. You can try those on and see what you think, yeah?’

‘Okay’ you sniffed, not sure about this idea but you were willing to entertain him at this point and when he came back with a few bits you were actually surprised at how much you loved them. Still your style but just a little different and you couldn’t help but give Mason a massive hug at the end.

Once you’d paid, Mason offered to take all the bags back to the car whilst you popped into Primark for underwear and socks and once you were done you met him outside. Your tummy grumbling as it approached lunchtime and he let you pick wherever you wanted to go but you settled on Nando’s as you knew that’s secretly what he wanted and since he’d been good to you that morning you figured you’d be good to him.

You were back at his just after one, leaving your bags in the car but you noticed he’d taken in a white paper bag that you hadn’t seen him with all day and after the pair of you got yourselves a drink and settled on the sofa, he turned to you with a shy smile.

‘Hey, so I got you something’ he told you nervously, producing the white paper bag from earlier from the side of the sofa and you took it from him with a confused grin.

You didn’t ask what it was, just reached in to grab hold of the box and when you finally pulled it out you almost lost your breath. The brightly coloured picture of the northern lights making you smile immediately before you looked up to his nervous face.

‘I wanted to get you one we could maybe do together? I know it’s probably not as big or complicated as you’re used to but I thought we could start me off easy’ he laughed but you were too overcome with emotion to think of anything to say. Never in a million years did you think he’d want to do a puzzle with you let alone buy you one with a picture of the place you’d always wanted to visit the most on it.

‘Can we do it now?’ You asked excitedly. Knowing you had the whole afternoon together to finish it and when his face mirrored yours you felt like jumping up and down.

‘Of course’ he grinned. ‘I’ll clear the coffee table and we can do it there if that’s alright?’

‘That's perfect’ you nodded, hugging the box to your chest as you stood up before touching his arm gently so he’d look at you. ‘Do you mind if I borrow something to wear? I like to be comfy when I’m getting my puzzle on’ you laughed but he just smiled before motioning to follow you to his room. Picking you out a few things to choose from and you settled on a pair of his grey shorts and an oversized T-shirt of his before taking a hoodie down with you just in case you got cold.

Mason got changed too just after you before running into the kitchen to get you both some snacks and drinks whilst you cleared the table and soon enough you were tipping the contense of the box onto the table so you could get started.

‘Right what do we do?’ Mason questioned, the large pile of tiny pieces daunting him quite clearly but you just giggled as you took a seat opposite him.

‘Well I’ll tell you how I do it, so we need to find the corner pieces first, then the edges then we’ll sort the leftovers out by colour and go from there. That sound good?’

‘Okay’ he nodded and you gave him the task of the corners and edges whilst you organised the rest. Only realising then how much of a difficult one this one might be. He was right in saying it was less pieces than you were used to but the picture was complicated and once he’d got all his pieces sorted he looked at you with a confused smile.

‘You realise this is gonna be difficult? And we could be here for a while’ You told him, watching him gulp nervously before looking back at all the pieces.

‘Really? But it’s only 500 pieces. The ones you do are thousands’

‘Yeah but the picture here is complicated, it's just all random colours like there’s no buildings or anything to work from’

‘Oh, shit sorry’ he laughed before shrugging at you. ‘I just know you’ve always wanted to go so I thought you’d like it’

‘No don’t be sorry, I do like it. Love it, in fact. I just don’t want you to get bored or frustrated with it if it takes a while’

‘No it’s okay, I can do it’ he told you. The same determined look you’d seen in his eyes countless times before important games and finals and it made you smile that he was applying the same fight for this.

You let him put some background music on as you worked away. Talking lightly about some plans you both had coming up but it was difficult for Mason to multitask. You could see he was trying his best and had done a lot of work in one of the corners but he couldn’t puzzle and talk like you could and you thought his concentrated face was cute. Often finding yourself just watching him for a few moments until he caught you and sent you a lopsided smile as he blushed.

You ordered food in when the time came. Taking a small break so you could reevaluate how much you’d done before jumping back in and it was approaching 9pm when you finally finished. Mason giving you the last piece to place in as he knew it was your favourite bit before you cheered and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

‘Not bad for something dorks do, huh?’ You giggled but it was like he was frozen. His gaze all over your face before a look of guilt washed over his.

‘You know I never thought you were a dork’ he gulped, wrapping his arms around you tighter and pulling you further into his lap.

‘Mase it’s fine-‘

‘No, cause it’s not’ he shrugged. ‘I never meant it in a malicious way but even playing it’s still not nice so I’m sorry’

‘Thank you’ whispered and after he gave you a quick smile he was looking down at his lap shly again.

‘It’s kinda late, do you maybe wanna stay over? We can have a sleepover like we used to’ he winked and while the idea sounded fun you were also a little unsure.

‘I don’t wanna sleep in your sex bed’ you laughed and the shocked expression on his face made you giggle.

‘Hey, you think I let just anyone go in there? He laughed. ‘I don’t take random girls in there, I take them to the loft room. Well I did at least, I haven’t done that in a while’

‘Why not?’

‘Dunno, just not in the mood? Been too busy begging for your forgiveness’ he teased before his eyes were boring into yours. ‘Please stay’

‘Okay’ you whispered, slightly thankful he’d asked as you didn’t fancy the drive home this late. You were already sleepy and when he tucked you in next to him after he’d put a movie on it didn’t take you long to fall asleep.

The pair of you joked the next morning about who he would call to come and kick you out and you hadn’t felt this normal with him in years. Your Mason was back and you couldn’t be more thankful but again over the next few weeks his behaviour began to change.

It seemed to be going the opposite way though, Mason swapping his devil horns for angel wings and it was like he was getting sweeter by the second.

Every morning you woke up to a good morning text, and every evening he’d text you goodnight. Messaging you throughout the day when he could and even though it was always silly conversations it was like he’d made it his mission to make you smile whenever he could. He was being the best friend he could be and so much more but it was like he was changing his whole life for the better. No more random nights out so he could trap a girl and take her home, no more mean jokes at your expense and you hadn’t heard about his gaggle of yes men in weeks.

You spent all of your free time together. No matter what you were doing or how boring you thought he might have found it he wanted to be there doing it with you.

You knew Mason was always touchy with everyone but he’d never been the same with you. A hand on your shoulder maybe but that was it, however now he couldn’t seem to keep his hands away from you now. Always standing next to you when he could, his hands on your waist or you back or his fingers threaded through yours as you sat and watched tv.

You could feel things changing but you weren’t sure what it was. Wondering if he was just happy you were back but you needed an explanation for the puppy eyes he was sending your way every five seconds that you didn’t understand.

You waited until you’d been to his for dinner one night, letting him load the dishwasher as you got comfortable on the sofa and once he was done he flopped down with his head in your lap as a content hum fell from his lips.

‘What’s gotten into you lately?’ You laughed, massaging his head slightly as he nestled into your lap even further but the action just made you laugh until he was rolling onto his back and looking up at you with a smile that made his eyes crease.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well I know I said I wanted the old Mason back but this is something else’ you winked and you could see his cheeks flush as you called him out for his actions.

‘Well I want you to like me’ he shrugged, sitting up and taking your hand in his and even though he was shy you kept pressing him in hope of some answers.

‘You’re my best friend Mason, of course I like you’

‘What if I more than like you?’ He whispered, so quietly you thought you hadn’t heard it but when your eyes met his you knew he’d said what you thought he had.

‘I don’t understand’

‘I don’t either really’ he laughed, sitting up taller so he could face you and you felt your heart race at what he might be saying. ‘All I know is that things have changed for me and I feel like I need you to know how I feel. It’s fine if you don’t feel it too but I’ve just been feeling these things for you for a few weeks and you’re the person I tell everything to so I feel like I’ve got to tell you now’

‘What things are you feeling?’ You asked. Wondering if you’d maybe got the wrong end of the stick but his next sentence took the breath out of your lungs.

‘Im feeling like I wanna kiss you’ he whispered, barely able to hear him but you knew what he’d said.

What?

You couldn’t speak, and by the looks of it Mason knew he had to keep speaking so you let him squeeze you hand as he word vomited everything he’d been holding in.

‘I just keep having these moments with you, like time stops and I’m in this trance and all I can focus on you and wanting you in a way I’ve never done before. Remember when we did that puzzle? You put that last piece in and you were just so happy like I swear to god all I wanted to was kiss your face off’ he laughed but you couldn’t believe what he was saying. Not sure how to react as no one had ever said anything like this to you let alone your best friend.

‘Mase I- I don’t think I-‘

‘It’s okay’ he smiled. ‘I said it’s fine if you don’t’ he smiled and even though him saying it made you feel better, you could tell he was a little embarrassed. Wondering if you should make a joke to ease the tension and as he looked away you began to speak without even thinking.

‘I know you said you weren’t in the mood for girls but you must be really desperate if you’re thinking about kissing me’ you laughed, trying to ease the tension slightly but he just smiled at you and shrugged.

‘I wouldn't go that far. But it’s honestly fine, we’ve been spending a lot of time together and I’ve probably got all mixed up. I’m sure it’s just a phase and it’ll pass’ he laughed. ‘Just forget it, it’s fine and I don’t want things to be weird’

But how could you forget?

No one in your entire existence had ever admitted having feelings for you. It was something you never thought would happen yet here was your best friend telling you he felt like he wanted to kiss you.

It was like a switch had suddenly gone off in your brain, over the coming weeks finding yourself daydreaming about kissing him too and what it might be like to be his girl. Thinking about how his hand would feel clasped in your own, his fingers linked in between yours or just how his touch would feel anywhere and everywhere on your body.

You shook yourself out of it at first, like you were waking yourself up from a nightmare and you couldn’t comprehend how your brain had conjured up such a strange image but as the days went on you basked in it. Giggling as you dreamed about all the things you could do together and how happy you could be.

The pair of you had always been platonic, and whilst lately the lines maybe had become a bit blurred as he became touchier with you with the added time you spent together, your thoughts about him lately were anything but platonic.

Everytime you shut your eyes all you could see was his soft smile and the way his eyes creased at the sides so adorably. The dimple on his cheek made your heart race and all you could think about was taking him up on his offer and planting your lips on his. It wasn’t just his smile though, it was everything. His chocolate chip eyes you wanted to drown in, his smell that made you feel like home and his arms that made you feel safer than anything else.

Everything seemed to be hitting you like a truck and you felt ridiculous. Waiting for his name to pop up on your phone constantly and the butterflies only intensified with each new message. Finding yourself sat giggling in anticipation of what he was going to say next and going to bed with a huge smile on your face every night.

You never meant to fall for him, much like he probably never meant to fall for you, but it had happened and you didn’t know what to do with yourself. Feeling like a schoolgirl with your first crush and the fact you knew it was reciprocated somewhat excited you and filled you with dread at the same time.

The more you thought about him, the sillier you started to feel. He never offered to be your boyfriend, never said anything about dates or anything extra. He’d said he wanted to kiss you, and that was it.

The words just a phase rang through your ears constantly and as the days went by you realised you didn’t want to be just a phase to him. Disappointment flooding you at him trying his best to curb his feelings whilst yours only grew for him.

You’d noticed he’d pulled back from you a little bit, trying his hardest not to talk to you every minute of the day but you didn’t let him ignore you for too long. Now you were in your feels all you could think about was him and when you might next get to see him. Not wanting to look too eager and alert him to the fact anything had changed but when he text you one evening you felt your excitement levels rise.

You decided to wear one of the dresses he’d picked out for you for your holiday and gave yourself enough time to do your makeup nicely and straighten your hair. You didn't know why you wanted to, or maybe you did, but it was the first night out where he wasn’t trying to set you up with one of his friends and you felt more relaxed about it. That was until he text you that he was on his way and you felt like throwing up.

It's like the words were stuck in his throat as soon as he saw you, frozen to the spot as you locked your door behind you and you could see him visibly gulp as he tried to shake it off and say hello to you properly.

It was one of the weirdest nights out you’d ever been on, the pair of you turning up together and he led you to your section by your hand. Once he’d found you both seats next to each other he was off to the bar to get you a drink with his eyes not leaving you for me more a few moments before he was back with you.

Things only got weirder though as he paid no attention to any of the girls looking his way, not even engaging in conversation with most of the girls the boys would introduce to him and when you tried to question him about it he just shrugged and said he wasn’t in the mood.

‘Hey y/n, have you met Ethan?’ Woody asked as he nodded someone over. A tall guy with dark hair and bright blue eyes making his way over to you and you rolled your eyes at his clear attempt to set you up with another one of his friends after you’d told him to stop but the feeling of Mason dropping your hand from under the table that made you turn away to look back at him.

He didn’t say anything, just gave you what looked like a sad smile before you had to turn back to say hello to Ethan. Woody banging on about how he came from Portsmouth just like you and Mason and how they’d gone to primary school together but now Ethan was in the Navy hence why you’d never seen him but he was back for a little while to visit.

You didn’t know what possessed you to do it, but you felt weird now Mason's hand wasn’t in yours. Looking down to see it was resting on his thigh so as carefully and as sneakily as you could you laced your fingers back through his and squeezed it gently. Not acknowledging him in any way but you could see his head snap up to look at you from the corner of your eye before his other hand fell over your clasped ones. Fiddling with your rings as the others spoke and you tried not to smile at how adorable he was being.

All the thoughts you’d had about having more with Mason that week, he was making a reality tonight. Giving you glimpses of what it might be like to to be his and how he might treat you but you were still so unsure as to what he wanted as he told you he was just a phase he was getting over so you played dumb for little.

‘You wanna dance?’ You asked him, tugging on his hand gently but he just scrunched his face up slightly.

‘I’m good, you go I’ll watch you’ he smiled and whilst the thought of him watching you dance thrilled you a little bit, you also could tell he wasn’t on his a game and looked like he didn’t even want to be there at all anymore.

‘Are you okay? You don’t seem as into it as usual’

‘I’m fine’ he shrugged ‘Dunno just not in the mood to be around loads of people i guess’

‘We can leave if you want? I mean it’s way past my bedtime anyway’

‘We can, but I’ve got one condition’ he told you with a smile, leaning closer so he could talk right in your ear and you felt every hair in your body stand to attention.

‘What’s that?’

‘Come stay at mine?’ He whispered and his offer made you freeze. ‘I’ll make you breakfast in the morning’

‘Okay’ you whispered, letting him take your hand and lead you out but you were surprised he didn’t want to say goodbye to anyone first. Only giving Woody a quick wave who gave the pair of you a look you couldn't quite make out before you were jumping in a cab back to his.

Part of you was happy he wanted to get home earlier than usual, it had been a long week and once you were changed into an oversized T-shirt of his you got settled on your side of his bed. Hazily watching him slip under the covers in just a pair of boxers as you tried to hide a smile and thankfully he didn’t catch it.

‘Go to sleep love, you look exhausted’ he laughed, tucking the duvet around you a little more tightly. ‘I’ve just got a few emails to look through okay but I’ll be quite’

‘That’s fine, Night Mase’

‘Night love’ he whispered and you turned onto your side away from him so you could get comfy and hopefully drift off soon.

Your whole body felt like a dead weight, your eyes feeling like they’d been stuck together with glue but your mind wouldn’t shut off and you knew you would be thinking about Mason and replaying most of the night you’d just spent together. Remembering the way he held your hand, held your waist and spoke directly into your ear like you were his made your spine tingle. But the memories were soon becoming warped and disfigured as your brain became tired and you eventually let the sleep take you.

You hadn't been asleep long, but the feeling of Mason's arm sliding around your waist as he cuddled up to you woke you slightly. Not enough to wake you up fully and the warmth of his body pressed against yours was already sending you back to sleep so you just went with it and let him hold you. Revelling in the soft kisses he was pressing to your shoulder as you tried not to smile but you definitely weren't ready for what was about to happen next.

‘What am I gonna do with you, eh?’ He whispered, only just loud enough for you to hear but you knew you shouldn’t be. He obviously thought you were still asleep and couldn’t hear him so you stayed as still as you could and kept your breathing steady in hopes he’d carry on. ‘I’d do absolutely anything for you, you know that? And I’m really trying to get over you but you make it so difficult’

I don’t want you to get over me was the first thought in your head but you didn’t vocalise it. You wanted him to keep talking, to see what else he could admit to your semi unconscious state and luckily enough for you he kept going.

‘I know I said it was just a phase but I’m not so sure it is now. You’re the only person who knows the real me and wants what’s best for me. I can’t get you out of my head’

You waited for more, but it never came. Soon enough his soft snores filled the room and you knew he was asleep but his admissions were enough for you. You knew how he felt, and you were pretty sure you felt the same now but you weren’t sure if you had the balls to do anything about it right now so you followed his lead and shut your eyes so you could let the sleep take you again.

Mason was still asleep when you awoke. The pair of you facing each other as you’d turned in your sleep and you used the time he was asleep just to look at him. His pouty lips and pink cheeks made your tummy flutter and after what you’d heard last night all you could think about is what to say to him this morning.

He didn’t give you too much longer to think about it though and you felt your heart thump as he stirred awake. His eyes opening softly as they latched onto yours but his expression remained unchanged asides from a small smile. Just looking back at you as you did the same to him and a sense of peace washed over you.

The pair of you were both on the edge of your own respective pillows, as close as you could be without touching one another but the moment felt intimate and you could see the love in his eyes for you as you watched each other bathed in the early morning sun. The light bringing out the golden tones in his hair and the honey hues in his eyes, it hitting you right there that your best friend was probably the most gorgeous boy you’d ever laid eyes on.

You both didn’t move for a while. Content with just looking at the person in front of you and thinking how thankful you were that you got a chance to wake up next to them and you knew this was only ending one way. You were nervous to say the least, but after everything you’d heard last night you were pretty sure you were on the same page and he’d welcome what you were about to give him.

It was you that made the first move. Not even sure as to why you did it but you lent forward slowly, watching how his body mirrored your own as you kept going and both your eyes snapped away from one another. Focusing on the others lips now and just as your hand reached out to touch his chest for a bit of support, your lips finally locked and his hand cupped your jaw immediately.

It wasn’t a soft kiss like you thought it might be, Mason stole the breath from your lungs as soon as it hit him what was happening. Pushing himself forward so he could hover over you and control the kiss a bit more but you moved your hand to the back of his head so he wouldn’t part from you.

Your tummy was erupting with butterflies, your chest heaving as he slipped his tongue in your mouth and you couldn’t help but press yourself into him further. Letting him grip your thigh as he hitched it up his body and you were quite happy to get lost in him but it was Mason that pulled back. Kissing over your cheeks until you were giggling and when he eventually pulled back his smile made your heart melt.

He was quick to settle back down next to you. Pulling your body right up against his and keeping your thigh wrapped around his waist before you felt his hand on your lower back so he could tickle your skin lightly.

‘Sorry’ you whispered, suddenly feeling embarrassed about what you’d done but his gentle smile relaxed you.

‘Don’t be, I don’t mind’ he smiled. Pecking your lips again softly and you knew you were blushing. ‘You know I’ve been wanting to kiss for a while but I didn’t wanna push things too far’ he smiled ‘and it’s not that I don’t want to ever, but I don’t want you to regret anything right now’

‘I wouldn’t have’ you whispered, watching his face soften slightly but deep down you knew it was for the best. You still didn’t know what any of this meant and it was clearly obvious to Mason you were worried as he brushed some strands of hair out of your face and gave you a sympathetic smile.

‘What is it, love? What’s on your mind’

‘I just… I’m not sure, like what does all of this mean?’ You breathed. Watching his eyes light up as you finally spoke your mind. ‘Your my best friend Mason, I don’t want to lose you’

‘You won’t’

‘But I need to know what you want. Is it just a kiss? Like are we done now?’ You laughed, trying to keep it light as it was a pretty serious conversation but the smile on his face relaxed you.

‘No, I’m definitely not done with you’ he told you sincerely. ‘I get us being friends complicates things a little bit but I’m not the guy you think I am, not anymore at least anyway and definitely not when it comes to you’

‘I feel like I’m not enough for you’ you whispered, finally addressing the elephant in the room and you could tell your words had upset him a little bit. The frown on his face was adorable but you wanted him to know how you felt no matter how awful it sounded.

‘Don’t say that’ he huffed, kissing your jaw gently. ‘Tell me why so I can tell you it’s rubbish’

‘No because what if I can’t give you everything those other girls have?’ You laughed even though you were trying to be serious. ‘Like I don't wanna be a dick but you’ve always said you’d never be a one woman guy so what’s changed. What if your eyes wander somewhere else? What do I do then?’

You didn’t mean for it to come out so abruptly but Mason knew you never minced your words and didn’t take it too badly. He knew his past and he owned it but he also knew it was his feelings for you that had changed him and he was willing to say whatever he could to get you on board.

‘Remember the day we did the puzzle together, and I said I hadn’t slept with anyone in a while cause I wasn’t in the mood? Well that wasn’t the reason. I didn't know it then fully but I hadn’t because all I wanted was you and the thought of being with anyone else made me feel weird’ he told you. His fingers delicately tracing patterns on your back as he spoke and you knew you were hanging off his every word. ‘At first I thought it was because I missed us being together and I wanted to spend more time with you, but then I wanted to spend all my time with you. My eyes aren’t gonna wander okay? They haven’t in months and why would they when you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen’

‘You’re just saying that’ you whispered, not used to compliments like that coming from him and your instincts were to think he was lying but you could see in his eyes something had changed.

‘Don’t tell me what I think’ he teased, squeezing your sides gently. ‘I’ve always thought you were pretty, why do you think I could never understand that you were single?’

‘Mase I’ve never… I’ve never done any of this. You’re the first boy who’s ever admitted to feeling anything more than friendship with me. I don’t know what to do’

‘You don’t have to do anything, we don’t have to do anything okay? Nothing has to change. I just wanna hold you more, kiss you more maybe if that’s something you’d want’

‘I’ve never had sex’ you blurted and the confession made him chuckle. Clearly he knew this already but you just wanted him to be certain of what he was getting himself into.

‘That’s fine’ he whispered, pulling you in a little closer. ‘I know you’re scared, okay? This is different for me too. I’ve never had a proper girlfriend before, I mean I’ve dated girls and been exclusive with a couple but never got to the official stage. I’ve never wanted that from anyone but I want it from you. If that’s what you want’

‘I think I do, I’m just…’

‘What?’ He whispered, a look of love and reassurance on his face and you felt your eyes sting at how safe you felt with him.

‘I’m fucking terrified’ you laughed. ‘I know I’ve been trying to find someone but I never thought it would be you’

‘Well I didn’t think I’d fall for you either’ he winked before placing a soft kiss to your lips that made you melt into the sheets. ‘We don’t have to stick a big label on it or anything, we can just hang out like we have been and see what comes natural to us okay? And if it’s sex your worried about then I don’t care about waiting’

‘I don’t wanna be bad for you’

‘You won’t be, not when you’ve got me for a teacher anyway’ he joked and you rolled your eyes before his face got serious. ‘I know you’re scared but you know you can trust me don't you? I wanna be the one to show you, to make you feel good. I wanna be the one you trust to show you how good it can be’ he whispered and you felt your skin tingle all over at his words. ‘But we’ll wait until you’re ready cause there’s a million things we need to do before we get there’

‘So I’m not just a phase then?’

‘Not at all’ he laughed, ‘and I never thought you were. I could just tell you didn’t feel the same when I told you how I felt and I was trying to make you feel better’ He’d explained. ‘I couldn't go three weeks without you, gorgeous. And I knew I’d fucked up the next day but I was too much of a dick to do anything about it until I couldn’t cope without you anymore’

‘So.. you’re looking for a relationship then?’ You asked, wanting everything out on the table so you could both be certain about what was going on and you watched his face soften at you as he bit his lip nervously.

