#i had caffeine for the first time in months my brain is racing and i need a nap

[levandright]

And oh, how I'd love to go Paris again

pairing : jake x f!reader ୨ৎ content / warning(s) : non-idol au, love at first sight, fluff, strangers to friends to lovers(not stated but heavily implied), tension, they're in love your honor, fate reference/mention, can be read as either hs or uni au its up to you ୨ৎ word count : 5.9k

synopsis. you're overwhelmed with your school finals close by, while you are taking a short break from your studying, you couldn't help but reminisce about your precious memories in the city of love when a song that reminds you of your time in paris play. ୨ৎ lev notes : the class trip may not be 100% accurate but its for the plot okay... i had to make it inspired by the 1975 cause i love them too much not to do so + it fits with how i literally have them as my top artist this year :3 (i started writing this days earlier before spotify wrapped lol) also i literally had paris on loop for like 7 hours in total while writing this... anyways hope y'all like this cause it took a lot of brain power to write it, trust i will post what the heart wants as soon as i finish a surprise fic im working on rn ꒰⠀for @sugarikiz event 'ʏᴏᴜʀ ℰ𝓎ℯ𝓈 ᴏɴʟʏ ☁︎.𖥔 ' ꒱

you're at your school's library, cramming for your upcoming finals. with a little over a week to prepare for months' worth of lessons across multiple subjects, the pressure is taking quite a toll on you. two cups of coffee sit beside your laptop, one already empty. even though you've been studying for less than 40 minutes, you already feel the urge to down all the caffeine left in front of you just to keep from dozing off again.

sigh, 'just gotta finish this whole powerpoint. then, i can finally relax for a bit' you silently hype yourself out. with the reward of a break for an hour of studying, you quickly go through the entire lesson in a flash.

grabbing the not empty cup of coffee, you take a much needed sip to keep yourself awake for more hours of studying.

a while later, you're stretching in your seat after having finished with that specific powerpoint. 'finally i can take a break' you think to yourself

as you sit, and stare at your laptop's screen. contimplating on what to do to pass time, you decide to play music to relax yourself.

clicking the shuffle button on your playlist. you put your headphones on and rest your head on your arms, as the familiar tune of paris by the 1975 play.

the music pulls you into a memory, that unforgettable class trip to paris.

꒰ and oh, how i'd love to go paris again ꒱

you’re on the bus, the city outside the window slowly coming to life. everyone in your class is chatting excitedly, pointing out landmarks and planning what to do when you finally get off. the eiffel tower is getting closer, its towering frame making your heart race with excitement.

“can you believe we’re actually here?” keeho says, leaning over to nudge your shoulder. his energy is infectious, and you can’t help but smile.

hyunjin, sitting across the aisle, snaps a quick photo through the window. “this already feels unreal,” he says, grinning. “i’m going to fill my camera roll today.”

the bus comes to a stop, and your teacher announces a short break to explore the area. the three of you quickly stick together as everyone spills out onto the cobblestone street. paris feels alive—the air smells like fresh bread and coffee, and the chatter of locals blends with the hum of passing cars.

“we need food. let’s find a café!” keeho declares, already marching toward a row of cozy-looking places with outdoor seating.

you follow, laughing as hyunjin drags you by the wrist to keep up. he’s scanning every building, taking quick snapshots of anything that catches his eye. “wait, stand here,” he says suddenly, pulling out his phone to snap a candid photo of you and keeho in front of a flower shop.

“are you going to take pictures the whole trip?” you tease.

“obviously,” hyunjin replies, unbothered. “someone has to document how good we look in paris.”

eventually, the three of you settle at a small café. the waiter brings over menus, and you all take a moment to soak it all in. keeho orders a slice of cake, hyunjin gets a croissant and coffee, and you decide on a simple baguette sandwich.

“okay, this is officially the best food i’ve ever had,” keeho says after his first bite.

“it’s just cake,” hyunjin says, rolling his eyes but stealing a forkful anyway.

you laugh as they bicker, feeling a warmth settle in your chest. sitting there with your best friends, surrounded by the magic of paris, everything feels perfect.

after finishing your meals, you and your friends head back to the bus to regroup with your class. the energy is buzzing as everyone talks about their plans for the rest of the day. your teacher announces that the next stop is a famous museum nearby.

the museum is grand, with high ceilings and beautiful architecture that makes you feel small in the best way. inside, it’s quieter, with your classmates dispersing into smaller groups.

hyunjin immediately pulls out his camera again. “this lighting is perfect,” he mutters, snapping a photo of a sculpture in the corner.

keeho rolls his eyes with a smirk. “he’s gonna be like this the whole time.”

“he’s consistent, at least,” you joke, earning a laugh from keeho as the two of you start wandering through the exhibits together.

the artwork is stunning—paintings that feel alive, sculptures that seem to breathe. you and keeho take your time strolling through the halls, sharing your thoughts on each piece.

“i don’t get this one,” keeho says, staring at an abstract painting.

“it’s open to interpretation,” you reply.

“so… the artist spilled paint everywhere?”

you nudge his arm. “be serious!”

keeho grins but then glances around. “hey, i’m gonna find the bathroom real quick. don’t get lost.”

“sure, sure,” you say, waving him off.

as he walks away, you wander aimlessly, letting your feet carry you through the museum’s winding halls. you stop to admire a large painting of a serene countryside when, out of nowhere, you bump into someone.

“oh, i’m so sorry!” you blurt out, taking a step back.

the stranger turns to you, and your words catch in your throat. he’s tall, with warm eyes and a gentle smile. his presence feels calm, yet somehow magnetic.

“no worries,” he says, his voice warm and calm, with a hint of an australian accent you catch right away. “are you okay?”

you nod quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up. “y-yeah, i wasn’t looking where i was going.”

he chuckles lightly, brushing it off. “happens to the best of us.”

he pauses for a moment, as if waiting to see if you’ll say anything else. you manage a small smile. “thanks for being so nice about it. i’m—uh…” before you can finish, keeho’s voice rings out from somewhere nearby.

“hey, y/n! where’d you go?”

the spell is broken, and you glance over your shoulder to see keeho waving at you. turning back to the stranger, you offer an apologetic smile. “that’s my friend. i should go.”

“of course,” he says, still smiling. “take care.”

you hurry off toward keeho, your heart still racing. as you rejoin your friends, you glance back briefly to see the stranger walking away. something about the moment lingers, a small spark you can’t quite explain.

after regrouping with keeho and hyunjin, the three of you continue exploring the museum. hyunjin has finally tucked his camera away, much to keeho’s relief.

“didn’t think i’d ever see the day you’d stop taking pictures,” keeho teases.

“i’m just saving space for later,” hyunjin retorts, grinning. “besides, i want to actually enjoy this.”

the three of you move through the museum, pausing at different exhibits. keeho offers more of his hilarious “critiques,” while hyunjin points out details you might’ve missed. for a while, it feels like time doesn’t exist, just the three of you soaking in the beauty of parisian art.

after some time, you excuse yourself to find the restroom. as you leave, keeho calls after you, “don’t get lost again!”

“i won’t!” you call back with a laugh, shaking your head.

once you step out of the restroom, you turn a corner and nearly bump into someone again.

“oh—sorry!” you start, looking up. and there he is.

the boy from earlier.

“you again,” he says with a warm smile, his eyes lighting up with recognition.

“yeah, me again,” you reply, feeling your face heat up.

“i guess we’re just destined to keep running into each other,” he jokes, his tone light and teasing.

you laugh softly. “seems like it. i never got your name earlier.”

“jake,” he says, extending his hand. “and you?”

“y/n,” you say, shaking his hand. his grip is gentle but firm, and you feel your heart skip a beat.

“nice to officially meet you, y/n,” jake says, his smile widening.

the two of you start chatting, the conversation flowing easily. he tells you he’s here with his own group, visiting from another school all the way from australia, and you share a little about your own trip. his voice is calm and steady, and his subtle humor keeps making you giggle.

at one point, he gestures toward a nearby painting. “what do you think of this one? please don’t say the artist spilled paint everywhere.”

you burst into laughter, shaking your head. “no, no, that’s keeho’s specialty. i actually think it’s kind of beautiful, in a chaotic way.”

“good answer,” jake says, grinning.

before you know it, the sound of footsteps and familiar voices echo down the hall. “y/n! where are you?” keeho calls, his voice unmistakable.

you glance in the direction of the sound, then back at jake, your smile faltering slightly. “that’s my friends. i should go.”

jake nods, his expression soft. “of course. it was nice talking to you, y/n.”

“you too, jake,” you say, stepping away reluctantly. as you walk toward your friends, you can’t help but glance back once. jake is still standing there, giving you a small wave.

you rejoin keeho and hyunjin, who immediately start teasing you for taking so long. but as the three of you continue exploring the museum, you can’t stop thinking about jake. and though you don’t say it out loud, you quietly hope that fate will bring you together again.

it’s been a day since the museum, but your thoughts keep circling back to jake. his kind smile, the way he made you laugh, and that unmistakable australian accent—it’s all stuck in your head.

after dinner with your classmates at the hotel, the buzz of chatter feels overwhelming. you decide to step outside for some fresh air, hoping a quiet walk will help clear your mind.

the streets of paris are calmer at this hour, bathed in a soft, golden glow from the streetlights. a small park just down the road catches your eye, and you wander toward it, settling onto a bench beneath a tree.

you sit there for a while, letting your thoughts drift. the cool breeze carries the faint scent of flowers, and the distant hum of city life feels oddly soothing.

suddenly, you feel someone sit down beside you. you glance over, and your heart skips a beat.

it’s him.

jake.

the boy you couldn’t stop thinking about.

he notices your surprise and gives you that same warm smile. “hey,” he says casually. “fancy seeing you here.”

you blink, struggling to process the coincidence. “jake? what are you doing here?”

“could ask you the same thing,” he says with a light chuckle, leaning back against the bench. “i was out for a walk, saw this park, and thought i’d sit for a bit. didn’t expect to run into you again.”

you laugh softly, shaking your head. “paris must be smaller than we think.”

“or fate has a funny way of working,” he says, his tone teasing but his eyes sincere.

the conversation flows naturally from there. he asks about your class trip, and you tell him about your visit to the museum and all the places your group plans to see next. he shares stories about his own class, laughing about his friends’ antics and the moments that make the trip memorable.

“you’re telling me someone actually fell asleep in front of the mona lisa?” you ask, barely holding back laughter.

“yup. full-on snoring,” jake replies, grinning. “the security guard didn’t know whether to wake him or leave him there.”

the two of you laugh together, the sound blending into the quiet of the park.

after a while, jake stands up. “wait here,” he says, his tone playful but mysterious.

“where are you going?” you ask, watching him walk toward a nearby food stand.

“you’ll see,” he calls back over his shoulder.

a few minutes later, he returns, holding two neatly wrapped chocolate crepes. he hands one to you with a grin. “figured this would make the moment even better.”

you take it, smiling at his thoughtfulness. “thanks, jake. this is perfect.”

as you both sit there, enjoying the crepes and chatting under the parisian sky, you can’t help but feel like this moment is something straight out of a dream.

the days in paris pass like a blur, filled with sightseeing, laughter, and the magic of simply being in the city. but the most unexpected highlight of your trip that osn’t on the schedule—is jake.

you can’t quite explain it, but somehow, you keep running into him. these little moments have become the thing you secretly look forward to the most.

────୨ৎ────

you’re standing at the counter of a small café, debating between ordering a croissant or a pain au chocolat. the decision feels monumental, and you’re entirely lost in thought when a voice interrupts you.

“go for the pain au chocolat,” jake says, appearing beside you with an easy smile.

you blink, startled at first, before breaking into a grin. “jake? what are you doing here?”

“getting breakfast,” he says, holding up a cup of coffee and a bag. “didn’t think i’d see you again so soon.”

“neither did i,” you reply, chuckling. “are you always this lucky, or is paris just this small?”

“maybe both,” he teases. “need help deciding?”

“i was leaning toward the croissant, but now i feel like i have to trust your judgment.”

“always trust the chocolate,” he says, nodding sagely.

you laugh and order the pain au chocolat. as you wait, the two of you chat, his humor making the simple café feel like the best spot in paris.

────୨ৎ────

a couple of days later, you’re wandering through a mall with keeho and hyunjin, trying to find souvenirs to take back home. keeho is busy debating between two scarves for his mom, and hyunjin is glued to his phone, looking up recommendations.

you drift toward a small kiosk filled with handmade trinkets, running your fingers over delicate keychains.

“don’t tell me you’re buying one of those cheesy eiffel tower keychains,” a familiar voice says behind you.

you spin around, your heart skipping a beat. “jake!”

he’s holding a bag of his own, filled with souvenirs. “fancy meeting you here.”

“again,” you add with a laugh.

keeho spots jake and gives you a knowing look, while hyunjin just raises an eyebrow before wandering off. you try to ignore them and focus on jake instead.

“what’s in the bag?” you ask, nodding toward his purchases.

“just some stuff for my family,” he says. “and maybe a keychain or two.”

you laugh. “i thought you were against cheesy keychains.”

“only when other people buy them,” he says, his grin mischievous.

────୨ৎ────

the park has become your little escape, a quiet place to think and reflect. you’re sitting on the same bench as before, lost in thought, when you hear footsteps approach.

“do you have a permanent spot here, or are you waiting for me?” jake’s voice breaks through your daydream.

you turn, smiling as he sits down beside you. “maybe both.”

“lucky me, then,” he says, leaning back and looking up at the sky. “so, what’s on your mind today?”

you hesitate for a moment, then decide to be honest. “just… thinking about how much i’ve enjoyed this trip. and how strange it’ll feel to leave.”

jake nods, his expression softening. “yeah, i get that. it’s been a lot, hasn’t it?”

“yeah,” you say quietly, and for a moment, the two of you sit in comfortable silence.

that evening. your teacher gathers the entire class in the lobby of the hotel to deliver the news.

“you’ve got two days left to enjoy paris before we head back home,” she says. “make sure you start packing your things and grab any last-minute souvenirs.”

the room fills with murmurs of excitement and relief. most of your classmates are thrilled to return to canada, and part of you is, too. but as you head back to your room, a bittersweet feeling settles in your chest.

two more days. that’s all the time you have left before you have to say goodbye to jake.

you don’t know why the thought stings so much, but it does. and now, more than ever, you hope for one more chance to see him.

────୨ৎ────

the second-to-last day in paris feels like a blur of excitement and nostalgia. you, keeho, and hyunjin make it a mission to visit as many places as possible, squeezing every last drop out of your remaining time in the city.

as the three of you step into the vintage store, you're greeted by the faint smell of aged leather and a mix of retro music playing softly in the background. the shop is packed with everything from old records to racks of vintage clothes and shelves lined with random knick-knacks.

“okay,” keeho announces, clapping his hands together. “this is the place to find hidden gems.”

hyunjin raises an eyebrow. “hidden gems or overpriced junk?”

“you just don’t have the vision,” keeho shoots back, already digging through a rack of jackets.

you wander toward a glass display case near the counter, something catching your eye—a vintage digicam. it’s small, sleek, and looks like it’s been well cared for. you kneel to get a closer look, curiosity piqued.

“hey, what’d you find?” keeho asks, appearing beside you with a leopard-print scarf draped around his neck.

you point to the camera. “a digicam. looks pretty cool, doesn’t it?”

keeho leans in, inspecting it. “very cool. are you gonna get it?”

you hesitate. “i don’t know… do you think it still works?”

“only one way to find out,” hyunjin says, suddenly appearing on your other side. he gestures to the shop owner, a kind-looking older man, who unlocks the case and hands you the camera.

you examine it closely, turning it over in your hands. the lens looks clean, and the buttons feel intact.

“how much?” you ask the shop owner.

“twenty euros,” he replies with a smile.

keeho gasps dramatically. “a steal! you have to get it.”

“yeah, before someone else does,” hyunjin agrees, casually flipping through a rack of shirts.

you laugh at their enthusiasm and decide to go for it. “alright, fine. i’m buying it.”

as you hand over the cash, keeho strikes another pose with the scarf. “what do you think? parisian chic, or should i stick to my usual?”

“stick to your usual,” hyunjin says without looking up.

keeho sighs, draping the scarf back onto the rack. “you two have no appreciation for drama.”

you test out the digicam, snapping a quick photo of keeho mid-pout. the image pops up on the tiny screen, surprisingly crisp for something so old.

“perfect,” you say, showing him the photo.

keeho grins. “okay, maybe you do have an eye for the dramatic.”

hyunjin wanders over with an oversized sweater, holding it up against himself. “thoughts?”

keeho wrinkles his nose. “are you auditioning for a grandpa role?”

“i like it,” you say, defending hyunjin’s choice.

“thank you,” hyunjin replies, smugly tossing the sweater over his arm.

the three of you spend a bit longer in the shop, goofing around and trying on random hats, sunglasses, and jackets. you snap more photos with your new camera—keeho wearing an old captain’s hat, hyunjin attempting to look cool in aviator sunglasses, and a candid shot of the two of them laughing together.

by the time you leave, the bag with your new camera swings lightly at your side, and your heart feels full. the memory of this moment—just you and your friends being unapologetically yourselves—already feels like a keepsake all its own.

at a small crêperie, hyunjin’s crêpe is covered in whipped cream and chocolate drizzle.

“how are you even holding that without it falling apart?” you ask, staring at the overloaded treat in wonder.

hyunjin shrugs. “skill,” he says simply before taking an enormous bite.

keeho watches in horror. “that’s going to end up all over your shirt, and i am not letting you borrow mine.”

“you sound like my mom,” hyunjin says through a mouthful of crêpe.

by the seine river, you take turns with the digicam, capturing moments that feel like they belong in a movie. keeho makes exaggerated poses on the bridge, while hyunjin tries (and fails) to look mysterious.

when it’s your turn to hold the camera, you take a candid shot of the two of them mid-laugh. it’s perfect—pure and genuine, a reminder of how much these moments mean to you.

“alright, photographer extraordinaire,” keeho says, pointing dramatically at the eiffel tower in the distance. “get my good side.”

“you don’t have one,” hyunjin jokes, earning a glare from keeho.

as the day winds down, you find yourself lingering outside the hotel while keeho and hyunjin head inside.

“we’ll be in the lobby if you need us,” keeho calls over his shoulder, giving you a knowing look.

once they’re gone, you make your way to the park. the same bench, the same tree, and this time, jake is already there, waiting.

he stands when he sees you, his smile soft but bright. “hey.”

“hey,” you reply, walking up to him. “beat me here this time, huh?”

“had a feeling you’d come,” he says, shrugging.

you sit down beside him, the quiet of the park wrapping around you like a blanket.

“you’ve been busy,” jake comments. “i saw you earlier near the seine with your friends. looked like fun.”

“it was,” you say, smiling at the memory. “trying to cram everything into one day, you know? time feels so short now.”

jake’s expression shifts, just slightly, and you know he understands what you mean.

“speaking of time…” you begin, hesitating. “we’re leaving tomorrow. my class is flying back home.”

jake nods slowly, his gaze dropping to his hands. “i figured it was coming. my group leaves the day after.”

there’s a pause, the kind that feels heavy but not uncomfortable.

“do you think we’ll meet again?” you ask softly, not daring to look at him.

“i hope we do,” he replies, his voice quiet but firm.

the weight of his words lingers between you, saying everything that neither of you can.

you pull out your digicam, breaking the tension with a small smile. “can i take some pictures? you know, to remember this?”

jake’s face brightens slightly. “of course.”

you snap a few shots—some posed, some candid. jake laughing at something you said, jake looking off into the distance, and finally, one of the two of you together, taken with his help.

as the night deepens, you know it’s time to go. you stand, reluctantly. “i should get back before my friends come looking for me.”

jake nods but doesn’t move. instead, he reaches out, gently taking your wrist.

“wait.”

you turn, surprised, as he pulls something from his jacket pocket—a pair of silver rings, simple and elegant.

“for you,” he says softly, slipping the smaller one onto your right hand’s ring finger. the fit is perfect.

your heart races, words failing you as he looks at you, his gaze full of unspoken meaning. then, he leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“goodbye, y/n,” he murmurs, stepping back.

it takes you a moment to find your voice. “goodbye, jake.”

as you walk back to the hotel, your mind replays the moment over and over, the cool metal of the ring on your finger grounding you in the surrealness of it all. that night, lying in bed, you can’t help but wonder if the universe will bring you and jake together again someday.

꒰ paris again, and again, and again, and again, and again ꒱

a tap on your shoulder pulls you out of your thoughts, and you lift your head groggily. you blink, trying to focus on the person standing in front of you. it’s keeho, grinning mischievously, while hyunjin stands behind him, sipping his americano with a slightly amused expression.

“y/n, what are you doing?” keeho asks, leaning in and waving his hand in front of your face.

you yawn, rubbing your eyes. “i’m taking a break. i can’t even keep my eyes open for more than a minute.”

hyunjin raises an eyebrow. “yeah, we can tell. you’re practically sleeping at your desk.” he leans against the back of your chair, his voice cool but teasing. “how about you stop pretending to study and actually join us for once?”

keeho’s grin widens as he jumps into the conversation. “we’re heading to a café to study, and you’re coming with us. you need a change of scenery.”

you groan, feeling your body resist the idea of leaving the comforting quiet of the library, but deep down, you know you’ve been at it for too long. a change of pace might be exactly what you need.

“come on, y/n,” keeho insists, his voice full of that playful energy you can’t ignore. “we’ll make it more fun. you can’t study like this. plus, you’ll probably get more done with us around.”

you hesitate for a moment, your mind torn between the need for a proper break and the looming pressure of your exams. still, you can’t deny how much you need a little distraction. “fine,” you sigh, finally giving in. “but if we end up just talking the entire time, i’m leaving.”

hyunjin chuckles, giving you a knowing look. “i think you’ll be okay. we’ll actually study this time. promise.”

keeho grabs your arm, pulling you up from your seat with a playful tug. “good, because you need us to keep you sane. now, let’s get out of here.”

as the three of you leave the library, you let out one last sigh, knowing that even though you might not get as much studying done as you hope, you could definitely use the company.

the café is warm and inviting, the soft hum of background chatter mixing with the aroma of fresh coffee and baked goods. it’s a stark contrast to the quiet, studious atmosphere of the library, and you find yourself breathing a little easier as you step inside.

you find a small corner table and set your laptop down, letting out a contented sigh as you settle in. keeho and hyunjin head to the counter to order, leaving you to fidget with your feet, trying to shake off the weight of the past few hours spent studying.

your eyes flicker to the window, watching people pass by as you idly tap your fingers against your coffee cup. eventually, you stop, catching sight of the ring on your right hand.

you pause, fingers tracing the smooth metal, your mind drifting back to paris. “it’s been three years since that time in paris,” you think to yourself, a wave of nostalgia washing over you. the memory feels distant now, like a dream you’re not quite sure was real.

you wonder if jake still remembers you, if he thinks about you at all. you’d been so wrapped up in the magic of those moments, so caught up in the fleeting connection between the two of you, that you’d completely forgotten to exchange socials, to keep in touch.

a soft laugh escapes you, tinged with frustration. you can still picture your past self—so carefree, so caught up in the magic of the moment, never once thinking about the things you should have done. and now, years later, it stings.

the photos you took back then are all you have left—memories frozen in time, but still, you find yourself wishing you had more. a way to bridge the gap between then and now, something more than a ring on your finger that’s become a quiet reminder of what you left behind.

a soft laugh from keeho breaks you from your thoughts, and you glance up to see him and hyunjin walking toward the table, their arms full of coffee cups and pastries. keeho places your cup down in front of you, his expression softening when he notices the faraway look in your eyes.

“you okay?” he asks, settling into his chair across from you.

you smile faintly. “yeah, just… thinking about paris.”

hyunjin raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push. he simply places a croissant in front of you and nods. “we’ll make it through these finals. paris will still be there when you’re done.”

you nod, but the bittersweet smile remains on your face, the question still lingering in the back of your mind. will you ever see jake again?

you manage to get some work done, but there’s plenty of laughter and light-hearted banter between you guys. hyunjin and keeho constantly bicker over the most ridiculous things—whether iced coffee is better than hot coffee, or if studying with background music is productive.

“you’re seriously telling me you don’t like the classics?” keeho says, shaking his head dramatically. “what kind of music do you even listen to, hyunjin?”

“i listen to music that doesn’t make my brain want to shut down,” hyunjin replies with a smirk, taking a sip from his americano. “but hey, if you need classical music to study, you do you.”

you laugh at their back-and-forth, shaking your head at their silly rivalry. the sound of their bickering is strangely comforting, distracting you from the pressure building up inside your mind. you feel a little lighter, even if it’s just for a moment.

after a while, you excuse yourself and head to the bathroom inside the café, needing a quick break from the endless cycle of notes and coffee. the place is busy, but the hum of quiet conversations and the scent of freshly brewed coffee make it feel comforting.

you take your time, refreshing yourself and letting your thoughts wander for a few moments. when you finally finish and head back out, you’re not paying attention to where you’re going, still lost in your thoughts.

and then—bam.

you collide with someone, the force making you stumble slightly. your reflexes kick in, and you immediately start bowing in apology, your words rushing out in a flurry of embarrassment.

“i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean—”

but before you can finish, you hear a familiar voice, soft and warm, with that unmistakable australian accent.

“y/n?”

you freeze, and the world seems to stop for a moment. you slowly lift your head, and there, standing in front of you, is none other than jake. in the flesh.

for a split second, all your words get caught in your throat. your heart races, and your brain scrambles to process the unexpected reunion. this can’t be real. is this a dream?

jake’s brows furrow slightly as he looks at you with concern, his voice softening. “are you okay?” he asks, stepping a little closer to you, clearly worried about your sudden silence.

you blink, feeling your heart thumping louder in your chest as you try to find your words, but they’re nowhere to be found. you stand there, staring at him, completely at a loss for what to say.

he leans in slightly, just enough to make sure you’re okay, his face showing that familiar concern. “y/n?” he gently says your name, and your body snaps back to reality.

“i—uh… sorry, i just—didn’t expect to see you.” you feel the heat rush to your cheeks, embarrassment flushing your face. "i thought… i thought i was imagining things."

jake chuckles softly, his expression softening with a smile that makes your heart flutter. “i didn’t expect to run into you here either.” his tone is light, playful, but there’s something in his eyes—something that makes the air feel a little thicker.

you both stand there for a moment, awkward silence hanging between you. the familiarity of this moment feels surreal, but there’s no denying the warmth that spreads through you at the sight of him.

“so, uh,” you start, finally finding your voice, “what are you doing here? i didn’t expect to run into you… again.”

jake’s lips curl into that familiar, soft smile. he shrugs nonchalantly, but there’s a glint in his eyes, something unspoken. “guess it’s just fate.” he says, his tone playful but there’s a layer of sincerity underneath it, one you can’t quite ignore.

you chuckle lightly, but the tension between you both is palpable now, thickening the air around you. there’s an undeniable pull between you, something that neither of you have fully acknowledged, but it’s there, lingering in the space between your words. you feel the heat of his gaze, and the sudden awareness of how close you both are makes your heart beat just a little faster.

“so… how’ve you been?” you ask, needing to break the moment but also curious, wanting to know everything about him since that last time you saw him.

jake rubs the back of his neck with a small, shy smile, a gesture you remember well. “i’ve been good… just been busy, you know. but i’ve been thinking about our time in paris a lot.” his voice is casual, but his eyes hold something deeper, a hint of vulnerability that you weren’t expecting.

you nod, understanding exactly what he means. you’ve been thinking about paris too. every memory feels like a treasure, something you’ve carefully tucked away, not wanting to forget any part of it. you wish you had more time to ask him about the things he’s been up to, to know if he’s felt the same pull that you have, the connection that neither of you can explain.

you glance down at your hand absentmindedly, and that’s when you see it—the ring he gave you in the park, so simple yet so meaningful. the silver band glints in the soft café lighting, and your heart does a little flip.

jake notices too, his gaze dropping to your hand. his smile softens, almost imperceptibly, but you notice it. there’s a quiet understanding between you two that you don’t need to speak aloud.

“i see you’re still wearing it,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost tender.

you look up at him, meeting his eyes, and for a moment, everything else fades away. you feel like you’re back in paris, standing in that park, with everything still ahead of you, full of hope and possibility.

“i didn’t want to take it off,” you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

jake doesn’t say anything at first, his eyes locked on yours. then, without warning, he reaches out slowly, his fingers brushing lightly over your hand, and he gently presses a kiss to your right hand, right where the ring rests. the simple gesture feels like it speaks volumes, and you can’t help but feel a surge of warmth spread through you.

“i’m glad,” he says softly, his voice just above a murmur. “i’m glad you kept it.”

for a moment, neither of you speaks. the world feels like it’s holding its breath. the space between you feels charged, but neither of you is in a rush to break the silence. it’s as if this moment, this small, quiet exchange, is enough.

you blink, still a little stunned by the gesture, your heart racing, but a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. you can’t help but feel the warmth in your chest, the way his simple action makes you feel seen, valued, even though you never really said all the things you wanted to say.

when you finally speak, your voice is soft but steady. “i didn’t think i’d see you again.”

jake takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “i didn’t either, but i’m glad i did.”

enha perm taglist. @dazzlingjaeyun @honeychocos @manaah02 @kozumesphone

©levandright

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 2: love confession

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

Reblog if you liked it!

When Spencer watched you enter the office he felt that strange thing again. It was as if his stomach was turning completely, his heart was racing uncontrollably and his brain was turning off completely. And that had been going on for the past few months which, honestly, had become a pain.

“I knew we would be the first to arrive” you laughed, extending one of the two cups you had in your hands towards him “I bought you one.”

“Bless you, I needed my morning caffeine” he laughed, and when he heard you laugh that empty feeling returned. It was as if your presence triggered symptoms of a strange illness that he didn't know how to cure and that morning he woke up knowing that he was going to clear things up. “Hey, can I ask you a personal question?”

“About me or your person?”

“About me,” he clarified and you smiled, leaning against his desk so you could hear him better. You nodded your head, so he could start telling you whatever he had to say. “I've been feeling strange… but I guess I don't know why that is.”

"What are you talking about?"

“It's been happening to me for a few weeks now. I have had heart abnormalities, my hands sweat, my face feels hot, and out of nowhere I become a nervous wreck and I feel a knot in my stomach. All at the same time and that is horrible”

“Jesus Christ, Reid…” you began, genuinely concerned. “And have you been to the doctor?”

“No, because my symptoms only appear when I see… a specific person. But I don't understand why it is, do you think there is an allergy to a human person?

You watched him for a few seconds, digesting what he had just said and wondering if he meant it; his expectant look suggested to you that it was so, and you kept thinking until you could find the right words for an answer.

“Are you telling me that all this happens to you only when you see that person?”

“Yes,” he admitted, oblivious to anything you were implying.

“And it happens at another time? You know, like when you think about that person” you murmured cautiously, watching him reflect afterwards and finally nod his head frantically.

“It's strange, right?”

“And haven't you thought that you might not be sick, but in love?” 

"In love?" he muttered confusedly, as if it were an impossibility “That's absurd.”

“Why would it be? All of that sounds to me like your body gets excited when you see that person and it can only be if you are in love with them” you smiled, truly amused by the matter “It's something completely normal.”

"But that can’t be. It would mean that I am in love with you.”

Spencer didn't mean to say that. Spencer pretended to think that. But once the words left his mouth and he realized the mistake he had just made, he felt all the blood rushing to his cheeks. He only meant to ask you what all that was about, you weren't supposed to know that you were responsible for it. 

"What did you say?"

"Nothing"

“Do you feel all that when you're with me?” you asked stunned, verifying your theory with the simple blush on his cheeks. Your friend's silence was prolonged, until he felt he owed you an apology for such an indiscreet outburst.

"I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable”

“You didn't,” you admitted, reaching out to pat his knee “I'm just surprised. And you flatter me, in a way."

“Can we just pretend this didn't happen?” he asked, his eyes squeezed shut in shame and his hands fiddling with each other.

You leaned in his direction and planted a kiss on his nose that forced him to open his eyes and look at you.

“I also feel that whole chemical mess when I'm around you. There is nothing to be ashamed of” you laughed, feeling his soft gaze on you and almost hearing his heart beating rapidly “Now get to work. They don't pay you to be pretty”

And the memory of that exchange was enough to keep Reid working with a sweet smile on his face all day.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl

[ratflavoredpopsicle]

I've been thinking about how reverse mermaids don't have a name of their own and have a suggestion

So a mermaid is half girl half fish yes with the top half being girl and the bottom being fish. Mer being a descriptor of maid aka "fish girl" you percieve the creature to be girl first and then fish making girl the noun and fish the adjective.

So with this logic we can assume that "maidmer" would be a creature with the top half of a fish and the bottom half of a human with the first percieved attribute being fish "mer-" and the second being human "maid" thus making "mer" or fish the noun and "maid or girl the adjective or descriptor.

So "maidmer" or "girl fish" but that doesn't exactly role off the tongue and mer is usually a beginner not and ender. Substituting the prefix mer- meaning marine with a word like Mariner and add the descriptor maid to the front we'd get "maidmariner" removing repeat letters would leave us with "maridner". For the sake of easing speach I'm removing the harsh "r" and "d" because they make the word clunky and hard to say.

This leaves us with "Mainer". And as you may know Maine is a coatal state in the northeast of the U.S.

In this essay I will -

[lemonjoonah]

The Garden Thief (M)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Word Count: 9.3K Genre: Hybrid AU, romance/drama/comedy, enemies to lovers Warnings: Unprotected sex, oral sex (fem. rec.), they get down and dirty outside but no one else is there to see them, cum play? (just a little), there’s also a bit of mud (sorry, but also not sorry, they’re outside what do you want from me?!?!), referenced hybrid neglect and oppression (hybrids are wrongfully deemed as pets by law and the majority of society).  

Summary: Your beloved vegetable patch has once again been victimized by a hungry thief in the night. The prime suspect? Jeon Jungkook, your neighbour's rabbit hybrid. But when you finally confront him, he pleads innocent, and proposes a plan to clear his name.

A/N: I wrote this fic’s premise and opening scene for the ‘A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words Game’ that I played oh so long ago and now I’ve finally finished the tale!

...

“Oh for fuck’s sake, not again!” You swear upon seeing the leafy green remains of several carrots lying in your garden, inches from where they used to be buried. This maddening mystery of the vanishing vegetables has been playing out all summer. You’ve set out deterrents for every possible garden pest, rolling out chicken wire and spraying natural remedies to repel anything from bugs to small rodents. Yet you still wake to find that your garden has been robbed in the night. The only possible suspect you haven’t been able to protect against resides just next door, in fact—

You squint up at the boarded fence, spotting a pair of long dark ears peeking out over the posts. “Jungkook, is that you?”

The ears immediately disappear, ducking down behind the barrier. The sound of his hurried footsteps trailing away are followed only by the slamming of a door.

You rush into and through your own house carrying the wilted carrot greens. Exiting out the front, and over to the house next to yours, where you repeatedly press the bell.

The entry whips open on the fourth ring to reveal Jungkook. His face is flushed, beads of sweat racing down his brow, and a shirt that one would normally use to cover their chest, is instead thrown over his shoulder. “Something wrong neighbour?” He asks with a carrot stick in hand. Bringing it to his mouth, he taunts you with a bite and crooked grin.

“Is-is your caretaker home?” You stutter trying your best to swallow your nerves. Concentrating hard on his face, you plead with your eyes not to wander down. That’s exactly what he wants, a reason to put you off your mission, to make you so flustered that you have to walk away. He’s always trying to use his allure against you, and you hate how often he succeeds doing just that...  

“No, he’s at work.”

“When will he be back?”

“Not sure, maybe a week, or two? He’s on a business trip.”

Your gaze falters in it’s determination for a brief second as a drop of sweat descends from his neck to his chest. Holding your breath you watch it’s path, tracing the valleys between his muscles. When Jungkook finally wipes it away your brain catches up and scolds you for your weakness. “And he left you here, alone?”  You ask, while trying to recollect your dignity, reminding yourself of how much grief he has put you through.

“Of course.” Jungkook’s smile grows. “I’m not just some common pet. I know how to behave myself.”

The statement makes your brow twitch, enraging you enough to overcome his tactics. “I know you haven’t been here long, but you should know, people typically don’t like it when someone steals from their yard.” You lecture him, waving the carrot tops in front of his face. “So stop treating my garden like your own personal snack bar!”

“Now why would I take from you? I have plenty of food here, even got another delivery this morning.”  The hybrid kicks at a box next him filled with a vibrant collection of fresh produce and grains.

“I don’t know why. I just know it was you.”

“Prove it.” He prods, while taking the last bite of the vegetable from his hand.

The loud crunching gnaws on your composure, stripping you of any patience you may have had for the hybrid. “This all started when you moved in, and I’ve ruled everything else out!” You shout, but as good as it might feel to finally vent your anger, you feel as though you’re somehow playing into his hand.

“That doesn’t seem like very good evidence. It’s circumstantial at best. If you want to find out who the real culprit is you should have a stake out.”

“A stake out?”

“Yeah, you know, watch over the garden for the night, catch the criminal in the act. I could even help if you’d like.”

You scoff at the ridiculous notion. “You really think I should invite you over to guard my crops?”

“I do, so I’ll come over tonight? Say around seven?” You open your mouth to object, but the rabbit hybrid jumps from one statement to the next casually inviting himself into your own home. “Perfect. See you then.”

“I didn’t-no wait, that was sar-” The door closes between you before you can finish. Leaving you baffled and alone on the doorstep. You ready to knock but stop just before your knuckles hit the wood. Trying again right now is a lost cause, it’ll just play into his game. So why waste your breath when you know it’ll just end the same way? Tonight then, as he suggested, that’s when you’ll be ready to hit him with some hard evidence that he won’t be able to refute.

Admitting defeat for now, you retreat back to your garden to pick the surviving vegetables and contemplate the encounter. You wish your could have just spoken to Jungkook’s caretaker—fuck what was his name again? You’ve only seen the man a couple times since they took the house, but at least he doesn't give you a nervous knot in your stomach, or leave you confused and speechless like his hybrid does.

It’s been three months since they moved in. You were excited at first, to have new neighbours in your almost vacant cul-de-sac. Buyers don’t seem to be interested in the old houses with large lots in your area. Too much work to maintain, and not enough good job prospects to go around. So when you saw the sold sign go up you were beyond thrilled. Greeting the new residents with a fruit basket and a smile.

The rabbit hybrid you now know as Jungkook appeared rather shy at first, you did your best to welcome him. Always greeting him when he was outside, trying to engage him in small chat, but the first time you caught him during his workout everything changed. Until that point you had not considered him as anything but a prospective friend. You were stunned to see him in such a confident state, throwing around his weights like they were nothing. In that moment, with you too nervous to admit that you found him attractive, you became the anxious and blubbering fool in his presence, and he, unfortunately, took note. The once quiet and cute rabbit, became a flirtatious and bratty bunny.

And since then, whenever you would work in your garden he’d be on the other side of the fence grunting and panting. Staying close to the gap in the divider, a missing panel you had yet to replace. On days like today you would often look up from your radishes and accidentally lock eyes with the hybrid, drenched in sweat and showing off his skills.

Out of respect and self preservation you tried your best to not to pay attention, to keep your nose buried in your garden, but as the weeks went by the vegetables under your care started to disappear. The ample crops you tended to in the evening, lessened by morning, with only the refuse remaining to indicate it’s former presence. You didn’t want to point fingers immediately, but today was the final straw, and tonight no matter how hard he tries to distract you, you will find him guilty.

After harvesting the choice crops for the day and watering the rest. You dust yourself off, settling inside and in front of your computer; opening the visitors page for your place of work, the city's greenhouse conservatory. To help promote the centre in the community the staff all take turns writing articles revolving around their own projects or home gardens, and you’re up next in the rotation. You stare at the blank document for several minutes trying your best to concentrate on the task, but you are unable to think of anything other than the mischievous hybrid next door.

Embracing the topic of your aggravation, you start the post off with a title sure to catch the eye of any reader, ‘Garden Thieves.’

‘We’ve all been there, finding a tomato just about to reach its peak ripeness. We give it another day to grow into perfection, only to find it missing later on. In your absence something else has taken it into its own clutches. I myself have been dealing with a vegetable thief for several weeks, so if you are struggling like I am, here are a few things that might help. ’

You proceed to outline several garden pests uploading photos of their damage, along with quick remedies to deter their presence. Netting to block the sparrows, raised beds and fences to keep out most rodents or mammals, and a caffeine solution to stave off slugs.

‘I hope this may help you all in your efforts to keep your plants safe, but I must add a disclaimer. Unfortunately nothing here is completely foolproof. Even if you do follow all of these steps you still might lose some of your crops to a crafty critter. But I wish you the best of luck on all of your backyard battles. I myself plan to face off with my own long-eared menace tonight.’

You finish your post with a smile. Sending it off to your coworker Namjoon to get his approval before you make it public.

He calls a few minutes later, his laughter carrying through the speaker. “That was easily the best article you’ve written all year. You should definitely post it.”

“Thanks.” You chuckle, hitting the submit button. At the very least feeling a bit relieved to have one less task weighing on your mind. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. I take it you’re still having trouble with that hybrid neighbour of yours?”

“Yeah,” you groan. You’ve complained to Namjoon about the issue several times in the past month. It must have been all too easy for him to read between the lines and see what set you off to create this specific entry.  “But he refuses to admit it was him. It’s like he’s trying to make me question my skills as a gardener and I hate it! I went over to talk to his caretaker but he’s away on business for a couple weeks.”

“He left him alone for that long? What about food?”

“He’s been getting deliveries. By the looks of it, he has a healthier diet than I do.”

Namjoon pauses on the line giving you only a simple, “Huh...” in a long break.

“What?”

“Well it’s just-” A loud buzzing sound erupts through the phone line cutting off his answer. A noise you know to indicate someone is at the back door. “That’s weird. I didn’t think we were supposed to get anything delivered today. No one else is here.... did you have anything scheduled to come in?”

“No.” You double check the calendar sitting on your desk. “I shouldn’t have anything until next Monday.”  

Namjoon puts you on hold while he checks on the reason for the interruption, returning only a minute later. “It’s a delivery all right, but are you sure these aren’t yours? I’m seeing a lot of tropical species on the invoice. Combretum rotundifolium, Heliconia angusta, Myrciaria dubia-”

You mouth a swear as Namjoon carries on with his list. It’s obvious they are indeed the specimens of your expected batch. You're in the process of redesigning one of the tropical habitats. The lead director was adamant that the conservatory host a butterfly exhibition in the next coming year, and in order to support the grandiose endeavour you are required to introduce a vast amount of new flowering species over the next few months. “How many in total?”

“About two dozen. Looking pretty rough from the journey too.”

You’re not surprised by their current state. This summer is already one of the hottest and driest on record, and all the stock you had received this season was excessively wilted and near death because of it. “Do we have any holding houses with humidifiers available?”

“Not at the moment,” There’s a clatter in the background as Namjoon sorts through what must be the slack of clipboards. “But I’ve got the inspection chart here and your last delivery did just finish it’s quarantine. No signs of pests or illness, so they’re clear to plant. That should free up some space for you.”

“That’ll have to do. Thanks for checking.” Standing up from your desk with a sorrowful sigh. You mourn the loss or your afternoon off as you start to dress for a day of hard labour. Throwing on your work-issued overalls over your t-shirt and shorts. Unfortunately you can’t just leave the new stock to sit out under the beating sun. With little humidity outside and no protection they’ll be burnt to a crisp if you delay too long. But the worst part is that your planting staff isn’t scheduled until later in the week, and that volume of work will put you well into the middle of the night before you complete it. “I’ll be in soon to deal with it.”

“That’s a lot of planting to do on your own. I can help if you-”

“I can’t take you away from your trees, isn’t there a bonsai exhibition next week you have to prepare them for?” He’s been agonizing over this showcase for so long you couldn’t possibly inconvenience him now with your own troubles. “It’s fine, really. I’ll call to see if anyone else is willing to come in today.” You hang up letting Namjoon return to his tasks, and work your way down the contacts for the gardening staff as you prepare yourself to leave. Though as expected, all of those who answer have prior commitments and won’t be able to assist.

Grabbing your badge and plans for the updates to the garden you slip back out into the noon-day sun, so strong it’s turned your car into an oven on wheels. You’re just about to pull it into reverse when you spot the blinds shift in your neighbour’s window. Prompting you to recall the plans he had made for tonight.

With all the work you have, it’s doubtful you’ll be back home for seven. You return to Jungkook’s door to give him the news. He has it open before you can even knock, his usual smirk crawling across his face as he greets you.  

“About tonight... something has come up at work and I really don’t know how late I’ll be.”