‘I wasn’t, you know I’ve never cared about that stuff but you’ve made me care. I want to do all that stuff with you. I’m done messing people around okay I just want you’

‘I want you too’ you whispered, finally admitting it out loud and you felt the weight of the world lift off of you.

‘Yeah? I thought you didn’t’

‘So did I, but ever since you told me how you felt I haven’t been able to stop thinking about us. Its like you tapped into this weird part of my brain that thinks about you in ways I never have before’

‘You’ve finally fallen victim to my mind control’ he teased and you only had a second to smile before his lips were on yours again. Hot and heavy as you wrapped yourselves around each other and you realised kissing Mason was better than you ever imagined. You just hoped you could somehow make him feel the same one day but when Mason pulled back and rested his forehead on yours, his eyes told you all you needed to know.

‘So if you’ve never had sex and never had a boyfriend, was that your first kiss?’ He asked quizzically, a spark of hope in his eyes that he could kiss you like no one else had but unfortunately you had to burst his bubble just a tiny bit.

‘You’d think it would be but no it wasn’t’ you giggled and he looked at you in deep confusion. ‘You remember Scott from school? Scott Grey?’ You asked and he nodded his head in confusion. ‘Well technically he was my first kiss’

‘You what?’

‘Oh yeah’ you laughed, laying on your back as he pushed you back slightly and you could see the jealousy written all over his face. 'He took me round the back of the science building after school once to show me his new tamagotchi. Asked if I’d liked to be its mum before planting one on me and then never spoke to me again’

‘Why didn’t you tell me? I would have kicked his dick off’ he told you, brows pinched as you could tell how annoyed he was with him but you were quick to hold his face and kiss his nose.

‘First of all, no you wouldn’t have. He was twice your size and his dad was on the school board so you could have been kicked out. And secondly I never told you cause you’ve never asked’

‘I’ve been pretty rubbish haven’t I’ he huffed, it suddenly hitting him that he simultaneously knew everything about you but also nothing at all but the way you stroked his cheek let him know everything was okay.

‘If it makes you feel any better, you were my first proper kiss. I’ve never kissed anyone like that before’

‘That does make me feel better’ he chuckled. Getting himself settled next to you again before he pulled you into his chest. ‘What about dates?’

‘I’ve been on a couple’

‘When was the last one?’

‘Like two months ago? A few days after we had our big argument’

‘What?’ He laughed, tickling your sides until you giggled but you fought him off eventually.

‘After I called you a dick and left the club that night, Olivia took me to a party at some guys from works house. I got talking to one of his friends and we went out on a date a few days after but it was actually me that wasn’t feeling it and I told him I didn't see things going anywhere’

‘What was wrong with him?’ He asked quietly but that was the issue. There was nothing wrong with him at all.

‘Just didn’t feel what I thought I should have felt you know?’ You whispered and you saw Mason nod gently with a smile on his lips. ‘I know I’ve never been in that situation or felt those things before but I told myself when I did eventually find someone I wouldn’t settle for just anyone. I want fireworks and warmth and all those things you read about’

‘Do you feel it now?’ He whispered, his eyes searching your face erratically almost as if he was scared of your answer but little did he know he had no reason to be.

‘I do, yeah’

The relieved breath that fell from Mason's lips made you smile wider than you had in a while. His own face mirroring yours just as he planted another heavy kiss on your lips before trailing his kissed down your jaw and neck and you knew you had to try and distract him before you both ended up in a compromised position.

‘Mason?’ You gasped, hearing him chuckle against your skin and even though he stopped his attack with his lips you felt him nestle into you with a content hum that made you pull him in closer.

‘Yes love?’ He spoke against your neck, the vibrations travelling over every inch of your skin and you had to hold in your gasp at the feel of it.

‘You promised me breakfast’ you whispered and that was all it took for him to pull up and look at you with his usual cheeky smile.

‘I did, didn't I’ he laughed. Gently brushing a few strands of hair out of your face. ‘How do pancakes sound?’

‘It sounds like you want me to make breakfast’ you pouted, watching him nod at you enthusiastically before he was trying his hardest to pull you away from the warmth and safety of the duvet.

‘I love how you get me. Come on, I’ll assist you’ he confirmed and you didn’t have it in you to argue. Letting him pull you up so you could stand in front of him and when you felt his hands dangerously low on your back you smiled up at him cheekily. ‘Thank you for giving me a shot, I know I don’t deserve one’

‘You better make it worth my while then, Mount’ you teased but no more words needed to be said. You could see it in his eyes he was ready to make things as good for the pair of you as he could so you let him lead you downstairs by the hand to start the next part of your journey together.

Well done if you made it 🤭 thank you so so much for reading and I’d love some feedback if you fancy it 😘 xxx

[ireneispunk]

Just a Taste

Moder AU Aemond Targaryen x female coworker reader smut (requested)

request: 'Hi Irene! Can I request a lovely smutty modern aemond x reader where they're friends but not quite. Reader thinks aemond is annoying and aemond thinks reader is cute so he teases her a lot. They're at a work party and Aemond gets annoyed when others tease and flirt with her so he drags reader off to another room and marks her as his. Thank you thank you!'

w.c: 3278

c.w: SMUT 18+, frustration to lovers (??), oral f receiving, unprotected p in v sex, aemond and reader work together in modern au, me not knowing how grown up office jobs work :)

a.n: thank you so much for the request! sorry it too me so long but i hope you love it!

i'm starting an aemond and jacaerys perma taglist cus of my inconsistent positng teehee, let me know if / which you wish to be on!

You groaned taking a look at the time on your monitor, it was somehow only halfway through the day. You typed away endlessly, watching as the minute ticked to 1pm. You exhaled, before making your way to the break room, greeting the few other members of staff in there. You heard the shuffling as some people made their way in or out, clicking on the kettle for your tea. You felt a presence behind you, and you already knew who it was before looking. “What do you want Aemond? Just to admire the view?” You spoke, throwing a teabag in your mug. He scoffed lightly, stepping to the side of you and leaning his palm against the counter.

“I came to offer my condolences,” you turned your head to face him and raised your eyebrows. His light hair tied back in its signature bun, shirt sleeves half rolled up. “I heard Robberts accepted my proposal over yours.” He spoke so smugly, begging for a reaction out of you. You turned to the fridge, pulling out the milk and rolling your eyes once he couldn’t see you.

“Yeah, I did hear about that unfortunate slip in his judgement.” Your fingers tapped upon the countertop, waiting for the hot water. “Though I do recall it was my last four? Was it? That beat out yours.”  A small chuckle left his lips as his arms folded across his front.

“I do love when you bare your teeth and indulge me.” He said lowly only addressing you.

You puffed out a sigh, turning to put the milk away. “If you spent half as much time on your research as you did being insufferable maybe you’d have a better shot.”

“You wound me.” He dramatically placed his hand over his heart.

“Mmm, that’s the idea.” You spoke almost absent mindedly, opening the cupbpard above you to find the sugar jar empty. You let out a frustrated groan, tilted your head back and closing your eyes.

“Are these something you’d want?” You turned to face Aemond, his large hands holding out small sugar packets. Your eyes went wide, noticing it was the good brand too.

“Where did you get those!” You exclaimed, a smile reaching your lips.

“Linda’s desk.” He replied, smirk across his face. Yours dropped slightly. Linda.

“Linda from accounting?” You groaned remembering the time you used the unassigned parking spot she claimed was hers. “I think she might actually spill blood if she notices them gone.” He laughed and as you reached for the packets he pulled his hand back, you furrowed your brows and looked up at him before trying to grab them from him again. He lifted them up above his head, the movement untucked the front of his shirt slightly. You couldn’t even fight the immediate urge to look at the exposed skin, his toned stomach and light happy trail brought a warmth to your face. You tore your eyes away returning them to Aemond’s, he eyed you with a small smirk playing at his lips.

“Give me the sugar Aemond.” You tried to speak in a stern manner but found it hard to considering the heat across your cheeks. He tilted his head to the side slightly, looking expectantly. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms leaving your palm open. “Please?” You questioned. He smiled widely place the packets in your palm, his fingers grazing over yours ever so slightly. He made his way out of the breakroom as you tried to simmer your racing heart. You watched as he paused for a moment, turning back around to you and resting his palm upon the door frame.

“See you Saturday.” He said with a smirk. You shot him a puzzled look, before realisation washed over you.

You grimaced lightly, “Wouldn’t miss it.” You said flatly. He poked his tongue into his cheek in amusement before disappearing off behind the wall.

You cursed under your breath as you made it back to your desk. A hand slamming down on your desk made you jump and look up. Your office friend stood above you looking expectantly. “A little birdy told me you haven’t made some boring excuse to miss the party tomorrow!” Her excitement reverberated through your cubicle. You shot her a ‘keep it down’ glare as she threw her hands up and squatted next to where you sat.

“I forgot to orchestrate a family emergency, but there’s still time break a bone.” You took a sip of your drink. She huffed, pushing your arm lightly.

“The financial year ends on the same day every year… I think you just wanted the excuse to see Aemond again.” She giggled watching your eyes go wide.

“Absolutely not! He is the bane of my existence, I’m pretty sure he is punishment for whatever I did in a past life.” You couldn’t lie to yourself though, ever since Aemond joined your firm it had made things more entertaining at some points, if not a whole lot more frustrating too.

She raised her brows, peering over the top of your desk slightly to ensure the coast was clear. “The punishment could be a little less delicious don’t you think?” You scoffed, trying to become absorbed in your work. She rose to her feet and was a few feet away from your desk before turning back to exclaim, “Ooh! Wear something sexy!”, Your jaw hung open, but no words fell out. Your colleague beside you raised a brow at you as you face flushed.

It felt as if hours had passed as you sat upon your bedroom floor upon a mess of clothes. You watched as the clock ticked, you were technically already running late to the “it’s not mandatory but we’d love each and every one of you to show up and celebrate with us!” party. Your head looked between two dresses laid out in front of you, one black and the other in your favourite colour. The black was the obligatory ‘there but unused funeral dress’ you had, the other verged on being the perfect dress. You put it on one last time and looked in the mirror, it was tighter than what you were used to, short but not so short you had to worry, and the colour complimented your complexion perfectly. You felt beautiful in this dress and glanced back at the black one once more deciding whether to play it safe. You phone chimed upon your bed, and you opened the message from your friend.

It was a mirror selfie in the bathroom with a drink in hand. ‘Don’t pussy out.’ The message read. You rolled your eyes before another message chimed through, ‘ps. bar has free drinks’. You laughed lightly before sliding your heels on and grabbing your jacket. You replied back with a short ‘on the way’ before climbing into your taxi.

You arrived at your office building, the height seeming daunting all of a sudden. You passed a few faces you knew, smoking besides the entrance, and exchanged a few hellos. Your shoes clicked across the marble floors as you made your way to the lift. A nervousness bubbled within you as it went past the floor you worked on up to one of the top floors that served as a function room. The doors opened and to your relief, revealed a bustling party. You stepped out paused at the top of the small set of stairs that led down to the main floor and eyed the room. You vaguely remembered the layout from your first week and tour of the building, but you had never seen it in action, and you couldn’t deny it looked good. The one empty bar was replaced with two mixologists pouring various liquids, the lights were dimmed, with lamps and string lights casting a warm glow upon the room. The music was loud enough to engulf the room but did not deafen you. You fiddled with your sleeve for a moment, scanning the room for your friend, before pulling your jacket from your shoulders and leaving it with the others. Your fingers grazed against the cool metal banister as you stepped down the stairs. Your heart pounded in your chest, feeling it click with every step of your heel. Maybe it was your late arrival, your dressed up look, the lull in music as it changed tracks, or a combination of the three but you caught the attention of a few pairs of eyes on the floor beneath you. Your eyes looked towards the floor before a loud voice calling out to you made you jump. You looked up to see your friend with a wide grin across her face waving out to you, her exclamation had attracted the attention of a few of your coworkers as they glanced between the two of you. You quickly stepped down the rest of the stairs to meet her and shushed her, linking your arms. You both made your way over to the seating at the bar as she rambled incessantly about all the unmissable things you had missed.

You pushed yourself up onto the barstool and smiled at the bartender as your drink of choice was slid towards you. You watched as your friend laughed through her stories before quickly exclaiming she needed to use the restroom again. You smiled to yourself, you were glad she was here or else you’d find it harder to be comfortable. Just as quickly as she left, another presence joined you. You looked up, seeing Aemond leaning with his back against the bar. His eyes shamelessly scanned your body, appreciating the parts he had never seen before, and admiring how your dress fit you. His eyes met yours, his signature smirk plastered across his lips. “Can I buy you a drink?” he questioned.

“It’s an open bar?” You retorted; brows furrowed.

“Then I can buy you two.” You laughed at his ridiculousness but nodded your head. Aemond smiled to himself, he earnt a genuine laugh from you, and it was the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. You took a moment to take in his appearance, a dark shirt covering his chest with the top button undone, his long silver hair cascading over his shoulders instead of thrown into a bun. A faint blush painted your cheeks as he caught your eyes on him, yet he did not taunt you as he usually would. The conversation flowed between you, about work, shows, both of your overly competitive sides showing at times. Your head threw back in laughter at one of his remarks, your hand gripping his forearm as you laughed. As soon as you noticed you removed it and placed it back around your drink. Aemond watched you intently. You never wanted to give anything away, never reveal that you wanted him too, yet your body betrayed you.

Your time was interrupted as one of your colleagues joined you on your other side. He addressed you directly, then nodded his head towards Aemond who merely rose a brow. “Hi Alex.” Your response was blunt, this was the first time he’d spoken to you in months. Unlike Aemond, you felt disgusting under his gaze, his eyes never met yours, opting to settle on your breasts even as you spoke.

“Is there something you need?” Aemond spoke, a hint of annoyance in his voice. You looked towards him, fingers digging into the edge of the bar.

“Oh, yeah. Big boss wants you. Something about the appraisal on your report.” Alex grinned, he seemed happy to watch Aemond curse under his breath and walk across the room towards your boss. You smiled flatly taking a large sip of your drink. He continued to talk at you, not realising your disinterest from your ‘oh really’, ‘wow’, and ‘cool’ roster of responses. It felt as if hours passed but in reality, it had only been a few minutes. Never so badly had you wanted Aemond glued to your hip.

Aemond stood talking to his boss, trying to hurry the conversation along so he could return to your side. Every time he looked back to the bar, anger bubbled from within him. “So by next Monday?” Snapped him from burning holes into your back.

“Yes, Monday.” He answered immediately catching a few people off guard. His boss thanked him and Aemond shook a few hands before making his way back to you. His fists clenched beside him as he weaved through the huddles of people. He knew you didn’t care for Alex. He listened to your laugh; he knew it was your fake laugh because he had made you laugh properly all evening.

You jumped slightly at the sudden feeling of a hand upon your shoulder. You looked up to see Aemond with a look on his face you had never seen before, pure anger. His fingers burned into your flesh. “I need to borrow you for a moment.” He didn’t allow you to respond before he had pulled you by your hand from the bar stool and back towards the stairs. You struggled to keep up with his long strides in your heels as you called his name. He pushed open a door to a room you had never been in before to reveal a dark desolate meeting room. He swiftly shut the door and clicked the lock on it, turning to face you.

“Aemond what-“ He cut you off with a kiss, his hands reaching the sides of your face. As you registered what was happening your pressed both hands against his chest and pushed him away. You watched his face, your chest rising and falling at a quick pace. You felt hunger take over your body and stepped back towards him. “Kiss me again.” You whispered. Moments as the words left your lips his hand returned to your cheek and his lips brushed yours before kissing you deeply. His lips fit against yours in a perfectly satisfying way. His body pressed against yours, pushing you until the backs of your thighs hit the cool table. He pulled his lips from yours as they found your neck, tongue running across the softness beneath your ear. You let out a gasp as his teeth grazed across your throat, biting slightly and kissing every mark he left.

“Sit for me.” He spoke between kisses. Aemond’s tone spread a heat in your lower stomach. The sound of champagne popping snapped you out of your haze, eyes shooting towards the door.

“But what if someone knows.” You whispered. You bit your lip, as Aemond’s fingers brushed the hem of your dress and against your thighs.

His lips left your neck as he looked you in the eye. With nothing but the moonlight glowing up the room, he looked angelic, with a devilish smirk upon his lips. “The music is loud enough. Sit.”

You nodded, sitting upon the table, the cool lacquered wood hitting your thighs. He placed one more kiss upon your lips before sinking to his knees in front of you. He pushed your knees apart, settling between your thighs. Chills ran over your body as he peppered kissed from your knee to your upper thigh. You watched him, nervous look on your face. His hand reached your lower stomach and pushed against it slightly, “Lay down, you’ll enjoy it more.” He mumbled against your thigh. You swallowed, laying back against the table and trying to ignore the thudding in your chest. His fingers hiked the edge of your dress around your hips, a small groan escaping his lips at the sight of your clothed pussy. He placed kisses at your inner thighs before placing an open-mouthed kiss over your clit. You felt a jolt travel through your body as he slid your panties to the side. He hummed, his middle fingers grazed upon your pussy before delving inside, slowly bottoming out within you over and over. A gasp escaped your lips as you felt Aemond’s tongue latch upon your clit, circling it softly. You propped yourself up on your elbow, you free hand making its way into Aemond’s silver hair. Your fingers gripped the strands, pulling him closer to you. His tongue responded by picking up the pace as he angled his fingers upwards, grazing that sweet spot inside of you. Your stomach tightened as Aemond raced you towards your peak. You looked down between your legs to meet his gaze already watching you, causing your orgasm to wash over you. It took all of your strength to not clamp your thighs shut, letting him coax a final few moans from your lips.

You watched as he rose to his feet, towering over your body splayed out upon the table. You sat up, hand snaking around his neck to pull him back into a kiss, much hungrier than before. Your hands ran down his chest, the softness of his shirt hiding the strength of his chest. Your fingertips untucked the shirt from his trousers before you felt Aemond’s hand across your cheek, his thumb resting upon your chin. Pulling back from the kiss, you watched as he undid the buckle on his belt, pulling it from his waist in a way that made your cheeks flare. It clanked to the ground, as he pulled his trousers down enough to expose his cock, your jaw going slack at the sight of it. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His lips found yours as he lined himself up with your pussy. You jolted slightly as he inserted himself, a loud moan leaving your lips as he filled you up. His thrusts started slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size before you brought your legs up and wrapped them around his waist. His forehead rested against yours, as he hissed slightly at the new angle. Aemond’s pace quickened as your relaxed into his arms, moans leaving your lips that delicately grazed against his.

Your nails dug into the top of his back, eyes screwing shut as a flurry of praises escaped your lips. Aemond groaned, pulling you impossibly close, your breasts pressing against his chest and his head finding the crook of your neck to torment again. You dropped your head to the other side, allowing him to explore your neck as he fucked you. As another orgasm approached you, your fingers found his hair once again, pulling lightly as pleasure took over your body. Your legs crossed behind him as his thrusts repeatedly edged you closer. A final scream of his name and your pussy tightening in pleasure caused him to curse and bury his hips deep into you, filling you with his seed. His breathing was raggedy as his head rested upon your shoulder, lazily kissing it.

You adjusted your dress, eyeing your dishevelled reflection in the reflection of the window. A familiar pair of hands met your waist, sliding around to your front. You sighed as his chin rested upon your shoulder, turning your head to face him. You admired the way the moon illuminated his light hair, the faded scar that ran down his cheek framing his beauty. “I can’t think of anything worse than going back out to that party.” You hummed, placing your hands over his.

Aemond laughed lightly, turning you to face him and weaving his fingers between yours. “What if we didn’t?” He questioned, his usual smirk finding its way back to his face. You hummed inquisitively. “There’s no party at my place.” He shrugged lightly. You thought for a moment, before grinning and pulling him by his arm, a genuine smile of adoration planted firmly upon his face as you did.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Nanami fearing rejection from his wife and daughter after Shibuya left him seriously wounded

Pairing: Nanami x wife!reader; Nanami x daughter

Word Count: 1,9k

Synopsis: Even though he survived Shibuya, Kento Nanami dies from the inside just by the thought of losing you and his precious little daughter due to his severe wounds and scarred skin. But despite his great fear, your reaction turns out completely different than expected.

Warnings: Let's just pretend this is how it ended okay I'm crying, tried to proofread this but I'm just veeeery depressed right now, this might be the fluff you NEED after today's episode

Request and idea by gorgeous @wifenanami <3

Everything’s a blur. What happened last? How did he get here? His heavy heart skips a beat. Oh, right. His whole left side burns like a thousand fires, arm unable to move even an inch by the way his skin feel like bursting every minute. He was severely burned. The last thing he saw was…

Haibara, then Yuji, and then…

You.

Oh god, just the thought of you kills him from the inside.

“Hey, easy there. Your heartbeat is jumping out of the roof. You need to rest now, Nanami. I already called your wife.”

The smell of burned cigarettes simply takes his breath away, along with the venomous words that leave Shoko’s mouth so casually.

“My wife?”, he coughs out, body desperately trying to sit up.

No, this is impossible. You can’t see him like that, body covered in burn marks with his left eye and hair missing. What will you think of him? And what about your daughter? That sweet innocent angel, will she even be able to recognize him? You, his wife, the love of his wife. Your daughter, the greatest treasure on earth.

Will you be disgusted by his fearful sight?

“Yeah, she’s already on her way. Honestly I wasn’t sure if you’ll make it, so I-“

“Why on earth did you call her?”

Shoko stops in her tracks, laying her head to the side in nothing but confusion.

“Huh, what are you talking about? (y/n)’s your wife after all, why wouldn’t I tell her?”

“What if she doesn’t recognize me? What if she’s freaked out by me? What if she brings our daughter with her?”

His sweaty palms begin to shake uncontrollably. In his life, Kento Nanami lost a lot of things: Jobs, money, people, good friends. But oh god, the thought of losing you, his precious little family. It truly kills him from the inside.

“Stop talking nonsense. Being pathetic doesn’t suit you at all”, Shoko remarks dryly.

His widen eyes dart towards the door, waiting in nothing but thick fear for your arrival. Was this afternoon the last time you looked at him as lovingly as you always did? Was it the last time his daughter kissed his right cheek before she left the house? It can’t be, it just can’t turn out like that.

But you deserve so much better. Damn, you are straight up gorgeous, a woman who turns heads on a regular basis. You need more than a crippled man by your side, more than one half of the man you used to know. He wouldn’t even be mad if your eyes lose the spark they hold for him when you see him today.

“I’m leaving now. Something seems to be off. I’m trying to get back by dinner.”

“Why do you have to go this early? I thought we’d have a little time for ourselves. Since our precious little angel is still at kindergarten and I have the afternoon off…”

Your hands roamed around his broad chest, eyes filled with nothing but affection and love. You were always bad at hiding your feelings, your bright orbs being the centre of his universe. God, how much he wanted to lock the door behind you, how much he longed for your touch. But this sounded serious.

“As much as I’d love to take that offer immediately, the young ones need me, (y/n). But I will return as soon as possible and then we’ll finish what you started.”

“Promise it”, you demanded, a small understanding smile decorating your delicate lips while he held your body so tightly against his.

“I promise it. I can’t wait to see you tonight.”

One last longing kiss on your forehead. One last kiss before he left your house with a last “I love you” shouted into thin air.  

“Damn”, he hisses through gritted teeth, pain pulsating through his whole body, taking his sight.

What is his life worth without you in it?

-(y/n)’s POV-

“Mommy, I’m scared.”

“Hey, hold your head up high, angel. Everything will turn out alright, okay? Daddy is a hero, after all”, you reassure your daughter softly while secretly wiping away a falling tear.

When Shoko called you a few minutes ago, your feet begin to carry you on their own, heart hammering against your aching chest. Your loving husband, the man who gifted you with the precious daughter who holds your hand tightly. She didn’t tell you what happened to him, how he feels. But her tone was as urgent as never before, making you storm down the dark streets of Tokyo in pouring rain until you finally arrived at Jujutsu High, opening the well-known doors to the hospital wing with trembling hands.

Please, let him be alright. Maybe injured, but alive. Maybe distressed, but all in all fine.

Please, let your husband be alright.

You wander down the cold hallways, eyes roaming around the area in a desperate attempt to spot your husband somewhere between the countless injured people. Where is he? Where did they put him?

Suddenly, your orbs get stuck on a wave of pink hair.

“Yuji?” you breathe out.

“Mommy, there’s Yuji!”, the excited voice of your little daughter next to you cries out, already on her way to storm towards the pink-haired boy.

You can’t hold back. Out of instinct you follow her tiny feet, embracing the boy in front of you in a tight hug.

“Please tell me you’re alright, tell me you feel well”, you whisper into his ear.

In an instant, tears start to swell up his eyes, soaking through the fabric of your elegant autumn dress. Your heart shatters into a million pieces, hands gently stroking through his hair.

“I’m not. I’m far away from feeling well, (y/n)”, he cries against your neck, letting himself fall completely against your frame.

Oh Yuji. You hate to see him like that, his thick tears falling like the pouring rain outside.

“I’m sorry for letting Nanami-sensei down, I’m sorry for all the things I did, I-“

“Don’t talk any further. I’m sure you did your best, Yuji. And I know Kento is very proud of you. Please, get some rest now, okay? Did Shoko already check on you? Hey, do you want to stay with me tonight?”

“You can sleep in my room!” your daughter suggests in an instant, hugging Yuji’s leg while looking up at him with doe eyes.

“Thank you, I’m okay. You should look after Nanami-sensei. After all you’re here because of him and not because of me, right?”

“I will always look after you, Yuji. But yes, I’d really like to see my husband right now”, you reply tenderly.

“Is my dad alright?”

“He’s in room 018 down the hall. Please…tell him I’m sorry”, Yuji mutters.

“There is nothing to be sorry about, thank you for your help, Yuji. Come on darling, let’s go see daddy.”

You let out your shaky breath, hand holding onto the doorknob. Finally. You will definitely pay Yuji a visit later on. But know, you have to focus on him. Finally, you’re able to see your husband again.

“Kento, I’m here-“

“Don’t look at me. Get out and never come back”, his harsh voice instructs you.

There he sits, back faces towards you will a white cloak covering his upper body. Your mind begins to race, his punitive tone being to unusual. Not even when discussing, your husband ever turned this cold. What has gotten into him?

“Hi daddy!” your daughter greets her father with all excitement.

His heart breaks in an instant. Why? Why on earth do you have to be here? And why did you have to bring your daughter with you? Why do you have to see him like that?

“I am not the man you fell in love with anymore, (y/n).”

The bitterness in his voice makes you squint your eyes while walking towards him.

“What are you talking about, Kento? I might love you even more after you survived this hell”, you reply in an instant.

“Daddy, what happened to your face?”

Like in slow motion he turns around, revealing severe burns on the left side of his body and his eye covered in bandages. Your heart skips a beat. Oh god, what happened to your poor husband?

“Who did this to you, love?”

“It doesn’t matter how or who. But I understand that I’m not the man you married anymore. I am only half of the man I used to be. So if you want to leave me behind, if you want to take care of our daughter alone-“

He is forced to stop mid-sentence by the way his little daughter presses her tiny body onto his lap, hugging him as tightly as never before. And your gaze that makes time stand still. Your gaze that isn’t filled with disgust like he imagined.

No, your look holds nothing but love and gratitude.

“You can’t imagine how happy I am to see that you are well. When Shoko called me I thought we’ll might lose you. Kento, I…I love you with all my heart. The thought of letting you go, the thought of never seeing you again. I’m so glad.”

And then you sprint towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck carefully with your loving gaze never leaving him.

All pain seems to vanish, nothing else but you matter. Your eyes always tell the truth, he knows all too well. And right now, they scream at him in nothing put the pureness of love while a tear runs down your smiling delicate mouth.

“Now you look like a hero, daddy”, his daughter mumbles against his chest, smiling up at him so widely that even Kento Nanami can’t hold back any longer.

“Because he is, sweetheart. Your dad is a hero”, you clarify with shaky voice, pressing a kiss against his right cheek.

“You aren’t disgusted? Even though I look nothing like the man you fell in love with an never will?”, you mutters.

Gently, your hand caresses his uninjured cheek.

“Nothing will ever distress my love for you. No scar in the world will stop me from loving you with all my heart. I’m so glad you came back to me alive. Nothing else matters.”

“I think you look cool, daddy!”

A single tear rolls down his cheek. For the first time in his life, he isn’t able to keep his composure any longer. A tear of joy, a tear of gratitude. Of course, Nanami was always very aware of what a wonderful woman you are and how well you cared for his little daughter as well. But oh, seeing both of you with your arms wrapped around him, gazing at him with nothing but love and tenderness in your orbs…

Your eyes never lied at him.

How does he even deserve this? How does a simple man like Kento Nanami deserve such a loving wife and daughter made of pure gold?

“We need a cool name for you now, daddy.”

“Daddy first needs all his energy to get well again, sweetheart. But yes, you are right. After all, every hero has a special name, right?”, you reply, chuckling over your very own falling tears.

“I’m not a hero, darling”, Nanami contradicts, running his hand through his daughter’s hair softly.

“But to me you are, daddy. And to mommy too.”

“Indeed. And when all of this is over, I’ll take you to Malaysia”, you confirm, cuddling against his chest while resting your eyes.

“Malaysia, huh? Sounds great…”

Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96

[genericpuff]

Wait, if Hera hated nymphs, does that mean she had beef with Poseidon's wife???

Who knows, but it does shed a whole new light on this scene from Episode 1:

Like, in the context of the scene, it's clear the point of this interaction is to highlight how "lonely" Hades is that he's the only one at the party without a date. Though I do think it's funny that Hades is frustrated / shocked at the revelation that Poseidon brought his wife to a party that she would presumably be invited to attend, like... of course Poseidon is here with his wife, that makes Amphitrite royalty by extension and so at the very least she'd likely be obligated to attend even if she, for some reason, didn't want to go.

So Hades being like "GOD you mean I'm the ONLY UNMARRIED GUY without a DATE???" like yeah man that's what it means to not be married LOL

But in hindsight, knowing what we know now about Hera being cruel to satyrs and nymphs who are canonically lower class (making it a double whammy of racism AND classism) that interaction of Hades asking Hera if Poseidon brought Amphitrite right after Hera called Minthe "nymph trash" almost feels like Hades calling her out, to which she responds sheepishly, "... Yes."

Again, I know that's not the intention of this scene, but it does come with deeper implications now that the series is over and we know that Hera has a history of racism and classism which largely goes unaddressed.

And those implications kind of read like this:

Hera: "I, for one, am grateful! I don't have to spend the evening with that nymph trash :)"

Hades: "Did Poseidon bring his (oceanid) wife?"

Hera: "(・_・;)... yes, okay, Poseidon brought his wife, Amphritite, but she's not nymph trash or anything, she's one of the good ones!"

Again though, just food for thought that's kinda messed up and kinda funny to think about on re-reads. There's so much classism and racism baked into LO even from the very beginning and it's wild that it wound up going unnoticed for years. Even I didn't really notice it as much as I ought to have when I first started reading. To anyone who's new to the series, LO does a good job at bombarding you with colors, characters, Greek myth references, and feel good fluff moments between H x P to distract you from the often biased and outdated viewpoints in its narrative.

TBH, none of that is to say that Rachel herself is some massive racist for writing a story like this, but I do think she didn't really spend enough time analyzing the works that clearly inspired her and/or challenging her own inspirations to ensure she wasn't continuing the cycle of casual racism. It's really easy to be blissfully aware of your own biases if you never learn to address them, especially when it comes to writing fantasy stories which we tend to "disconnect" from real life, never once realizing that the messages and undertones we might accidentally be sending are often still realities for many people in real life today. Fiction isn't real life, sure, but it can still perpetuate some really dog shit thought patterns and subconscious beliefs if left unchecked, which LO is frankly full of especially upon re-reads with a more critical eye when you're not as likely to get distracted or swept away by the pretty colors and whirlwind romance.

[luveline]

𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐚 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

Hotch touches your face much more than a boss should. Or, 5 times you have a nosebleed +1 time Hotch does.

8k words, a slightly bloody coworkers to lovers, fem!reader, nosebleeds, reader works in the BAU but isn't a profiler, jack is a sweetheart, hotch has game fr, fluff + hurt/comfort

༺༻

You like your desk job. You handle paperwork primarily, and act as a sort of assistant unofficially. Anything to be useful — you get paid either way. It's why you don't mind trying to be helpful in the office and take on some of the office administrator's overflow. 

Today, that's fixing the coffee machines. The office can function on one at a stretch but both being broken means an entire roster of grumpy agents and all of them are on your back. And when they have to see all the stuff they say? You figure fixing the coffee machines is the least you can do. 

You're ignoring the weight of their waiting, elbow deep in one of the machines. The instruction manual had mentioned a little spout that can get clogged with detriment. Hopefully, you can clean it out and get at least one machine working by midday. 

"Oh no," you murmur. 

The piece you're trying to unscrew is tightly wound, too tight for your fingers to work behind. You're probably going to need a small tool, like an allen key. 

"No luck?" Agent Prentiss asks, sounding defeated. 

You look up from the machine and smile quickly. "I need smaller hands," you joke, letting the machine sit back on the counter and pulling out your aching fingers. "I'll have one working by the end of the day, Agent Prentiss. Scout's honour." 

She shrugs and waves a hand at you. "It's alright. What's one day without caffeine?" 

You laugh at her good-natured sarcasm and go back to your machine. When you're certain you can't jimmy it you turn your attention to the second machine and run through the steps. You're too determined to lose. Your coworkers depend on you. 

You start by changing the filter and are unsurprised when that doesn't work. You check the button connectivity, the fuse, and then you turn again to that small piece that needs to be washed. 

"Yes," you cheer under your breath, pulling the piece from its home to assess the problem. 

It's a tiny pipe with a piece of mesh that acts as a sieve to trap dust. Maybe. Whatever it is, it's full of caramelised coffee grounds. You move to the sink basin and turn on the faucet to clean it, washing with anticipation as the burned coffee trickles down the drain. 

You're pleased enough to feel a mild adrenaline rush, and your excitement leads to butter fingers: you drop the prized piece of pipe and it rolls out of sight.

This is not a good time for business casual. 

You tug your too-tight pants from your thighs and bend down in search. When it doesn't reveal itself you get on your knees and run your hands along the seams of the kitchen cabinets, face lowered. 

"Is everything okay?" 

You wince at a very familiar, very unfortunately timed voice. 

"Yes, sir, everything is perfect," you say, looking up to meet the eye of your boss' boss, unit chief SSA Aaron Hotchner. "I've misplaced a piece but I'll have the coffee machine working again in no time. I'm sorry." 

He raises his eyebrows at you. It's a very nice expression on him, his eyes light with an emotion you don't often see on him. "Is fixing the coffee machine in your job description?" he asks. 

You think it might be a polite reprimand. You won't insult him by insisting you're always on time with your actual delegated workload because he and your supervisor have to send you emails asking for missing paperwork all the time, so you try to disarm him. 

You beam. 

You're not a supermodel but everybody is pretty when they smile. "Sir, I thought I could sacrifice my lunch break for the good of the Bureau." 

"Yes, well." He looks like he wants to smile back. You might be seeing what you want to see, though. "That won't be necessary. Take your time." 

Your smile falters as you feel a telling heat at the back of your nose. "Thank you," you say quickly, covering your nostril with the pad of your index finger. 

You're hoping your swift words will send him on his way, but he's literally the lead profiler of the BAU. He knows suspicious activity when he sees it.  

"Is something wrong?" 

Blood starts to trickle down your palm. You slide your hand up to cover your nose the best that you can. The alarm on his face when he spots the blood sliding down your bare forearm can't be understated. 

"It's just a nosebleed," you placate, sounding stuffed up. 

He's a quick thinker, tearing a wad of paper towel off of the dispenser above the microwave and offering it to you.

If you weren't so distracted by your current predicament you'd say thank you. 

He turns back to the paper towels and tears off another wad. To your horror, Hotch bends down right there in the kitchenette and waits for you to open your palm, feeding the towels into your spare hand. 

"Should you tilt your head back?" 

"I think that's a myth," you say. 

Your skin starts to scrawl with embarrassment, the itchy, awful feeling of being pinned by his eyes. 

"How long do they usually last?" 

"Not very long, sir. I'm sure you're busy." 

He tilts his head slightly to one side as if conceding your point. "Let me help you up," he commands. 

You can't make yourself reject his help. Honestly, it's nice to have somebody care even if the nosebleed is purely superficial. His fingers curl around the crook of your elbow and he helps you onto your feet just in time for Agent Prentiss to return.

"Hotch, what did you do?" she asks, bewildered. 

You try not to laugh too much, worried you'll force another burst of blood. 

—

Confidential information. You hear it, you ignore it. Harder to ignore the whiteboards in the conference room that are currently choc-a-block with prints of crime scene photos. 

You don't mean to gawk at them. It's severely unprofessional and you shouldn't really be in here to begin with. The electronic screen is off, as are the monitors, so you know the room isn't in use. 

That could change any second, and it does. 

You hide your clammy palms behind your back at the sound of footsteps and try not to rush obviously toward the mug you'd come in here to collect. 

The door creaks open as you're leaning over the table. 

"I'm sorry," you say without looking. 

"You don't have to clean up after anyone." 

"Actually," you say quietly, abashed at having been caught, "this is my mug." 

You turn to face him. 

Agent Hotchner is tall and handsome. These are two undeniable facts and yet every time you see him it feels like a surprise. It might have something to do with how composed he is, how deliberate his movements are, or it might just be 'cause you have a crush on him. 

It's anybody's guess.

"I can make Reid wash it," he says. 

You're so whipped that your chest confuses his offer for something much worse. Like, he's on your side.

"That's okay, I don't wanna punish him for my own fussiness." You cover the mugs printed sides subtly, or as subtly as you're able. 

"What's special?" 

You smile at him, lips pressed together tight and eyes squinting slightly. You know what he's getting at but you ask anyways, stalling now he's caught you. "About what?" 

"About the mug." 

You peer behind him. 

"You can't tell anyone," you murmur, rounding the table to stand by his side with your shoulders to the door. "I'm not sure anybody knows it's mine." 

The mug is a corn-husk yellow and printed with a scene from a vintage Peanuts comic, dark-haired Lucy standing behind her lemonade stand that boasts 'Psychiatric Help 5¢'. Charlie Brown sits in front of it looking morose. 

It's hard to describe why you like it so much. 

"I see," Agent Hotchner says. 

It's become something of an office joke, offering each other five cents on bad days, calling someone Charlie Brown when they look lost. You doubt very much that anyone is making fun of you, you're just hiding that it's your mug because that's part of the fun. The mystery of the Peanuts mug. 

"I can't drink out of anything else," you confide, turning your face to his. 

He's definitely smiling this time. "Why would you?" 

You nod in genuine delight. "Exactly! Vintage Peanuts, and I searched so much for this because they used to use lead in glassware paint, and-" 

The nosebleed comes on suddenly. There's a drop of blood running down your lips before you've even realised. Agent Hotchner's eyes follow it all the way down. 

"Oh, no," you say, blood dripping to the hill of your chin. 

You use the back of the hand that's holding the mug to catch what's rolling down your neck and the other to pinch your nose closed, bending forward on instinct to hide your face. You're seasoned in nosebleeds. You know how you look — scary. Ridiculous. 

"Here," Agent Hotchner says. 

His hand comes into your eyeline, offering a dark square of fabric. You cringe at the idea of marring his likely expensive handkerchief but you can't not accept, pressing it haphazard to your bloody nose. 

"What were you saying about lead?" 

You're so frazzled about the blood you don't realise he's made a joke until it's too late to laugh.

"Do you know what causes them?" he asks. 

"I'm not really sure, sir. I used to get them all the time as a kid, um…" You pull the handkerchief away from your nose to check if it's still bleeding. When it doesn't continue, you say, "They're pretty harmless. It's done already." 

"If you need time off for a check-up, I'm sure the office administrator can find a sick day for you." 

You smile at him, and then remember the blood and grimace. I must look like Carrie right now, you think morosely. 

"That won't be necessary, sir, thank you. It's apparently the dry air." You're starting to feel more and more warm under his serious gaze. There's a startling amount of concern there. "I'm gonna go clean up now. Excuse me," you say, face glowing with heat. 

"Of course."

You cover your bloody face with the back of your hand, his handkerchief held in red-stained fingers. You pass Agent Prentiss on the stairs, hurrying past her with an I'm okay smile. 

"Hotch, again?" you hear Agent Prentiss ask incredulously. "Where do you get off?"

—

You can't return Hotch's handkerchief, it's a biohazard, but the fabric had felt so soft and the monogram in the corner had cued you in on how expensive it must have been. Your guilt manifests itself into three new handkerchiefs with the embroidered A.H. They aren't half as nice as the one he'd let you ruin. You leave them on his desk — or rather, you get Dr. Reid to leave them on his desk, as walking into his office doesn't feel like something you're allowed to do — and try to forget about them. 

For a week, you do. Agent Hotchner doesn't visit his office, Agent Jareau apprehends him on his way in that morning and the profiling team gather around their round table, and you don't see any of them for four days. The Friday they return, you're already on your way home. 

That's why his actions the following Monday shock you. 

It's unusual that he walks anywhere that isn't a straight shot to his desk. You're doing paperwork for once in your life, sitting awkwardly with your foot hooked under your thigh and a pair of wired earphones in. It's not technically allowed but he really doesn't venture over to you often. You've become complicit in your unsupervised nirvana of a desk job. 

You snatch your earphone out and struggle into a normal position. "Agent Hotchner," you say, wondering if you should call him Special Supervisory, or maybe something cooler, like your Highness. Your grace. He's intimidating in his accomplishments at the FBI, and he's super handsome. 

"Can I see you in my office? Ten minutes." 

You nod brainlessly. 

Your desk buddy doesn't wait long after he's left to investigate. 

"What did you do?" they ask from across the short partition. 

"I really don't know," you say, though you have your suspicions. 

"Were you reading on your computer again? I told you, read under the desk like a normal person." 

"No, I learned my lesson with that one when Agent Morgan started reciting Pride and Prejudice from over my shoulder." 

You check your face in a compact before you report to Agent Hotchner's office. Your heart beats in your throat as you knock his open door. 

"Come in," he says without looking up. 

You take a cautious step. 

He finishes off quickly and lifts his chin. His eyes are dark in the early morning light, his hair in mild disarray from the wind and drizzle. 

"Come in," he says again. 

You wish there was a word that could describe his voice accurately. He talks in the peaceable kind of cadence that comes with hushed tones without truly being hushed. 

"Sir…" You bite the bullet. "If this is about the macadamia cookies, I promise I'll replace them. I didn't actually eat any of them. They kind of fell out of the cabinet and exploded, it was a freak accident." 

He holds up his hand. "Thank you. For the handkerchiefs. They were unnecessary." 

He says 'unnecessary' with a smile. 

"Actually, sir, I think they were entirely necessary." You just disagreed with your boss. "Sir. I couldn't return the first, I ruined it and I- I didn't think you'd want it even if I got it dry cleaned." 

He raises his eyebrows. "It was unnecessary," he repeats, the word drawn out carefully. "But, I appreciate the gesture. Thank you." 

Two thank you's. You stop while you're ahead. "You're more than welcome, Agent Hotchner, sir." 

You share an amicable glance and turn to leave. 

"L/N?" 

You stutter to a halt. "Sir?" 

"Hotch is fine." 

You try not to swallow your own tongue. "Hotch," you say, and then worry that's something people only do in movies. 

A few days later, your humming along to your earphones and wading through the chaos of the bullpen feeling pretty happy. The office has been busy but not in the scary, suffocating way, and you're happy to be here. The BAU can be hard (and that's as someone who isn't on the front line). Times like this are cherished. 

You pause a foot from your desk, eyes creasing into a suspicious squint. 

There's a small box on your desk. 

"What is that?" you ask your desk buddy. 

"What?" they ask.

"That. There's a thing on my desk." 

"Nothing to do with me." 

"Think I should call the bomb squad?" 

"I'm sure you'll be alright. Maybe read the note before you raise the alarm." 

"There's a note?" you mumble, caution swiftly overrun by a burning curiosity. 

You'd be sincerely worried about a bomb, only this is the FBI. If a bomb got this far into the building half the people in it would lose their jobs. You kick your bag under the desk and drop your ipod onto the desk, tinny music blaring from your earphones. 

"What are you?" you ask under your breath. 

The box is wrapped in crepe paper and a yellow sticky note has been attached to the top. 

Rest assured, made without lead. 

That only confuses you more. You're hesitance has your desk mate sitting up in their chair. "Wait," they say, peering over the glass partition, "should I raise the alarm?" 

You slide a trim fingernail under a neat stripe of tape. "No, I think we're good," you mumble. 

And lo and behold, a mug is homed inside. A Peanuts mug no less; the mug has been printed with a Peanuts comic panel. Charlie Brown lays on the floor in a straight plank, and standing overy him is his friend Linus, who says, "I have been asked to tell you that your cries of anguish are keeping the whole neighbourhood awake!" 

You laugh loud and instinctively, shrill enough to attract the attention of half the office. Slapping a hand over your mouth, you slouch down as low as possible in your desk chair. Heat pools in your cheeks. 

"What is it?" your desk mate asks. 

"A present." 

And hence your new favourite mug is brought into life. You write your name on the bottom with black sharpie and continue to deny all knowledge of the first, which you retire to the drawer of your desk. 

For a while your nosebleeds go away. You know exactly who left the mug on your desk, and you remember the joke he'd made. Maybe Hotch had been on to something, and you'd inadvertently poisoned yourself.

You smile practically every time you see your new mug, and you're unsurprised when others appreciate its humour. 

You're not sure how to explain it to an eight year old, though. 

You're slumped over, nose to the desk and hand working diligently across your notes. Having a crush on your boss makes doing your work easier because you're constantly trying to impress him — an impossible task, but trying all the same. Your earphones bump a soft love song, something sweet to cut through the unhappy details of the case file you're working on. 

"What are you listening to?" a small voice asks. 

You drag your gaze up slowly and find Jack Hotchner standing beside your desk. You've seen him in person a few times, and once as Hotch's phone wallpaper, but he grows so much between visits you almost don't recognise him. 

"I'm sorry," you say, pulling your earphone out, "what did you say?" 

"What song are you listening to?" he asks, hands creeping up over the lip of your desk. 

You sit up and smile at him. You can't say he looks like Hotch, though maybe you can see it in his tiny grin, that hint of cheekiness. "I'm listening to a song called At Last. It's a love song. Do you… want to listen?" you offer quietly. 

He nods. 

You push your chair away from your desk and turn down the ipod's volume so it doesn't damage his hearing. "Here," you say, offering one of your earbuds. "Don't push it in, okay? I don't want it to hurt your ears." 

Jack takes the proffered earbud but doesn't seem super interested. "Do you have The Beatles?" he asks. 

"The Beatles! Is that what you and your dad listen to?" 

He nods, pleased, and you nod yourself, flicking through your songs in search of what he wants. 

"I have Here Comes the Sun. Do you like that one?" 

He beams. "Yes! Me and dad sing that one in the car." 

That's a really nice image, Hotch and Jack belting happy lyrics together in the busy mornings. It's also odd. Hotch singing isn't an image you can say you've ever thought of before. 

"I love this one," you tell him, letting your elbows dig into your thighs so the two of you are eye level with one another. 