His ears perk up. “You’re going into the conservatory?”

“Yeah,” you respond, somewhat shocked that he remembered where you work. It’s been a couple months since you mentioned it while introducing yourself to him and his caretaker. “An order came in earlier than expected. I’ll likely be planting all day and night.”

“I can help,” he offers, already stepping out to join you, and locking the door behind him.

“You want to help?”

“Of course, isn’t that the neighbourly thing to do?”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t want it or expect it from someone who terrorizes my own garden.”

“Allegedly,” Jungkook corrects. “And wouldn’t you rather have me with you, under your supervision, than here, all alone with only a measly fence between me and your impressive bell pepper harvest?”

“Stay away from my peppers!” You scold, pointing your finger at him. “Even if I wanted to take you, what about your caretaker? Don’t you need his permission to leave and work?”

“He’s never paid attention to my whereabouts before, and it’s not work if you don’t pay me. I’ll just be a volunteer. You have people volunteer all the time right?”

“Yes but-”  

“I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

“Alright, fine.” You finally agree though with a heavy dose of reluctance. Namjoon often brings his own hybrid in so it shouldn’t be a problem. “But if I see you nibble on even a single leaf, you’re coming straight back here.”

“Deal.” He rushes past you straight to your passenger seat and buckles himself in. Practically bouncing with excitement beside you as you pull out and head towards the conservatory.

The minutes pass and you try your best to focus on the road but you’ve never been so close to Jungkook in such a small space. And with his built frame taking up most of the car, he’s hard for you to ignore. His ears folded against the roof and his shoulders so wide they brush repeatedly against yours.

“Ever been to the conservatory before?” You ask, trying to divert your mind from the battle which builds inside you. A wavering war between frustration and attraction, with the former trying it’s best to pin down the latter, a move which only arouses the latter more...

“No, I’ve wanted to go ever since you mentioned it but my caretaker hasn’t had the time.”

“Oh.” A sense of pity joins the ranks of your emotions, nudging at you as you pull into the lot. “Sorry, I didn’t-”

“Why are you sorry?” Jungkook asks in a low whisper, snapping back to his flirtatious behaviours. His mouth turns up at the corner as he leans into you, so close that his drooping ears graze the top of your head.  “Would you have taken me earlier if I had mentioned it?”

“N-no,” you choke out. Placing your hand on his solid chest, you push him back and away. As tempting as his advance might be to accept, you know his forwardness to be nothing more than an act to make a fool of you. Why else would he try to both seduce you, and steal from right under your nose?  “You’re only here today because I am in desperate need of help, and I can’t trust you to be alone.”

...

You lead him through the unoccupied greenhouses. The conservation is closed to the public today (as it is every Monday and Tuesday); which usually allows for some time off, but at least now it’ll give you a chance to work unimpeded by visitors. Your own curated section is located in the most humid of all the houses, set in such a way to mimic the tropical environment you are attempting to represent.

The first stop is the holding house where the carts of new stock wait just outside.  Grabbing an empty trolly you enter and start to load up those that are ready to plant. Jungkook following your actions does the same, easily lifting the heavy planters that you yourself struggle with. “Thanks,” you whisper as he relieves you of a particularly burdensome tree. To which he smiles in return.

After making the switch, by placing the recent delivery in the house for it’s quarantine, you lead him to the supply closet. Where you collect a couple shovels, trowels, and two pairs of gloves. As you continue to scan for anything else you might require, Jungkook pops in behind looking at the shelves with a sense of curiosity. He reaches up and over you to a spray bottle labeled ‘slug repellent.’

“We won’t need that, it’s for the outdoor gardens,” You explain. “It’s just a mixture of ca-”

“Caffeine and water?”

You snap your gaze to him. “How do you know that?”

He bites his lip as a snicker starts to escape. “Just a bit of morning reading. I found an interesting article with that particular tidbit. One which also happened to reference the exploits of a long-eared menace.”

“Y-you read the conservatory blog? You read my post? No one reads that, there can’t have been more than ten views!”

“Which is such a shame.” He goads you. “I’ve found your work to be both informative and comical. You really have me rooting for you in your quest to catch your thief.”

You groan in utter fury. “Why must you be so-so-”

“Handsome? Funny? Caring?”

“Antagonizing!”

“Because you seem to take more notice when I am.” Jungkook answers, with a turn of his heel, his tail poking out from under his shirt as he starts to walk away with the cart. “And I like seeing that perplexed look of yours. Your nose is cute when you scrunch it up like that.”

You remain in the shed, your traitorous heart beating erratically over the fact that he called a part of you cute. While your more sensible side grabs your nose and smooths out the wrinkles he referenced.

“Should we get to work?” He calls out after you. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go home and expose that bandit of yours.”

You roll your eyes and follow him out, before taking the lead to your tropical glasshouse. The air sticks to your skin the moment you enter. Jungkook lets out a long exhale behind you tugging on the collar of his shirt. “Is it always like this in here?”

“It’s a bit warmer today, but not by much. Are you already regretting your decision to help?” You tease him.

“Nope,” he answers, slinging a shovel over his shoulder. “Show me where to dig, and I’ll get to it.”

Pulling out your plans for the new exhibit arrangement, you select a couple species placing them on the empty plots of garden as directed, careful to allow for future growth. Jungkook follows behind digging out their new homes faster than at least three of your staff members combined.

You stare at him for a second, unable to believe the pace at which he’s going. “Something wrong?” He asks, pausing to lock eyes with you.

“No, I just didn’t think you’d be so quick at digging.”

“I’m part rabbit, what did you expect?” Jungkook boasts with a chuckle and a raised brow. “I share their strengths. Especially when it comes to burrowing and fu-”      

His words are cut short when a fresh breeze from the outside washes over the both of you, a  sure sign that someone must have entered the greenhouse. Your neighbour goes rigid, his nose lifts into the air and his ears fall back flat against his head. “Jungkook what’s-” Leaping up he closes the gap and grabs you. Tucking you into him with his chin resting on your head, where a  warm and earthy scent envelopes you.  His breaths are quick and deep, causing his chest to rapidly rise and fall against your back.

Namjoon’s voice calls out to you. “... are you in here?”

“Over here!” You yell out in reply, before turning back to the hybrid who still has you locked in his clutches. “What the hell Jungkook? Let me go! Now’s not the time for your games.” Sure it might feel nice to be wrapped in his arms, to get lost amidst his aroma. At any other time you might even consider taking a moment before chastising his boldness. But here? Now? And with Namjoon coming to greet you? No, this is too much.

You try to push him away like you have before, but this time it’s as if he’s set in stone, and not registering you at all. He focuses only on the direction your coworker's voice hailed from. “That scent, he smells like-”

“There you are.” Namjoon interrupts stepping around a flowering bush and into view, looking surprised by your guest. “Oh, hello there.”

The point of Jungkook's chin rubs against your head as he grips you even tighter. Embarrassed and confused by the hybrids embrace. “Jungkook, this is Namjoon.” You introduce your coworker while delivering an elbow to Jungkook’s gut. He finally snaps out of his trace and lets you go though he continues to hover behind. “He works with the bonsai of the conservatory.”

“You must be the neighbour I’ve heard so much about, it’s nice to finally meet you.” Namjoon extends his hand to the hybrid, but Jungkook ignores the gesture, choosing to glare instead, with his nostrils flared and his ears pinned back.

“Jungkook?” You whisper trying to chase him from his mood.

Namjoon gives him a nervous smile. “You probably smell my hybrid, on me don’t you?”

“A hybrid?” Jungkook confirms, his eyes narrowed at Namjoon.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t intend to scare you. I’m sure the scent of a predator, especially a tiger, is a bit of a shock. He’s harmless, I promise.”

“Is Taehyung here?” You ask, hoping to see his affectionate part-feline companion.  

“Nah, he’s with a friend today. I needed to get some work done and he’d be more of a distraction than a help... but it would seem that didn’t stop him from scenting my shirt before I left.” Namjoon explains, and then turns to your neighbour again. “Jungkook would you mind if I borrow her for a second? I need help with one of my tropical species.”

Jungkook gives a solemn nod. For the first time since you’ve known him, he looks frightened, and somewhat hesitant to release you over to your coworker.

Worried by his current disposition, you reassure him with a squeeze on his arm. “Just keep digging where I’ve placed those pots and I’ll be right back.”

Namjoon leads you into the adjacent greenhouse where you can continue to keep watch of Jungkook through the pains of glass. But the instant the doors close between you, Namjoon starts bombarding you with questions. “Why didn’t you tell me? How long has it been going on? ”

You take a step back having been caught off guard. “Tell you what?”

“About you and Jungkook! Is the feuding neighbours just a cover story?” Namjoon’s eyes are wide and hopeful as he carries on, not letting you fit a single word in. “Don’t worry, I won’t inform anyone you're together. I know it’s not easy having a human-hybrid relationship out in the open. But I think you should be careful about going out into public because he’s far too obvious about it.”

“We’re not- we’re not a couple. Why would you think such a thing?”

“Because the way held you, he looked like he was marking you with his own scent. That’s what rabbits do isn’t it? They rub their chins on what they want to claim as their own.”

“They do what?” You ask, stunned by the possibility, before the realism settles back in. It must just be Jungkook’s idea of a joke. “No, that’s not what he’s doing, our connection is nothing remotely like that. Don’t get me wrong he’s very attractive, and he knows it.” You mutter the last part under your breath. “But-”

“But you really are having trouble with him. It's not a cover?”

“You think I would keep something like that from you?” Namjoon over the years has come to be your closest confidant. A good friend and coworker, you would never dream of hiding something like that from him.

“I suppose not.”

“Is that why you brought me back here, to question my relationship status?”

“Not entirely.” Namjoon shakes his head with a small dimpled smile and changes the subject. “I do actually want to get your help with one of my new acquisitions.” He points out an unusual tree on his work bench, much too big for the pot it’s currently situated in. It’s extensive roots spill out over the top and threaten to swallow the pot whole. “A Ficus microcarpa, far from the most sought after species when it comes to reputable bonsai, but I couldn’t pass this one up. It has such good character.”

“What made it grow in such a way?” You examine the plant and it’s container with care, prying between the roots and taking note of cracks starting to form in the terracotta.

“The last owner neglected it for far too long. It sat hidden in the back of a commercial greenhouse, still under the watering and fertilizing system, but since it was confined to such a small space it tried to root it’s way out. If I were to guess, it probably hasn’t seen a new pot for at least five years.”

“It’s a miracle it survived.” You nod impressed by the tree’s determination. “What’s your plan for it?”

“Give it what it wants, let it leach out. I doubt I would be able to pry it out entirely without causing significant damage to the roots that are gripping the sides, so instead I want to put another bellow to catch it and give it the fresh soil and room it needs.” Namjoon lays the tree and pot down on the table, and asks you to hold and support the trunk, while he taps and pokes at the bottom of the vessel with a metal trowel.  Enlarging the cracks, but not breaking the pot fully. It’s a tedious process. The small chunks of clay are removed piece by piece, giving him access to see and free some of the tightly bound roots inside.

While your coworker continues his task, your eyes are free to wonder. You check on Jungkook through the glass, as he kneels in front of the garden bed digging even faster than before.

Namjoon appears to notice your distracted state. “How's he doing?”

“Fine I guess.” You whisper. “He’s acting stranger than usual today though. He stole from my garden again. Invited himself over to my house, then here, and you saw what he did back there.”

“Huh...” Namjoon mutters, trailing off the same way he did on the phone.

“What is this ‘huh’ you keep giving me? You know I don’t like games Namjoon. If you have something you want to say, say it.”

“It’s about what you said earlier, how his caretaker leaves for extended periods of time. Usually if an animal is alone for too long they look for ways to stimulate themselves and resort to their natural instincts, scavenging and such. But he’s a hybrid and therefore part human, so if you were isolated and restricted to your house what would you do?”

“Probably look for the closest person I could find. So he’s acting out in my garden and teasing me, because he’s lonely?”

“I think so.” Namjoon responds as he extracts another root, freeing it from its confines.

“But why?” You ask, worried for the answer to come. “Why wouldn’t he just say something?”

“There could be a number of reasons. He might not understand what he’s doing on a conscious level, or he might be afraid to show any sign of weakness to you or anyone else. Jungkook is part prey animal, and humans are all too often predators.”

“If that’s the case...” You curse yourself for not realizing it sooner. The fury you held for him slowly fades away as you replay every encounter in your mind. He was literally jumping at the chance to spend time with you, to help you with your work, and you were to blind to see it. Your anger over your missing vegetables is so trivial in comparison to what he must have been going through. The loneliness he must have felt, and the inability to admit it, you can’t imagine how he suffered through it alone. “What can I do to help him? I have no legal claim to him Namjoon. What can I do within such limitations?”

He looks down at his work in progress. “The way I see it  you and he, like this small tree, have three options. You could maintain the status quo, leave him be, but how long will he be able to survive like he is? Creeping over the edge but grasping on to nothingness?”

You shake your head vehemently rejecting the idea while Namjoon continues.

“You could report his caretaker for neglect, breaking the container entirely, but that too could be very damaging to him, tearing him away entirely could put him in a state of shock, and in a home that is no better for him, while the legal battle is decided. Or...” Namjoon grabs another container, slightly wider than the one in which the plant is seated. Filling it with substrate he takes the tree clinging to it’s partial pot and places it on top. Pressing the newly freed roots down into the soil.

“You could support him, give him a better home just outside of his own where he can be himself and access what he needs. I personally think it’s your safest option for now.” Namjoon leads over inspecting the bonsai and lowers his voice to an almost inaudible whisper. “Until the day, when it is possible to fully cast the pot aside.”

You nod, though now left to grapple with what you could possibly have to offer the hybrid.  “I’m not sure I would be the best person to care for him.”

“I think Jungkook would disagree. He was already trying to scent you. That to me, implies his desire for something more in the realm of an intimate relationship.” You choke on your breath as Namjoon comes to an additional conclusion. Upon seeing your distress he makes a suggestion. “Of course you could keep it strictly to friendship between the two of you and I’m sure that will improve his situation, but his other needs will need to be met for him to feel completely at home...”

“His other needs? You think he wants to be with me? Intimately?! No! Surely he would have acted differently if that was his intent! He’s done nothing but tease me when he catches me even remotely looking in his direction.”

“So you have been looking at him!” Namjoon taunts you with a massive grin. Apologizing a second later when you proceed to glare at him. “But to answer your question, no, not necessarily. You have to remember most of society deems him a lesser being. He could be feeling a lot of guilt and pressure not to engage with you in that way. Though he might not outright say it, I bet his instincts will continue to shine through. I’ll even prove it to you.” Namjoon takes off a glove and rubs your head. “I bet this rabbit of yours will take less than a minute before he tries to replace the smell of my hand with his own again... trust me.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “I should probably get back to him.” You are just about to step away when your thoughts return to the long neglected plant. “Where do you plan to house that when you’re finished? Ficuses naturally belong in a more tropical location don’t they?”

“They do, especially if I want to give it a better chance. It’s going to need a place far more humid than this space.”

“Was this all your calculated way of guilting me to store it in my greenhouse too?”

“The thought might have crossed my mind.” Namjoon gives you a sly grin.  “But my logic is still sound in regards to Jungkook. He needs someone, he needs a better home... and it would seem he’s chosen you.”

...

You wander back to your greenhouse, still full of doubt. Finding Jungkook to have finished most of the required digging.

“Sorry for leaving you.”

“You-you okay?” He asks, upon seeing the dazed look on your face and then scowling in the direction that Namjoon led you.

“Fine, he just needed help with one of his plants. Sorry about earlier, I didn’t think you’d be affected by the scent of his hybrid, Taehyung is rather sweet though, you’d like him.”

“You trust him then?” Jungkook grumbles as he pierces his shovel into the ground. “You trust Namjoon and his hybrid?”

“Of course, why shouldn’t I?”

“Because it wasn’t just a tiger that I smelled. He’s been around a lot of hybrids. Every scent on him told me to run, all of them put there by dangerous predators.”

“Oh,” you shoot back in surprise. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Taehyung is rather popular, he has a lot of friends and Namjoon often caters them at his place. You don’t need to worry, you're safe here.”

“It’s not myself I’m worried about.”

Jungkook inches closer as you crouch to place the plants in the holes he dug. His nose twitches as he takes a deep breath, his eyes watching while you bury the root ball in the warm soil, firmly securing the trunk of the young tree.

While you are leaning down, Jungkook reaches across to the other side of you. Grabbing the trowel to your right despite the fact that the same tool can be found on his left. The bottom of his chin grazes the top of your head and lingers for a spell. Your heart stops in that moment while questioning his motives. Though Namjoon said he’d do just this, you still can’t be entirely sure that it proves him correct; Jungkook might just not have seen the other option available to him, and he’s never bothered about invading your space. This could be nothing, though there’s a small growing part of you that wants it more and more to be something.

“He’s a good guy,” you promise, returning to the conversation so as to not dwell on his actions. “He even suggested that I should bring you along more often, if you’re interested in spending some of your days here.”

“He did?”

You nod.  A small white lie, but not entirely incorrect, and if it gets him to accept Namjoon easier you’ll all be better for it. “I wouldn’t expect you to work, but you're more than welcome to just hang around. The staff here could always use some company and I’m sure it would beat staying at home alone all day.”

“I would like that. I would like that a lot, but would you want me to keep you company too?”

“If that’s what you want to do.”

“No, I need to know if that’s what you want.” He looks over to you pinning you down in his line of sight.  

“I suppose I would....” You answer and turn your head, unable to bear the nerves that his gaze brings. The both of you fall quiet. Knowing what you know now, being free of your anger for him leaves you vulnerable, open to his persuasion, and now you are no longer certain of how to act. So you start to rely on what has made him comfortable in the past, and interject with a new condition to bring an end to the awkward silence. “As long as you treat this garden better than mine back home.”

Jungkook lets out a long laugh. “I have nothing but the highest respect for your garden.”

...

When planting is finished your clothes are entirely saturated in sweat and your muscles aching from use. It’s hard to believe how much you’ve both done in such a short amount of time. While carting up the supplies, Jungkook’s eyes catch on something behind you. You look around spotting the newly potted bonsai on a back table. Namjoon must have dropped it off while you both were busy.

Looking at it now you can’t help but notice how even the shape of its leaves remind you of the hybrid’s ears, long, pointed, and reaching up to the sky. You consider your friend's words one more time and while Jungkook leans over to inspect the tree. Reaching out to his back, your hand shakes with hesitation before setting down on a spot just below his shoulder. He softens under your touch, a low hum leaving his lips. His attention turns from the plant to you. With your hand still in place, your arm is now wrapped around him, leaving only an inch between the two of you. You stand there fixed and unmoving, but content in the knowledge, that you seem to have left him speechless this time. His eyes darting away from yours, to your lips, your neck, and finally the hand you place upon his chest.  

Only to have the moment broken when you can hear and feel the rumble from his stomach. His nervous laugh follows as he reaches up to scratch behind his ear.

“Hungry?”

He nods in response, his eyes wide as he remains unusually silent.

“Come on, I’ll buy you dinner.” You offer as you turn him around to head to the car.

...

You both settle on a take out spot, and return home to wash up and eat.

After finishing your meal and tearing off your overalls, you both settle down on the hammock in your yard. With Jungkook’s legs long enough to touch the ground, he slowly rocks the seat back and forth.  He’s been near silent since that close moment together. He’s never had a problem with banter and flirtation, but now you’ve come to notice that any attention which can’t be passed off as a joke causes him to flounder.

Laying back in the hammock, both full and content, your eyes threaten to close after the long day as Jungkook continues to sit beside you. The sound of crickets lulling you to sleep. “Keep an eye out for that thief of mine will you?” You may not like games but if it makes him comfortable, and keeps him talking, you’ll continue to play this ruse with him.

“You trust me to keep watch without your supervision?”

“Are you suggesting I shouldn’t?”

“No, it’s just a lot more credit than you usually give me.”

“I think you’ve earned it.” You whisper as you finally drift off.

It feels like only a few minutes of rest before the sun sets and the air turns cool. Jungkook’s chin comes to rest on the top of your head like it did back in the greenhouse. He shifts his weight, burrowing his arms around and behind to cover you as he takes deep breaths. You lean into him seeking the warmth of his chest. No longer restricted by your childish anger to enjoy his company is a welcome relief, you only wish you could relinquish him of any of his own troubles and doubts.  And then, you feel it, a drop of cold rain hitting your neck. The hammock moves again as he adjusts, the back of his fingers running across the damp spot. Another finds your cheek and he wipes that away too, your skin shivering in response.

But when a speck lands your mouth he stops. You wait, a second, then two. Your anticipation grows with face heating up and your chest tightening as you continue to crave his touch. You want him to wipe it away, to touch you, to act on whatever desires he might be keeping. You part your lips with the desperate hope that he will take the hint. Rejoicing when the warm pad of his thumb spreads the drop across the delicate skin.

He comes down on to you, his mouth catching any and all remains of the droplet as he encases your lips. Jungkook places a hand on your neck while the other grabs the ropes of the hammock, his legs straddle your hips. The scattered rain turns to a downpour as he remains fixed to your mouth, even his form isn’t enough to shield you from the current washing down from the sky.

As your hands reach up to his own damp and curling locks entwining your fingers in the strands he moans and nips. But as quickly as it started, so too does it end. When Jungkook snaps up as though jolted from a dream. His ears point back as an apology flows from him. “I-I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Jungkook,” you call out to him but he ignores you as he tries to detangle himself. When one foot hits the ground. You grab his waist and try again. “Jungkook, you don’t have to be sorry.” But instead of stopping he merely pulls you off and along with him, sending you both to the muddy ground, but this time with you on top of him.

“Are you okay?” He asks the loud pouring of the rain forcing him to raise the volume of his voice.

You chuckle at his concern considering he’s the one flat on his back. “I think I should be asking you that question instead.” You pause as he mirrors your grin. “Why did you stop? Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” He looks up at you, his brow furrowing. “You did nothing wrong. It was me. I was the one acting on my instincts. I shouldn’t have done that when I know how much you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you...” You explain, trying your best not to be drowned out by the water cascading down. “The things you did might have annoyed me, but I get it now. I’m just sorry it took me so long to notice.”

“Notice what?”

“How fucked up your situation is. For not realizing how alone you must have been. How caged you must have felt. I’ve been so focused on my own little world that I didn’t realize what was happening or why you were acting the way you were. I like you, a lot, but I was too wrapped up in my frustration to say how I felt...”

“It’s not your fault.”