"Me too." 

You share the earbuds, Jack combing your desk for something interesting no doubt. You cover a case detail that involves some gory images and almost knock over your mug in your haste. 

"What does that say?" he asks, pointing. 

Jack looks between you and the mug for answers. 

You lick your lips. "Uh, do you want me to read it to you?" 

He thinks about it. "Can I try?" 

"Of course you can." 

You clear a path for the mug and place it in front of him. 

"I have been asked to tell you," he begins confidently, "that your cries of an-" He frowns. "Anguish are keeping the whole ne… I don't know that." 

"I'm sure you do, it just looks weird. Neighbourhood." 

"Neighbourhood," he repeats. "Keeping the whole neighbourhood awake." He huffs a boyish, gentle laugh that makes your heart spin. 

"Good job, buddy." 

He melts under your praise. He's a cute kid, and his hair shines golden under the office lighting. It flops to one side as he tilts his head. "What's 'anguish'?" 

"Anguish. Uhm, it's like sadness." 

"Oh." He takes this in. "Do you have Let It Be?" 

You eventually give up your chair and let Jack sit with your ipod in his lap, playing through all The Beatles songs that you have. Nobody seems to be watching you and Hotch has yet to come out of his office and tell you off for supplying his son with technology, so you work around him, leaning over the back of the chair to fill in what's missing from your reports. 

Jack leans back in his chair, his adorable singing coming to a stop. "Do you have movies on the computer?" 

Yes, but should my boss' son know that? "It's for work," you say regretfully. 

"Not even FernGully?"

"I'm sorry." 

He shakes his head. "It's okay, it's not your fault."

"Do you like to draw? I don't have many colours, but we can play a game." 

He smiles for a moment, then hesitation crawls over his features. "Dad says not to disturb anyone." 

"I'm on my lunch break," you assure him. You hadn't been, but you don't mind taking it now. "Are you hungry? I have oranges." 

You and Jack end up sitting under your desk. You really don't mean to end up like that; you sit on your knees because your back has started to ache and Jack wants to sit with you. You can't say no to him. (You could, you just don't want to.)

"What did she say after that?" you ask, fingers digging into two orange segments to pull them apart. You shave off all of the strands of white pith before you pass it to Jack, who says thank you every time. 

"She said to ask Stacy who said to ask Morgan P who said to ask Joan. And Joan said she didn't wanna know, but then she changed her mind after I told her abd she said to ask Cooper." 

"What did Cooper say?" 

"Cooper says he doesn't think he knows where it is." 

You nod, chewing your own orange slice slovenly. "Well, what did your dad say?" 

"I haven't told dad." 

You lift your head from the paper where Jack has drawn an impressive house with five windows. "You haven't told your dad?" 

"He worries about everything." 

"That's his job, Jack. He has to worry about you." 

"He worries about everybody." 

"Some people do." You clean another orange slice for him, and he says thank you again. "You're welcome… Jack, I really think you should tell you dad. It sounds like somebody might have taken your pencil case on purpose. And even if he can't find out who did, he can get you some new pencils for school." 

"I told mom but she hasn't done anything yet." 

Your stomach hurts. 

"Well," you murmur, picking up the green pen, "I'm sure she's trying her best, baby. Can I help colour in these trees?" 

You and Jack fall into a companionable silence, his head bobbing to You Make My Dreams (Come True) the cutest thing you've ever seen. You're not sure how long you sit there, but all good things must come to an end, and your half hour for lunch draws to a close. 

"Hey, Jack?" you say, straightening where you kneel and preparing to stand. "I have some stuff I have to do but you're welcome to stay there." 

Unfortunately, you don't manage to grab his attention. Double unfortunately, somebody else does. 

"Morgan, where's Jack?" 

You peek past your desk chair. A little ways away, Hotch stands looking sick to his stomach, and Agent Morgan looks lost. 

"I didn't have him?" 

"I asked him to sit with you," Hotch says miserably, throwing his gaze over the office. "Jack?" 

Jack hears that loud and clear. Something in his dad's tone must spark some urgency, as he stands in a rush and trips on his own shoelace, smacking the top of his head into your nose. 

You gasp. 

"Ouch," Jack moans. 

Blinking, you shake off your disorientation. "Oh no, are you okay? Here, sweetheart, stand up," you encourage gently, "I'm so sorry, have I hurt your head?" 

Jack's gaze to the floor, he rubs the top of his head with a clumsy hand. "It's okay, Miss Agent, it wasn't you and-" He stares at you. 

"What?" you ask. 

"Dad!" he shouts, backing away from you. "Daddy!" 

Jack runs out of your little alcove and straight into his father's legs, almost bowling him over. Hotch drops two relieved hands down to his small shoulders. "What?" he asks, startled, "What happened?" 

Your nose stings, admittedly, but you've felt worse. It's a light throbbing that distracts you entirely from the blood racing down your lips until you taste it. 

Shit, you think, crawling out from under the desk with one hand, the other clamped over your bleeding nose. Your movement draws Hotch's attention, which in turn gathers at least a quarter of the office's. 

"I didn't mean to," Jack says shrilly. 

"It's okay. It wasn't your fault," you say stuffily, clambering onto shaky legs. 

You turn your head away from the collective gaze of the office and start toward the kitchen and hear at least three different people say, "Wait!" 

You ignore them, using your elbow to help tear off a paper towel from the roll and pushing it without finesse against your face. You squirm under the weight of tens of eyes, more embarrassed than anything else, worse when a warm hand turns you by the shoulder. 

"He really didn't mean to," you say, looking up into Hotch's concerned face. 

"I know." 

"Is he okay?”

"He's not the one with a nosebleed," Hotch says, neither kind nor unkind. 

"I honestly didn't even feel it." 

His fingers curl around your wrist, a slow tightening. "That doesn't surprise me, Y/N." 

You bite your tongue to stop from laughing. “He bumped his head into me." 

"Mm. Just a red mark. It won't even bruise." 

You deflate in relief. "Oh, good." 

Hotch's hands have found their way onto yours. He pulls one from your nose, gaze hardening at the strong river of blood that makes its way into the dip of your cupid's bow. 

"I'm sorry, sir." 

He shakes his head and gathers another wad of tissue paper, a light blue that quickly turns to a wine dark when he presses it to your face. Your heart hammers at his proximity, a thousand and one nerves aflame. 

He's close but not too close, nothing anyone could mistake for something else, and still it feels like a strangely intimate moment. His careful touches. He directs your hand to hold a fresh paper towel to the stream of blood and discards the bloody tissue. You watch him push up his sleeves carefully and give his hands a quick rinse in the sink before he dampens another paper towel. 

It's cool against your neck. 

"I think your shirt is ruined," he says, dabbing at a line of dried blood. 

You shiver at the feeling of cold water dripping under your starched collar.

"Does it hurt?" he asks, moving up to your jaw. 

You don't know how to admit it to him. No, it doesn't hurt. Your hands are really warm, and you're touching me so gently I can barely feel it. 

"A little." 

"Well, Jack is very sorry." 

"He doesn't have to be. He tripped, he…" You fade off as Hotch lays his hand across your cheek, thumb lifting your head slightly so he can clean your chin. 

"How are you faring?" he asks. 

You pull your tissue away and wait for the tell-tale heat of continued blood flow. You're ashamed to admit it but you're almost glad it hasn't stopped, Hotch's hand warm and large and impossibly comforting. Nosebleeds don't stress you out, exactly, but it's not fun to be covered in your own blood at work where everyone can see you. It's nice to have somebody wiping it away. 

"I think I'll live," you say. 

—

Jack sends you an apology card. 

It's hand delivered. Hotch is coming up to the BAU main floor as you're heading out. Like a rock dividing a river, his teammates stream from the elevator around you and Hotch remains inside. 

"I'll catch up," he promises. 

Agent JJ raises her eyebrows. Agent Morgan chuckles. 

You draw in on yourself self-consciously. You don't dress as nicely when he isn't here, and today you're rivalling Dr. Reid for most lovable dork in a pair of brown pants and a big sweater. Teetering the line between professional and unprofessional. 

"Sir," you greet, stepping into the elevator.

He presses the ground floor button. "I have something for you." 

Your eyebrows jump up high. Hotch unzips the main zipper of his duffle back and threads between clothes and papers for a smaller envelope. 

"It's for you." 

You accept, careful not to tear the thin sheet of folded paper as you pull it free. You're thrilled to see a drawing of Charlie Brown on the front, crudely drawn but clearly him with his head-wrapped in bandages. His puppy Snoopy sits beside him with something in his hands. You're not sure what. 

The inside is even sweeter. 

To Y/N

I am sorry if I made your nose angwished. Please feel better soon 

Love, Jack Hotchner. 

"Oh, I love it," you say, rubbing your thumb over a heart drawn in red crayon. "He's really something else, Hotch. He's brilliant, and so smart. I mean, anguished." 

He laughs and it twists your chest in five different directions. "He is." 

"It wasn't his fault though. If my nose weren't so sensitive it really wouldn't have bled at all, I didn't bruise. How is he? Did his head feel better?" 

The doors open. You hesitate, waiting for his reply. 

"Children are made of harder stuff than we are," he says. 

You step backwards out of the elevator. "I felt so bad. I don't suppose he'll want to come and sit with me again." 

"Actually," Hotch says, stepping out of the elevator just as the doors close again, "he thinks you're, uh, in his own words, the 'coolest friend' I've ever had." 

"Friend," you repeat with a smile. 

You've focused on the wrong word, and you worry an awkward silence will ensue, but Hotch steps up to the plate and says, "Yeah. He wouldn't stop telling me about all the cool songs you have on your ipod." 

"Purely for non-working hours." 

"Right." His smile says that he's seen straight through you. 

You're thinking maybe he likes what he sees. 

"This is really amazing," you reaffirm, pressing Jack's card to your chest. 

"He felt guilty." 

"He doesn't have to. Please, tell him I said thank you. And that he's amazing. And that my nose was being dramatic." You smile softly. "He can sit with me whenever he likes." 

"Maybe at the desk, next time, rather than under it."

"Yes, sir." 

You nod at him and he nods back, and you take it as a dismissal, turning on your heel. You've barely walked a metre when he's speaking up.

"Y/N?" 

You look at him from over your shoulder. "Yeah?"

"Are you hungry?" 

You bite your cheek in a hurry to answer, “Yeah. I’m starving.”

Your heart is basically a ticking time bomb in your chest as you and Hotch make your way into the heart of the city. He's a fast walker with long legs and you rush to keep up. That’s totally why you’re breathless. Not because he makes you nervous. 

Hotch is a really surprising guy, though maybe he isn’t surprising at all, you’re simply unversed in how he is outside of work. He talks more and his voice grows louder the further into the city you go, more expressive. 

You’re no profiler, but you’d bet money on Aaron Hotchner being nervous.

Good thing you’re nervous, too. 

“It’s not far now. You like Thai?” he asks. 

“Yeah, of course. Have you ever had Tom Yum?”

“With shrimp?” 

“Exactly.”

“I think I’ve tried it. I lived off of pad Thai when I was a prosecutor,” he says, head tilting back very slightly. His Adam’s apple works under the skin. 

He looks back down, a sheepishness to his voice as he continues, “A lot of late nights.”

“More than now?” you ask skeptically.

His laugh is low and warm. “No. The firm was much closer to the city than the bureau. It’s a long walk.”

“It is,” you say, taking a small step closer to his side to share a secret smile, “but it hasn’t felt that way tonight.”

You try to keep it light. You don’t want to scare him off. 

“No,” he agrees. “It hasn’t.”

You duck into a fragrant Thai restaurant and order fast, the two of you knee to knee in the very corner. A potted plant threatens to blind him every time he moves, and so he endeavours to stay very still. 

The food's a little on the spicy side, and while you're laughing you can't find it in you to feel embarrassed about your runny nose. 

"You didn't like Seinfeld?" you ask, and how you got here's a mystery, but Hotch is extremely passionate about it in the best way. 

"No, of course not. How could you? George was always worrying about something, he was the definition of a self-fulfilling prophecy and he never learned!" he debates, all in a rush, chopsticks moving in emphasis. 

You snort and wipe your nose again. "It was like a relief, though, that it was happening to him and not to you, you know? You might be having a bad day but George Costanza's having a worse one." 

"Oh, honey," he says. 

It takes you a second to realise that he's talking to you. 

"What?" you ask, perplexed. 

Hotch stands up though there's no space for it, chopsticks ditched and hand pushed into the recesses of his pocket swiftly. He pulls out a small packet of tissues, and he lifts his chin, a jut. You lift your own, and he's quick to press the tissue to your nose. 

"It's bleeding?" you ask, startled. 

"Just a little." 

"Sorry." 

"No, no," he says, bent down, a comforting hand around your shoulder, "don't be. It gives me an excuse." 

"To do what?" 

"To be this close." 

Your smile is a slow, molasses thick thing. You can't get a handle on it, and Hotch's answering one is worse. He looks so happy to be here with you, to be wiping your bloody nose. 

It's only a small nose bleed. Hotch pulls the tissue away once or twice to check, wiping at it tenderly and giving you a comforting squeeze each time. The silence feels natural as breathing. 

"There," he says eventually, pulling the bloodied tissue away with a smile. "All done." 

"Thank you, Hotch." 

"I'd think you'd better start calling me Aaron, considering."

"Considering what?"

His hand climbs from your shoulder to the column of your throat. He doesn't make you wait any longer, leaning down with a sure, brave deliberateness. He presses his lips to yours. 

A sweet kiss but too short — barely two seconds and he's taking a half-step away, your lips tingling in want. 

You go to stand and he pushes you down into your seat, not unkindly. "I'm gonna go see if I can get some hot water for you," he says, placating your gutted look with a kiss to your cheek. 

He wipes it thoughtlessly with the pad of his thumb before he goes. 

You're genuinely surprised your nose doesn't start bleeding again at the look he gives you as he turns the corner toward the restaurant's kitchen. Protective, knowing. Your heart races in your chest. 

You probe at your face, elated. Your sensitive nose is good for something after all. 

—

The first time you sleepover with Aaron is an accident. You don't "mess around," as you'd crooned over the phone, joking but with enough salaciousness to make him smile. The gas and hot water had stopped working in your apartment, and though the landlord had promised they'd fix it the very next morning, Aaron couldn't stand to think about you cold and alone when you could easily be warm and with him. 

So here you are. 

"Are you sure this is okay?" you whisper, peering over his shoulder at Jack. 

His son stands in the living room in his pyjamas.  

"It's okay," he says, "I asked him, and you know he's obsessed with you. His one condition is that you watch FernGully." 

"FernGully," you say, enthused. 

"You'll like it." 

You actually really do. Showered and dressed in your own pyjamas, a little shy but not too much to stop from laying against his side on the sofa. He's got one arm around you and one around Jack but he might as well be invisible, the two of you talking in murmurs across his chest. 

"And that's-" 

"Pips," Jack supplies helpfully. 

"Pips," you say, hand spread over Aaron's chest. 

If he didn't know better he'd think this was a slice of heaven. 

"So many people," you whisper in Aaron's ear. 

"More in the second one." 

"There's two?" 

After the movies finished — "It was better than you said, Jack," — and dinner’s been eaten and cleared away, Aaron takes Jack to bed. 

"Do you want a story?" Aaron asks, flitting around the room in a half-hearted attempt to square away the mess. 

"No." 

"You sure?" 

Jack's eyes are heavy, and they have been since dinner. "Yes," he mumbles, face turned into his pillow, hands lax on top of his blanket. 

Aaron smiles and makes his way to Jack's side. He kisses his son's cheek, and strokes the soft hair from his face. He smells like strawberry toothpaste and kids shampoo. 

You're sitting on the end of the bed when he gets to you, face damp with skincare and shining in the light. Aaron kisses you without touching it, worried he'll mess it up. 

“He’s wiped. All the excitement,” he says. 

“Excitement- From me?” you ask. 

“From you.” He puts his hands carefully either side of your neck.

You haven’t been dating very long, and still he knows how easy it is to fluster you. And while he loves to see it, see you giddy and shy, blinking at nothing like there’s a light shining in your eyes. He’d once pressed his thumb with the very faintest of pressure into your windpipe while kissing you, and you hadn’t been able to look him in the eye for three days. 

He loves that, but he’d prefer if you slept facing him. He wants to see what you look like asleep, as odd as it sounds, he assumes you’ll be beautiful. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were more. 

“Aaron,” you whisper. 

“What?”

“Want me to massage your bad shoulder?”

He wonders, as he thinks is more than allowed, if that’s a seduction trick, but you genuinely just give him a massage, as you have a couple of times in his office after noticing how sore it gets now the weather’s cold. 

You rub into the problem spot carefully, sighing with sympathy. “Oh, baby,” you say, more to yourself than him. 

He fucking loves the way you say it. Aaron’s never been called baby like that — like it’s his name, and it’s sweet to say. Your tired yawns warm the back of his neck as you go. He doesn’t think he’s getting lucky tonight, and he doesn’t care one bit. He feels pretty lucky just having you near. 

He gets you under the covers before you can fall asleep against his back and makes sure you know how grateful he is for the massage with two kisses. The first is a genuine thank you and the second is to make you laugh, nipping and playful under your jaw. 

Aaron falls asleep thinking about it. 

He wakes to something much less idyllic. 

It’s that strange feeling. Being a dad has honed it, but he’s always had it. It’s one of the things that makes him so good at his job, a prickling at the back of his neck. At first he can’t pin it down. 

Your waist rises under his hand with your breathing. He remembers that you’re there and smiles contentedly, hand sliding behind your back to pull you in. You’d fallen asleep on your back, and you’ve turned toward him in your sleep. 

The metallic stick of blood is sudden and sharp in his nose. He knows what it is before he opens his eyes. The room is dark, lit only by the red light of his alarm clock on the nightstand. His eyes ache with fatigue, and he knows in his gut that it’s too early to get up. 

Blood pools under your nose. Not a lot, nothing to panic over, but blood all the same. He sits up, quickly turns on his bedside lamp, and rouses you as gently as he can, a hand slid under your shoulders to drag you up. 

You blink blearily. “What?” you ask, voice scratchy. 

“Nosebleed,” he informs, pinching your nose before blood can slink down your neck and ruin your pyjama shirt. 

You wince and he hates the way you flinch away from his touch, your clouded confusion. It’s only a second but it doesn’t sit right with him. 

“Sorry, honey.”

You catch hold of his bicep and blink some more. 

“You okay to pinch it yourself? I’ll go grab some tissue paper.”

You nod robotically and replace his light pinching with your own, much less kind. He rushes to grab a roll of toilet paper from the bathroom, and when he returns you've pulled yourself into an alert sitting position, awaiting his return. 

He tears you off a wad of paper. “Here, honey.”

“I think it’s stopped.”

“Yeah? Let me grab you a towel.”

Back to the bathroom. When he returns for the second time you’re holding his given toilet paper against your face. He’s alarmed to find your eyes glassy with tears, shimmering in the bedroom light. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks softly, sitting across from you. 

He’d been right about sleepy you. You look lovely, a little funny with your rumpled pyjamas, and now quite sad because of your tears. “Honey,” he says again, pulling your hand from your face so he can assess the damage, “you’re okay. Is it hurting?”

You’ve told him before the nosebleeds are painless, but maybe they’re a symptom of something, maybe you’re sick—

“I ruined your pillow,” you mutter. 

Ah. That’s much better than your being sick. He can work with that easily. 

“You didn’t ruin anything.”

He takes your chin between his thumb and his forefinger to lift your head. The blood has stopped already; your nosebleeds are often a whirlwind, over by the time you’ve started panicking. 

“I’m sorry.”

He drops your bloodied tissue into his lap and brings the dampened towel to your face. He’s cautious. Your nose gets irritated and any roughness could disrupt the blood clot or agitate the anterior blood vessels inside. 

“You think I’m mad over a pillow?”

“No, of course not.” 

You sound stuffy. It’s adorable. Adorable and sad. He rubs the hill of your chin in a show of affection. 

“Then why?”

“Sorry, I think I’m just tired. I- I was trying to make tonight perfect because,” — a small tear bumps down your cheek — “it’s our first night together even if it was accidental.”

He dabs at your upper lip and the wet blood there with a smile growing. “It was perfect. It is perfect. You getting a nosebleed on a seven dollar pillow doesn’t change that.” His hand moves to your cheek, squashing your baby tear. “You know I love any opportunity to touch you… Now, do you want a glass of water?”

You close your eyes and lean your face heavily into his palm. “Can I have one of those kisses from earlier?”

“Can you keep your blood inside your body?” he asks with a smile, rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

“Depends how hard you bite me.”

He’s very, very gentle.

—

+1

Aaron breaks his nose. You are not supposed to know that he breaks his nose, only he breaks it so bad that he has to go to the hospital to get it set, and he decides he’d like you there. 

Technically, somebody else broke his nose. The details aren’t important. What matters is that Aaron makes a rookie mistake and he has to deal with the consequences, which is a biting, aching pain behind his eyes and a trip to the ER. He does not let them take him in an ambulance, and it really isn’t urgent. He sits in a waiting room chair with a stiff back and it doesn’t take long before you’re striding inside looking terrified. 

“Hey, baby,” he says, testing it out. He doesn’t really like it. 

“What did they give you?” you ask, bending at the waist to take his face into your kind hands. 

“Vicodin when I got here.”

“Lucky you.” You turn his face in your hands. 

“You look beautiful,” he says. 

“I wish I could say the same, but somebody messed you up bad.”

He laughs and takes your face into his hands, the two of you smiling way too much for the situation that you’re in. “I was so worried,” you say with a little laugh. 

He kisses you soundly. It hurts, but it’s worth it. 

They call his name not long after and a nurse takes you both into a grey examination room. The doctor is a short, stern woman who has to use a stool to reach Aaron’s face, and she sets his nose with a swiftness that even he manages to recognise for the brutality that it is in his drug haze. 

You hold his hand. He has to try very hard not to crush your fingers. 

It starts bleeding immediately. 

Aaron meets your gaze over the doctor's head, eyes wide and in similar fashion as your own, and he knows it’s an adverse reaction to shocking pain but he starts giggling. Aaron Hotchner doesn’t giggle, really. He laughs, and sometimes when he’s with Jack that laugh can get super loose and high, but this is a bona fide giggle. 

You try to gasp in shock but you’re laughing too. “Aaron,” you reproach.

He holds his breath as the doctor presses gauze to his face. 

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he says.

You snicker behind your hand. The doctor presses gauze to his face and rolls her eyes. She likely does not get paid enough. 

“You’re still handsome,” you say giddily. 

“Oh, well that's good.”

There’s a small silence rife with tension, and when it breaks it bursts like a dam. You laugh so hard you end up clinging to his arm, chest pressed to his bicep. He strokes the back of your head with a wobbly hand, wondering how miserable he’d be if you weren’t here with him right now. 

“What happened to keeping all your blood inside your body, Hotchner?” you ask, delighted. 

He beams at you dopily. “I’ve never been any good at that.”

You kiss his forehead. The doctor is furious. 

༺༻

[easy-there-leftovers]

Magnum Opus Ch. 2

When an MIT prodigy on their gap year is contacted by the FBI regarding potential involvement in a series of murders in Washington D.C., she must now cooperate to uncover how paintings are mysteriously appearing at the crime scenes.(Written with Season 1-4 Spencer in mind, but the timeline could be anywhere pre-season 12. No mentions of past cases)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Artist! reader|cw: Canon-typical violence|word count: 2.6k words

Notes: I made up a bunch of chemicals and their chemical properties up so shhhh!! Also, I'm not American, I have no contextual understanding of the distance of one place to another. The US is large enough.

Also on Ao3!!

Series Masterlist

“Anything new?” Rossi asked as he and Prentiss returned from the crime scene, making his way into the space the MPDC made for the BAU. Surveying the area as he does before stopping abruptly.

“Forensics are running tests on her stuff. She brought everything in. Apparently she didn’t know anything about the murders before we interrogated her.” Morgan shifts his weight from leaning against a desk to approaching  JJ who motions for his help across and out of the room.

“And she’s here with us in the room, why?”

 Hotch feels the scrutiny of his friend’s eyes, so he turns his sight away from where you and Reid stood. 

“Reid doesn’t think she fits the profile and wants her insight on the case. I trust his judgment, so I allowed it.”

“You said that?” Emily asks with furrowed brows. 

“Well, non-verbatim, I said that her knowledge on–”

“And you allowed our prime suspect to help with a case?” The unit chief sighs when Dave interrupts Reid but stays firm.

“I don’t enjoy the idea of it either, but she’s the only lead we have.” 

Rossi shrugs, but keeps a watchful eye on the young pair. Only turning away when Emily starts to debrief the earlier crime scene.

She recounts that they had found Jonathan Edwards’ body, aged 28, seated on the previous apartment owner’s couch. One hand across his chest, and the other placed on his lap. A pose that they assume was the closest their unsub could get to mirroring the man in the painting. 

Same M.O. Cleaned wounds, no IDs, sharply dressed. 

The dark haired woman adds the pictures of the crime scene to the growing collage on the board.

 Seeing all of this was like a backstage view, which excited you! But knowing that your work might have inspired someone to kill? Not so much. 

“When you look at the victimolgy, there are no obvious links. Their occupation, race, and gender are all different. Our unsub here seems mission oriented, only targeting people that bear a striking resemblance to Dr. L/n’s subjects and murdering them in their own homes…”

 You sigh as Spencer continues, eyes searching though the unsettling images.

“They’re someone that the victims might’ve been interested in. Someone that could contact them or schedule to meet in a formal setting. The victims weren’t reported missing until they didn’t show up for work, suggesting that they had met in private on their off hours. They’re also highly educated, likely with a background in chemical engineering or a related field with permission to operate in a lab. Or at least a private space like one. This level of intelligence is evident in the precision the bodies were handled with and the synthesized 5-durastelene in the paint.”

“So we’re looking for someone who is charismatic, well connected, and had access to a lab at some point.” Emily simplifies. 

“Their area of activity is concentrated in the east.” You mention, looking at the map and noticing the pattern of the bodies’ location as it crosses three states. “That’s probably their comfort zone. They either live there or are stationed there for their job.”

You assess the distance. “Assuming the place those three were killed and the place they were found are different, he must be comfortable traveling with a body.” 

He shifts his focus from the board to you, but you keep your vision stationary. “Do you know anyone like that? Someone from there that you’d be on unfriendly terms with? A colleague, a mentor?” 

Well that caught your attention.

“...You think they’re trying to incriminate me?” You feel the space between your brows twitch when you ask. Still staring at the map.

He frowns a little at that and responds. “Do you think they’re not?”

“Well–” You start, but then feel nervous feeling all the attention on you. You’re a little overwhelmed, but press on anyway. “I’m not saying that, it just—seems like a few ‘why’s’ are missing.” 

Why bother adding a painting? Why bother even making them? Why bother mixing durastelene, a compound that would definitely alter the paint’s integrity given its properties, to replicate something the public wouldn’t even know you made? All questions you asked with a more steady tone.

“Let’s not get carried away, kid. We’re trying to see the big picture first.” The senior in the room says.

Picking at the skin of your lips, you acquiesce and turn to finally look at Spencer. 

Spencer feels his eyes flick to your fingers first then to your eyes. “I think they’re trying to send you a message.” 

He looks back to the pictures of your paintings on the scene. Trying to see if he’s missed something.

 “They might believe that by recreating your work, they’re challenging you– establishing a level of superiority. You said that no one should have access to your paintings, so this must have been someone that once knew you intimately and is now mocking you to make a point. It’s not just about incrimination—they’re trying to reach out to you.”

You feel the space between your brows twitch again.

You can think of a few people who might dislike you; competition is expected in the academic world. But the obvious signs of fixation on you suggests two possibilities: you're either being seen as a rival or as an idol.

It’s unlikely that anyone sees an unemployed PhD student with burn-out syndrome as a worthy rival. 

And something tells you that if they really wanted to place the blame on you, they wouldn’t go this far, in this way. 

They might as well have left a note with your name on it and that would’ve been more believable.

Then again, you could just be wrong 

You’re in a room full of professionals. You’re speculating based off of a theory that might not be applicable to your situation due to a variety of factors. There’s a reason this is their job and not yours. 

You take this thought in stride with a deep intake of breath and now slackened shoulders before responding with a careful nod.

“If that’s the case, then I think it’ll be a little hard to find someone that meets the criteria. I didn’t really have friends when I graduated from MIT, and even if I did, they wouldn’t know about my art—not because I kept it hidden–! It’s only because I started painting when I left.”

The team looked a bit sad at the revelation of your almost non-existent social circle, but quickly acted like what you said was normal.

“Let’s focus on anyone that you had worked closely with then.” You nod at that and start discussing possibilities.

—-------------

Spencer is thankful for Hotch’s suggestion as it diverts the earlier attention away from him. He wouldn’t have minded it at any other time if he wasn’t too preoccupied with thoughts of you.

Thoughts of you with regards to the case, he finds himself justifying to no one in particular.

Everyone has tells. A gesture, a change in posture, nonverbal cues that give someone away. They’re hard to hide because it's in human nature to have them. Trying to keep them hidden is essentially like holding your breath. Suspending the inevitable will only make the tells much more noticeable.

And you don’t seem to be doing that. 

On the contrary, it’s the presence of your micro reactions that are throwing him off. He has noticed five pauses, four instances of rapid eye movement, three tonal deviations, two quirks in your glabella, and now your previously leveled shoulders have dropped. 

Maybe it’s because he’s spent a lot of time with people who try to hide them, but seeing an overwhelming amount of tells manifest in you has him scrambling to figure out what each one means.

Within the two hours and 33 minutes that have passed since he was allowed into your home, the only thing he’s found out about you through your interactions is that you’re disorganized, you’re insecure about your intelligence, and that you don’t like being called doctor. 

All superficial quirks. Two hours is too long a time for him to have only figured three things out. 

He’s missing something. Or maybe he’s not looking at it from the right angle.

Before he can think more on the matter, his mind refocuses on the team. 

Penelope had called them to say that she had gone through lists of attendees from all the conferences you’ve spoken at, both private and open-house events, at Aaron Hotchner’s request. 

“I was able to pick out a few names that are poking around here and there, but I’m going to need a little more than that, my dear comrades! Sifting through names of geeks isn't really my favorite pastime.”

“Pen, narrow down the list to names from MIT. We’re looking for a student from the Chemistry programs or a lecturer that might have access to a lab.” Emily supplied, leaning onto the table where the blonde was on screen. 

“Doing just that and—oh! Would you look at that! Looks like the tools aren’t as diligent as they claim to be.” The mocking tone in her voice causes a small smile to creep on your face.

“Caltech?” The bubbly woman snorts at that.

“Anyone in their right mind knows it’s the superior choice! Tech geeks hate MIT.”

“Don’t let our tools hear you then, we have a history of going nuclear.” That certainly earned you a giggle from the woman on the other end. 

“There’s a sense of humor I can get behind! We–”

“Garica, focus.” Hotch said with urgency.

“Yes–I will! I am! So focused in fact that I’ve got a few names, but only one is super consistent—Lecturer Dr. Annaliese Andrews! Looking up this nerd as we speak and—!” 

You all heard the hitch in her breath.

“Oh no….”

“Garcia, what did you find?”

The BAU and you were silent for a moment before Penelope composed herself. “Dr. Andrews owned a lab near the Charles’ river.” 

She shows its location on screen and a picture of your mentor, Dr. Andrews with a notebook in hand, posed in front of it. The picture was from her social media update, and it couldn’t have been taken more than a year or two ago.

“She built it herself in the 80’s and maybe she wasn’t keeping up with safety protocols but eventually a fire broke out, and she–” Then you see a news headline of the same lab on fire.

“How long ago was this?” Hotch demanded. This got the attention of everyone in the room. 

“Uh,” Penelope sat in her office, frantically typing until an article showed up. “This happened around nine months ago, but it says here that her next of kin decided to keep the property.”

They’ve found a stressor.

“That’s impossible.” You countered. “Dr. Andrews had no family. No husband, no kids.”

“Who is the property under now?” Rossi pressed. 

Muttering under her breath, she continues to search. 

“Says here a month later, a workshop was built right where the lab was– Aha! It’s under 35 year old Liam Turner, freelance photographer. He’s got a studio on Bay State Road.” 

Penelope pulls up an image of an almost unremarkable looking man on screen along with a scan of his BA in Visual Studies from Harvard.

“What the hell…” You don’t recognize this guy at all. 

“Do you know him?” Hotch asks and you say no with a shake of your head and upturned brows.

“Right now, I’m not seeing a connection between these two either—anything you guys can give me?”

You want to interject. Something about him seems familiar, but you don’t recognize him from anywhere. 

You want to ask— no–it wouldn’t be your right. They can figure this out themselves and you're still a suspect! Besides, you’re not even sure if– 

“Do you want to say something, Y/n?”

Your head shoots to the voice and you see Spencer staring back at you. Mouth slightly open which lets you know the question probably came from.

 Maybe it’s because he used your given name, maybe it’s the heavy feeling in your stomach. But regardless, his question certainly makes space for you to voice your thoughts as the room awaits your reply.

You feel your shoulders tense as you speak. “Was his name in the list of attendees?”

Garcia checks quickly but she shakes her head to say no. You thought so.

You ask a different question. “Then uh, can you pull up surveillance footage at any of the conferences?”

She does just that and presents a split-screen video from a month before you graduated. One camera was stationed at the back of the room, and the other overhead from where you stood. She speeds it up as the team watches not much movement until Spencer points something out with a start.

 He gestures to the upper right corner where a lone camera man stands on the side, and asks their tech analyst to zoom in.

There lied the face of the man from earlier search with a camera in hand. The thing that makes him special though, Spencer says, is that based on the angle he was holding the lens at, he was focusing only on you and not on your projection.

“He was in the room, but not in the list.” He furrowed his brows.

You shook your head. “He probably wasn’t an official attendee, someone that a lecturer could’ve requested the assistance of last minute— anyways, can we see where the pictures he took were used? Like articles, tabloids?”

“Absolutely, just give me a second…” You all watch a bunch of sites pop up as Garcia combs through anything that may be related. 

In no time however, she comes across a website. 

There on the screen, for all of the team to see, was a blog, or maybe a portfolio, that had snippets from interviews, headlines, and pictures that featured you. Nothing out of the ordinary, but it looks like any image of you that would show up if you were googled were credited under him. 

Conferences. Campus surveys. Even candid conversation with school representatives.

Penelope digs deeper until she finds the first upload. A picture of a sunset taken somewhere on a bridge with a notebook and pen on its ledge. Though it might not have been enough for most people to recognize, Spencer notices it immediately. 

“Garcia, can you pull up the picture of Dr. Andrews with her lab?”

She does just that and he only needs one look before he turns to address his colleagues. “The notebook is the same! His initials, ‘L.T.’ are on her notebook cover, and this picture!”

And as much as you wished you could sympathize with Spencer’s excitement, you were feeling very overwhelmed at the moment. 

Case and point; first you find out your mentor is dead, then you find out you have a stalker that possibly hates your guts. Find out that said stalker may or may not be related to said mentor, who may or may not hate you, and now you have to digest the possibility of him being a murderer as some sort of vengeance arc?

You shake the thought away.

The tie between him and the victims is still something you don’t get. Clean wounds,  no IDs, sharply dressed.

 So you ask.

“Any chance the victims visited Turner’s studio before they disappeared?”

Analog photo developers have no problem working with a lot of chemicals, and IDs are commonly taken for legal confirmation, you share with the team. The only reason they’d be dressed like that was if–

“They—-all booked an appointment with him.”

You almost regret asking.

--------

taglist: @littlewolfieposts, @hiireadstuff, @bibissparkles, @honestlyatotalloser, @r-3dlips, @suzysface , @pinkpantheris , @resistanythingbuttemptation , @pastafairyy , @lynnar-moon , @andromeda-kay , @darling006 , @mambolaxa , @potatovoyager , @whenmypartysover , @oi-oikawa-tooru , @kniselle , @astreaaries , @fullsuns-stuff

[cowgurrrl]

Something in the Orange

Pairing: Joel Miller x art teacher!reader

Author's note: this might become a mini series idk idk

Summary: A parent-teacher conference leads to trouble [4.0k]

Warnings: no outbreak! au, teacher things, Ellie being a little loner, Joel the Menace making a return, Joel gets both his daughters in this one because it's what he deserves, flirty flirt, i think that's it???

You feel like you've been running a million miles a minute since you got in this morning. The second you could unlock the door, at least three students spilled into your room and chaotically ran to the kiln to collect their most recent pottery projects. One of them ended up shattering (the exact one you warned Colin about, but he didn't listen), and, as per high school custom, they were all screaming about it. You consoled the students just in time for your principal to walk by and ask about lesson plans which made you scramble through your backpack for your notebook even though you knew damn well there wasn't a single lesson plan in there. "Do you always have those lights on?" Principal Martinez asked, gesturing to the room's fairy lights and orange lamps. Leave it to administration to want to avoid art classrooms so much that they don't even know about the Big Light Philosophy. 

Since then, it's been class after class. You only have one more period before your planning period and then, finally, the end of the day. There are a hundred things to do, but you can't focus on any of them. You got so caught up in managing your classroom and helping students with the hardest parts of their portfolio work that you almost forgot you had a parent meeting scheduled during your planning period. 

Calling in parents for meetings about their children may be your least favorite part of your job. It makes you feel like a bad teacher, and parents usually don't feel great about getting called in on a workday to talk about their kid. Luckily, Ellie's dad, Joel, seemed more than happy to take time to talk about her. You rack your mind for his occupation as you add some detail to a canvas you've been hiding in your office and working on when you can. Was he a blue-collar worker? Or was he another stuck-up Austin transplant parent who's gonna accuse you of lying? He'd make the fifth parent who's made you cry this semester.

A knock on your locked door pulls you from your thoughts, and you quickly put away your painting before answering the door. "I told you she was in here!" One of your students, Dina, announces as she and a posse of three other kids you don't recognize push their way into the room. "Miss, you've gotta take that thing off your door; otherwise, people are gonna think you went home!"

"You mean the sign that says, 'planning period. Do not enter?'" You ask, and she snaps her fingers.

"That's the one." She says as she and her friends start putting their backpacks down at one of your high tables. You sigh and kick the door stopper into the threshold.

"You guys can't stay here. I have a meeting in five minutes."

"With who?"

"None of your business." 

"Miss!" Dina acts wounded, and you cross your arms over your chest, your keys jingling around your neck in the process.

"I am an adult with a college degree and the debt to show for it. You are a teenager with a still-developing brain. You have to listen to me," you say. "Wait, whose class are you supposed to be in right now?"

"Mr. Flynn's."

"Guys!" You groan before walking over to your desk and quickly writing up a hall pass for them. "I know you don't like math-"

"No, we don't like Mr. Flynn." Dina cuts you off.

"Or math!" One of her friends adds, and you shoot them a (loving) disapproving look. 

"Whatever you don't like, you can't keep hiding out here. Mr. Flynn is two seconds away from trying to get me fired for how often I let his kids in here during class, and I actually like this job, so," you rip the hall pass off the pad and hand it to Dina. As they pack their stuff up, a tall, bearded man steps into your classroom and makes eye contact with you. "Out, out, out! I love you. You're gonna change the world one day, but please get out." You blow them kisses as you usher them out of the room. 

"Are you Ellie's art teacher?" He asks, a confused look on his face, and you nod.

"Yes, I am. Sorry about that. They're still figuring out that I have work to get done even when I don't have a class," you explain, a little breathless from running all over the place and getting caught off-guard. You really do try to act a little more professional with parents, but the kids threw you off. The kettle whistling behind your desk doesn't make it any better. "Is there anything I can get you? Coffee? Tea?" You pick up a random mug off your desk but find it full of murky water. "Paint water?"

"Are you allowed to have an electric kettle in here?" He asks, and you laugh nervously as you find a clean mug and your tea box. 

"I won't tell if you won't." You say. He stands there awkwardly as you pour yourself some tea, and you realize you didn't pull a chair up for him. "Um, we can sit..." you glance around your messy classroom until you find a clear table and gesture toward it. "Here." He follows your lead, and you take a deep breath as you sit down.

"You gonna be okay?" He asks, the hint of a smirk on his lips. His curly hair looks golden brown in the low light, and his round eyes have a little knowing twinkle. You take another breath to compose yourself and nod. 

"Yes. Sorry. It's been a long day." 

"Don't worry bout it. I'm sure they run you ragged."

"Is it that obvious?"

"Well, you do have paint in your hair." He says, and panic seizes in your chest. You're never more aware of how crazy your job can be until you meet Real Adults. Even if you can't remember what he does for a living, you still have to admit that you look a little silly next to each other: you, with your paint-stained sunflower dress and markered hands, and him, with his black shirt and jeans. He doesn't have any apparent stains or splatters on his clothes, but he's broad with thick biceps. He must work with his hands or something within that capacity. You clear your throat and try to get back on track with the meeting.

"Uh, so Mr. Miller, the reason I called you here today was to talk to you about Ellie," you start. "First, I just wanna say that she is an amazing student. She always does her work and engages thoughtfully with the material. I really do enjoy having her in class." 

"Well, that's certainly good to hear. She talks a whole lot bout this class and you, so... it's nice to place a face to the name," he says, adjusting his position on the stool. "But I have a feelin' you didn't call me down here just to tell me how great my kid is." 

"She is great. She's extremely talented, smart, and funny, but she spends more time in my classroom during lunch than anything else. I'm worried about her making friends and finding a community here at school. I've tried convincing her to join the art club, but she's hesitant. During class, she just sits with her headphones in and draws. She really doesn't like talking to anybody but me." You wait for blame to be assigned to you or get lectured, but it never comes. He just sighs, and he deflates a little in his chair.

"She's been through a lot this year. Well, her whole life, really, but 'specially recently," he says dejectedly. "What can I do for her?"

"There's an art show this Friday night here at the school. It'll all be student work from across the district. I thought if maybe you or... whatever adults she has at home came with her to this, she might feel more comfortable talking to her peers or even want to submit some of her own stuff."

"We can do that. I'll get off work early and ask her uncle if he wants to come," he's quick with his solution, and you're a little shocked. You rarely get parents, let alone fathers, who act this swiftly when something is going on with their kids. "Is there anythin' else goin' on that I should know bout?" 

"Uh, no. Like I said, she's a great kid. You should be really proud." You say, and the concerned wrinkle between his eyebrows disappears with a proud smile. 

"Thank you," he mumbles, suddenly shy. "And thanks for carin' so much bout her. It's nice to know she's got someone lookin' out for her here." You don't know what to say, so you just nod and stare at him. You know, like an idiot. It takes a chuckle from him to snap you out of your thoughts, and blood rushes to your cheeks.

"Yes, of course. She's a good kid." You say. 

"You said that already." 

"I bet you'd be a little scatterbrained if you were at the mercy of two hundred teenagers all day."

"You're absolutely right. I would be," he says, smirking devastatingly. "Someone ought to get you a coffee or somethin' if you're dealing with all that." 

"People like you should go argue with the school board. I'm sure you'd be popular with all the teachers." 

"That'd be a first. I think I might've been the least favorite parent for all of my girls' teachers." 

"Well, I find that hard to believe." 

"Yeah?" He asks, leaning forward just a little, and you nod, smiling. Your brain struggles to come up with something to say, and you're a little embarrassed at your silence, but luckily, your projector saves the day by buzzing loudly and making the picture on the board cut in and out. You mumble a quick apology before getting up and climbing up on a desk to jiggle a piece back into place. You hear Joel curse behind you, and when you turn to see what the problem is, you see him holding his arms out behind you. "Do you stand on desks often?" 

"Only every day. I haven't fallen yet this year." You laugh at his exasperated expression and turn back to the projector. It's still making a weird noise, so you move it around a little more, moving the desk under your feet, and Joel stabilizes it with a sigh. 

"How long has it been doin' that?" 

"Couple months. I keep putting in maintenance requests, but nobody ever comes to fix it."

"I can fix it for ya," he says simply, and you look down at him. "I've got tools in my truck. It wouldn't take long at all."

"Really?" You ask, and he nods. 

"It'd make me feel better knowin' you're not almost breakin' your neck every day."

"You mean, standing on a decades-old desk to mess with an ancient piece of equipment isn't OSHA compliant?"

"Please," he says, grabbing your ankle when the desk wobbles under you, and you laugh at his worry. "Let me fix it for you before you give me a heart attack." You think about declining and just putting in another work order, but the likelihood that anyone would actually come and fix it is slim to none. Plus, you really shouldn't be climbing on top of desks every day. You pretend to think it over for a few more seconds just to watch the worry play across his features as his grip on your ankle gets tighter.

"Only if you really mean it." 

"I really mean it," he says, offering you his other hand. "Now, would you please get down?"

"Fine." You say and take his hand. You bend to safely get yourself down, but Joel moves his other hand from your ankle to your waist and basically hoists you to the ground. Once your feet touch the floor, he doesn't let you go immediately like he's trying to figure out if you somehow got hurt when he wasn't looking. There's a part of your brain that's aware of how inappropriate this would look to any passersby, but you're also highly aware of how warm his big hand is on your hip. 

"Ya alright?" He asks softly, and you nod, taking a conscious step back from his arms.

"Yes, thank you."

"Good," he says, also taking a step back. "Let me go get my tools, and I'll get that fixed for you." 

"Perfect. I'll be here." You stand there, staring at each other awkwardly, for another moment before he turns on his heels and walks out of the classroom. The second he's out of your line of sight, you bury your head in your hands and start silently freaking out. 

What the fuck are you doing? How did a parent-teacher meeting turn into him hauling you off a desk and offering to fix your projector? Technically, nothing incriminating has happened, and it needs to stay that way. It doesn't matter if you think he's attractive or like how he worries about everything. He's Ellie's dad. Teachers have gotten fired for much less than this, and you're not willing to risk your career because of one guy. 

When he gets back with his toolbox, you're sitting at your desk and sorting through assignments like a reasonable adult. He doesn't say anything as he climbs up on the same desk you were standing on and begins messing with the mechanics of the equipment. You each work in silence for a few minutes before a screw clatters to the ground, and he grumbles something under his breath. "Do you mind..." he starts, pointing toward the lost piece. 

"Not at all." You cover your anxiety with your chipper teacher voice and search for the screw with your phone flashlight. You find it tucked between canvases, carefully pick it up, and walk over to where he's standing, waiting for him to be ready for it.

"It looks like it's just an old piece in here. I'm sure you can order a new one, and I can come back and install it if ya want," he explains, looking down at you. You probably look stupid just standing there with a tiny screw in your hand, but he doesn't laugh. "D'you mind handing me that tool to your right?" He asks, and you blindly reach for the tool you think he's talking about. "Your other right." He corrects, and you flush in embarrassment. 

"Sorry. I never was a very good woodshop student." You say, and he laughs once he has the tool in hand. 

"My girls are the same way. Just askin' ‘em to hold a flashlight while I work on their car is like pullin' teeth," he says fondly. "Speaking of which, is there a reason the lights aren't on in here?"

"The lamp light is less harsh, and it helps students focus. Plus, nobody likes coming into a bright classroom first thing in the morning." You explain, and he hums.

"If I'd had a teacher like you growing up, I would've been at school much more than I was."