You shake your head. “I am not innocent in this. I should have been paying more attention.”

“Then pay attention to me now.” He begs with his round eyes shining up at you.  

“But in what way? As a neighbour, as a friend, or maybe something more?" Your voice cracks in desperation, trying to find his needs while also hoping they are the same as yours. “Is that why you were always teasing me the way you did? You wanted something more?”

“You really want to know?” Jungkook’s tone is low as it grips on to his every word. “I did it because it was the only thing that could distract me from my incessant need for you. Seeing your reactions and having your attention kept me in check. I’m very different from you and I’m aware it could cause a problem. I wasn’t sure if you could ever fully want me because of that.” He reaches to rub around the base of his ears. “But every day that I looked over I wanted to hold you, to claim you, to take you right here on this very spot. So often I dreamed of jumping the fence and coming for you instead of...”

You smile down at him, noting his near admission. “Instead of?”

“Instead of watching from a distance.” He smirks, catching and narrowly fixing his statement. Pleading guilty only to his longing for you.

“Then do it.” You demand of him.

He groans from his position beneath you. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“I’m not. You weren’t the only one peeking through the fence Jungkook.” Reaching up to your collar you tug off your shirt. He follows your lead with his own to reveal his sculpted chest he’s taunted you with so many times. “I don’t care if we’re different from each other. I don’t care if it causes a problem.” You shift back on his body traveling from your seat near his stomach down to his hips, his clothed dick firm and pressing against you. A moan escapes his lips, confirming that you’ve made your point. “There’s no one else nearby, so if you want me so much that you’re willing to fuck me out here, in the rain and mud-”  

His hands come to grip your waist, and in one swift motion, he lifts you off, maneuvering out from underneath, to fall into place behind you. From there he pushes you down to your hands and knees, his body bent over yours. “You have no idea how much I want to.” He whispers with a kiss to your bare shoulder damp from the rain that continues to pour.

He takes off your bra before his face moves down your back, nose trailing against your skin and pausing at your shorts. Unfastening the button he pulls them down, freeing you of your underwear too before they are both cast aside. “I want to smell you, and taste you.” Jungkook takes in a deep breath, wrapping an arm around your legs, and barring your thighs. He buries his face between your legs, his tongue reaching out to deliver a long lick to your folds pausing after every lap.

Your palms dig into the ground, the cool mud coming to the surface to meet them. You buck against his tongue but the forearm holding you remains firm, sending your squirming downward to bury your elbows in the soggy grass too.

Jungkook chuckles as you inadvertently give him a better angle. From behind you can hear the zipper of his own shorts. Rubbing the head of his cock against your damp folds, he covers it with the slick of your slit, and with a long groan he eases it inside. He’s slow at first, letting you savor the girth and warmth of him. So you start to edge back and forward on his cock. Taking the time to enjoy every inch, along with the sounds that leave him. But when he returns to take control, the first thrust is so powerful, his thighs hit your ass with a loud clap, and every jolt of his hips after, drives you further down each time.

A stuttering groan escapes him as he fills you. Thinking he’s finished you lean forwards and until his cock pulls out, but in response he grabs your waist. Turning you over, back to the ground on top of the discarded clothes and facing him.

He lowers himself pressing his chest against yours. His fingers reach to grab your chin and take a kiss. His cock, despite having come only moments before, is hard once more and poised to enter once again.

“How are you-” You manage to squeeze a few words in the gaps between his kisses as he draws breath. “Ready for more-” Another pass of his tongue. “Already?”

“You have my hybrid traits to thank for that.” He moves to nibble on the side of your throat. “I have more to give you, if you want it.”

You nod unable to emit any noise other than a gasp as his mouth finds a sensitive spot on your neck. His dick forges in again, your slick and his cum dripping out of you as he fills you with himself instead.

You’ve avoided touching him with your own hands as they are patched with mud, but as his thrusts grow more powerful than even before, you’re forced to grab on his arms and chest. Leaving behind streaks of dirt which display the path of your grip. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, in fact looks rather encouraged by your touch, and the marks you leave him.

“What a dirty woman you are, and getting me all messy too.” He scoffs while admiring your handiwork. “Can I return the favour?”

“Help me come first and you can do whatever the fuck you want.” You gasp on the brink of your climax.  

His ears perk up and a grin streaks across his face. “Close are you?” He grabs your calf and wraps your leg around his back, the other follows suit and his hand comes to rest on your lower back pushing you up and into him effectively grinding your mount against him.

You gasp and flinch with the sudden pressure, but he holds you firm as your back arches to meet him.

His hips beat on at a rapid pace, a small whimper escapes him as you reach the peak, tipping you over the edge. The chilling rain can in no way can douse the searing heat that spreads through you. You're still gasping when his jaw clamps down hard, his teeth poised upon your skin. The first pulse of his cock comes inside, but on the second he pulls out to splatter your chest and stomach with the rest. His hand comes to clutch his shaft, spilling more out and on to you with each stroke.

After every remaining drop has been cast on you he smiles, dragging his fingers across the rain drenched mess of mud and cum on your skin. “Never thought I’d ever see you so thoroughly soiled.”

You giggle at his remarks through your deep breaths. “And now that you do, what do you think?”

“I think it suits you, the dirt, the rain, and me...” He lowers himself down onto you, with his head now resting upon your shoulder. “It’s too bad though. Now I just want more, but we’re both far too filthy to carry on like this.”  

You turn to whisper at the base of his ear. “Who says we can’t continue in the shower...”

...

You wake early the next morning with the sun spilling into the room, lighting up your bed, and the hybrid sleeping next to you. His ears and nose twitching as he continues to rest. Slipping out from the covers, and into a set of clean gardening clothes, you exit the room with as little sound as possible.

On the tile floor of your hall, muddy footprints trail from your backdoor to your bathroom.  A smile pulls at your lips as you recall the events which brought them there. Jungkook had been so excited to keep going he picked you up and rushed you inside.

The feeling from the warm water and hands in contrast to the cool rain was enough to bring back the waves of pleasure. He was so thorough in washing you down, you might have to ask him to join you for another this morning and repay the favour.  

Outside in the garden you find all your harvest from the day before present and untouched. You’re pleased by this new development, but it’s not the fact that your crops are intact which makes you happy, it’s the comfort in knowing that Jungkook didn’t feel the need to take them.

A few minutes later the hybrid in question comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist pulling with him a blanket he took from the bed to cover the both of you. “Morning.” He mumbles, as his nose finds the crook of your neck where he exhales with a deep and relaxed sigh.

“Morning.” You respond, enjoying the tickle of his breath before you turn around to better see him. “It seems the thief didn’t strike last night. ”

“I guess they found a new garden to plunder and devour?” Jungkook suggests, giving you a sly grin, before he opens his mouth again. It’s easy to see that he’s getting ready to confess, his face shifts to a stern expression as he looks down at the ground, the guilt weighing heavily upon his brow. Placing your index to his lips you stop him. No longer needing to hear those words of admission, you offer a new proposal instead.

“Maybe, but that was just one night. The thief might still come back. So if it’s alright with you I would like you to stay here. Until we can be sure they won’t return.”

Jungkook lets out a satisfied chuckle, pushing aside your finger and pulling you tighter into his warm embrace. “You’re right, I suppose it would be safer if I stayed.” His lips plant a kiss on the top of your head where he then rests his chin. “A temptation as enticing as this, shouldn’t be left alone and unattended.”

...

[jenomark]

➔Pairing: Jeno x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: -.- ➔Genre: Smut (with a plot!) ➔Warnings: Sexual tension & Penetration. ➔Word count: 2,470

➔Summary: You haven't called your ex-boyfriend in two years, but he's the first person you call when you're in a bit of trouble. He comes when you call, thus sparking a night neither of you will be able to move on from.

Anon request #1: can I request an ex to lovers scenario with jeno where his ex and him decided to stay as friends and since always they had a huge tension and after 2 years they got really flirty or smth, thanks💖

Anon request #2: hi, I want to request a drabble about sex with jeno, thank you!!

Jeno looked at his buzzing cell phone and blinked lazily. He hadn't seen your number come up since you broke up with him, which had to have been two years ago. He had managed to stay friends with you over those two years, but you were never friendly enough to call each other at three in the morning. Still, Jeno picked up the call to hear static at the other end of the line, wondering if he would still feel the same when he heard the sound of your voice.

"Hello?"

There was more static. When he thought you might have pocket dialed him, and he was getting ready to hang up, he heard your voice. Time seemed to slow down in those moments.

"Jeno?" you said. "I don't have good service out here. I'm scared, Jeno."

Feeling his heart race, Jeno asked, "Where are you? What is going on?"

"Off the highway. My car broke down." you said. "Can you come get me?"

Jeno sprang out of bed immediately, tearing the covers from his naked body. He got dressed while keeping you on the phone with him, so that you weren't scared. He drove to where you were, pulling over to the side of the road. When you saw him, you got out of your car and stood awkwardly, wringing your hands together.

"I know I shouldn't have called you first," you started to say. "But i-"

"-It's okay." he said, meaning it.

Jeno was bone tired, but being in front of you made him more alert. Though you broke his heart, he was still so careful with yours. Jeno came over to your car to look at it, pulling up the hood like he had any idea what he was truly doing. You watched his muscles as he fiddled around with stuff, your eyes slightly glazing over.

"I don't know much about cars." he said, shutting the hood. "I'll call someone to come pick this up. Until then, I will drive you back home. It's too late for us to be waiting out here."

You nodded and followed him back to his car. He made the call quickly before setting his cell phone down in the cup holder. There was so much gratitude for him in the silence, but you couldn't seem to get any of your thoughts out. You were still thinking about his muscles, about how handsome he looked at nearly four in the morning.

"It's done," he said. "They'll pick your car up soon. You can figure out what to do about it tomorrow."

"Thank you." you said.

It had started to rain. A few droplets hit the front of his windshield before a whole sheet of rain came down, hitting the top of his roof as hard as rocks. He could barely see out of the windshield, so he decided to wait for the storm to pass. It was awkward inside of the car, and too quiet.

You cleared your throat. "Are you seeing anyone?"

Jeno looked over at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise. Seeing his expression, you realized what an invasive question it was. You tried backtracking, but you were sputtering your words enough to make Jeno laugh.

"Relax," he said. "I'm not seeing anyone."

You didn't know what you were thinking. Maybe you were too tired to think straight. Maybe it was the sound of the rain. Maybe it was the way he looked at you in the darkness of the car. You reached over and touched the hand that rested on the steering wheel until he looked you in your eyes.

"You got Lasik eye surgery." you said. "You used to look so cute in your glasses."

For Jeno, it was easy. There has always been sexual tension between you. Touching the top of your hand felt natural. He leaned over, grabbed your chin and kissed you. You made out, completely unaware that the rain had stopped. When everything slowed down, you were straddling Jeno in his seat, and his hands were on your ass. You parted, your eyes staying on his lips until he spoke.

"I should get you home." he said.

"You should come home with me." you said, surprising yourself more than him.

Jeno laughed and eased your body off of his. "I want that more than you know, but I don't think it's a good idea. I could never control myself around you. "

Jeno drove you home, the only sound in the car coming from the windshield wipers noisily wiping away droplets of rain. You followed the blades swiping left to right, your brain in a funk.

Breaking up with Jeno was one of your top ten mistakes. You weren't as wise as you are now. You didn't know what you had when you let it go. You had carried his hurt with you everywhere you went for two years. Though you remained as friends, there was always weird tension whenever you met up with each other. His group of friends didn't trust you, and your group of friends always took your side, even though each of them was in love with Jeno. Your shared friends didn't get into the middle of it, and you and Jeno spent 24 months skating around unspoken apologies.

"We never had a chance to talk alone." you said, finally getting the bravery to speak out. “There are a lot of things left unsaid.”

Jeno pulled up in front of your house. You weren't surprised he knew where you had moved to, because you had been dropping hints for months. You had always hoped Jeno would roll up one day and give you another chance you didn't quite think you deserved.

"We don't have to talk about it now. "It's early in the morning and we both could use some sleep," he said.

You hummed in agreement, looking out of the rain soaked window at your lonely, dark house. You looked up at the sky and wanted the sun to come up, to cast a pretty glow over you and soften the experience of sitting with your ex in his car.

"You're like my knight in shining armor." you said. "I owe you a lot."

You had your hand on the door handle. You wanted to lean over and kiss him the way he kissed you, but your bravery only went so far. Jeno seemed to be thinking a similar thing. His eyes fell to your lips. Before either of you could act, he unlocked his doors.

"Get some sleep." he said, rubbing his arms as if he were cold. "I'll check in tomorrow to see how you're doing. I don't want them overcharging you for their services. If you want, I can go with you to make sure they don't."

"Okay." was all you could say. You got out of the car, tapped on his window as a way to say thank you and walked up the pathway to your house. You touched your fingers to your lips and remembered the way he tasted.

Jeno stayed there idling while you put your lock into the door and turned the handle. Once you were safely inside, you didn't wait to see if he had driven away.

You walked into your home, not caring enough to flick lights on. You weren’t as tired as before. Making out with Jeno had felt like an IV of caffeine had slipped into your bloodstream. Your body felt swollen in places, your heart most of all. You walked through the rooms, taking off your bra underneath your t-shirt and flinging it across the back of your couch. Your foot was on the first step of your stairs when you heard a soft rapping sound on your front door. Backtracking, you walked back to the door and flung it open, crossing one of your arms against your chest to hide yourself.

“Hi,” Jeno said.

He stood rooted to the spot, his eyes darting frantically around your face. You had no time to greet him back before he stepped over the threshold and took your lips against his. You moved your arm and let him smash his hard chest against your free breasts. Your nipples were aroused and you knew he could feel them against the thin material of his t-shirt. You threw your arms around his neck and clung to him, savoring the taste and feel of him.

“I know I said no but....” he said, between kisses. “It was very hard to watch you walk away from me just now.”

You kissed him and bit down on his lip, pulling it lightly with your teeth before letting go. “Take me to bed.” you said. “Or the floor...the couch..i don’t care, Jeno, just take me.”

Jeno picked you up into his arms. He shut your front door and locked it behind him without ever taking himself away from your lips. He was strong enough to carry you upstairs without struggling, which made you even more aroused than you already felt.

“To the left.” you whispered against his mouth.

It was strange having him in your new bedroom, yet, there was something familiar about seeing him amongst your possessions. He felt like he belonged. Jeno set you down on your bed and let out a groan of approval when you wouldn’t let go of his neck. You tried to trap him with your thighs, but he had pinned your arms above your head, which made you release him. Your body relaxed, half hanging off of your bed. Your stomach was bare where your shirt had ridden up, so Jeno leaned down to kiss it. He pushed it all the way up to expose your bare breasts and take them in your mouth one at a time. He was really going at it, feeling them and teasing them, when you put a stop to things and slipped out from underneath him.

“Can you give me a moment?” you asked, your face growing hot. “ I just need a second.”

Jeno sighed but agreed. He sat on the edge of your bed and watched you slink into your bathroom. You tried your best to freshen up, to get the 5 a.m stink off of you. Your mind was frantic and thinking of a million things that could go wrong. You realized that you were extremely nervous. The door to the bathroom slowly opened to reveal Jeno standing there with his hands in his pockets, and all of those thoughts faded like ghosts into the foreground.

“What are you doing?” he asked, crooking his finger. “Get over here.”

It was much easier than you thought it would be. It was like two friends getting together after a long time, friends that knew each other’s bodies inside and out. You tore off your shirt, not caring whether your armpits were sweating anymore. He met your breasts and moaned in appreciation as his mouth got back to business. On the bed, he rolled on top of you, laying kisses all down your body. You lifted your head up and let him nip at your neck. You took your hands and placed them underneath his t-shirt to touch his abs.

“Well,” you breathed. “This has changed.”

Jeno could only laugh. He took off his shirt and let you admire his body, which had definitely changed since the last time you took him to bed. You touched the hardness of his chest, down to the smoothness of tummy leading down to his cock, which you remembered in every detail. You sidled underneath him and let your tongue taste the salt on his skin. You bit down on his shoulder and looked him in the eyes.

Your body had changed, too. You were softer in a lot of places, which Jeno loved. He wanted to touch and savor all of you. There was an overeagerness to him that stifled any remaining awkwardness there could have been. He bit down on your shoulder in response, scraping his teeth against your skin before he met your mouth. His tongue wound its way around yours for a few seconds, just relishing the feeling of them together.

Once all the clothes were removed, a desperation started to change the atmosphere. Things were no longer silly. He didn’t laugh. You didn’t go anywhere but in his arms. The rain on the window was quiet but present. The sun was seeping into your skin where you lay underneath him. There was a moment where he grabbed your face between his hands and held you there, his thumb brushing across your cheek. He kissed you sweetly, his lips full.

When Jeno entered you, it was like all the memories of your sex life came flooding back. You would always miss him inside of you when he wasn’t there, miss the full feeling that came when he penetrated you for the very first time. You had missed the sounds his throat made whenever he concentrated on pleasuring you. You hadn’t forgotten how skilled his fingers were at fondling you, or how each stroke never failed to make you lose all thought. He fucked your body like it meant something in the morning glow. He didn’t slow down for anything, not even when he felt your fingernails digging into his back.

He had let you take control. You moved on top of him and sank down onto his cock, holding onto his arms as you did. With your hands pressed against his chest, you moved. You rode Jeno wildly, bucking against his pelvis with abandon. He tugged on your hair when you tilted your chin towards the ceiling. He gripped your waist. He smacked your ass. He did everything in his power to bring you back to him every time you slipped away. Your eyes eventually found him again. You moved lower and rode him, your sweaty body gliding against his. He held you, his thick arm around your neck as he felt your walls contract, as you came around his cock.

You wanted to cry out, wanted to bring the room down around you. You kept fucking him, wanting to coax the cum from his cock, to feel the warmth moving downwards with gravity. You wanted to keep it going forever, but it wasn’t meant to be. It had been a long time since you two had made love, and your bodies were too excited to hold back.

You knew there would be a talk somewhere in the future, when he was ready. As Jeno screwed up his face in orgasm, as you felt the warmth of his cum, you were a little too happy to prolong that conversation. You wanted him in your life for a long time but, for now, you would take him any way you could get him.

[leossmoonn]

No Weakness [Spencer Reid]

masterlist 

pairing - spencer reid x gn!reader

type - fluff, lil angst 

request / note -  “where the reader is new to BAU and they see dead body first time, and it kinda bothers them. and spencer noticed it, even when the reader tries they best no show it (bc they’re scared it makes the look like they’re weak) so when they’re just two of them spencer tries to make them feel better and tells them its okay and it does not make them weak.” this was so fun to write, ahhh! thank you @avrilstaro for requesting <3 *not edited lol oops*

summary - you’re embarrassed after freaking out from seeing a dead body, but spencer assures you that it’s okay

warnings / includes - descriptions of mutilated body, small description of case (child kidnapper case for this fic), crying, anxiety, nausea, little fighting, food mention. you and spencer are dating in this  

———— 

*gif isn’t mine*

“I can’t believe I didn’t get to sleep in,” you mumbled, throwing your purse down on your desk rather roughly. 

“Not like you would’ve anyways. Ariel was meowing for you five minutes before we got called in,” Spencer stated. 

“So? I would’ve fallen back asleep after,” you shrugged. “You would’ve stayed up all morning playing with her, babe,” Spencer chuckled. 

You rolled your eyes. “You don’t know that.” 

“I do! You’ve done it every morning since we got her,” Spencer argued. 

You scoffed, shaking your head at your boyfriend. You trudged over to the coffee machine, getting out a mug the size of a bowl and filling it to the brim. It was already your third cup of the day, and while it was probably unhealthy drinking that much coffee, you needed it. It was your first week on the job and you still weren’t used to waking up at five in the morning for a surprise case. This was your second case, though, so you weren’t very surprised that you were still tired. You knew you would get used to it as time went on, but you wished that your body and mind would adapt faster. 

“You’re coming on the field today.” Emily nudged your arm with a file. 

Your eyes widened and you sputtered out coffee, coughing to try and clear your throat. Emily chuckled, patting your back gently to help you. You set your coffee down, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand once you got control of your breathing.  

“W-What?” You asked, the words Emily said not processing in your brain. 

“I said you’re coming onto the field today,” she repeated. 

“B-But…” your trailed off, trying to find a reasonable explanation. “I-I wasn't supposed to be on the field for another week. I’m still technically in training.” 

“Well, part of the training is going on the field. You’re an amazing agent in the office, L/n, but you'd be even better on the field. You’re able to sympathise with the unsubs and solve the puzzles faster than most of us can, sometimes faster than your boyfriend. You’ll help us a lot better out there than in here.” 

You chuckled nervously, heat crawling up the back of your neck. “Thanks, Emily, but I’m not ready.” 

Emily rolled her eyes. “That’s what all the new agents say. You need to just get out there, and there’s no better time to do that then early in the game.”

“I guess,” you muttered, lifting your coffee cup and taking a sip. 

“You’ll be fine, Y/n. I have no doubts,” Emily smiled. 

“Thanks.” You have her a small smile. “No problem. And hey, don’t tell Spencer I said you’re better at the job than him,” she winked. 

You laughed and nodded, “I won’t, I promise.” 

She walked away, leaving you to lean against the counter and to drink the rest of your coffee before going to the briefing room. 

“So, I heard that Newbie is finally coming along with us today!” Luke exclaimed. 

“Newbie is your nickname, Newbie,” Penelope narrowed her eyes at Luke. Luke rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Anyways, you excited?”

You sat down in one of the chairs between to Luke and Matt. “Not really, if I”m being honest.” 

“Oh, why? You’ll be great!” Matt smiled. “So everyone says,” you sighed. 

“Hey, I heard you’re coming with us today. Can’t wait to have you on the field.” Spencer smiled as he walked past you. 

“Yeah, I’m excited to outsmart you, too,” you smirked. 

“Oh, Reid, looks like you have some competition!” Luke teased. 

Spencer shook his head and looked at you through his lashes. You gave him a challenging look, leaning on the table. 

“May the best agent win, Reid,” you dared. 

“Alright,” he shrugged. “Better have no weaknesses, L/n.” 

“Oh, I have none,” you smirked. Spencer replied to you with a hum, giving you an excited smile before paying attention to the case.  

Penelope and Emily delivered the case to you six, then leaving you all to pack up your things as you were going on the jet. You got out the small duffle bag of clothes you had in your car for traveling on cases, also grabbing your phone charger and the case files. You walked up onto the jet, placing your bags up over the overhead storage area. You got seated across from Tara and next to Spencer. 