"You didn't like school?"

"Hated it," he says, opening his hand for the screw. Once you drop the tiny thing into his large palm, he straightens up, and you can barely hear it going back into its rightful place. "'S a miracle I graduated." 

"That was me in college." 

"Now, I don't believe that for a second." 

"Really?" You laugh, and he nods.

"Someone like you, with your pretty dresses and all that empathy, was meant to be a teacher." 

"I wasn't always like this," you evade the compliment despite the butterflies in your stomach. "Being a teacher was never on my radar until I graduated. A lot of my life was never on my radar until then." He puts the hood of the projector back on and climbs down from the desk until he's standing in front of you again, wiping his hands on a red handkerchief from his toolbox. 

"Well, with the way you carry yourself, I never woulda guessed." He says. He opens his mouth to say something more, but the sharp tone of the bell ringing cuts him off. You jump at the sound and look at the clock as if it were wrong. 

"I'm so sorry. Time must've gotten away from me. Thank you so much again, Mr. Miller, for coming in to talk with me and looking at the projector. I hope to see you and Ellie on Friday." You say quickly as the sound of rowdy kids fills the hallway, and you hold your hand out to him. He takes it and squeezes it firmly.

"You can call me Joel. Mr. Miller makes me feel old." He says, and you smile. He doesn't look old, unlike the other dads you've encountered. Sure, he's got some gray at his temples and in his beard, but it suits him. 

"Joel, it is then." You resolve. His hand lingers in yours for a little too long before finally pulling away. "Well, Joel, unless you want to elbow through teenagers, I'd suggest you hide out here for a few more minutes." He does happily, even helping you carry supplies to your car once the hallways have cleared out enough. He's a proper gentleman, slinging your backpack over his shoulder and opening doors for you. You part only once everything is in your trunk, and he bids you goodnight with a charming smile that fills your thoughts on your drive home.

Ellie surprises you the next day as you're setting up the classroom. Normally, she isn't in until right before the bell rings, so seeing her this early is a little bit of a shock. The ink staining her hands is not. "Hey, dude. What's going on?" You ask. "Did you get breakfast from the cafeteria today? I heard Mrs. Hodges has those French toast sticks that everyone loves. You can probably get two servings if you run." 

"No, I already ate. My dad and uncle had to leave early this morning, so we got breakfast. Speaking of which," she says as she takes off her backpack and pulls a cup of iced coffee out of her water bottle pocket. "This is for you. We didn't know what you liked, so we got a vanilla latte or something." 

"Oh, El! You didn't have to do that. Thank you, honey." You say, and she sets it on your desk for you to enjoy once you don't have paintbrushes in hand. "If this is your way of getting a good grade on your piece, I already told you that you have nothing to worry about."

"It wasn't my idea. It was my dad's." She says nonchalantly before moving to the back of the classroom to get her sketch book. You, however, are confused and secretly pleased that Joel thought of you when he didn't have to. You find a message scribbled on the side when you reach for the cup to take a sip. 

Thanks again. See you Friday. -J

You turn to hide your smile from Ellie, but she's so deep in her work that you doubt she would've noticed anyway. You put some music on, and you and Ellie work silently on your projects until the bell rings and the day starts. 

The rest of the week goes by without a hitch, meaning that nobody accidentally ingested paint, and you only had to have one Come to Jesus talk with your Art 1 class. When Friday night rolls around, you're excited to see all the students work and treat yourself by wearing a new shirt with black scribbles all over it and black dress pants. You figure you should look as art teachery as possible for an art teacher event. 

By the time you get to the school, the hallways are buzzing with students dragging their parents from one piece to another and administrators praising their art programs even though you know not one of them has seen the inside of an art classroom in months. You make small talk with some of your students and their parents before finding a way out of the conversation and letting yourself wander through the makeshift gallery. You love your kids, but you really don't want them breathing down your neck as you look at all the art. You're almost at the end when you hear a familiar voice calling your name, and you turn to find Ellie walking toward you with Joel and, who you assume to be her uncle, next to her. 

"Hey, kid! I'm so happy to see you here!" You say sincerely, and she smiles shyly. You turn to her uncle and hold your hand out to introduce yourself. 

"Tommy. We sure have heard a whole lot bout you at home." He says with a smirk, and you laugh. 

"All good things, I hope."

"Of course. Ellie just bout worships the ground you walk on," he says. "Joel was singin' your praises, too." 

"Alright, I think that's enough. Why don't y'all go walk around, and I'll catch up with ya?" He suggests, and Tommy chuckles. Another teacher calls Ellie's name from down the hallway, and she's quick to drag Tommy off to meet him, leaving you and Joel alone. He's replaced his black shirt with a light blue dress shirt, and it looks like he's recently trimmed his beard. He looks nice.

"Singing praises, huh?" You raise your eyebrows at him, and he smiles sheepishly. "Thank you for the coffee the other morning, by the way. It was a really nice surprise." 

"Figured it was the least I could do to thank you for takin' such good care of my girl." 

"Well, thank you. I owe you." 

"You don't owe me a thing," he says. "Although, Tommy was a little upset that I didn't bill you for lookin' at the projector." 

"Was he?" You ask, and he nods.

"Oh, yeah," he laughs. "Said next time I should, at least, ask you on a date."

"Mr. Miller-"

"I thought you agreed to call me Joel." He raises his eyebrows in a silent challenge, and you shake your head, fighting a smile.

"Joel, while I'm flattered by the offer from someone so handsome-"

"You think I'm handsome?"

"I can't date my students' parents." You say, ignoring his question, but even then, the playful look on his face doesn't fade. "Well, I can leave you to it. I know Ellie will probably want to show you around." 

"Right. Of course," he says. "It's really nice to see you."

"You, too. I'm just glad I didn't have paint in my hair this time."

"I don't know. I thought it was kinda cute." You feel yourself blush at his words, but you have to shut it down before it can become anything more than flattery. You take a deep breath and try not to let that stupid smirk weaken your knees as he watches you.

"Goodnight, Joel."

"Goodnight, ma'am." He says, tipping his head politely before sauntering down the hallway like he owns the place. Trouble, you think to yourself. But you can handle trouble. It's in your job description, for Christ's sake. 

So, you brush off the flirting and try to ignore how his kindness and sweet words made you feel. You absolutely cannot flirt with the parent of one of your students. Dating is completely off the table. You can handle this like an adult. You have to. 

After a cold shower and a leftover dinner, you check your email once more before going to bed that night. Sitting in your inbox with alarming clarity is an email from Ellie with the subject line: Art Club. Her email is somehow just as short as her subject line. 

Simply, "When can I start -E." 

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Rainbow Bridge

Summary: The reader is incredibly confused when in heaven one day, a dog she's never met before appears by her side...

Pairing: Dean x reader (in heaven)

Word Count: 1,800ish

Warnings: language, mention of pet death/human death

A/N: I wrote this for my fellow pet owners (and myself). Hopefully those little dudes over the rainbow bridge have their own kinds of adventures like these pups while they wait! (and all the chicken nuggies they can eat 😉)

_______

The air shifted, a warm and joyful presence filling the air. You glanced down in your kitchen, an adorable dog with long fur and pointy ears staring up at you with a wagging tail.

“Well good morning to you, cutie,” you laughed, bending down in your pajamas with your cup of coffee, giving the dog a few pets. “Who might you be?”

The dog woofed and the thought Miracle sprang into your head. That wasn’t entirely uncommon. Animals in the afterlife were able to communicate a bit better than they had when you were alive. 

One of your own dogs you’d had when you were alive, your first dog ever, bounded upstairs from the playroom on the lower level that was for them to use as a way station. Sometimes they liked to stick around home, sometimes by your side and others they’d go off and visit their own animal friends they’d made. But generally they kept to themselves first thing in the day.

“This a friend of yours, baby?” you asked your little dog. He ran over to Miracle, sniffing intensely before he snorted. “No huh. Did you just die, Miracle? I know sometimes dogs are a little confused when they get here and you got your young, healthy bodies back.”

Miracle woofed with a slight head shake, your lips pursing. Your own dog pawed at you, resting a little foot on your arm. You hummed at him, the little guy sending you some positive feelings, sensing you were worried.

“Alright. I’ve never heard of a random dog appearing in heaven unless you request one. You show Miracle around the house and where he can do his business while I get ready. Then we’ll try to figure out who your owner is, okay?” Both dogs yelped happily and took off downstairs, a loud crash at the bottom as they slammed into your boot tray. “Careful! Just cause you can’t get hurt doesn’t mean you can be reckless!”

More than one dog barked back in response and you rolled your eyes, heading for your bedroom.

“At least I don’t have to pay vet bills for you guys anymore. Five dogs is only kind of a lot for one eternity.” You heard more barking and groaned. “I wasn’t complaining you mongrels! I was quite pleased to see your little faces when I died. I could have done with a little less face licking though.”

You swore you could hear the faint echo of laughter in their barks as you got ready for the day.

“If I’m not back by supper make sure you boys get some dinner,” you called, heading outside with Miracle. You loaded into your car and headed down the road, thinking you had a problem. Soon you were taking an off ramp you’d not seen before. You wound up in a mostly empty parking lot, Miracle following you out and into the lone building around.

“Take an issue form and fill out everything before returning it to the counter,” grumbled the guy behind the desk, shoving a clipboard towards you. You stepped through the empty waiting room, picking up the board. You opened your mouth to speak when he sighed. “The form is a requirement by the big man. I’m just doing my job.”

“How do you have a job which is arguably the equivalent of working at the DMV, but in heaven? Like, we don’t have jobs.” He flickered his eyes up at you, making you jump back when they flashed black. 

“Demon, sweetie. It’s part of my rehab program so I can someday be like you. By then, some other schmuck in the program will have my job. No more questions.” 

“Okay…” you said, grabbing a pen and taking a seat, Miracle laying down on the floor beside you. You stared at the form, frowning when you didn’t see your particular issue listed.

“Um, excuse me, Mr. Demon,” you said, approaching the counter again, the guy rolling his eyes at you. “My problem doesn’t appear on the form?”

“That’s impossible. Those are the only issues possible of occurring in heaven.” You pointed at Miracle beside you, the guy standing to look down at him.

“I have no clue who this dog is and it’s not my dog’s friend. He just appeared next to me in my kitchen this morning,” you said. The demon stared at you, rubbing his temples. 

“Remember your steps, remember your steps,” he muttered to himself before forcing a smile. “Listen. Dogs don’t get lost in heaven. Either you know his owner-”

“Nope. My dogs don’t recognize him.”

“Fine,” gritted out the demon. “Then you and the owner of this dog are soulmates in some way.”

You blinked at him, the man angrily typing on his keyboard. 

“This dog belongs to a man named Dean Winchester. You and Dean Winchester were alive, somewhat, during the same time. He died a lot younger than you did. You two are…romantic soulmates,” he said, a fax machine going in the back. He got up and ripped off a sheet of paper, handing it to you. “Here’s his address. Now please go bother him instead of me.”

You rolled your eyes, ready to leave when you stopped, glancing down at Miracle. “Do you like, want to pet the dog?”

“Excuse me?” You turned around, the demon still on his feet.

“Well I mean, it’s probably been awhile since you’ve seen a dog or gotten to pet one. You can’t be that horrible if they’re letting you up here with the rest of us. So do you want to pet him?”

It was shocking how quickly the demon hopped over the counter and knelt down next to the dog, giving him a few pats and then a belly rub.

“I had a dog when I was a kid. I can’t wait to see her again once I get out of here,” he said, glancing up at you, seeming to forget he was a demon for a moment. “That was weird.”

“Dogs are kinda perpetually happy here and give off good energy. I’m sure your dog is looking forward to seeing you too,” you said as Miracle sat up and headed for the door. “Apparently I’m on the move. See ya around someday.”

“Yeah. Someday,” he said as you left. Five seconds later, now that you knew where you were going, you popped yourself over to this Dean Winchester’s place. You were standing outside a beautiful two story cabin on a lake, Miracle taking off in a sprint down a dock to where someone was sitting in a chair fishing. 

Your heart felt funny as the man on the dock stood and turned around, cocking his head at you. He gave Miracle a good ruffle before he approached, meeting you halfway across his backyard.

“Hi,” he said with a smile, shaking his head. “I uh-”

You both jumped when your five dogs appeared, running and chasing around a ball in the yard, Miracle joining in after them.

“Your dog popped into my kitchen this morning. I’m pretty sure we’re soulmates. At least that’s what this paper says,” you said, the pack of dogs sprinting around the corner of the house. “I’ve had a few pups in my life.”

“Miracle could do with some siblings,” he said, smirking as you felt a cozy peace inside you. “I was wondering where he ran off to. He normally doesn’t stray far from home. Looks like he was off finding his mom.”

“I thought soulmates were supposed to like…snap together when they’re both in heaven,” you said. He smirked, pursing his lips. “What?”

“I probably wasn’t in heaven when you died. I was jumping around alternate worlds and you look very confused all of a sudden.” You nodded, staring at him wide eyed. “I’m a smidge of a rule breaker…and I kinda know Jack…and took down the old god.”

Your first instinct was to call him crazy but he had no reason to lie. Besides, something ached in his soul, like it had a little bruise on it. This man had known serious pain and then some when he was alive.

“You know, I killed vampires when I was alive. What’s something you did for fun?” he asked. Your jaw dropped, Dean chuckling. “Oh boy. Sweetheart, you and I have some catching up to do.”

“Hi baby,” you said that night as you and Dean laid on a blanket in the yard, your little guy crawling up on the blanket and settling in beside Dean. “Aw, he likes you.”

“He’s protective of you. I can feel it,” he said with a hum. “He hung out with your grandparents a lot after he died. Apparently while you were crying over him on earth, he was chowing down on some of your grandpa’s maple syrup bacon thinking mom’s being overdramatic, I’m gonna see her again. She worries too much.”

You sat up, raising an eyebrow. “How do you know that? My grandparents told me they were with him until my parents got here and he stayed with them a while but dogs can’t talk to us like that here. We can sense them and stuff but we can’t know complete thoughts.”

Dean smiled, scratching behind the dogs ears. 

“Well, I’m a little special. I worked a case where I could communicate with dogs once. It came back up here. This little guy adores the fuck out of you and wishes you hadn’t been so sad back then but he understands. He is pretty awesome,” laughed Dean. 

“And he’s a little shit,” you giggled. “What else does he say?”

“He’s glad you got more dogs over your life and he’s glad you found me finally. Also if we don’t stop talking soon he’s going to go inside and sleep on our bed,” chuckled Dean. “Cranky baby, aren’t you?”

The dog snorted, stood up, licked your nose and trotted off inside with his chin turned up.

“Like I said, he’s a sassy little shit,” you chuckled, Dean pulling you closer. “So Dean. What do you got planned for the afterlife?”

“A bit of fishing here and there. Working on my car. Going out for a drink at the roadhouse. Hanging with my brother. Sneak out of heaven to get up to shit every once in a while, hopefully with you. How’s that sound?” he asked. You leaned over and kissed him slowly, rolling back with a smile. 

“Sounds like a plan, Winchester. Time to start having some fun in eternity.”

___________

[moonstruckme]

Hii how are u? i'm feeling kinda anxious today so can i request a poly!marauders or just remus where they/he comfort r because she's scared about the future please?

this is like a personal request because i'm in my 20s and i know i should find a job and i want to but i'm terrified bc i don't like to interact with new people😭 and every single night when i reflect on my future i just get so scared and anxious and i hate i was born like this because my younger sisters are more outgoing than me and they have no problems but i just feel kind of pathethic yk🫠 SORRY FOR VENTING IN UR BOX IT'S JUST BC I LOVE YOUR WRITING BUT FEEL FREE TO IGNORE THISIF YOU DON'T FEEL COMFORTABLE🙏😖

Hi lovely, don't be sorry! I'm sorry you're so anxious. Wishing you the best and thanks for requesting <3

cw: anxiety

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 483 words

Remus lets his hand lay heavy on your head, thumb stroking your temple while hot tears carve paths across your face to dampen your pillow. He’s better than you would be, brown eyes watching you patiently from the pillow next to yours. He knows you need to cry it out.

“I hate seeing you so wound up over this,” he murmurs once you’ve calmed. His thumb is still moving steadily over your skin. “You’re making it ten times worse in your head, lovely girl.” 

You make a hum of dissent, and despite your exhaustion another tear dribbles onto the bridge of your nose. “There’s no way around it,” you say, whispering to avoid a squeak in your voice. “I can’t just never talk to people.” 

“But you don’t have to do it all at once.” There’s a slight indent in Remus’ forehead, but aside from that his face is gentle and kind. He believes in you. “We can take baby steps, work up to the scary stuff.” 

“I can’t.” You sound pathetic to your own ears, but Remus only tsks.

“Yeah you can, dove. You can talk to people, and meet new ones, I know you can.” He shifts his head slightly on the pillow, waiting until you look at him. “You met me.” 

Your lips give a tug. That was easy. James had practically forced the two of you together. “You’re nice, though,” you say, “and quiet. You were never hard to talk to.” 

Remus gives you a fond look. “There are other nice and quiet people out there.” 

“Not like you.” 

He rolls on top of you, groaning in a shoddy attempt to cover his amusement. “Perhaps not,” he allows, and when you sigh he imitates it sympathetically, dropping his chin to your chest. “Still, some might come close. Not everyone is rude and loud.” 

“I’ve seen no evidence to the contrary.” You pick up a piece of hair from over his ear, curling it around your finger. “Look at Sirius.” 

“If Sirius represents humanity, then we’re all fucked.” He turns his head to kiss the inside of your wrist. You’re trying to distract from the original topic, and Remus knows it. “You make a good point, dove. If you can handle Sirius, talking to anyone else will be a breeze.” 

You look away, sulky. Remus chuckles. He reaches up to scratch lightly at your scalp. “Let me help you with the small things,” he bargains, voice downy-soft and soothing, “and when you’re ready for the bigger stuff, I’ll be there with a hug for after. Okay?” 

Your sigh is hefty enough to ruffle the ends of his hair. “You can’t just come with me and hold my hand?” you ask, only partly teasing. 

Remus’ smile shows he can tell. “Afraid not, sweetheart, but don’t worry. You’re braver than you think. I know you can do just fine on your own.”

[mrinafria]

I'll gladly let you kill me then.

-That promise, make sure you keep it.

So I think Daon's backstory is significant for us to understand a bit more about Han Daon as a character. He's got this huge scar from his childhood incident that he never really healed from. Also, he's no saint. We've seen him wavering in what he should/should not do more than once so far.

He knows giving police protection to criminals is a waste but still does it because it's the lawful thing to do. He wavers for a couple of seconds there when Kang Bitna offers to kill his parents' killer for him because the law cannot. From what I see, he's always walked on a thin line between what is right or wrong according to society's definition. He definitely has a violent streak in him; he's just never had to fully give in to that.

You bet he'd have ended up on the dark side after his parents' death if not for his noona who never gave up on him, turned him away, with her love and kindness, from a path that could have led him to darkness and uncertainty. Now that Detective Soyeong is gone, the person who showed him light is gone too. His only family after he'd lost his own, gone. And he's back to being that kid again who had so much unresolved hurt, trauma and angst against the law that didn't believe in him (a wound he still carries). Law that wasn't enough to give him his well-deserved justice. Back then, he had Soyeong who was a human and law abiding individual. Now, he has Kang Bitna aka Justitia, a demon who serves justice in her own way because she knows the human law is faulty. If Han Daon was guided to life and light back then because of Soyeong, would he then give in to death and darkness now, because he is already spiraling as it is and there's no one to bring him back to light?

Why do I feel Kang Bitna actually wouldn't want that? It was different back when she'd stabbed him, but the switch is flipped now, and I think she'd care very much about Han Daon's future and fate. The way she goes 'HAN DAON!' and 'Then you'll end up in hell too' and stares at him like she doesn't recognize this version of Daon--I've replayed that scene far too many times.

Because Bitna may say Daon's morality and tenacity to get to the truth is annoying, but I think she doesn't even know that she appreciates it, which is also why she gets so worked up every time she feels like Daon's faked his emotions or betrayed her with his words: she expects him to be on the side of truth and righteousness.

Even though we see her supporting Daon in the precap for eps 9 and 10, she might go out of her way and even risk her own existence to keep Daon away from darkness later, because now if something happens to him, she'd be the first one to cry.

A part of me also thinks Daon cannot go ALL the way with his revenge because he'd made a promise to Detective Soyeong to always be a detective first and do his job. It's his vengeance talking right now but once that wears off and reason kicks in, I don't think he'd want to kill somebody unlawfully, disrespecting the promise he made to his noona.

Or we could totally have a switch up with Bitna becoming the superego and Daon, the id. It'll be interesting to see if Bitna starts shifting gradually toward the 'unevil' side while helping Daon, having his back and protecting him. She might have to take Daon's life after all (deal with the Demon and all), but at a time when it'll hurt her THE MOST doing so. Maybe the power of Kylum can come to their rescue then, reviving Daon? It also makes me think if the 'Other Thing' you need for Kylum to work its divine magic is unconditional love/sacrificial love, where Bitna would have to willingly give up her life to revive Daon?

*cough* ^I take no responsibility for what I just said above thank you very much T-T

[peggyao3]

Relic - Pt. 10 "Fettered Flesh"

PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Unnamed Ambiguous FMC

SUMMARY: ✧ Dreams are messages from the deep ✧

A woman from the unknown comes to Feyd in his dreams and his nights become his days as he flees to the dreamscape to escape the nightmares that haunt his waking hours.

TAGS: 18+, smut, she/her AFAB FMC, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, Porn with Plot, Feyd-Rautha's black cum and big cock, Praise Kink, Body Worship, angst/hurt and comfort, drama, fluff, Frank Herbert would frown, some politics, implied/referenced (child) abuse❗, Trauma, mentions of suicidal thoughts❗, Healing, Strangers to Lovers, falling in love, Vulnerable/Emotional/Possessive Feyd, Feyd is a sweet baby who did nothing wrong and I WILL pamper him, nurture not nature, Stockholm Syndrome but in a consensual way, lucid dreaming, implied/referenced cannibalism❗, Murder, Female rage, Teaching the Universe about Feminism, Angst with a Happy Ending

WORD COUNT: 5k

A/N: HELLO PRECIOUS PEOPLE 💕 Shit hits the Giedi Prime fan, so get out your umbrellas!! I feel like with every chapter I'm getting more excited 🥹 And everyone who has left a comment is to blame 😭 I appreciate it so greatly 😭 I've recently started an internship thingy (in a manner of baby's first real job experience lmao), so I have a bit less time to write, but chapter 11 and 12 are finished already, so I do have a bit of food in stock 💪

Reposted from my Ao3 💕| Masterlist | Relic Masterlist

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

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Day 5

Jealousy is a beast, but loneliness is a monster.

Jealousy ignites with fiery tendrils but loneliness drowns you slowly until you're staring up from the bottom of the pitch black sea, yearning for the light.

All day she's been mulling over the three woman-creatures, Feyd's "pets". What is it that infuriates her the most? The physical violence? The fear of what they might have done to her - Death, torture or worse? Their derogatory status? Their beastliness grafted into female bodies, paired with the fact that Feyd has been bedding them at some point?

Without thinking about it, and perhaps it is tactless, she has been pouring her heart out to Lilia while the attentive handmaid is treating her scabbed injuries from last night. Now it is evident that wound management is a well-needed skill around the Harkonnen palace. The sarcophagus is safely folded up and her new weapon is tucked into one of the compartments.

"Am I overreacting?!" She asks, even though - hell no - she knows she isn't, but a part of her soul yearns for human connection, affirmation, camaraderie, friendship. It feels so good to be talking to someone who is not the man she thought she knew or the belittling Bene Gesserit sisters.