You all talked about your plans to catch the unsub and where you all were assigned to. Tara, you, and Spencer were going to go to the crime scene to scope out the area. Emily and JJ would stay at the police station and work there, while Matt and Luke did witness and suspect interviews. 

You were sitting back in your chair, looking out the window and admiring the sky as the jet flew through the clouds. You still had an hour before you landed. Everyone was either sleeping or listening to music. You had thought about going back to sleep, but it seems as though the three cups of coffee you had finally kicked in.  

You regretted drinking so much coffee because now, your heart was racing and your hands were shaking. You weren’t sure if it was totally because of the caffeine or that you were nervous about being on the field for the first time, but you assumed it was a little bit of both. 

Spencer, who was seated next to you, noticed your jitteriness. He closed his book softly, setting it down on the floor next to his seat, turning to you and taking your hands in his. 

Your head snapped to him quickly, your eyes landing on his. He gave you a soft smile, beginning to rub his thumb over your knuckles. 

“You’ll do great out there, alright?” He assured. 

You sighed, turning away from the window and to him. “What if the lead I find doesn’t work? What if I can’t figure out where the unsub has the kids? O-Or what if I embarrass myself in front of the police chief?”

Spencer chuckled softly at your concerns, making you frown. 

“Don’t laugh! Hey, I bet you had all these concerns when you first joined.” 

“I did,” he admitted. “But, I learned that I worked with a team. It’s not just me doing the work, just like it’s not just you. You have seven people working with you on this. Try and relax, baby, alright? You do amazing work at the office. This won’t be any different.” 

You scoffed, “Please. It’s like, a million times different.” 

“Just try and relax,” he instructed, putting your hand up to his lips. 

You smiled widely, your heart fluttering as he kissed your hand. 

“Plus, even if it was just you working the case, I have no doubt you would figure it out quickly.” 

“Thanks, babe,” you smiled and leaned your head against the headrest. 

“Of course. I love you,” he said, leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. 

“Oh, gross. You guys know I just became newly single,” Tara scoffed. 

You laughed and turned to her. “That was like, nine months ago.” 

Tara raised her brows, looking at Matt and Spencer, and back at you. “You weren’t even here back then. How do you know this?” 

“I just know things,” you winked. “Yeah, well I’m betting someone blabbed,” Tara grumbled. 

“We would never,” Matt disagreed. “Mhm,” Tara hummed, going back onto her phone. 

You smiled at you teammates and looked back at Spencer and putting your head on his shoulder. You closed your eyes for a few moments, opening your eyes again. You blinked rapidly, yawning and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You rolled your head around, your eyes settling onto Spencer who was back to reading his book. You turned your head back to the window, furrowing your brows as you noticed you weren’t up in the sky anymore. 

“Oh, good. You’re up,” Spencer spoke, putting his book away. 

“Are we here already?” You asked, your voice croaky and hoarse. 

“Yep,” he nodded. “We landed about ten minutes ago.” 

“Oh,” you frowned, sitting up and getting out of your seat. You stretched your limbs, yawning once more as you held your hand up above your head. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” You sighed. 

“You’re just so peaceful when you sleep. I couldn’t,” he explained. 

You smiled and went to get your luggage. “Thanks, Spence. But everyone is probably waiting for me now.” 

“No, it’s alright. We can’t go and see the crime scene yet anyways.” 

“How come?” You asked. “Not prepped for us,” Spencer answered. 

“Since when does a crime scene need to be prepped for the FBI?” You snorted. 

“You’d be surprised,” Spencer let out a breathy chuckle. 

You put your duffle bag over your shoulders and handing Spencer his, holding your hand out for Spencer to take. “Join me down the stairs?” 

“Of course,” he grinned, standing up and taking your hand into his and his bag.

You two walked off the jet, going over to the SUV. Spencer drove you two to the hotel where you dropped off your things, immediately going to the police station. 

“ ‘Bout time!” Matt exclaimed, seeing you two walking through the doors. 

You chuckled, “Sorry. Looks like the coffee wore off and I finally crashed.” 

“It’s alright. I think the scene is ready for you guys to look at now,” he said. 

“Great,” you smiled. 

You and Spencer found Tara, going into the SUV once again, driving to the house where the parents were killed and children taken. 

“Wow, I’ve never seen this much yellow tape in my life,” you chuckled. “Yeah. It’s definitely not an eye sore,” Tara chortled, stepping over the caution tape. 

You and Spencer followed her, going up to the police offers that were talking at the front door. 

“Hi, we’re FBI agent with the BAU. I’m Doctor Tara Lewis, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, and Agent Y/n L/n,” Tara introduced you all. 

You smiled and shook the two officer’s hand. “Nice to meet you two.” 

“Likewise. I’m Officer Santiago and this is Officer Reynolds. The parents were killed in two different places. The father in the bedroom, mother in the oldest child’s room.” 

“Lovely. Can’t wait to see,” Tara smiled sarcastically. 

“Oh, I bet. Go ahead and go in, let us know if you find anything, please,” Reynolds said. 

You nodded and stepped into the house, cringing at the heavy smell of bleach. 

“God. It’s like a hospital in here, but twenty times worse!” You held your nose. “I should’ve told Emily I needed to stay back with Penelope.” 

“Oh, this is nothing,” Spencer smirked. “Wait until you see where they all got killed.” 

“Ew, Spence!” You shrieked. “You’re supposed to protect me from all that.” 

He chuckled, “All part of the job, baby.” 

You nodded and sighed, knowing that he was right. As always. You three walked up the stairs, looking at where the father was killed. There was an enormous amount of blood of the bedsheets and some on the corner of the right nightstand, some splatters that were below on the floor. 

“So,” you started. “We’re looking at a team, right? I mean, there’s no way that the unsub could kill the father without the mom noticing.” 

“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking’,” Tara nodded. “Well, I could be possible,” Spencer contradicted.

You and Tara looked at each other, confused. 

“Yeah, how?” You asked.

 “Well,” Spencer said, walking over to the bed. “The unsub could’ve choked or suffocated the father in his sleep. I mean, there were ligature marks around his neck, right?” 

“True. And the mom was saying goodnight to her children, so she obviously didn’t see her husband get killed,” Tara added on. 

You furrowed your brows, stepped out of the parents’s bedroom, going to the child’s. 

“Yeah, but, what about the kid? I mean, wouldn’t it have screamed and fought and ran out of the house?” You asked. 

Tara looked to you, eyes widening in surprise. “Yeah, that is a good thought. So… unsub number one is killing the father while unsub number two is kidnapping the mom slash killing the child…” 

“No, that wouldn't work. Maybe it’s a group of three?” Spencer suggested. 

“Maybe,” Tara shrugged. 

You stepped into the child’s bedroom, scrunching your nose as a foul smell wafted under your nose. You walked around, covering your nose with your sleeve. You saw the blood on the bedsheets and nightstand table. 

“Looks like the unsubs all have the same MO’s,” you muttered. 

You opened the closet, seeing nothing but toys, clothes, and shoes. You closed the doors, looking around the walls, your heart sinking as you saw all the finger pantings and pictures of family and friends. You walked up to the wall, losing your balance as you tripped on a a long, soft object. 

You let out a yelp, falling on your shoulder. You groaned in pain, turning on your back while holding your injured side. You looked around for the object you tripped on, frowning as you couldn’t find it. Something pale caught the corner of your eyes. You raised your brow, getting up on your knees and moving closer. 

“What the —” You muttered, your voice getting caught in your throat as you realised it was an arm sticking out under the bed. “Oh, my —” You gasped, peering under the bed, seeing the dead body of one of the children. “Oh, my God!” You shouted, scooting back, your back hitting the wall as you stared at the lifeless body. Tears welled up in your eyes and you put your hand to your mouth, loud and broken sobs escaping your throat. 

The boy couldn’t have been more than a few days old, yet it was still lying there. You could see the lifelessness in his eyes, and still the fear. There was a slit across his throat and cheek, his upper chest red with with green and purple bruises. You felt nauseas and cold, your heart sinking all the way down past your stomach. Your body was shaking and you couldn’t tear your eyes off of the body, no matter how hard you tried. 

You heard the footsteps of your colleagues, their voices calling your name. 

“Y/n, where are — O-Oh, my God.” Spencer’s eyes widened as he saw you crying on the floor. He immediately dropped down to his knees, taking you into his arms. “What happened.” 

You were unable to move, your eyes staring wide at the body. Spencer followed your gaze, his own heart dropping down to his chest. 

“Oh, man. Um,” Spencer said, looking away from the body and to you. His heart broke as he saw you so horrified. He put his hand on your cheek gently, turning your face so you were no longer looking at the body. “Let’s get you to out of here, alright?” 

You nodded slowly, your breaths becoming laboured as you tried to calm yourself down in Spencer’s arms. He got up, taking you with him. He walked you out of the room, coming face-to-face with Tara. 

“What happened?” Tara gasped. 

“Looks like the unsubs left the older boy. Tell the police officers, I need to get Y/n out of here,” Spencer said. 

Tara looked at you, nodding without hesitation. She let you two go, Spencer walking you down the stairs slowly. You exited the house, still taking heavy breathes as the image of the boy haunted your thoughts. Spencer gently got you seated into the car, buckling you in. He went to the driver’s seat, getting in and starting to drive. 

You two sat in the silence for thirty minutes while Spencer drove around. You looked at the window the whole time, your eyes glossy and strained from crying and keeping them open. Whenever you closed your eyes, even to just blink, flashes of the dead boy raced through your mind. Spencer waited patiently for you to speak, understanding how shocked and horrified you were. 

He parked in a Burger King parking lot, sighing and looking at you. He gingerly put his hand on your shoulder, only for you to shrug him away. 

“Y/n,” he sighed. 

“No,” you grumbled. “Take me back.” 

“I think it would be smart if you took the day off. Seeing a dead body, especially a child’s and one you had no idea exited, can really throw you off. The first time I saw a dead body…. Man, I-I was sick to my stomach. I—” 

“Shut up!” You exclaimed, waving your hands in the hair. You looked at him, your chest heaving up and down. Your brows were furrowed and mouth open, your eyes glaring at him.  “Just shut up, Spencer!” 

His mouth went agape, hurt flashing though his eyes. He didn’t let your outburst  dampen his spirits, though. He knew you were embarrassed and still horrified, and that you didn’t like to feel belittled. So he gave you a small, comforting smile, taking your hands into his. You didn’t move away this time, but you avoided any and all eye contact. 

“I know how you feel, babe,” he sympathised. “Yeah, I bet,” you muttered, your voice hoarse and dry. 

He frowned and unbuckled, leaning closer to you. He put his hand on your chin, turning your head with strength and force. You eventually met his eyes, his smile dropping as he saw tears rolling down your cheeks once again, your lips pulled into a pout. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he assured, cupping your cheek and wiping your tears away with his thumb. 

“N-No, it’s not,” you sobbed, shaking your head. “I-I’m so weak. I should’ve been ready. This is what I’ve been tra-trainging for and I suddenly turn into a freaking wuss? I-I… I… It’s so embarrassing!” You shoulders racked with sobs as you hung your head down to cry. 

“Oh, baby,” Spencer sighed, taking your head in both of his hands. He held your head up again, bringing his face close to yours. He put his forehead against yours, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “It’s no embarrassing, alright? Your reaction was a perfectly normal reaction to seeing a dead child’s body. Honestly, if you didn’t cry and freak out, I would be worried,” he chuckled. 

You gave him a watery smile, laughing with him. “Y-Yeah, I s-suppose,” you sniffled. “B-But,” you started. “I-It makes me look weak. And I don’t want to look weak, Spence. A-All my life I’ve been told —” 

He smiled widely, leaning back so he could look you in the eyes. “You’re not weak, Y/n. You never could be, even if you tried. You’re just human, and that’s fine. It’s amazing, honestly. You know, I am so proud of you, babe.”

You frowned, “Why?”

“Because today was your first day out on the field, and you did fantastic. It can only get better from here.” 

“Y-You really think so?” You sniffed, wiping your nose with your sleeve. 

“I know so,” he nodded confidently. “And it’s okay to show weakness, Y/n. No weakness is the real weakness.” 

“Such wise words,” you laughed. He laughed with you and he shrugged. “I try.” 

You laid your head back on the headrest, looking a him through tired eyes. “Thanks, Spencer. It really means a lot.” 

He nodded with a smile. “Of course, honey. Now, why don’t you say we get something to eat, then go back to the precinct?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, “Sounds great.” 

He nodded and buckled himself back in, putting his hand on the gearshift and looking to you. 

“I’m proud of you, you know that?”

You smiled shyly, heat scorching your cheeks. “Yeah, I know. You’ve already told me.” 

“Just making sure you know, baby.” 

———— 

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[yourlocalfictionalenthusiast]

IN LIFE, IN DEATH...

Part One

Luke Patterson x Fem!reader

Summary: All you wanted was to play the biggest gig of your life with your best friends, but you just might get more than you bargained for.

Warnings: death and some swearing (I don’t think there is anything else but if there is, let me know!)

…

May 1994

“Shit.”

You whispered to yourself as you stared at the old clock on the diner’s wall.

It had only been half an hour since your shift started, but you were already anxious for it to be over.

Cece’s diner was normally one of your favorite places in the world. It was a small, poorly lit building in a boring part of L.A. It didn’t see much business since it wasn’t easy to find. But the air always smelled like fresh coffee and cinnamon.

You loved working there, but it was not where you wanted to be right now.

“You okay, (Y/n)?” A voice asked from behind the counter. You turned to see your boss Cece, a petite middle-aged woman who was eyeing the dirty table in front of you that you were supposed to be cleaning.

“Yeah, sorry. My mind is somewhere else.” You admitted, throwing the empty plates in the tray and carrying them to the kitchen.

Cece shook her head and let out a laugh as she followed. “On a certain guitarist, perhaps?”

Your cheeks flushed and Cece laughed again, grabbing the rag off her shoulder and smacking it against your arm lightly.

She was one of the few people who knew about your feelings for Luke Patterson. One of your best friends, childhood crush, and most recently, your bandmate.

“And for your information, I’m thinking about all of the band because we’re practicing tonight.”

“Uh-huh.” Cece hummed, a sly smile on her face.

She always pretended to be annoyed with your ramblings since you joined sunset curve, saying that a sixteen-year-old girl had no business being in a rock band. But you had caught her bragging about you to the few regulars you had multiple times.

She had a son living a few states away, but they weren’t close. So she treated you like her daughter. Which meant she wasn't the biggest fan of you constantly hanging around a bunch of teenage boys. But eventually, she warmed up to them. Especially Alex;  he was her favorite.

Luke, on the other hand, annoyed her to no end.

You ran the dishes under hot water and pressed a kiss to Cece’s cheek as you walked past her and back into the main room.

“Besides, Luke doesn’t like me like that.”

Cece rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to speak but the shrill ring of the phone cut her off. You let out a sigh, grateful for the distraction. She meant well, but when it came to your situation with Luke, you were more than happy to live in denial and ignoring it altogether.

He was your best friend. That’s all that mattered right now.

You shook the thoughts from your head and grabbed the phone’s receiver. “Cece’s Diner. How can I help you?”

“How much do you love me?”

Speak of the devil.

Your heart raced at the sound of Luke’s voice rang through your ears. His choice of words definitely not helping to calm you down. You shook your head, mentally scolding yourself.

“Luke?” You asked which prompted Cece to raise an eyebrow from the other side of the room.

“Hey. I’m sorry for calling you at work but I can’t finish this song and it’s driving me nuts. I need you and your genius brain to come help me.”

Despite your protests, the tap dance in your chest continued. It was ridiculous that after knowing Luke all your life, you were still shocked when he complimented you like that.

“I don’t get off until six, but I’ll come after.” You said, trying not to smile when you heard him cheer in victory. “And before Reggie asks, yes, I’ll bring coffee.”

Luke laughed before singing into the phone. “Get me a large with extra whipped cream and cinnamon.”

“I hate you.” You sang back, making a mental note to wipe off the smirk you could practically hear in his voice before the line went dead. You sighed as you put the phone back on the hook, holding a finger out to Cece.

“Not a word.”

A few hours later, you walked into Bobby’s garage, carrying a cardboard tray in each arm.

You sighed as you looked around the room. Every surface was covered in discarded paper balls and empty fast-food wrappers. You had expected to hear some form of music or at least some talking but the room was dead silent.

In the center of the mess, Alex and Reggie sat on the floor. Alex was trying to balance his drumsticks on his nose, and Reggie was mindlessly strumming his bass. Luke was sitting back on the couch, his eyebrows tightly knitted together as he frantically scribbled into his notebook.

“Your savior is here, and I come bearing coffee.”

All three heads whipped in your direction and within seconds, Reggie was excitedly bouncing his way towards you. He reached out to swipe a cup from the tray in your left hand. You swatted his arm away.

"Not that one. That’s Al’s.”

You set the rest of the drinks on the table in front of you and walked up to Alex. You handed him the cup and he gave you an appreciative smile. You always made sure to get him hot chocolate or tea, since you learned the hard way that caffeine can sometimes make his anxiety worse. He told you he didn’t want to admit that to the guys. So you were happy covering for him.

“Why does he get his own special one?” Reggie pouted as he grabbed another cup and strolled over to Luke, plopping down next to him on the couch. “And why is she the only one who can call you ‘Al’?”

“Because I’m his favorite.” You said, poking Reggie’s cheek as you passed him and took the other seat on the couch next to Luke. Alex just nodded, trying to hold back a smile.

“I thought you didn’t get off for another hour.” Luke said, looking up from his songbook for the first time since you got there.

“Cece knew it was important band stuff so she let me off early.” You shrugged.

“Oh no, she’s not mad at me, is she?” Luke shivered, thinking of all the times Cece had chewed him out for being a ‘bad influence’ on you or made him wipe down some tables for accidentally making you late for a shift. “You know I can’t stand when that woman is mad at me.”

“I also know that all you have to do is give her your little puppy-dog look and she’ll instantly forgive you.”

“Yeah, you guys are alike that way.” Luke teased, sticking his bottom lip out and batting his eyes dramatically.

“Yeah, yeah. So, what have you got so far?” You said as you bumped his shoulder with yours. He grinned and started translating his messy handwriting for all of you.

The four of you sat there for an hour putting all the words in the right places and by the time Bobby got there, you all felt confident that it was finally finished. You took your place behind your microphone and nodded.

“Okay, Al. Count us down.”

Alex twirled his drumsticks. “1…2…3…4!”

June, 1995

“Don’t look down.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you sang the song you had written a year ago. Your feet bouncing on the stage, the thin layer of sweat on your forehead.

To your left, Luke raised his arms, trying to hype up the non-existent crowd. Alex clashed his drumsticks together to the beat as all your voices came together.

“Cause we’re still rising up right now.”

You clapped along to the song, the energy coursing through your veins. Luke was in the middle of throwing his guitar behind his back. You rolled your eyes at him and he flashed you a small bashful smile before turning his head.

Your heart fluttered but you forced yourself to turn the other way, singing with Reggie just as the song transferred out of the bridge. The fog machines cued the ending chorus and you gripped your microphone with both hands.

“And even if we hit the ground, we’ll still fly.

Keep dreaming like we’ll live forever.

But living like it’s now or never.“

The other boy's voices dropped out until it was just you and Luke singing the chorus. You looked over at him, but his eyes were glued to the front of the room. Normally, you would share a mic for this part or at least stand close together, but he seemed determined to avoid you.

Just like he had been for the last six months.

You ignored the gaping pit in your stomach and poured all your focus into the song.

“Like it’s now or never!

It’s now or never!“

The final riff sounded and you let out an exhausted but proud sigh. There were a few scattered claps from the staff in the venue. But a curly-haired girl behind the counter was cheering especially loud. Reggie winked at her and leaned into his mic.

“Thank you! We’re Sunset Curve. Tell your friends.”

You rolled your eyes at him and pulled his arm, dragging him to the center of the stage. Alex came from his drum set and you gave him a high five.

“Al, you were amazing!”

“Yeah, dude, you were smoking.” Reggie agreed.

Alex blushed. “Nah, man. I was just warming up. You guys were the ones on fire.”

Reggie rolled his eyes. “Can you just own your awesomeness for once?”

Bobby and Luke nodded in agreement and you raised your eyebrows at Alex, nudging him until he finally smiled. “Okay, I was killing it!”

“I’m thinking we should fuel up before the show. Street dogs?” Luke asked. Alex and Reggie hummed in agreement but you wrinkled your nose.

“I think I’m gonna pass.” You said, jumping off the stage. It wasn’t that you had anything against street dogs, but as far as pre-gig activities go, it didn’t make your top ten list. 

Bobby landed next to you and started jogging towards the counter. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair and approached the girl wiping tables.

“Oh no.” You said. “Bobby, leave that poor girl alone.”

Bobby turned around just enough to give you a glare as you both reached the counter. The rest of the boys weren’t far behind. You felt Luke slip behind you and throw an arm on Bobby’s shoulder.

Bobby told the girl some line about being a vegetarian. But she shook it off, looking over all of you.

“You guys are really good.”

You smiled proudly. “Thank you.”

She returned your smile. “I’ve seen a lot of bands. Even been in a couple myself. I was really feeling it.”

Luke was practically beaming. The whole band contributed with the songs, of course, but you and Luke were the main writers, so it was always nice to hear people compliment your words. “That’s what we do this for. I’m Luke, by the way.”

“Hey, I’m Reggie.”

“Alex.”

“Bobby.”

“And I’m (Y/n).”

“Nice to meet you guys. I’m Rose.” She said, turning to you. “You have a great voice, by the way. It’s always cool to see a girl lead vocalist.”

Bobby snorted. You elbowed him and Luke gave him a wet-willy. “Oh, thank you. But I’m just co-lead.”

She opened her mouth to say something else but Reggie reached in his back pocket and pulled out a C.D and a t-shirt, handing them to her. “Here’s our demo, and a T-shirt, size beautiful.”

As if on cue, you and Alex rolled your eyes. You sent Rose an apologetic look as she held the shirt up to her body.

“Thanks, I’ll try not to wipe down the tables with this one.”

Alex nodded. “Good call! When they get wet, they kind of fall apart in your hands.”

Bobby glared at all of you. “Don’t you guys have to go get hot dogs?”

Luke pushed Bobby back and leaned on the counter with both arms. “Yeah, he had a hamburger for lunch.”

The boys started going towards the exit but stopped when Alex noticed you hesitating. “You coming?”

You really didn’t want hotdogs, but you also didn’t want to stay and listen to Bobby attempt to flirt with Rose. So you nodded and followed Alex to the door.

“Hey, (Y/n)!” Rose called out and you turned around. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

You gave her a warm smile before walking out into the alley. The night air hit your skin and you shivered slightly. It wasn’t cold, but it was definitely a change from the sweaty stage. You wrapped your jacket around your shoulders.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Luke whooped as he jumped through the doors and into the alleyway.

Alex gestured around, wrinkling his nose. “The smell of Sunset Boulevard?”

Luke shoved his shoulder. “No.”

You jumped out of the way as Luke splashed in a puddle. “It’s what that girl said in there. About our music.”

His eyes flickered to you when he said ‘our’ but quickly looked away. It was practically the first time he had acknowledged your presence all night.

“It connects us with people, you know? They can feel us when we play.” He said excitedly, slowing his walking until the rest of you caught up with him.

He reached each arm up and pulled Reggie to his side with one arm and despite being right next to you, he pulled Alex to his other side. You turned your head forward to hide the confused look on your face but you knew Alex saw it.

Other than Cece, he was the only person who knew about your feelings for Luke. You could tell from the look on his face that he was just as confused with Luke’s recent behavior as you were, but he didn’t say anything.

“I want that connection with everybody.”

“Then we’re gonna need more T-shirts.” You heard Reggie say as you reached the end of the alley. You pulled up the hood of your jacket and turned your head away from the line in front of the venue.

You didn't mean to walk so fast, but you were the first one at the alleyway a few blocks away from the Orpheum. You made your hotdog and made small talk with the vendor for a few minutes before the guys caught up.

“You trying to ditch us, (Y/n)?” Reggie asked, putting ingredients on his hotdog.

“Not my fault you guys are slow.” You stuck your tongue at him and he squinted at you. Alex groaned. You looked over at him to see him trying to put a pickle on his tray.

“Man, I can’t wait until the day we can eat someplace where the condiments aren’t served out of the back of an Oldsmobile.”

As he apologized to the vendor for getting pickle juice on his battery cables, you, Luke, and Reggie made your way to one of the old couches. They both sat down, leaving one open space next to Luke.

You made a point of sitting on the arm of the couch, letting your feet dangle on the seat. If Luke was going to avoid you, then you were going to avoid him right back. You also avoided the questioning look Reggie gave you before Alex sat down.

Luke didn’t seem to notice. He was bouncing his leg and couldn’t seem to stop smiling, it was obvious that he was still buzzing with energy from the soundcheck.

“This is awesome, you guys.” He said as he made himself comfortable between Reggie and Alex. “We’re playing the Orpheum! Do you know how many bands that played here ended up being huge?”

You rolled your eyes and smiled while the boys chuckled. You were all used to seeing the intense side of Luke, but he had been an even bigger ball of excited energy ever since you booked the Orpheum gig. It could be a little much for the guys sometimes, but the way his eyes lit up when he talked about music never failed to make you smile.

“I’m serious.” Luke insisted as he leaned forward and raised his hotdog in a toast. “Eat up, guys. Because after tonight, everything changes.”

You all toasted and then started to eat. Usually, street dogs weren’t half bad. But this time there was a burnt, nasty flavor that made it hard to swallow. Alex saw your face and nodded in agreement.

Even Luke, who had a super-human stomach, made a face. But his hunger must’ve won out cause he took another big bite.

“That’s a new flavor.” Alex said with his mouth full.

“Relax, man. Street dogs haven’t killed us yet.” Reggie told him as he took another bite. You still didn’t feel one hundred percent confident about it but you shrugged and kept eating.

It all happened so fast.

At first, it felt like you were dreaming. Like maybe you had just fallen asleep and would eventually wake up and realize that everything was just a nightmare.

But then the outline of Los Angeles floated away in a haze of grey and you were left in the dark. There was nothing but silence until you heard a voice somewhere in front of you.

It was the sound of Alex’s frantic ranting.

You could feel Reggie and Luke next to you, but they didn’t say anything. You didn’t either.

But you didn’t really need to. It was glaringly obvious what happened, you could feel it in your bones.

You were dead.

Alex’s ranting slowly turned into crying, which made you cry. Luke heard your quiet sniffles and for the first time in months, he touched you.

He reached out and intertwined your fingers loosely in his, gently swiping his thumb across your knuckles. You closed your eyes, trying to soak up the feeling. This was the closest to him you had been in since that night in the studio.

It seemed like so long ago, but at the same time, it was all too familiar. You knew that if you stayed in this moment with him any longer, you would fall apart completely.

So you turned away from him and buried your head in Alex’s shoulder. It seemed like hours passed before the silence was broken and the opening of Now or Never filled the air.

“Is that…?” You started, but before you could finish, the floor disappeared from under you.

You hit the ground with a painful groan and blinked at the sudden flood of bright light. You felt movement next to you and saw Reggie struggling to get up.

You hauled yourself up and turned around to realize you were back in Bobby’s garage. It looked so different that you almost didn’t recognize it. There was a new grand piano and flowers on every table. The room was free of any trash or discarded flannels.

But the biggest change by far, was the girl standing in front of you.

She was about your age with brown hair tied in a ponytail, in a bright yellow shirt, and furry slippers. She was staring at the four of you with wide eyes and a terrified look on her face.

“How did we get back here?” Luke said as he scanned the studio.

The girl screamed, which made the boys scream and cling to each other. Reggie threw himself against Luke and pulled you behind him.

They all screamed for a few more seconds before the girl ran out of the garage doors. You cautiously walked out from behind Reggie and towards the middle of the room, spinning in a full circle.

The boys started talking but you were still mesmerized by all the changes made to the studio.

You looked up towards the ceiling and saw that there were chairs hanging by the loft and countless tiny plants by the windows but you could still see the nail polish-stain you had made on the carpet and the dents in the beams from all the times Luke had messed up his guitar throw.

Carefully, you reached towards the piano and tried to touch a vase of flowers but they passed right through your fingers. Your entire hand went numb then a tingly feeling spread throughout your body.

Well, two things were for sure.

You were definitely back, but you were definitely dead.

[omori-brainrot]

The Only One Left

tws: suicide, emetophobia, self-harm, death, grief, alcohol mentions

After the worst neutral ending, Aubrey and Kel soon follow Mari, Basil, and Sunny. Hero is the only one left, and he’s struggling to live with that. But at least his college friends are there when he needs it most.

I’m so sorry but this barged into my brain and wouldn’t leave until it was written and posted.

When Hero goes back to school after the funeral, he hangs one of Kel’s old jerseys on the knob of his dorm-room closet. He needs something to remember his brother by, something to make him feel like he’s not alone. Of course, he’s not really alone. He’s still an underclassman, so he shares his room with Josh.

He’d gotten lucky with his roommate: they’d managed to reach the storybook ideal of not only getting along, but becoming friends. Still. He wished there was no one around to see him cry for hours over the jersey, to see him start favoring the snooze button over his morning classes, to see him sink deeper into himself until he was sure he’d never surface.

Josh had been good-natured about it, at least. He never pointed out the cutting classes when Hero despaired about his grades after the fact, and when Hero couldn’t bring himself to stop sobbing when Josh needed to study, he just put on headphones or went to the library without a single complaint or sign of annoyance.

Hero wonders if Josh knows how close he feels to dying too.

How everyday feels like tar is pulsing through his body, getting caught in his organs and weighing him down until it feels like he’ll never breathe again.

He tells himself that if he joined his old friends, he’d be inflicting the same pain he lived with everyday onto his college friends. That if he were gone, their lives would be shattered instead of his.

Get over yourself. They don’t care that much. They don’t even know you. You only met a year and a half ago. They were fine without you before then. And besides, you’re not the best company anyway. You weren’t there though to stop Mari from hanging herself. You couldn't see the signs. You weren’t there enough to stop Sunny and Basil from stabbing themselves the night before Sunny was supposed to get a new start. You should have reached out earlier. You weren’t there enough to keep Aubrey from getting into that stupid drunk accident. You knew she was drinking too much and too often in an attempt to make her world bearable, you should have done something. You couldn’t stop Kel from poisoning himself with all those chemicals in the bathroom. You knew how hard it was for him to open up about negative emotions without being prompted, and you knew he was so alone after everyone else left. You should have come back from college more often. Why would anyone still want to be friends with you? Why would anyone care if someone like you was gone?

When thinking about his new friends doesn’t work, he reminds himself of his parents. They’d already lost one child. They’d be devastated to lose another. He couldn’t do that to them.

It doesn’t matter. They’re disappointed in you anyway. They see your falling grades and talk about how you shouldn’t give up on your dreams just because of what happened to Kel. They don’t understand that your only dream now is to make this constant pain stop. Besides, what does it matter if this hurts them? They should have been there for Kel when you were gone. As soon as you think that, you feel terrible. Which only makes you want to hurt yourself more.

Still, something makes him want to keep trying for a little while longer. Whatever it takes.

Which is how he ends up sitting over the trash can, taking a flimsy plastic dining hall knife to his arms.

If he wants to hurt himself but doesn’t want to die, this is the best he can do. Besides, it’s a little past midnight after a Friday, so Josh is attending whatever gatherings a non-imploding person attends on a Friday night.

Hero supposes that he should feel worse that things have come to this. But with every sting he only feels relief, even when he presses hard enough for the knife to draw shallow lines of blood.

For once, he’s barely thinking about anything else. Even with the jersey casting a shadow at the corner of his eye. He could get used to this sense of mindless pain.

When the door swings open and the light flicks on at a much earlier time than expected, his first response is to flinch back. It’s a second too late when it occurs to him that she should be rolling his sleeves back down.

Josh runs over, gently grabbing his arms and keeping him from doing so. “Wait. Wait.” He inspects the wounds for a moment. Looking worried, yet relieved that the injuries aren’t serious, he locks eyes with Hero. “Are you okay?” Hero opens his mouth, searching for an answer, but Josh continues. “Wait, you don’t have to answer that. That was a dumb question. Of course you’re not.”

“Yeah.” Hero says under his breath. He averts his eyes to the side of Josh’s head. He should have been more careful. What kind of person gets caught their first time self-harming? No wonder he’s so useless.

“If you let me take the knife with me, I can get some wet paper towels from the bathroom to help you clean up.” Josh holds out his hand, eyebrows creased in concern but eyes wide with expectation. Hero hands the knife over, ignoring the pang of reluctance to stop.

Josh races out of the room, and Hero takes a moment to look at his own cuts. He’s surprised at how many there are. He’d stopped paying attention while he was doing it. However, none of them look very bad, with the worst only bleeding very lightly.

Josh comes back faster than Hero expected, and diligently gets to work pressing the paper towels to the bleeding cuts. Hero winces a little at the sting, but he doesn’t mind this. It reminds him of when he was a child and his mother would clean up his scrapes. He realizes with a jolt that he doesn’t want to go back to hurting himself tonight.

“I hope you don’t mind me prying, but does this have anything to do with what you were telling me a couple months ago?”

“About—” Hero swallows thickly. He can’t bring himself to clarify. Besides, what could Josh be referring to besides Kel’s death? “Yeah.” His voice comes out strained.

“I’m sorry.” They sit in silence for a moment. “Hey, would it make it better or worse if I got Michelle and Dennis? We could get ice cream and you could tell us about your brother. Dennis said that helped when his aunt died.”

He was sure he’d want to say no—heck, he couldn’t bring himself to go to his favorite classes easily. But ice cream sounded nice, and he’d never noticed it before, but he was aching for someone to talk to. There was only one issue.

“Isn’t it almost one a.m.?”

Josh waved a hand dismissively. “That’s no problem if you want to go. I know a great all-night diner.”

That’s how he ended up in a nearly empty Denny’s with a few casual friends.

“Of course he’d refer to Denny’s as ‘a great all-night diner’.” Michelle dips a fry in her chocolate milkshake. Hero smiles slightly at her, eating a spoonful of his hot fudge sundae. The coldness of the ice cream is soothing, and he feels just a little bit better.

“Yeah, Josh, did you think Hero’s never heard of Denny’s before?”

“Hey, you’re not one to criticize me here. We came here for ice cream and you got pancakes.” Josh’s voice is light with playful teasing.

“So? They’re dessert pancakes. And there’s a scoop of ice cream on them.” Dennis gestures to the scoop with a flourish. “What does that have to do with you treating Denny’s like some obscure local mystery, anyway?”

Hero laughs a little. It feels unfamiliar and distant, but at the same time, somehow… right. He’s glad to not be alone tonight. Josh smiles with him. His eyes are still tinged with worry, but he’d reassured Hero on the drive here that none of the others had been told about the self-harm.

“So, Josh said we’re here because you had something to get off your mind?” Michelle looks at him, her worry less intense but still noticeable, like the mechanical whirring of a fridge in the background.

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat, poking at his sundae. How could he even begin to say what was wrong? Hero figured he should just start with the part that had been hurting him the most in the past months. “I don’t know if you remember my brother’s funeral a while ago, but…”

“You miss him?” Her voice is soft, gentle.

He nods, tears burning in his eyes.

“What was he like?”

Hero takes a rattling breath. “He really liked basketball. He played it every day after school. I don’t think he was all that close with anyone on his team, but he liked playing it a lot.”

“Is the jersey on your closet his team jersey?” Josh glances at him.

He shakes his head. “No, he just bought that one at the store. Sports clothes were like his default uniform, whether he had practice or not.”

Dennis nods slightly. “I’ve known people like that. I think they just practice so much it’s not worth changing clothes.”

A small smile tugs at Hero’s lips. “Yep, that sounds like Kel. Always on the move.” He glances across the restaurant at another one of the late-night patrons, someone about his age drinking a cup of coffee. “Honestly, I bet part of it was all the caffeine .” Hero wrinkles his nose, a strange mixture of affection and loss nested in the hollowness of his chest. “He drank an unnatural amount of Orange Joe.”

“I didn’t know anyone actually drank that.” Michelle takes a long sip of her milkshake.

“Small base of loyal customers, I guess.” A memory drifts into Hero’s mind, and for once he doesn’t push it away. “I can’t believe he kept drinking it after that hot dog competition. He won, but he drank so much Orange Joe afterwards that he threw up before we left the fair. He always said it was worth it, though.”

Michelle shakes her head. “Siblings.”

For a moment, Hero is reminded of a dozen other conversations he’s had about Kel. He’d tell his grade school classmates about a recent squabble, or something funny Kel did, and that’s what they’d say.

Then the stark contrast of reality hits him. This isn’t a petty fight that will be resolved in a few hours, or a story where nothing serious is wrong. He’s up at one am having this conversation because Kel is gone, because Kel will never win another game, will never drink more unhealthy quantities of soda, will never even graduate high school. He’s here because Kel was found dead on the bathroom floor, next to an emptied bottle of cleaning fluid, and Hero hadn’t done enough to stop him.

He puts his spoon down and lays his head in his arms. Everything feels so heavy. “I should have been there.”

“It wasn’t your fault—” Josh starts, but Hero doesn’t let him finish.

“Yes, it was!” A few of the other late-night patrons glance at their table, and he realizes he said that much louder than he meant to. Taking a shuddering breath, he continues more quietly. “I should have been there. I could have taken more time off school, he was more important than a few stupid assignments. I…” he has to stop to take another uneven breath. His voice is shaky, and he’s not sure how much longer he can speak before he dissolves into sobs, so he talks faster. “I knew he was having a hard time, and I don’t think anyone else could tell because he just acted like he was fine. If I had been there…” He breaks. The crying he was holding back can’t be contained any longer. His shoulders shake and his throat burns. He doesn’t even care if the other people in the diner are staring. Through a blur of tears, he can see his friends looking at him with concern, waiting for him to get it all out.

When he catches his breath, he forces himself to keep talking. He feels like he has to get this out, no matter how much it hurts, no matter if he has to look away from his friends to bear to say it. “He killed himself. And I wasn’t there.”

Michelle is the first to speak. “I’m so sorry…”

Josh puts a hand over his. “That’s horrible… I’m sorry you have to live with that.” He pulls his hand back. “You must feel horribly guilty, but I really don’t think it was your fault.”

“You… don’t?” God, he imagines he looks so pathetic right now.

“Yeah, I mean, you’re just a person. There’s only so much you could have done. You clearly loved him a lot, and I’m sure that meant a lot to him.”

“But it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t there enough.” Hero’s sure he sounds like a broken record, but it’s all he’s been able to think about in the months since Kel’s death.

“Dude, you can’t save everyone. You can’t hold yourself to that standard.” Dennis’s voice is gentle, encouraging.

Hero looks away again, fresh tears emerging. “If that was all it was, maybe I’d think you’re right. But it’s not the first time this has happened.” He picks up his spoon, smushing the unmelted parts of the ice cream as he speaks. “I looked it up and it’s called a suicide cluster, but everyone else in town just calls it a curse.” He wipes away the new tears. “It doesn’t matter what you call it, though. Everyone I’ve grown up with is gone.”

“Shit…” For once, Josh is at a loss for words.

Michelle shakes her head. “It’s still not your fault. The only person who’s life and mental health you’re personally responsible for is your own. The most any of us can do for anyone else is be there and hope that’s enough, but if it’s not, that’s not your fault.”

Josh seems to come back to himself. “Yeah, absolutely. I stand by what I said before, no matter how many people died, because the same logic applies each time.”

“Wow… thanks.” It hasn’t fully set in, and to be honest, he doesn’t fully believe it either, but hearing that someone else believes it makes him feel a little better. “I’m… I’m scared it will never stop. What if everyone I get close to just keeps dying?”

“I… don’t think that will happen.” Dennis shrugs. “I mean, no matter what your town says, you’re not cursed or anything. It won’t go on forever.”

“Yeah, I guess so. My brain just needs to catch up, I guess.”

“It will, eventually.”

Michelle tilts her head slightly to one side. “If you don’t mind me asking, who else did you lose? No pressure, don’t answer if it will make things worse.”

Hero shakes his head. “It’s fine, I came here to get things off my chest anyway.” He pauses for a moment. “Let’s see… first, there was my high school girlfriend. That was four years ago. Last summer, her younger brother and a boy we were friends with growing up died on the same night, and earlier this year, before what happened to Kel, another friend got into an accident.” He feels like he should be more emotional as he says it, but he just feels empty. Like he’ll never feel human again.

“That’s terrible… if you ever want to talk about any of them, I’d be glad to listen.”

“Thanks.” The missing emotion is already bubbling back up a bit, and he has to swallow back tears. “You know, I don’t think anyone’s really asked me about any of them before tonight.” He sighs. “I kind of wish they would, now. I really liked telling you guys about Kel.”

“He sounds like a great brother.”

Hero’s tears start falling again, but somehow it isn’t as bad as before. “Thanks, he was.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

One Night 🌙 1

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (to be warned later in series); consensual sex (one night stand, dirty bathroom sex)

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: One night changes your entire life.

Based on these lyrics:

‘It's New York, baby, always jacked up (Hey) Holland Tunnel for a nose, it's always backed up [Sniffing] When she's alone, she goes home to a cactus (Uh) In a black dress, she's such an actress [Sniffing] Driving me crazy, but I'm into it, but I'm into it I'm kinda into it It's getting crazy, I think I'm losing it, I think I'm losing it Oh, I think she said "I'm having your baby, it's none of your business" "I'm having your baby, it's none of your business" (it's none of your, it's none of your) "I'm having your baby, it's none of your business" "I'm having your baby, it's none of your, it's none of your...’ 

for @kittykatlow​‘s 200 Follower Celebration

Note: I haven’t written Andy yet but here’s the first part of a short series! The darkness will come slow so warnings will be given on all chapters just to protect people. Anyways, let’s get started.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Warmth hazed your vision. A stronger heat radiated from your chest. You were so deliciously drunk you barely noticed the smell of piss that undercut the dusky cologne of the man against you. His short beard tickled you as he kissed your neck hungrily.

You clung to the top of the stall as he pinned you against the metal divider. Your legs wrapped around him as your skirt bunched up around your thighs. Well, you'd borrowed the denim atrocity from Felicia but that didn't matter much.

He hiked your skirt higher, rolling it around your waist as his large hand stretched over one half of your ass. His other hand fumbled between your bodies as he struggled to undo his fly.

His breath shuddered and his deep voice whisked over your lips as he looked into your eyes. Your eyelids were heavy with liquor and you felt like you were floating. He was drunk too, his cheeks flushed red with rye.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

You grabbed the back of his neck with your free hand and pulled his lips to yours. You kissed him sloppily as your hand snaked down his shoulder and around to his chest.

Lower, you grasped the top of his pants and slid down his zipper. You reached into his boxers and pulled your head back with a giggle. You stroked him and tugged the front of his pants and boxers below his dick. He groaned as you turned your hand and fondled his sac.

"I'm sure," You breathed as you grasped his length again. "I want you."

You pulled aside your panties and rubbed his head along your folds. You teasingly guided him to your entrance. You squeezed him tighter with your legs as you welcomed all of him. He gasped and kneaded your ass as he slapped the stall with his other hand.

"Oh god!" He groaned as he pushed himself as deep as he could go.

You purred and tilted your hips into him. He lifted you and began to rock, gliding you up and down his cock. You bit your lip as you gripped his shoulder tightly. 

A toilet flushed but you barely noticed the slosh of water. Your other hand stayed hooked around the top of the wall as the man worked in tandem with you.

His hot hand left the wall and he pushed it between you. He pressed his thumb to your clit as he stepped back slightly. You hung at an angle between him and the side of the stall as he watched himself play with you. Watched him slide in and out of you, faster and faster.

Your thighs tensed around him as your voices mingles in a drunken melody over the beating of your flesh.

"You cumming?" He asked gruffly and flicked his thumb faster.

You let out a strangled moan and your eyes rolled back. You gasped, ‘yes’, and the waves rolled under your skin and crested in a great deluge.

"You gonna make me cum?" He growled. "Yeah, baby, I'm gonna cum."

You tried to blink away your dizziness as his words cut through your drunken haze. He kept your body bouncing against his. You wanted him to stop but couldn't think of why. More, you wanted him to keep going.

"Here it...comes," He jerked into you several times as he hung his head back. He grunted and slowed to halt as his entire body trembled. A long sigh escaped his lips.

He pulled out of you slowly and lowered you back to the floor as your legs fell from around him. You braced the metal wall and wobbled in your chunky heels. 

His cum leaked down your leg and you drunkenly reached for the roll of tissue. You wiped yourself with the rough one-ply and missed the toilet bowl as you tossed it. 