"Hmm," Lilia begins tentatively and the glowglobe light brings out the unusual color of her eyes as she tilts her head, so amber that they almost appear golden. "While I'll say it's never been common for the na-Baron to practice monogamy… I'll also say that I'd be quite furious at my husband if he had three women on the side." Her voice quivers upon women, as if it repels her to describe the three beings as such. The spider in the Baron's throne room may be the most harmless monster to roam these halls.

The engineer's questions chip away and it becomes perfectly clear that it's the jealousy that cuts the deepest, even with her superficial wounds cared for, a blade is wedged inside her guts that will keep on cutting.

"And do these 'pets' have handmaids too?" A self-destructive question to determine where her own status truly lies. What's a bride but another pet to him?

"They used to have handmaids…" Lilia hesitates. "But they always ended up eating them. I'm glad to be assigned to you, my Lady."

Great. There she has another horror to add to the menagerie.

Lilia continues: "If it calms you, I doubt there will be any further incidences with them. The na-Baron has been in an, uhm, unstable mood since last night." The maid's posture turns rigid. She shouldn't be speaking about the na-Baron like that, but the Earth woman's emotions are contagious. Lilia will get herself killed if she's not careful. She's been telling that to herself since she was a little girl.

"Unstable, uh-huh, well so am I."

The Harkonnen woman nods and decides it is best not to elaborate on what it means when Feyd-Rautha is having the worst day of his life.

Vladimir Harkonnen chuckles with delight at his nephew's distress and the infantile killing spree that has been painting the halls black since last night.

It took even less time than he expected, for the new woman to be disgusted by his poor nephew and he cannot hold it against her. Feyd-Rautha is a raging child in an unfortunately manly body. 

The Baron is well-entertained by the hollow screams that blare down the hallways. First the three harpies. A shame, they had helped keep Feyd settled so nicely and they hadn't been cheap either. It's also a shame that the Bene Tleilax don't offer bulk discount, considering the number of Gholas the Baron saw himself forced to commission for the little game his nephew and he have been playing.

Next on Feyd's blade was the guard at his little witch's door, then anyone who crossed his path in the night, all the while Feyd was chafing with desire to be cut and hurt. But no one outside of the ring is allowed to raise their blades against the Baron's heir apparent, unless instructed by the Harkonnen sovereign himself.

Some fire has returned to his nephew since the woman's arrival and he appreciates that, yes, he does, but he will keep a sharp eye on the two of them. He has no doubt that she's a Bene Gesserit agent who has implanted phantasms in Feyd-Rautha's mind, but Vladimir is willing to play the sisterhood's game, for his nephew's sake, even though he had sworn to never let a witch enter his fortress again. 

Not since Lady Margot Fenring had tried to steal his lovely boy's precious seed. Luckily, Feyd's blade had worked quicker than the thief's vocal chords.

But Valdimir is willing to adapt. The boy had been boring him to death for the past two years and he used to be so entertaining and feisty!

In the evening hours after a night and day of bloodshed, Feyd still has stamina (a trait the Baron cherishes so dearly about his nephew) and comes barging into the guarded dining room, bringing with him the cloying scent of blood that sticks to the tacky soles of his boots. He wears the clothes of yesterday and blood lust in his eyes.

Careful now.

Vladimir gives no sign to the guards, chews without haste and takes a noisy gulp of wine, making sure a bead rolls down the folds of his massive neck. The muscle at his nephew's jaw twitches and his fingers strangulate the blood-slick handle of his blade.

The eight arm-legged arachnid creature shivers in its basket under the table, eager to get to Feyd, partly because his boots smell yummy, but it doesn't dare move away from the Baron's feed. Smart thing.

"Don't look at me like that. It's not my fault that she doesn't like you, boy."

Feyd halts as if struck by one of the bolts of infrared lightning that cook the atmosphere during the summer months. Tension strains his neck, a bull ready to charge at his Matador and for a second the Baron thinks he'll have to switch on his shield ring. But his nephew turns and barges off with bouncing, stomping steps, draining his stamina and wetting his knives on everything that breathes, when the only one he really wants to kill sits fat and mighty on his throne. 

It's almost cute, Vladimir thinks. The boy could kill him so easily now, if he really put his cunning, little mind to it. He's strong enough, smart enough, but his spirit - that's the crux. Feyd's spirit is broken and riddled with fear of the punishments. The last time he tried was at 17 and then never again.

Ah-h-h, yes, the Baron has conditioned him well and he considers it his retirement plan. Age hasn't left the Harkonnen sovereign unscathed and while his mind may still be sharp (or else how would he have come up with such a genius plan!), his morbidly obese body fully relies on the protection of his shield ring, guards, lung machine and poison snoopers. But as long as the boy still fears him, the deadliest threat within these halls remains on a pretty, silver leash.

The fire of jealousy has dwindled down and now all she does is miss him, sitting lonely in her room, lonely on this planet, lonely in the universe with only inanimate objects and the virtual messages and images of dead people to keep her company. None of this can ever compare to the warm hands of her beloved and his smile, the roundness of his cheeks and his painted teeth. She misses the way his eyes used to crinkle just for her. He had made her believe that only she could make him smile and offer a sliver of peace to his soul.

It's been two years since their last dream. Why wouldn't he have taken other women?

He said he "hasn't touched them". Since when? Since he learned she's alive? Since their first dreams? Ever?

She regrets now that she denied him when he knocked on her door an hour ago. The bitter guilt of disgracing oneself crawls over her when she slowly moves towards the door, but her self-respect has cauterized and become cinders along with her fury. Feeling sick to her stomach, she places her hand on the panel and the heavy door slides open.

Finding herself face to back with a guard in bulky plate armor, she halts. She wouldn't know where exactly to find Feyd's room anyway. The man turns on his heels and salutes briskly before returning his hand to the hilt of his saber.

"Good evening. Ah, wait, are you… New?" She blurts out, not meaning to seem disrespectful. The Harkonnens often do look quite alike to her, but she could have sworn the old guard was a little shorter.

"Yes, my Lady." The man looks right above the crown of her head, avoiding her eyes.

"What happened to the other guard?"

"He was replaced, my Lady."

That does make sense and she's almost a little relieved. She wouldn't want anyone who'd let these bloodthirsty creatures inside to guard her and her most valuable possession. However, she still hopes this incident won't ruin his chances of employment indefinitely.

"I see." She glances cautiously down the austere corridor. Past the windows, there is only blackness and the occasional faraway rumble from the factories. "Do you have to stand here all night? Your feet must be hurting. What about a chair?"

"I'm not allowed such luxuries."

"Says who? You can't excel at your job while being overworked and your feet are aching in those boots." 

The man wonders if the na-Baron's Lady wishes to insult or test him. "I am at full capacity, my Lady!" He salutes again. "I have no complaints about my boots."

"Fine, alright. Could you please point me the way to Feyd's room then? I want to see him. No need to accompany me, I'm sure I'll find it, just make sure no one enters my room, please?"

"Sorry!" The man extends his arm to the side, stopping her advance around him without laying a finger on the Lady. "The na-Baron has ordered this door to be sealed unless he or your handmaid demand entrance."

"Well I don't demand entrance, I want to exit. I want to see Feyd."

The guard grows queasy. That scenario was not included in his instructions. To be fair, the briefing for his new position can be considered rudimental at best but he didn't complain. Up here has been the safest spot in the palace tonight. "The na-Baron doesn't welcome visitors in his private quarters."

"But I'm his…" She swallows uncomfortably. "Betrothed, or am I not?"

"You are, my Lady."

"So, couldn't you perhaps call him?"

The poor guard's expression says 'I'd rather not'. The na-Baron has only just settled, finally, and even the dumbest desert rat knows not to wake a sleeping tiger. All evening long he's been wondering how many of his comrades will be dead come the morning and he doesn't want to be the next one to become fodder for the slaves' food rations. "I'm sorry, my Lady. It is against the protocol to disturb the na-Baron at night unless there is an emergency. Is there an emergency?"

"No…" The woman's expression twists into defeat and she pads backwards with slackened shoulders and somber eyes. "I'm sorry to have bothered you."

The door slides shut and she is too sad to even be angry about her gentle imprisonment. There's nothing out there for her anyway, except for Feyd, and if he doesn't want to see her…

Self-destructive thoughts sprout from the cinders in her chest and grow into the wildest phantasms. The guard was too kind to tell her Feyd has visitors in his room. Perhaps he explicitly decreed that she is not to join him.

To prevent herself from hurtling into a bottomless spiral, she must find a distraction. Nearly choking on bitter tears, she opens up the virtual app drawer that she's most familiar with and selects the 3d-modeling tool. A nice, little task to keep her thoughts from straying is exactly what she needs, and so she settles down on the bed and begins to design a practical, foldable, printable chair for her guard, thoughtfully optimizing stability and the required resources.

The engineer doesn't notice when her tears dry, but they do.

Day 6

She sleeps awfully that night, despite the chip's helpful sleeping program consisting of gentle rain and soothing frequencies. It can't have been much longer than two hours when she is awoken by a knock on the door, followed by another, more insistent one a moment later.

The 3d-modeling interface still overlays reality when her eyes snap open and her sluggish brain activity requires a moment to shut it down. She was almost finished with the printable chair parts last night, but she must have dozed off eventually. 

The knocking persists and she calls: "Lilia?"

A pause. "It's me." An unmistakable, deep and raspy voice comes muffled from the other side. Feyd-Rautha, freshly showered and dressed in a clean, casual suit, leans his forehead against the cool, thick plastic, breathing hard and fast so that his respiration condenses on the door. Waiting, he pleads silently for mercy. He cannot do this anymore, doesn't want to kill anymore just to feel something other than fear.

She freezes, legs half swung off the mattress as anxiety twists her belly. All of her jealousy comes crashing back and a little demon whispers poison in her ear: Go back to your hyenas and toy around with them, not me!

When silence is the answer to Feyd's timid greeting, his stomach drops as if filled with lead. Blood pounds in his ears like the war drums on his birthdays and his breath becomes shallow, so that he no longer even hears the guard's antsy shuffling. What will he do if she never forgives him? 

A harrowing need for violence flashes through him cold and dark and his twitching hand jerks for the blade at his hip but the door rushes open before he can brandish it and his woman faces him with crossed arms, her face puffy from sleep but her eyes are wide and vulnerable.

She beckons him to enter and he follows, eyes racing to the crowns of thorns in the vase, the sarcophagus, the ruffled bed, everything the way it was. How does she deal with pain?!

"Hello," Feyd mumbles, voice reduced to a tiny, grated whisper.

"Hello."

"Can we… talk?"

The relic nods and waits, clammy fingers clutching her sleeves. But then Feyd says… nothing. His eyes are focused on an imaginary point somewhere behind her navel and his jaws strain as if chewing a brick.

So, she begins: "I'm sorry, but I was very upset." She paces, shoulders drawn up. "I know that customs are different around here, I mean, they obviously are," she guffaws quietly and shakes her head. "But where I'm from, it requires consent to have more than one partner and I never gave you that consent. I've never given my consent to anything that's happened to me since I woke up! And then I found out you're alive and I can be with you and I really believed everything would finally be better, but you-" Her voice hiccups. "I'm very upset, okay?" Her lips twist and she lifts a hand to her mouth, sobbing quietly into her palm. "You're so different in real life."

Feyd's frozen limbs regain their agility and he jumps to her side as she tries to turn away, a swift predator despite his anguish. He clutches her by the arms. "Wait! Remind me. H-How was I in our dreams?" 

"I- I don't know, you looked happy." Her arms burn where he's holding onto her with his broad palms and long fingers. "And you were kind."

"Have I not been kind to you?"

"To me, yes. But being kind only to me is not enough." She shakes her head bitterly.

"What do you want me to do?" 

"Be honest with me. Who are these three?! They said you don't play with them anymore like you used to, and they hurt me, Feyd!" She writhes out of his clenched fists and he lets her because when her fingers skim his wrists, all his muscles go weak. She yanks up her shirt, showing off the healing gash on her waist.

Feyd wants to kill his darlings all over again and his sinful mouth twists into anger. "They used to be my pets. Pleasure slaves, if you will. Just some meaningless toys, nothing more, I swear it to you."

"Pleasure slaves!" She blurts out, shaking her head. At least he's being honest but - what the fuck?! "You-" Stumbling over her own words, she backs away from him with disgust. "Who are you? Who the fuck are you?"

More violence waits on her tongue. Does he respect anyone other than himself?

"You know me! You know who I am, where are you going?!" Doesn't she know she knows more about him than anyone else?

"I don't know shit about you!" She yells. "Where were you last night?"

"What?" All color is drained from his face. How could she know?

"Were you with them because I couldn't perform the way you wanted the other day?"

"What are you talking about?!" Feyd tries to grasp her by the arms once more but she twists away. If anything, he is at blame for being unable to make his woman comfortable enough to reach her release. What a pitiful good-for-nothing he is, pathetic down to the last, rotting cell. "I haven't touched my pets since I met you and that's the truth!"

"Oh, yeah? Then why was I not allowed to see you at night?" 

"What makes you say that?" 

"I tried to come to you last night, but the guard at my door said I'm supposed to stay in this room! So, were you with them?!"

Feyd stops his advance and an incredulous shimmer glazes over his blinking eyes. He could have held her last night, against his hurting heart. A dizzying lightness befalls his chest and sorrow becomes anger and anger wings his footsteps when he turns to the door, grinning, then giggling. Feyd slams his veined hand against the panel so hard, the screen cracks and inky blood slips down the valleys of his palm.

"Feyd? Feyd! What are you-"

The baffled guard faces the snickering na-Baron behind the opening door, last night's tiger resurrected like a Ghola for one last kill. A stammered 'my Lord' on diddering lips. Feyd-Rautha looks as bestial as his hyenas with prowling steps and rolling shoulders, searing eyes locked on his unmoving prey.

"You told my woman she couldn't see me last night? S'that right?" A slip of pink peeks out of the ghastly frame of black, gnashing teeth.

"My Lord, I beg your mercy, I didn't wish to distur-"

Metal flashes. The relic screams as the length of Feyd-Rautha's blade carves into the guard's pallid neck, Adam's apple bulging and sitting on the knife like a popped, black cherry. Blood sputters around Feyd's clenched fingers and laughter has faded from his lungs at once. He digs deeper as the guard draws in gurgling breaths, bubbles of air swimming in the blood around the metal.

The relic freezes like a mouse, glued to the spot as if she might turn invisible to the cold eyes of the beast who wears her lover's clothes. He looks nothing like Feyd-Rautha now, his features empty and alien with eyes that don't feel and hands unfazed by the death that stains them in thick, inky streams that roll down his victim's neck. 

This is how the universe sees him.

Feyd's blade slashes sideways, spraying a half moon of blood across the corridor and when the guard stumbles, he falls back into the na-Baron's knife, adding a vertical gash to the horizontal one, tip sinking into the flesh under his jaws, and with a jerk - up into his tongue.

The man grunts, still clinging to his life by a thread, and lurches forwards without drawing his sword. His head falls on Feyd-Rautha's shoulder. Feet shuffle in a grotesque waltz and Feyd's bloody fingers slip around the taller man's neck, holding him there while his blade plunges into his belly between armor plates so deftly, he could find all the weak spots blindfolded. The body slackens, weighing down on Feyd-Rautha whose ichor dripping fingers aren't ready to let go.

Shuk! Shuk! 

Is the sound of his blade sinking into soft flesh and viscera, whipping back out with a spray of blood and entrails.

The Bene Gesserit may have proclaimed her human, but the adrenaline that sets her nerves ablaze is a gift from her ancestors, animals, because that's what humans are at the end or the day when facing a bigger predator.

Fwump.

Feyd looks her way, the dead body dropped, and blood covers his hand like a shiny glove of ink, dripping down the blade tip in a drizzling stream. The light catches on the sharp edges of his alabaster skull and all she sees is a new, terrifying breed of human, birthed by a world of poison and decay. There are millennia between them. They may share the same DNA but that doesn't mean he is not an alien to her. 

In the end, the man from her dreams is not the man of her dreams.

Out the door? - Blocked! Death!

Off the balcony?! - Death!

To the Sarcophagus then. To her gun.

She turns and sprints, feet skidding over the shards of her rose-colored glasses, but Feyd pounces, a beast hungry for carnage, and catches her around the waist, hurling her backwards with the strength of three men. His blade clatters to the ground.

"No, wait. No. NO! NO! You can't go," he howls. "You cannot leave me!"

Wailing, she thrashes in his grasp and slams her elbow into his guts, her foot against his shin, then his crotch and the soft flesh there is squashed by her heel. When his hold slackens, she twists away and bolts, bare toes slipping across icy marble, but blood-smeared fingers find her shoulder, tearing on the fabric. She throws herself away from him so hard, the seam starts coming apart, so his other hand flies to her throat, steel-hard fingers curling around clammy flesh, yanking her around and against the wall.

She can't be looking at him like that, like he's the devil. Like he looks at his uncle.

Desperately, his lips search for hers but she jerks her head to the side, bites, scratches, nails burrowing into his throat. No is the word that Feyd-Rautha raps out between violent kisses that seek her pulse point with his tongue and teeth, no, she can't ever leave him, no, not ever, even if she hates him like everyone else. Her fear poisons the sweat on her neck and her nails don't egg him on, they hurt. He takes a knee to the guts and his lungs pop open for a harrowed cry.

Pain used to be pleasure but everything hurts, she doesn't love him anymore. One more meek and quiet final 'no' as he abandons the assault on her neck and his slackened arms wrap around her middle, hiding his face from rejection in her shoulder's soft flesh. Tears drip hotly, finally. All day and all night he's been waiting for the cathartic downpour, but not even the most pitiful plea could rouse a sliver of empathy in the hollow of his chest. Now he bawls like a baby forgotten in its crib and his blood-soaked hands seek purchase at the back of her shirt.

The woman grows still, nails still wedged inside the bloody crescent indents in his neck. Her lungs ache when she draws a trembling breath and Feyd-Rautha's hard, heavy chest moves with her, no more fight left in him. Quietly, she cries with him and curls her arms around his round shoulders, holding him there as he clings to her like an abandoned child and sheds tears for all the hurt and all the fear.

The man of her dreams is still there, somewhere, under the alien shell, vulnerable, weeping.

"You hate me, don't you?" A broken sob.

Looking over his head, the dead guard's viscera glitters darkly on the hallway and she is surprised to realize that even now, she doesn't hate him.

Feyd continues: "This is why I never wanted you to know who I am. I am awful."

"You're not awful," she whispers, fingers slipping around the back of his head, nails rimmed darkly by Feyd's blood.

"I have to be awful. I was born to be awful." 

"That's not true…" He was groomed to be awful.

But Feyd isn't finished. In a fashion of now or never, confessions spill out of him like poison rain. "I killed my mother when I was four. I don't remember why. I killed my pets. I kill men for sport. I kill people for fun. I kill because it's the only thing I can do. Yesterday, I-" His voice breaks. "I killed anyone I could find and no one fought back. I lo-o-ost count."

A full glass can't get any fuller when pouring more water, so shock and disgust are lost to the acceptance that has smoothed over the crescendo. They're just information to be added into a folder in her head. Feyd killed his mother. Feyd kills people for fun. Still, she holds him, fingers sliding up and down the back of his head as his shaky sobbing turns breathless and ugly.

"Okay," she whispers and rests her cheek on his head, exhaling softly so her warm breath fans his scalp. "For fun?"

"Ye-e-es."

"So, you had fun last night when you-" She swallows. "Killed?"

"No."

She lets out a thoughtful hum and Feyd's grip on the small of her back tightens. Still, he doesn't dare look at her and tears and snot have soaked her shirt. With her emotions currently defective, her ability for logic is still sharp, and so she concludes, it does all make sense.

Her poor Feyd, a current had pulled him under when he was barely a child and then layer after layer, he has been building his armor so as not to drown in the maelstrom of abuse. With every kill, a little boy has been screaming for help in an empty room.

Soft lips press a kiss to the crown of his head and Feyd's breath trembles in her hold, a beast tamed by a loving caress. That's all it takes.

Just because she understands his actions, doesn't mean she endorses them.

"Will you still be my wife?"

"I haven't decided yet." Another kiss so gentle, it taunts the corpses stacked up in the processing hall.

"So, we're no longer engaged?" 

"I don't think we ever were, not to me. But that doesn't mean I don't love you."

Dizzily, Feyd-Rautha raises himself. If not for the fingers twisted into his woman's shirt, he might just topple back into the spinning vortex at whose edge he is teetering now, one foot in heartbreak, the other in salvation. Blue eyes crack open, rimmed with dark blood vessels. She doesn't flinch, doesn't bolt, only her hands slide to the front of his suit and slip under the lapels, thumb rubbing where his heart hammers.

Feyd sees the tracks of dried tears on her cheeks and the shadow of horror tucked away in the corners of her eyes in a way that is all too familiar to him. More than anything, he wants to delete the images from her head and close the door, kick the blade under the bed, pretend it never happened. He tried to do everything right, got her flowers, hid her away in her own room away from state matters, made love to her with all his heart, but at the end of the day he is still who he is when he can't hide within a dream and it'll never be enough.

"Feyd, is… Is Lilia okay?"

"Yes, she is," comes the earnest reply and she exhales shakily, head sinking against Feyd's chest, arms sliding around his waist beneath the suit where his skin is burning hot.

"Thank God." Her voice warbles, the only warning before her knees give out and every other muscle along with them. The pair sink to the cold, hard ground.  "I just want to go home," she sobs and crawls in her beloved's lap which is still the only place in the cold, hard universe that soothes her soul.

Not her sarcophagus, although it is tempting to freeze herself up again and sleep forever. No, it is still him. A new home, not what she had imagined, but a home.

"Me too," Feyd sighs and squishes his cheek against the top of her head, closing his eyes to envision the bedroom of their shared dream, blue pillows, a white bed, a softly rustling fern in a terracotta pot, her in his arms. Home.

How easy it would be to demand of him: 'If you kill one more innocent, I will leave you!' But she might just kill more than she saves that way, and maybe him too, and maybe herself.

"Feyd, can you-" She sniffles. "If you get angry again, please never hurt Lilia. And whoever the new guard will be, don’t hurt him either. Can you do that for me please?"

"I promise." He squeezes her tight, eyes screwed up so tightly that he sees only dizzying stars. "I love you. I'm sorry."

She cannot fix the whole world, but she can start where she can see. It's not a solution, but a sapling, and a sapling can grow.

Mother Father How did I end up here, stone bound? All I feel ist the striking distance to the clouds My flesh is fettered on the skin of the soil But even so I almost reach the sparks in the void Sailing through the vacuum, am I drowned or alive?

- Cepheus by Fewjar

A/N: Okay, I promise promise this was the angstiest chapter, we're climbing uphill from here!! 🥺🥺🥺 Hand over your guesses, what do you think will happen from here? 😌💕 Thank you so much for all of your time!

TAG LIST:

@nostalgichoya, @forgedfromthestars, @sweetiee-o, @missbingu, @minedofmoria

@sebastianswallows, @charmingballoon, @flower-frog, @welliah, @aoi-targaryen

@coastalcowgirl35, @esolean, @szapizzapanda, @tatertooted

[the-traveling-poet]

Hi love! I’ve read a levi x reader where the reader was Levi’s lieutenant and they had a secret relationship and I just liked it so much… so I’d like to ask could you do a Levi x lieutenant reader where the reader gets injured during an expedition out of the walls and they have a secret relationship, but like, Levi cannot show too much affection cause of course he is “ice cold Captain Levi” but he is so worried for her? I’m feeling a bit sick lately, stuck at home with the flu and wanted to cheer myself up… thank you anyway! ❤️

Priorities

Being Corporal Levi’s Lieutenant was a demanding job. As well as being his second in command, you doubled as his personal assistant. Though you were always up for the job, sometimes it was tough.