His zipper was loud as you fixed your panties and pulled your skirt straight. He sniffed and puffed his chest.

"That was..."

"Fun." You finished for him. "My friends are gonna start looking for me."

"Ah, yep," He nodded. "Luckily, I don't have that problem."

"Shouldn't drink alone," You murmured. "You'll get in trouble."

"Think I already did," He laughed and unlocked the stall door. "You okay?"

"I think I'm great," You grinned dopily. 

You nodded past the door and he returned the gesture. He left as you waited there. You stumbled out of the stall shortly after the bathroom door closed.

You crossed to the mirror and stared at your reflection. Through the alcohol burning the pit in your stomach, the shame began to seep through.

You hadn't expected a night at the bar. Didn't expect to be dancing on a stranger to old 90s jams. Or to be riding him by the toilets.

You also hadn't expected to have your hours cut at the diner. The job you'd worked forty hours a week for almost ten years gave away your hours to the owner's daughter so she could "pay her own way". 

You shook your head and stepped away from the sink. Your drunken antics had already led you to stupidity, it would do no good to get yourself worked up. Not in this state. Not here.

Best to go find Felicia and tell her it was time to go.

🌙

Usually you worked Saturday breakfasts but Brittany had that pleasure now that she was saving for college. All the better as you didn’t even roll out of bed that morning. You were so hungover that your mom even came in to check on you. She left a bottle of tylenol and a glass of water beside your bed. And you didn’t miss the look she sent your way.

You were too old to be drinking like that. Too old to be living in your parents house. Well, that wasn’t entirely within your control.

The day was spent in the dark. Still, silent. 

Sunday you woke up, mostly recovered. You did your laundry, a hamper full of clothes formerly strewn across your bedroom floor. You dropped the denim skirt in last, a string of semen dried across the hem. Felicia didn’t need to know. 

As you wasted time on your phone, you still had a shadow over you. You could barely remember the night. Only glimpses of the bar and the bathroom stall. The vibrant sensation which had overwhelmed you. The soft tickle of a thick beard and eyes bluer than the ocean. Eyes a deep and ominous as the harbour.

Monday saw you back to work. You served coffee to the regulars as the small flat screen mounted in the corner played the news. You went to grab the order from the window and returned to Brenda and Leah; the two widows who argued over soap operas and ogled the cook.

As you set their plates down you glanced up at the screen. You froze as you saw the familiar face staring back at you.

‘...Barber’s wife and son were found a year ago today. His wife lost control of their vehicle and crashed into the side of an overpass. While his son, Jacob, remained on life support for only a month, his wife, Laurie remains in the hospital. Doctors await Mr. Barber’s decision as he returns to his position as Assistant District Attorney for Newton.’

You blinked and felt a warmth on your hand. Leah’s creased fingers cupped yours.

“You okay, sweetie?” She asked.

“Uh, yeah, I just… Did you need more coffee?” You cleared your throat.

“Oh, no, doctor says I need to cut back on the caffeine.” She said.

“We have decaf.” You offered.

“I’m good with water.” She smiled.

You nodded and backed away. You went to the large industrial coffee machine and replaced the filter for a new pot. You made another round of the diner as you offered refills and tried to outrun your own thoughts. 

That was the man. You knew it. It all came flooding back as his picture shone on the screen. That night, in your drunken trance, you’d sworn you recognized him but you also had half a bottle of sambuca burning out your brain. You were sure now as you recalled the stall, the feel of his body against yours, the heat of his flesh, the sheer pleasure etched across his face. You knew it because that tickle formed in your core and did not relent.

You checked the clock. Only nine. You had a whole six hours left. You just couldn’t focus now as you avoided looking again at the television. He was married. Worse, his wife was in a coma. Sure you two were drunk but that wasn’t an excuse. 

Had he taken advantage of you or was it the other way around? Either way, you wouldn’t go to that bar again. Thankfully, you’d likely never see him again. Newton was a big enough town for that.

🌙

Your shift at the diner ended and you raced to the cafe three blocks down, barely dodging a car as you crossed the street. You had less than ten minutes to get in and change into your other uniform. Two months since the diner pared down your hours and your second job offered just enough to augment what you’d lost, though your days often lasted more than twelve hours and your nights were shorter and shorter.

You felt sick at the smell of the quiche baking in the oven as you entered. You slipped behind the counter and into the back room. You passed the racks of empty muffin tins and dipped into the storage room. You quickly exchanged your minty green shirt for the plain black one with the golden name tag.

You rubbed your stomach as you clocked in and tiptoed out behind the counter.

“Am I on cash?” You asked Taylor as she plated the quiche for her customer.

“Dishes,” She said staunchly and turned back with a fake smile to serve up the smelly egg tart. “You’re late.”

“No, I punched in on time,” You argued.

“Yes, but you should be on the floor five minutes early. We’ve had this conversation.” She smiled as another customer entered. “Now go do the dishes.”

You went to the end of the counter, where the sink was hidden next to the espresso machine. You ran the hot water and dumped the stack of square plates into the deep sink. You took the hose and began to scour each before setting it into the silver rack above. Your stomach flipped again and you gulped back the mouthful of bile which rose suddenly.

You shook it off and kept on. When you finished you dried each plate, bowl, and mug carefully and set them along the pristine shelves. You went back to Taylor and she huffed.

“Take the other till,” She said as if you were clueless. “It’s almost six, that’s mean the rush is coming.”

You nodded. You saved your retort as it threatened to come up with your lunch. Maybe those leftovers weren’t as fresh as you’d thought. You went to the other machine and greeted a customer. As you took their order, you struggled not to spew and repeated it back to them, each word measured and fearful.

“I’ll just get that coffee,” You said and turned to fill a paper cup from the machine. “I just need to pop back to grab cinnamon.”

You spun, not awaiting a response and rushed into the back. You flitted through to the back door and opened it just in time for your guts to spill over the tarmac. You wretched, mindful not to dribble any on your apron, and stayed bent over your mess. You waited, making sure it was all out and stood.

You let the door shut heavily and tore a wad of paper towel from the wall and wiped your mouth. You shuddered at the curdle in your stomach. You grabbed a bottle of cinnamon and headed back out. You didn’t need to give Taylor anymore reason to be a bitch. You’d rather nausea than her attitude.

🌙

When the nausea didn’t persist for a week, you caved and went to the clinic. You spent your day off in a waiting room and cursed yourself. It wasn’t a flu, you had no coughing or sneezing, or any other outstanding symptoms. 

After a round of questions, there was one that caught you entirely off guard. ‘Are you sexually active?’ Not exactly.’ ‘Well, when’s the last time you had sex?’ ‘Two months ago’.

You stared at the doctor. Dumbfounded. It couldn’t be. You couldn’t recall if he had... inside of you. Had he? Had you let him?

“Okay, well, we’re just going to take a blood sample and rule out pregnancy before we proceed.” Doctor Neshi was short and her dark hair was greying at the roots. She never smiled but wasn’t unkind.

You nodded and she set aside her clipboard. You made yourself sit still as your blood was taken and you were left to wait in purgatory. Please, please, please. You couldn’t be pregnant. And with a stranger’s baby. Well, you knew who he was. Most of Newton did. But you didn’t know him.

You swung your legs as you sat on the bed, hands folded in your lap. You felt your stomach. Was it bigger? Was it all in your head? Too many croissants from the cafe? The door opened and you sat straight, dropping your hands to your side.

“Miss,” Dr. Neshi closed the door softly and turned to you. “It would seem you are pregnant and that is likely the source of your illness.”

You shook your head and sighed. You touched your forehead and held in a sob.

“I can prescribe you anti-nausea medicine safe for pregnancy and it is our policy to provide all those in need with resources on their options in this situation.” She went to the counter in the corner and gathered a handful of fliers from the stand there. “These will be good to start with. I would suggest a visit to the hospital, they provide counseling service as well as several others offered in these.”

She held out the brochures and you took them from her stiffly. You hopped off the table and swallowed.

“Thanks,” You said breathlessly. 

Her expression was almost sympathetic. Almost. 

“Sorry, dear,” Her voice showed more than her face as she showed you out of the room.

You walked out onto the street and shuffled through the pamphlets. Adoption, abortion, pregnancy care, home birth… 

You were going to be sick. Again.

[yan-purgatory]

Netflix and Kill

request: CHANGKYUN possessive yandere! Where he's your quite neighbor who slowly opens up to you but you have a house Netflix date with another member, he can't handle that, time skip you go to your kitchen to get some midnight snacks(same night after the date) and find kyun in the kitchen sitting in the dark etc etc👀

pairing: changkyun x reader

word count: 1.8k

admin: ღ

The first time (Y/N) had “met” their neighbour was the day after they moved in. There was a knock at the door, leading (Y/N) to abandon the assembly of their IKEA wardrobe and greet her visitor. By the time they were at the door however, there was no person but rather a box of fresh cookies, and there was a young man walking away. (Y/N) stepped out to try to talk to him and thank him, but he just walked straight back into his apartment and locked the door.

(Y/N) picked up the box with a smile on their face, the smell bringing a rush of happiness and peace to their exhausted body after days of heavy labour. Meanwhile, her neighbour was just watching through his peephole to see their reaction, letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in in seeing the delighted smile of his new neighbour.

Changkyun collapsed on the sofa. He didn’t know why his heart was beating so fast when he hadn’t even interacted with them, when most of the people he saw on a day-to-day basis disgusted him and he had to put on the facade of kindness in order to advance in society. Yet, he was secretly yearning to speak to his new neighbour, a completely foreign feeling to his cold heart. Even if he’d put in the bare minimum effort by buying some simple cookies from the bakery, they seemed to treasure his gift and he liked that feeling.

Before he quite knew what he was doing, he was writing an email to his landlord to ask for the new resident’s name. There was a pit of worry when he hit send that his request would not be received and he would never be able to learn enough about the person who was occupying his brain.

Luckily, by that evening he had his reply, and his night was spent scouring the internet, fascinated by the enigma (L/N) (Y/N).

~ ღ ~

The next time that (Y/N) encountered their quiet neighbour face-to-face was a week later, when checking their mail in the morning. He was already there, a few envelopes in his hand and ready to leave only to stop in place when he saw (Y/N).

“Hi.” (Y/N) smiled awkwardly. “I don’t think I’ve had the chance to introduce myself.”

He nodded, not saying a word with his eyes trained on them.

“My name is (Y/N), and I’m the new chef at the Traveller.” They said, stretching out their hand for him.

Of course, Changkyun knew that but he didn’t dare tell them that. (Y/N) didn’t need to know how he’d spent long nights pouring over the social media of them, their friends, their family, just shooting any form of the drug that was (L/N) (Y/N). Nonetheless he took their hand in his own and gave it a firm shake, enjoying the soft feeling of their skin against his. It was better than anything he’d absorbed from the computer screen.

“Changkyun.” He replied shortly.

“Your cookies were delicious, by the way.” (Y/N) offered him a grin as they withdrew their hand from the slightly too long handshake.

“Thank you.” A ghost of a smile ran over his lips. “I’m afraid I’m not much of a cook otherwise.”

“Well maybe I can teach you. It is my job after all.” His neighbour said cheerily. He nodded and pushed past them to leave the mailroom, hoping they couldn’t hear his racing heart.

By God, Changkyun had never been so infatuated with anyone in his life. There was something about them, about the way that they smiled at him that made him feel alive.

~ ღ ~

In the passing months, (Y/N) found themselves establishing a closer bond with Changkyun. Teaching him how to cook their favorite dishes, helping him decorate his drab apartment for Christmas, listening to the playlist he made for them on spotify. All the while, his obsession with his neighbour was spiralling downwards - when (Y/N) stood a bit too close to him, the desire to bury his nose in his hair and breathe in their gorgeous scent was almost uncontrollable. When (Y/N) would stagger up the stairs drenched because they forgot an umbrella, his hands twitched to remove their wet clothes and run his hands down their naked body. (Y/N) had become his night and day, and they didn’t even know it.

He’d taken to walking around the block at 8PM on Thursdays, since usually (Y/N)’s shift was over and they would be walking back only to coincidentally run into Changkyun and have him accompany them home. However, when he engaged in his daily ritual on that night, he saw no sign of his neighbour. Clearly, their work was taking over their life - he was considering phoning their boss as their boyfriend to ask that she doesn’t work any more overtime, since it was depriving them of time together. A little white lie never hurt anybody, no?

However, just as he was arriving home and unlocking his door, he heard the familiar soothing sound of (Y/N)’s voice.

“No way! I swear, I’ll kill you one day.” Their laughter was medicine to his ears, but he froze in place when he heard another voice accompanying it.

“You’d never do that, you love me far too much.” The words sent shivers down Changkyun’s spine. Was there a secret boyfriend behind the scenes that he didn’t know about? Had he spent all this time chasing after someone who had already been taken?

(Y/N) didn’t even pay any attention to Changkyun, rooted to the spot in front of his door - as they dragged their partner over to their flat and continued to babble on.

He felt himself shaking with rage, at himself and at her. How could she seek out the company of someone else when he was always there for her?

All ideas of going to bed were now abandoned, as Changkyun abandoned his home to sit outside of (Y/N)’s door and listen in on the interaction.

He heard the ‘Ba-Boom’ of Netflix turning on, the sound of popping corn, and then relative silence whilst (Y/N) and their vermin watched some film together bar the occasional snarky comment.

It was practically torture, knowing that (Y/N) was with another man, possibly even cuddling with him. Changkyun wanted nothing more than to rip the bastard into shreds, but he had to be patient.

As the hours trickled by, he felt his eyelids starting to droop. Surely a coffee wouldn’t hurt, he posed to himself. If he had the caffeine, he could stay up and talk to (Y/N) long after that vermin had scampered. It was when he was on his way out of the apartment holding the steaming cup of joe that he ran into the man who had been plaguing (Y/N). And like that, an idea popped into Changkyun’s head.

“You’re (Y/N)’s newest victim then?” He spoke in a low voice, hoping that regardless of what state (Y/N) was in they wouldn’t hear him.

Kihyun gazed at him quizzically.

“What do you mean?”

“I see men like you in there most nights of the week. They’re practically the village bicycle.” Changkyun scoffed, taking a sip of coffee.

“We just watched a few movies, we didn’t fuck?” His rival retorted, but Changkyun just laughed coldly.

“They’re buttering you up. I wouldn’t expect them to be ‘friends’ with you for much longer.”

“Why are you- never mind.” The man sighed, turning on his heel to leave the building.

“Have a nice night!” Changkyun called after him, barely able to contain his shit-eating grin. Yes, it was satisfying to indulge in (Y/N), to admire them like anyone else. But it was way more fun to see the ones once enamoured with the ethereal being scamper away with their tail between their legs.

With the nuisance gone, Changkyun decided to enter (Y/N)’s apartment. The door was left slightly ajar, practically inviting him into the warm haven.

His angel was passed out of the sofa, having been tucked up nice and warm in a cozy blanket. He stopped to admire their perfect face, barely lit by the dim light of the television screen.

He found himself a seat in the kitchen to indulge in his lukewarm coffee as he waited for (Y/N) to awaken, so they could have a nice little chat.

~ ღ ~

When (Y/N) woke up, their apartment was dark and Kihyun was long gone. Brushing off the disappointment that came with no longer having his pleasant company, they sat up,

their stomach was screaming at them. The only food they’d eaten that night was the popcorn with Kihyun - they’d planned to cook a meal for the two of them, but exhaustion had won over them and they embarrassingly fell asleep in front of the movie before they even had the chance to offer.

Even if they regretted being an awful host to Kihyun, their hunger was a more pressing concern as they plodded into the kitchen to find something. Their mind was so occupied by their stomach in fact, they didn’t even notice Changkyun’s presence.

They found a packet of instant ramen shamefully hidden at the back of their cupboard, and were just about to heat up some water when a familiar chilling voice spoke up.

“Did you have a nice evening?”

They turned to finally notice Changkyun, leaning back in one of her chairs like he owned the place.

“Changkyun…? What are you doing in my kitchen?” (Y/N) rubbed at their eyes to make sure they weren’t dreaming.

“I thought it would be nice to pay you a little visit. It seems I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.”

He stood up and approached them, his aura more intimidating than they’d ever seen before.

“Who was he?” Changkyun snarled, his hand shooting out and gripping so tightly into (Y/N)’s neck that the nails were digging into their skin. “That son of a bitch you spent the entire evening with, leaving me out in the cold?”

“He’s just my colleague! Nothing more!” (Y/N) insisted, tears welling up in their eyes.

“Is that so?” (Y/N) was shoved onto a chair, with Changkyun standing over them. “Because I think some boundaries were overstepped. You don’t quite understand that you should belong to me, and me alone. You’ve severely betrayed my trust, and you should have to beg for my forgiveness.”

“What is wrong with you?”

“You’re going to phone them tomorrow and resign. Do you understand?” He breathed out, ignoring their scathing remark. “Your workplace doesn’t deserve a worker who will whore around with whoever pays them attention.”

He seated himself on their lap, his face getting dangerously close to them. It was then they felt cool steel pressing against their neck and realised he was brandishing one of their chef’s knives.

“You don’t need your job. You don’t need anyone else. You just need me.”

[libsterslobsters]

Whole Lotta Love

Synopsis: For some people, Valentine’s Day is another word for "stress", especially when you don't know what the other person is expecting. Several years into their relationship, Bucky’s pretty sure he has a good understanding of the Reader, until a word from Sam makes him question everything he thinks he knows. The race is on to make their first Valentine’s Day since saying their vows a special one, but as per usual, fate has it's own ideas about what will make the holiday truly memorable

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! Enhanced! Super-soldier Reader

(Reader can see bits and pieces of the future in visions as well as speak every language)

Warnings: Smut, Fluff

Author's note: This fic contains references to earlier stories. For more information, click the series masterlist link. As always, the reader is unnamed so that this can be read as a self-insert, but at this point, I think of her as an OC.

The song referenced is Hearts Don't Break Around Here by Ed Sheeran

Series Masterlist

A The Song Remains The Same Fic

---------‐-----------------------------------

“So, Valentine’s Day.”

Bucky doesn’t look up from his laptop (or more specifically, the field report he’s typing) at Sam’s words. Despite his concentration, he can tell that his partner is staring at him, boring holes into his back with his gaze.

“Uh-huh.” He’s listening, but so far, he doesn’t care.

“What are you doing for it?” For Valentine’s day? Um…

“Not much.” It’s a Tuesday this year, right? Then probably working, like most other people, he’d imagine.

The room is silent as he types, so Bucky assumes that settles the matter. That is, until Sam mutters a quiet, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“About what?” How many paragraphs does he have to type before he can pass this off as a full report? When he joined the Avengers, he thought the hardest part of his job would be the bad guy of the week, not doing paperwork!

“You’re really not doing anything for Valentine’s Day? Seriously?” He nods absentmindedly and clicks the save icon. He’ll finish this tomorrow. It’s five o’clock. Time to head home. Home to-

“What’s your wife gonna think about that?” He shrugs and cuts the power to the laptop.

“She thinks that the whole holiday is a rip-off. See you Monday?” He turns around for confirmation, only to catch Sam staring at him, mouth hanging wide open. “What?”

“A rip-off?” Is he just going to be stuck repeating himself?

“Yep.” Told him that the first February 14th they spent together.

“And you actually believed her?”

He nods. “She’s not one to lie.”

Sam nods incredulously. “Uh-huh. And are you planning to ever have sex again?”

He’s not going to dignify that with an answer (because really, isn’t it obvious?).

“Fine.” Sam shrugs. “You do you, man. All I’m saying is, if I had a wife who looked like that-” he indicates the lock screen of Bucky’s phone (a picture of her laughing, telling him to put away the damn camera after wrestling the dog for the tie to her favorite robe). “-I’d have my V-day plans set up a month in advance.”

Normally Bucky would take what Sam says with a grain of salt, but he is after all a man out of time, so maybe it’s worth considering that his partner may be right.

“What would you suggest I do?”

“Outside of the bedroom?” He narrows his eyes at the Falcon. “Okay, bad joke.” Sam scratches at the back of his head, thinking. “I don’t know, man. That’s your girl. You know her best, but flowers are always a good place to start.” Good to know that hasn’t changed since the 1940s. Although, last time he brought her flowers, she spent the afternoon sneezing until he eventually convinced her that it was okay, he wouldn’t be offended, she should throw the damn things out. Then again, that was before she was a super soldier.

“Flowers.” He repeats, earning a nod from Sam.

“You can get creative. Do a little research. But I’m just saying, when a woman waits five years for you to reappear, the least she deserves is a few flowers.” On that, they can agree.

He must bid Sam some sort of goodbye and make his way through the Avengers compound, but he’s unaware of anything until he’s in the parking lot, sitting behind the wheel of his car, googling “What to do for your wife on Valentine’s Day.” There’s a web page that boasts twenty different selections. Might as well give it a look.

___________________________________________________________________________________

She’s nearly home when her phone dings with a text from Barnes. “Just got in. Forgot to get milk. Can you swing by on your way, or should I go to the gas station and pick up a gallon?” A frown forms on her face. It’s pretty rare that Bucky forgets things. Must’ve been a hell of a day at work, then. Either that, or his brain has completely turned to mush thanks to typing out field reports. Either way-

“I got it. See you in twenty.” She thinks about tacking on a “love you”, but the light turns green before she can.

The grocery store is packed thanks to so many people getting off work. There’s only three carts left, all with bad wheels. She chooses the least squeaky option and, grabbing an add on her way, heads into the grocery store. Milk, and if she remembers right from this morning, they’re running dangerously low on coffee and tea. Despite caffeine having absolutely no effect on their enhanced bodies, both of them are nightmares to be around in the mornings without their beverages of choice. Force of habit and all.

She’s halfway to the checkout when she sees it. A sign, decorated in garish shades of red, pink, and purple. “All Valentine’s Day chocolates 10% off.” Shit. Yeah, that is coming up. To tell the truth, she’d completely forgot all about that day halfway through February. For most of her life, it only meant giving homemade cards at school when most kids had store-bought. Then, once she reached adulthood, it was a reminder that she was destined to be alone. Who would want someone who’s on the run, and what’s more, sees the future? Once she and Barnes got together, it didn’t change much. That first Valentine’s Day, he mentioned the holiday, and she shut it down immediately. They were both broke (or at least, he had no legitimate way of making money while she was broke), and celebrating a mostly commercial holiday seemed like a waste. Plus, she didn’t want to put a strain on a new relationship. Over the years, the subject never came up again, and she’s content for it to stay a non-starter, thank you very much. In her opinion, you should show your partner you love them every day of the year, not shoe-horn it into one twenty-four hour period. Call her unromantic if you must.