But not as tough as keeping the two of your’s relationship behind closed doors and away from prying eyes.

One particular expedition gone wrong might just bring to light a side of Levi the rest of the Scouting Regime hasn’t seen before; The one that only you get to.

Pairing: Corporal Levi x Lieutenant!Reader

Warnings: Angst-to-fluff, long fic, language, descriptions of wounds, secret relationship. SFW, xReader, Multiple POV’s, S1

A/N: Ofc! I too am a sucker for “secret relationship” tropes, so I was really excited to write this one out! I downed 4 shots of tequila and speed wrote this. I’m not ashamed of myself, just a little surprised. I hope it’s to your expectations, and if not I will happily redo whatever you prefer~

Get well soon babe!🤎 Enjoy~

Typically, you preferred to go through your warm up routine before sparring. Stretching, running a couple laps, exercising your legs to ensure flexibility; the usual.

But today, you didn’t get that luxury.

Landing on your ass for the third time in twenty minuets, you huffed a sigh of frustration.

The hell is his problem?

“Get up, L/N.” A bored tone called down to you.

Brushing the dirt off your rear, you pulled yourself to your feet and tried your best to keep your expression neutral. Levi paced closer to you, arms folded across his chest and his brow furrowed.

“Your stance isn’t steady, so you keep falling on your ass. How many more time do I have to knock you down before you realize this?” he continued.

Slowly bringing your arms up to salute him, you met his steely gaze.

“Yeah yeah, sorry sir,” you muttered. Typically, backtalk or anything of the such wouldn’t be tolerated, but you were an exception. A fact that still baffled the rest of the Special Operations Squad.

Rolling his eyes, he turned his attention to the small group watching your matches.

“That’s enough for today. Clean up and get down to the mess hall.”

“Sir!” his squad responded with salutes of their own, and were quick to follow his orders.

Petra stalled for a moment, shooting you a concerned look over her shoulder before she followed after the others. She was a sweet girl, you thought. She’s come to you many times about her concerns for the way your Captain treated you, but you’d always reassured her that you and Levi simply just butted heads more often than not.

Once they were gone, you sighed and threw a look over at your Captain.

“Yknow, if you’d have let me warm up first, those fights would have ended differently.”

“You think on the field you’ll have time to stretch your pretty legs before you fly after a titan’s nape?” He responded, but this time his tone wasn’t so harsh.

“What’s up your ass?” You grinned, stepping closer to him.

“Your attitude,” he smirked ever so slightly. He looked you up and down quickly, then glanced around your surroundings. You two were alone on the training grounds. His posture relaxed slightly as he reached out to fix some of your lose hairs.

“You know I push you because I want to see you succeed,” he stated softly.

“I know, Lee. I know,” you smiled back, taking his hand out of your hair and into your own. “I’m starting to think your ‘reverse physiology’ isn’t working, though.”

“What do you mean?” He raised a single brow as he squeezed your hand and slowly led you back to the entrance of HQ.

“Acting harder on me to hide the fact you love me. It’s just drawing us more attention.” You shrugged.

Levi sighed, almost in defeat. “I suppose you’re right. I don’t like being hard on you. But with our positions in the Corps…You know this isn’t allowed.”

You mimicked his sigh, briefly leaning your head against his shoulder before the doors opened. Though all too soon, he pushed open the doors and let go of your hand, his face immediately set with indifference.

“I’ll see you tonight. Eyebrows wants us Captains and Section Commanders to report to him before tomorrow’s expedition.” He murmured softly in your ear before taking his leave, leaving you to find your own way to the mess hall for the evening.

Sitting with your companions, you picked listlessly at the food on your plate. Eld and Gunther were too caught up in their own conversation to notice your melancholy demeanor, while Oulo was far too focused on his plate to care.

Petra sat to your right, sipping from her cup but keeping a close eye on you. Catching her stare, you shoot her a reassuring smile.

The 56th expedition beyond the walls was the following day, and needless to say it weighed heavily on all your minds.

Petra placed a hand onto your shoulder and tried her best to smile back. She returned her attention back to her food, and you were quick to follow suit. But the longer you sat there, glancing up towards the empty seat at the head of the table, the less of an appetite you had.

If only we didn’t have to hide…

═════════════════

Stepping out of the shower, you wrapped a towel loosely around your body before braiding back your hair. You’d ate what you could stomach in the mess hall, then decided to retire to your room early to avoid having to socialize with anyone.

And by your room, you meant Levi’s personal room. You’d been staying with him for awhile now, though you’d have to sneak in early and leave even earlier in the morning to avoid being caught by anyone else.

Slipping on one of his shirts and a pair of shorts, you left his private bathroom and entered the bedroom.

“Well don’t you look lovely.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, and as it was you barely muffled a gasp.

“Shit Levi, I didn’t even hear you enter.”

Levi sat on the corner of his mattress, loose carvat around his neck and uniform straps removed from his torso and legs. He offered you a minuet smirk, then stood and strode over to you.

“Usually, you’re not in here till later,” he observed aloud.

“I wanted to retire early. Get a shower in, relax…See you…” You muttered sheepishly, playing with the hem of the shirt you wore.

Giving you a soft smile, his arms quickly found purchase around your waist. Immediately you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and laid your head on his chest with a contented sigh.

You both stayed like that for a handful of minuets, living in the peaceful moment life had decided to grant you this evening. Suddenly, with a sigh, Levi slowly released you.

“Listen…About tomorrow-“

“I know, I know. ‘Stay close to the squad, don’t be a dumbass, and don’t die.’” You recited with a chuckle. Rolling his eyes with a huff, Levi led you to sit on the bed beside him.

“Precisely. You’d better watch yourself out there. I need…We need more moments like this; together. Can’t do that if your dumbass doesn’t come back.”

“You, too. You may be ‘Humanity’s Strongest Soldier’ and all, but I don’t want to see a single cut on you when we’re back.” You poked his at his chest playfully and leaned into his warm embrace.

“Yea, dear.” His mocking tone didn’t go unnoticed by you, but before you could retort, you found yourself falling sideways onto the bed. Levi had shifted on the bed and let you fall forward so that he could stand up.

“Erwin made a comment tonight,” he spoke over his shoulder as he gathered up a change of clothes for himself.

“Oh?” You propped yourself up on your elbows to follow him with your eyes.

“Said ‘You and Lieutenant Y/N make a good team. We’ll need you both on the far right of the formation.’” Levi quoted as he slipped on a new shirt.

“Then he pulled me aside after the meeting. ‘Don’t let personal feelings get in the way of the mission. I understand this may seem unfair to ask, but I’ve seen the way you look at your second in command .’, so I said I wouldn’t.”

Scoffing back a laugh, you grinned. “It’s a little too late for that.”

“By about two years, yeah.” Levi hummed in agreement, joining you in bed with a relaxed sigh.

You were quick to snuggle up to him, and his arm instinctively draped over your waist. Laying your head back onto his chest, you looked up at him. Only to find his gaze already on you. You knew that look in his eyes…

“Hey, I will come back. I always do,” you reassured him in a soft whisper.

“You’d better. I’m not sure what I’d do without you here,” he whispered back, letting his eyes close shut.

Placing a kiss on his cheek, you snuggled under the covers and closed your eyes. “You won’t ever have to find out,” was the last thing you whispered before you let your exhaustion take over.

═════════════════

3rd person POV

“The 56th expedition is about to begin; prepare yourselves!”

Commander Erwin’s voice boomed from the front of the formation, reaching every soldier under his command. With cheers from the civilians gathered around to see them off, Levi snuck one last glance over to you. Giving you a confident nod, he gripped the reins from atop his horse and stared straight ahead.

Soon enough, the gates opened wide, and the Survey Corps spilled out at a gallop.

For the first hour, everything was going smoothly. A handful of titans here and there were quickly dealt with by the S.O.S. Onwards they raced, until a splitting scream broke the eire silence hanging over them. Whipping her head forward, Y/N was quick to shoot her ODMG onto the nearest tree and grapple onto it. Despite her Captain’s screams of protest, Y/N was off.

Only a moment passed, and Levi had lost sight of her amongst the forming group of titans.

Half an hour later, Commander Erwin had called for a retreat. What had originally been a mere observation exposition, had turned into a blood bath. Only half the soldiers sent out had returned to the vantage point, and most were wounded.

Whether it be a deep cut or a punctured lung, the field medics were kept busy.

Captain Levi slid off his horse hastily, looking around at everyone gathered. His eyes scanned the loose crowd anxiously, but not once did his eager gaze meet yours. Panic bubbles up in his chest, but he manages to keep calm.

On the outside, anyways.

Once a frantic Preta comes running over to him, out of breath and panting, does he get a clue as to your whereabouts.

His ever present mask starts to shatter, and in an instant he’s sprinting across the open field towards the medic tents; your name on his lips.

The moment he entered one of the several tents set up not far outside the walls, the make-shift camp went silent.

Cadets and Captains alike all paused in their tasks when a broken cry came from the larger of the tents set up.

Everyone turned their heads towards the sound. A sight lay before them they never thought they would ever see before; Humanity’s strongest solder nearly buckling under his own weight, clutching at the flaps of the center most medical tent as he cried out in fear.

Many crowded around him, fearful for his safety and curious of any injuries he might have sustained. But once they were able to see over shoulder, the truth hit them like a punch to the face.

Levi had rushed to one of the beds in the tent, falling to his knees and grasping the hand of the person who laid unconscious under the sheets.

Pushing through the crowd, Commander Erwin and Section Commander Hange softly gasped at the sight of Levi’s second in command, Lieutenant Y/N, out cold on the cot.

“The hell are you doing?! Tend to her, that’s an order!” Levi barked out harshly to one of the medics, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

For a moment, no one knew what to do. Every rumor of the raven before them being unemotional quickly went out the window as they finally understood.

The cold man did have a heart. And it belonged to you.

═════════════════

Reader’s POV

The last thing you remembered, was rushing out of formation to save the poor cadet caught in the grasp of a fifteen meter. Your blades were at the ready, gleaming in the sunlight reflected off the cloudy sky overhead.

The moment you freed the cadet from the monster’s grasp, you realized a fatal mistake you’d made; you’d gotten too close to its mouth.

In a moment of panic, you twisted yourself in midair and made to get away, but you were far too late. In a mere second that seemed to last an eternity, you felt a searing white hot pain erupt near your right hip. Screaming out in pain and frustration, you managed to swing your arm back just far enough to jab your blade into the titan’s lip, causing its jaw to lock for a moment as it processed what you were doing.

This gave you enough time to wiggle your way out from between its teeth, shooting your ODM gear hooks into its shoulder and glide away.

Despite the amount of blood you were losing, as well as the blinding pain that threatened to render you unconscious at any moment, you’d swung yourself up into a sharp arch and sliced through its tough nape.

With the titan’s corpse, you fell as well. An intense ringing sounded in your ears when you opened your eyes, only to see the young cadet hovering over you with tears in their eyes. Faintly, you heard them mention a medic, but then your eyes shut against your will.

Before you lost consciousness, your mind drifted back in time, to a moment you last remembered experiencing joy. That very morning, in fact.

The way you’d woken up cocooned in the arms of your lover, feeling warm and safe. Not a care in the world, as you ignored your soon to be pending responsibilities. The way you had looked up and seen his smile, so bright and genuine and filled with such love.

If this is it, then I’m glad he’s the last thing I remember seeing…

Some time later, much to your confusion, your eyes cracked open to see a window. Sunlight poured through, nearly threatening to blind you as you lifted a weak arm up to block the light.

A groan left your lips as you tried to sit up, only to find you couldn’t manage the movement on your own. Reaching down below the covers that covered your midsection with your other hand, you felt the distinct material of thick medical wraps around your midsection. It was slightly damp, and you caught the faint whiff of blood.

Confusion clouded your judgment, causing you to try and remove the bandages to see what exactly was wrong with you. You supposed you were back in HQ, safely within the infirmary. Yet when you tried to shift your shoulders forward to remove the cloths, you suddenly became aware of a weight pressing down on your left shoulder.

Turning your head, you squinted your eyes at the veil of raven black hair obscuring your vision.

Only one thing came to mind when seeing the color…

“Levi?” you managed to croak out.

Immediately the weight shifted, and a face rose up from your shoulder where it had previously rested. Tired grey eyes met yours, and immediately widened.

“Y/N,” Levi whispered, almost in disbelief. Sitting up straight in the chair he sat in beside your bed, his hand immediately came up to cup the side of your face.

“You’re awake…”

“No shit, babe.”

Biting back a chuckle, he leaned forward and rested his forehead against yours.

“You’ve been out of it for three days…How do you feel? Can I get you anything? Water? More blankets? Do your wraps need replaced yet?”

“Levi, baby, slow down…What-what happened?” You couldn’t help but for a soft chuckle to escape you at his worried tone. Immediately, a scowl took over his face.

“Your dumb fucking ass got hurt. You promised…You idiot.” He whispered, his eyes giving him away. He could look as mad as he wanted, but his eyes would always tell you exactly what he was really thinking. He was scared shitless, but also relieved.

“I’m sorry,” you cooed softly, running your shaking hands through his hair. “I wanted to save that kid. They looked so scared…Ao helpless…But what matters right now, is that we’re both safe. We made it back in once piece.”

Levi took your words into consideration, his brow furrowed and his eyes frantically searching your face. Finally, with a sigh, he leaned in and pressed his lips to your gently. It wasn’t a rushed kiss, nor a heated one. Moreover, it was soft. Reassuring, for both you and him. Kissing him back just as softly, you allowed your tense posture to relax softly.

Breaking away, his face stayed within an inch of yours as he caught his breath. “Don’t you ever dare scare me like that again. I made a fucking fool of myself out there, thinking I was too late…”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” you chuckled teasingly.

“Shut up, you know what I meant,” he breathed, his breath hitting against your now damp lips.

“I’m sorry. I really am, Lee. But I’m not going anywhere.”

Looking you in the eye for confirmation, Levi seemed to come to terms with your statement and leaned in once more, quickly taking your lips back to rest against his own.

From the infirmary threshold, the door creaked open slightly. Yet neither you nor Levi seemed to notice.

On the other side peaked in a curious Hange and a concerned Erwin. Upon seeing the sight displayed before them, Erwin had to hold Hange back from squeaking in excitement.

“I told you something was going on between the two of them!“ they shouted in a hushed voice.

Shaking his head with a weary smile, Erwin closed the door to the infirmary and headed back down the hall with the scientist.

“I know. They think they’re clever in hiding it, but two years ago I walked into Levi’s office and saw something similar. But for now, let’s let them continue to live in blissful ‘secrecy’ a little longer.”

[sidekickjoey]

In the summer of '86, fresh off of saving the world, Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler get blonde highlights.

Be it a coping mechanism after handling the hell that was spring or simply a mutual need for change, the decision is made without nervousness from either party. They enter the salon together, swear up and down to their assigned hairstylists that, yes, this is what they want and no, they do not care that their hair already looks perfect as is, thanks, and leave donning notably different looks.

Steve's signature chestnut ends up woven between streaks of gold, giving him a sort of distracting glimmering effect when he walks out into the sun. Nancy's waves, though still shoulder length and crimped to perfection, sway almost completely and utterly blonde in any light.

Needless to say, their new looks quickly make them, the former it-couple of Hawkins, the talk of the town once more - including that of their two closest friends, Eddie and Robin.

They, unlike the general public of Hawkins, have spent the past few months slowly building massive crushes on Steve and Nancy, entranced by their might after surviving the horrors of the Upside Down. While to most a change in hair color for Steve and Nancy is merely an oddity, to them? It's like someone hit the panic button and left them to scatter in a secluded room.

Robin has only been over her gaga-for-Vickie phase for a few weeks now. The wound is still fresh, and she knows she should not be looking once again into a possible unrequited love situation until she is better healed emotionally. She also knows he has a weakness for blondes that goes beyond all reason, i.e. Tammy Thompson and her muppet singing voice. She shouldn't act and possibly jeopardize one of her most sincere female friendships over a silly little weakness like that.

However, Nancy looks like a vision in blonde.

Robin thinks it's her big doe eyes that do it. They pop when the blonde meshes with Nancy's fair skin, and it makes her heart swoon in the most debilitating of ways. Not to mention, the softer cut she got along with the lighter coloring frames her face so well. Robin swoons over it. If not for her fear of rejection, she probably would have already taken the leap and done something stupid, like confess how Nancy's scrambled her brain.

Eddie's not doing much better himself with Steve.

He had been there in the early days, when Scoops Ahoy's newest worker showed up in his first edition of golden highlights. Like any good Hawkins resident, he had handled it with poise, class, and lots of extra trips to Scoops Ahoy whenever he happened to be at the Starcourt Mall, along with frequent whisperings of 'what the hell' expressed in the confines of his room where no one could hear him freak out. T'was standard™.

This look, though...it blows Scoops Ahoy Steve away by miles.

It's bright. It's golden. It's like he slipped and fell into some kind of radiant daydream, only to emerge like a ray of sunlight to distract Eddie Munson and Eddie Munson alone, and Eddie can't shut up about it.

Seriously, Wayne has heard enough.

The issue is, he has next to no idea what to do about these feelings. His mind is screaming to make a move on the guy, because you only live once and, well, he's already on his second try. However, his little worried heart loves Steve's newfound companionship and whatever odd-couple friendship they have going on right now. He doesn't want to lose that because of some dye job and a trim. It's too important, too good.

So, like Robin, he finds himself refraining.

They both refrain, and over the next week or so, the decision to do so eats at them like mad. They stumble over their words when speaking to Steve and Nancy. They actually stumble physically, in Robin's case, when Nancy walks by one morning. They tell anyone and everyone they can about it aside from Steve and Nancy, and by the end of that week, it all hits a breaking point. Word slips for the sake of everyone's sanity to Steve and Nancy.

It should mark the beginning of havoc and betrayal.

Instead, it breeds two plans.

Because, here's the thing: Steve and Nancy are not dumb, contrary to what some might think. They are wildly observant people. They know what their friends are up to, and Robin and Eddie are high on that friend list after spring. They've seen their behavior and, though Nancy had to spell a little bit of it out for Steve, both have come to the conclusion that something is definitely up in the crush department. If they want to capitalize on it, they know there is no better time than now while their haircuts are still new and their own crushes are seeking an opportunity to spill their feelings.

Nancy's plan to handle Robin, to the untrained eye, is simple. She's known for carefully thought out strikes when people least expect them, and the last thing she's going to do is stop using that tactic to her advantage now.

So, she invites the other girl on a trip to the mall for new bracelets. She claims it's on account of Holly taking hers hostage (not a total lie) and needing time out with someone her age (also not a total lie), and Robin buys it in seconds. A day later, they meet up at a boutique mall just outside of Hawkins and roam for a few hours together. It's simple. Casual. Subtle enough to be innocent from afar yet just intimate enough for Nancy to make her move when the time is right.

The time becomes right when they're sitting at a booth in the food court, chatting about Holly's other jewelry-related crimes. Nancy accidentally knocks the fork for her salad off the table, catching the attention of them both. Robin is quick to say she's got it, but Nancy is faster. Ready. She reaches down, picks up the fork, and in a fit of bravery, makes damn sure she holds eye contact with Robin the entire way back up. Robin swallows and looks away, clearly flustered and trying to behave over such a small thing as eye contact. But, Nancy doesn't want her to ignore it this time. So, she pulls a cheesy line from Steve's old book (that she totally did not rehearse with Steve, not at all) and misbehaves, just to get the ball rolling.

Batting her eyes, she asks in her most casual drawl, "Sheesh Robin, do blondes always make you this nervous?"

Robin chokes on her milkshake. 'Accidentally' knocks over her own fork. Goes down beneath the table to - not subtly - whisper-scream about what the hell that just was, because what the hell was that? Hello?

Nancy finds it incredibly endearing. She kind of wants to tell her about it.

She joins Robin on the floor to do so and giggles, freakin giggles, at Robin's shock and awe over her being there. Robin, panicked, reaches for the fork she dropped and holds it up to Nancy for her to see like it's some kind of explanation for her huddling under the table a full minute after it fell. She then stutters out a small 'got it,' despite Nancy being a goddamn journalist who notices things for her job and is fully capable of using her own two eyes to see, what the heck Robin??

Nancy still finds it all so endearing, though she doesn't think saying it out loud would be the best course of action anymore. Her last words sort of sent the poor girl into a spiral, and as fun as it is sharing this cramped space with her, she kind of wants to get off the gross tile if at all possible. So, instead, she does the next best thing and expresses her fondness physically.

With a kiss.

On the mouth.

Hidden by the table but all-too-real and seen to Robin, who forgets how to breathe because oh my gosh. Oh my GOSH.

It's perfect. It's effortless. It's everything. It's hands-down worth the hours of waiting Nancy had to do under a hairdryer in foils to get her here, and even more worth Robin's adorably rushed confession after the fact that she's always liked blondes, just a little bit.

~~~~~~

Steve's plan is a lot different than Nancy's.

He is a tried-and-true passionate romantic after all, and Eddie is about as dramatic as Shakespeare. A casual outing or demure kiss under a table is just not going to cut it in terms of a confession for either of them. Steve knows this. He tells it to Nancy. Repeatedly.

After hours of back and forth over the phone, he eventually finds himself at a music store, equipped with a wad of cash and his eyes set on an, admittedly, badass looking guitar. It has blue flames along its black exterior that rise to its very top and are lined with a reflective silver, making it glimmer even in the dim light of the shop. Eddie's been moaning about losing his sweetheart to the Upside Down for weeks -- no, months at this point. Steve thinks this blue beauty would be a perfect replacement for her. He also thinks it might just be what they need to stop dancing around each other's feelings too, if he's lucky.

He purchases it and stows it away in his bedroom before calling Eddie over the following day. The boy is all nerves when he finally arrives. Steve doesn't help ease them by running his hand through his hair more than once, but what can he say? It's a tough habit to break, and he's been doing it ever since he's hand anything more than a buzz cut. Sue him.

After pleasantries about their day are discussed and Eddie appears to be more calmed down, Steve invites him upstairs for a 'surprise' that just about undoes all the poor boy's progress at once.

Because Steve didn't just place the new guitar in its case and put a bow on it to surprise Eddie. No, he propped that sucker on its stand, bought a small light to illuminate the silver and blue, and placed a little card on the case that said, 'To Eddie, from your sweetheart.'

Steve watches as Eddie physically has to reboot upon seeing it all. He then rushes to cover his ears as Eddie returns to consciousness with a full-blown yell, running over to his gift with repeated 'no way's that get higher and higher in volume with each utterance. All noise ceases when he finally reads the card, though. That's when Steve feels safe enough to drop his hands to his side and make his approach, a shy grin on his lips.

"Like it?"

"Y-You're my sweetheart?"

With a shrug, Steve once again cards a hand through his hair. "If you want me to be. I-I mean, I assumed you would want me to be with all the looks you've been giving me, a-and everything with the Upside Down. But if I've got that wrong, if...shit, maybe I should just-"

Their first kiss is messy, wet, and way too enthusiastic.

Eddie's all teeth from how wide he's smiling into the kiss, and Steve nearly falls over from the sheer force of the guy barreling into him. He grows a bit dizzy, too, from how firm Eddie's grip on his hair has him, and that does little for his already frazzled balance. But, it's perfect. It's so stupidly them and perfect and wild like Steve had hoped it to be, like Eddie hoped it to be.

Later, when Steve leaves Eddie to enjoy his guitar in peace and breathe because, yeah, he finds himself making a mental note to call Nancy when he's home. If this is what one round of highlights gets him, he'll be damned if they don't plan another round for touch ups soon.

Stepping inside, Steve catches sight of a blinking light on his answering machine that tells him Nancy'd be damned, too.

He smiles.