She’s completely immune to the various displays of cheap chocolate in heart-shaped boxes and overly sentimental cards as she approaches the register and starts to unload her items. Milk. Tea. That one specific brand of coffee that he likes because, “It tastes like what we drank in basic training. Terrible, but I kinda got used to it, so now everything else tastes like it’s trying too hard.” whatever that means. He’s right; she’s tasted it, and it’s fucking awful. Still, every morning, he drinks at least three cups while she drains her pot of tea.

“You got a hot date for Valentine’s Day, hun?” The cashier asks her, never breaking her rhythm as she rings up the items.

She chuckles. “As a matter of fact, yes.” The cashier’s eye go wide, and she holds up her left hand. “And every other day.”

“Ooh, nice. How long have you been together?”

“Nine years.” Wait… “Or four years, depending on which of us you ask. He blipped, I stayed.”

The cashier nods. “So are you older than him now?”

Physically? They’re not completely sure, but if you calculate the times he was off the ice with HYDRA and add that to the age he was before the serum, then they’re not far off. But chronologically- “No, he’s still older.” And yes, it will always be funny that Sam responds with “Okay, boomer” whenever Bucky makes an outdated reference (even if he’s off by a good twenty years).

With a little more light chatter, she pays for her items and leaves. Now, for home.

As soon as she opens the front door, she’s greeted by their dog, Sarge, barking excitedly and hopping around like he’s on a trampoline despite missing a leg. Bucky’s not far behind, placing a quick peck on her forehead before taking the bags from her and unloading them in the kitchen. Tonight’s his night to cook, but unless her nose has suddenly decided to give out, he hasn’t started dinner yet. She doesn’t mind taking over tonight, and when he sheepishly apologizes while she begins her preparations, she brushes it off. Although, for the second time in an hour, she’s seen proof of his unusual absentmindedness. Oh well. She’ll ask him about it later.

Despite being relieved from tonight’s chef duties, Bucky stays in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar scrolling through his phone as she cooks. His expression is neutral, which can mean one of two things; a) he’s just killing time and there aren’t any interesting posts or articles vying for his attention, or at the opposite end of the spectrum, b) he’s deep in thought, possibly angry, sad, or even frightened, but he’s gone into Winter Soldier mode and shut down so that she won’t pick up on his mood. Damn the man and his poker face.

Eventually dinner is served and she sends him off toward the fridge in search of two beers while she serves their plates. Just as she’s spooning a generous helping of salad into her bowl, it happens. A vision, but a limited one. All she’s seeing is a phone. Well, that and the hand holding it. She’s not sure whether to be proud or embarrassed that she immediately recognizes the hand as Bucky’s, but that goes by the wayside as she takes in the article he’s reading. “Should you do something for Valentine’s Day even is she says no?” It’s a thread on some anonymous discussion board. The reply that has his attention is in reference to a now divorced individual who “was dumb enough to believe that, on our first V-Day as a married couple, she didn’t want anything.” Oh boy. Not good. This will be their first Valentine’s Day since exchanging vows, and if the fact that he’s read this reply (if not already read, will read soon) means that it’s at least crossed his radar that she might be feeding him bullshit. That’s not the case, but after his research, she knows from experience that no matter how much she tries to convince him otherwise, a small part of his mind will be stuck on, “But what if this is a big deal?” Which means-

“Doll, are you just gonna stand there with the salad tongs in your hand?” That snaps her out of it.

“No. Just a vision.” He frowns as she passes him his plate.

“Anything important happen?” Should she say?

“No.” She’s not sure if the smile or not, so she takes a bite from her roll to cover it. “Random sneak peek.” It’s not a lie. What she saw really isn’t important. Still, if he’s in that mindset, she should probably go on and do something for him just in case. After all, why should it only be the ladies who reap this holiday’s benefits?

___________________________________________________________________________________

Not flowers. That’s the one thing that, after copious amounts of research Bucky is one hundred percent certain about. They may still be a common romantic gift, but since they were also a go-to back when he was courting girls in the 1940s, it’s safe to say they’ve been overdone. Plus, he doesn’t really want to remind her of that time she had such a severe allergic reaction to the flowers he picked her on a walk through the park in Bucharest that her eyes nearly swelled shut and she sneezed herself sick. That doesn’t exactly seem like prime romance.

Chocolates or other candies have the same issues as flowers. Contrived and predictable. A bottle of wine is nice, but neither of them can so much as get mildly tipsy thanks to the super serum. The fourteenth is his day to cook, so he guesses he could do some reading and try to create something a little more special than spaghetti (he thought about going to a nice restaurant for dinner, but there’s a few issues with that, not the least of which is they’re likely to be recognized without their disguises, and he’d rather not look at his wife through sunglasses on Valentine’s day), but that seems a little underwhelming.

As he loads the dishwasher (she fell asleep half-way through the third episode of whichever nonsensical comedy they’re watching this week, so he sneaked back downstairs to clean up the dinner dishes), he thinks back to the dozen separate articles he read on the subject of Valentine’s Day gifts. Jewelry was a common theme, but that’s out. She’ll say thank you to his face, but worry about the cost behind his back. Plus, he has absolutely no idea what she’d like, and there’s no sense in purchasing something only for her to hate it.

Another common one was lingerie. Bucky almost choked on his tongue when he saw some of the examples given with that option. None of it looked comfortable (in fact, he’s still scratching his head about how you even put on one of the pieces that popped up on the web page) and he doesn’t want to give her the impression that she has to dress up for him. Even putting all that aside, he has no idea what size she’d even wear. He likes to think that he knows his wife pretty well, but somehow, in all their years together, it never occurred to him to ask her for her clothing sizes. That, and have you even seen the bra sizing system? Does it make sense to anyone, because to Bucky, it’s all gibberish. 32 B? 36 DD? What the hell? Somehow, when HYDRA was training him to extract information, they failed to go over the translation of a woman’s bra size. He supposes he could ask, but he’s not sure there’s a non-suspicious way to work, “Hey, sweetheart. What size are your breasts?” into casual conversation.

Sam said to get creative, so he tried to think outside the box. What’s something she really needs? A new vacuum cleaner is the first thing to come to mind, but he’s not stupid enough to think that would make a good gift. He knows she’s had her eye on a set of throwing stars, but that doesn’t seem to correlate well with what this holiday is all about. That’ll keep until her birthday.

He’s still wracking his brain for anything at all that might work when he feels a wet nose poking at his hand. Sarge. “Hey, boy. Has your mom gone to bed?” The response is a quiet “woof” and lick to his palm. He scratches the mutt behind the ears, smiling to himself as Sarge’s back leg thumps at the treatment.

“What do you think we should get our girl? Huh?” There’s no reply (of course not, he’s talking to a dog), but he nods, pretending all the same that Sarge has offered up a suggestion. “A bone. Yeah, somehow I don’t think that’s her thing. Try again.” The dog blinks at him lazily. “No, you’re the one who wants new tennis balls. Not Mom. Although you’re right about her liking peanut butter.” At this rate, he might as well get her a bone and some tennis balls, because he’s sure not coming up with any ideas.

She likes music. The thought pops into his head while he’s brushing his teeth. All sorts of music. Over the years, he’s tried to make sense of the songs he’s heard her listen to, but has yet to find a discernible pattern in her listening habits. She doesn’t seem to stick to just one genre or era. More like she picks songs by how they relate to what she’s feeling at the moment. Wait a second-

“A mixtape.” His reflection mouths the words back at him. Despite technology having moved on from the days of burning CDs, she still has a thick stack of the disks stored in a cabinet and plays them on the regular. He’s even seen a few that she made herself, pasting together the songs she likes to make a “Cleaning mix”, “Workout Mix” and “Pissed off Mix”. Bucky’s sure he could figure out how to burn a CD, but it’s not like she’d be able to listen to that everywhere she went. That leaves a playlist. She uses one of those apps to listen to music on her phone, right? Surely he can put something together for her using that.

Quietly, he climbs into bed next to his sleeping wife and pulls her back against his chest, slinging one arm over her waist as usual. He closes his eyes, but his mind is alight with activity. A playlist. Of course. He’ll put some extra effort into whatever he cooks that night, stop by a bakery and pick up some sweet treats for dessert. Hell, maybe they’ll both dress up and act like they’re on a date. Then, once they’re sitting down to their meal, he’ll pull out his phone and hit play. It’s perfect. At least, he hopes it is.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Putting on a lacy bra and panties set underneath her regular work attire seemed like a brilliant idea this morning. Today’s a short day; she’s only got three classes to teach, and Rhodey called last night to tell Bucky that he’s suspending work hours at three pm “Since most people have holiday preparations to make.” Her plan was to be waiting on the sofa in the living room when he arrives home, professional button-down blouse open just enough for him to get a good look at what’s underneath, pencil skirt pushed up enough to reveal the stockings and garters she’s donned for the occasion. It’s fun, with just enough cheesiness to match this whole holiday. And, well, it’s a guarantee that by the end of the night they’ll be in bed together, both rumpled, sweaty, and satisfied. Perfect, right?

Wrong. On her drive to work, her skimpy underwear began to ride up, giving her a wedgie, and there was no way to adjust without running the risk of wrecking. She was so distracted by her discomfort that she missed her exit, and by the time she arrived at the college, she was running so behind that she didn’t get the chance to run to the bathroom and readjust. Her lecture on sentence diagrams was pure torture before the underwire from her bra decided to join in the fun and poke her directly in the ribs, but with that addition, she was especially impatient with her students’ tendency to joke around a little too much in class.

Luckily, she had just enough time to wrap the exposed metal bit in tissues before her next class, which eliminated the pain in her chest, but did nothing to alleviate the discomfort once her stockings began to slide down, having at some point disconnected themselves from the garters. She taught like that for the next two classes, but as soon as they were over, she pealed the whole ensemble off in the teacher’s restroom and changed into her gym clothes. Alright, screw the whole seduction routine. She needs to blow off some steam and fast, or else she’ll be in a bad mood all night.

That’s why, thirty minutes later, she finds herself in the training room of the Avengers compound, working over a punching bag. “Fuck-” Her fist connects, making the bag swing crazily from it’s hook. “-this- whole- day!” It goes sailing, and she feels a little better.

“Ouch!” The voice comes from behind her and she whirls around, gaze resting on-

“Sam.” The man in question holds up his hands in an “I surrender” gesture.

“Don’t shoot! I come in peace.” Rolling her eyes, she holds up her middle finger, receiving a snicker in acknowledgment.

“Just working off a little frustration before I head home.”

“Good.” Sam chuckles. “’cause otherwise, I’d be worried that when Barnes pulls out his dick tonight, you’ll bite it off.” She thinks about telling him that there’s no chance of that, but she might just cut off his if he crosses her. However, that jogs her memory.

“Has he left yet?” Sam nods.

“About an hour ago. Said he had to pick up groceries.” Shit. There goes her plan to shower, throw the damn lingerie back on and proceed as planned.

Bidding Sam a hasty reply, she makes tracks towards her car and, once inside, heads for home. Fine. New plan. She’ll shower once she arrives and then when the evening is drawing to a close, wait for him in bed. Nodding to herself, she puts the car in park and climbs out. Now, to psych herself up enough in the next few hours to put the damn lingerie back on.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Where did he go wrong? It takes all of Bucky’s self control not to spit out the spoonful of sauce he just tasted. This was supposed to be an easy recipe for Chicken Alfredo (or at least, that’s what the website boasted; he should’ve known better than to get his information from the internet and stuck to a good old-fashioned cookbook from the library). Not… whatever the hell this is. Maybe even if the sauce is nauseating, the chicken is okay?

He pulls open the oven door, and immediately smoke billows out, making his eyes water. Okay, chicken’s a little well-done. Who is he kidding? Black. The chicken is burned black. And the pasta… he lifts the pot lid and stirs, only to come to the realization that the pasta is completely stuck to the bottom of the pot. Wonderful.

It’s inevitable; over the years, he’s had his fair share of cooking disasters, but usually he does okay. Tonight though… who the hell up there did he piss off, because the only explanation for how badly this is going is his karma coming due.

Still holding the offending spoon, he looks over at Sarge, who’s staring at him, long pink tongue sticking out as he pants. “Trust me, boy. You don’t want any of this.” There has to be something else he can pull together on short notice. Normally he’d be worried that she’s running late without so much as a text, but today he’s relieved. At least if she’s running behind he’ll have time to… what? Maybe order takeout? Before she gets-

“I’m home.” Shit.

Sarge yips, shaking with excitement, and starts towards the kitchen door, then turns back, uncertain. “Go on. I know you’re dying to jump on her and lick her face.” Something they really should be training out of him because he’s getting too big for that sort of behaviour but, well… there’s a reason they call them “puppy dog eyes.”

Not needing to be coaxed, the dog takes off, tripping a little in the momentary lapse in his memory that he’s a tripod, but easily catches himself and goes on his merry way, leaving Bucky to clean up his mess. From the sound of things, a game of fetch is going on in the living room, so she should be distracted for a while.

He manages to pour the sauce down the drain and scrape most of the pasta into the trash while Sarge is acting as a decoy, but there’s absolutely no way he can dispose of the chicken without tipping her off (damn enhanced senses, it’s a wonder she hasn’t already smelled it). Finally, he decides to just go for it. She’s going to notice whether he throws it out now or two hours from now. Might as well get a head start on cleaning.

Sure enough, not ten seconds after he empties out the oven, he catches a movement in his peripheral vision, and the familiar sound of her breathing tips him off that he’s no longer alone.

“Hey, Doll.”

“Hey, Bucky. Did something burn in here, or-” He holds up the pan for her inspection before continuing his scraping.

“That’s one way to put it, yeah.” He slams the lid back on the trashcan and turns on the tap, intent on rinsing out the pan. “Another is whoever the god of culinary arts is has it in for me today.”

She chuckles. “You know, that would be funnier if we didn’t actually know a god.”

“Yeah, but he’s in control of thunder.” He meets her eyes, smirking slightly. “Although it did look like I electrocuted the bird.” Her lips quirk up into a smile, and he takes the opportunity to kiss her, cupping the back of her head gently to hold her in place when she tries to move away, muttering something about being sweaty.

He’s not entirely sure how it happened, but by the time they come up for air, her back his pressed against the wall and he’s got her pinned in place. Not that he’s complaining.

“Anyone ever tell you that the tip of your nose turns pink after you’ve been kissed?’ Her cheeks go rosey in response.

“I think so. One guy did. I told him it’s only when I’m kissed properly.”

He really would like to continue the playful banter, but there’s still the small matter of whatever it is they’re going to eat.

“What do you feel like for dinner tonight?”

“Apart from electrocuted chicken?” He responds with a swat to her ass, which earns him a snicker. “Let’s keep it simple. Pizza. Your choice of toppings.” Right, that’s easy enough. Plus, if they have to wait longer than thirty minutes, it’s free.

“Okay. I’ll order while you shower?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He’s just pulled up the menu on his phone when the sound of her clearing her throat attracts his attention. She’s standing in the doorway, combing through her freshly let down hair with her fingers, a playful look in her eyes.

“Or you could join me. Just a mild suggestion.”

Dinner can wait for a while.

___________________________________________________________________________________

The Brooklyn townhouse they live in has many nice features. There’s a functional if small screened in back porch, big enough to hold a table for two and a grill. Two bedrooms, on the off chance someone from work needs to crash for a night or two. A kitchen with a dishwasher. A working fireplace. Good closet space. And an en suite bathroom.

Maybe it’s a little ridiculous to call a bathroom luxurious, especially when, in comparison to what’s featured in many brownstones, it’s more than modest, but she can’t help but think of it as such. There’s a double sink so that in the morning rush to get ready, Bucky’s able to shave and brush his teeth without having to wait for her to finish applying her makeup. Shelving above the toilet makes certain that even if the last person to shower took the towel with them, another one is on hand. Speaking of the shower, it’s not the largest one in the world, but both of them can fit in comfortably at the same time, which is what’s lead to their current situation.

She’s just finished allowing the water to course over her body, easing the sweat from her skin, and is about to begin the process of washing her hair, scrubbing her body, but she hesitates. She might as well ask. It’s only practical after all.

“Do you want to start now or get cleaned up and have dinner beforehand?” It’s obvious what she’s referring to, so she doesn’t bother to spell it out.

His brown knits, and if she didn’t know him as… intimately… as she does, she’d actually believe he’s confused.

“Oh, so you’re just assuming there’s gonna be sex involved at some point tonight?”

She shrugs, wringing out her hair.

“Seemed like a safe enough bet.” She glances pointedly between the two of them. “After all, we’re already undressed. “

His laugh is a quiet huff, barely discernible over the sound of the water. “Then I’d say start now, have dinner, then go for round two. Sound about right to you?”

She nods. “Solid plan.”

“Then get over here.”

Unlike the welcome home kiss they shared not half an hour ago, this one is less tender, more electric. Hands twist in hair, bodies press together. Tongues begging for entrance quickly give way to teeth nipping at bottom lips, an unspoken sparring match for who’ll be in control this time around. Ultimately he wins, grasping her hips and lifting as she wraps her legs securely around his back.

There’s no need for prep; the teasing of their earlier words is foreplay enough. Back pressed against the wall, her body easily welcomes him in as she braces one arm against the glass shower doors for balance. Any concerns about slipping and falling wash away as they move together like so many times before. She’s sure her nails will leave marks on his back, fingertips digging in for purchase and it’s a guarantee her hips will be littered with fingerprints from his grip, but she can’t find it in her to care, and if the desperate, bruising kiss assaulting her lips is anything to judge from, neither can he.

“So damn good, Doll.” It’s panted against her neck. “Always. So damn perfect for me.” All she can manage is a moan in response.

She feels him twitch inside of her and knows he’s close. So is she, but she can’t quite get there without-

As if he’s read her mind, he reaches between them to touch her where she needs it most, and on instinct, she readjusts, locking her arm around his neck to stay in place. “Let go, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” She couldn’t disobey if she wanted to.

“Fuck.” As her walls contract around him, he pulls out just in time to paint her middle with his release.

“That’s one word for it.” She’s still fighting to catch her breath, but she shoots him a shaky smirk, which he returns.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mrs. Barnes.” Snickering, she releases him to stand on unsteady legs and pecks his legs.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mr. Barnes.” Maybe there’s something to this holiday after all.

___________________________________________________________________________________

“You want the last slice?” Bucky considers it for a moment before deciding-

“Nah. You can have it.” It may not be exactly what he planned, but it’s been a good night. Between the two of them, they’ve gone through two large pizzas while watching the new version of Beauty and the Beast (she rolled her eyes when he asked if this was her way of saying he reminds her of a certain hairy, horned character) in their pajamas.

“No, really. You take it. I don’t want it.” She nudges the mostly-empty pizza box towards him. The noise makes Sarge lift his head from where he was snoozing beside her on the sofa. That gives him an idea.

“I don’t want it either, but I can think of someone who does.” He cocks his head towards the now-drooling dog. “How ‘bout it, boy? Wanna help us out?”

Snickering, she picks the pepperonis and pieces of sausage and ham from the pizza, forming a pile. “Here, Sarge. Catch.” She tosses a coveted treat in the air, and Sarge’s jaw snaps, swallowing it whole. “Good boy.”

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before she speaks again.

“You know, I actually did have something planned for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” She nods.

“Absolutely. Had a whole seduction plan laid out. Tiny underwear, lacy bra, and stockings with garters included.” Huh. Guess she wouldn’t have taken the “lingerie” option the wrong way. He’ll file that away for future use… along with a mental note to ask her bra size. “That is, until I tried wearing the damn things for longer than an hour. Turns out, hiding a dirty secret under your clothes is more itchy than sexy.”

He can’t help it. He laughs, producing a pout from her which quickly turns into her own quiet laughter.

“Well, that fits in perfectly with my fancy dinner going up in smoke.”

“We really do have shitty luck with the whole “romance” thing.” She’s joking, but he decides to respond anyway.

“I don’t know about that.” Entwining his fingers with hers, he lifts their hands, twin wedding bands catching the light. “You waited five years for me to reappear after the blip, and I convinced you to elope with me. Seems pretty romantic.” Although, that reminds him…

“Don’t move.” Releasing her hand, he stands and goes in search of his phone.

“Bucky, what-”

“Don’t move, Doll. Stay right where you are.” Ah. On the kitchen counter, just where he left it. Jogging back into the room, he resumes his place on the couch next to her. Ignoring her questioning gaze, he pulls up the app and, selecting the correct playlist, hits play.

Immediate recognition blooms on her face at the opening lyrics. “She is the sweetest thing that I know. Should see the way she holds me when the lights go low.” He’s not one for modern music, but when he was googling “songs for Valentine’s Day” and this one popped up, he couldn’t help but think that the lyrics were fitting.

“I didn’t know you’d heard this one.”

He chuckles. “Even old men have a few tricks up their sleeves. That, and a wifi connection.” She rolls her eyes but leans closer, which he takes advantage of to show her the playlist.

“This is the app you use, right?” Receiving a nod, he continues. “Feel free to scroll through and add whatever you want. I haven’t listened to all of them the whole way through, but they seemed to fit the mood.”

Her hand closes over his, covering the phone. “Thank you, Bucky. It’s perfect.”

As the singer goes on about how hearts don’t break around here, he presses his lips against hers.

“I love you, Doll.”

“Love you.”

Not bad for a disastrous Valentine’s Day. Not bad at all.

[boop-le-snoot]

skin starving

tony stark x f!reader fluff. no warnings, just a few f-bombs. touch starved tony’s third person pov. words: 2,5k. no beta because i just really needed to get this off my chest.

recommended music to go with the story: two feet - 'love is a bitch' & 'quick musical doodles'. Or any lo-fi hip-hop radio really.

It started as an itch. At first, a small but bothersome thing, that kept him up at night, steering the already unreasonable hours of wakefulness into dangerous territory. The cold of his bed was unappealing and more often than not, he’d started passing out on the flat surfaces nearest to him: workshop, lab, common room couch, the lazy boy in Bruce’s apartment.

The team noticed, of course, they weren’t blind. They all had been on edge the first few months after Pepper left him. They expected him to act out, lock himself up in his lab or go back to his old habits of boozing and bringing home a different girl every night. And he had tried that, once or twice, but airheaded twenty-somethings weren’t appealing anymore. Most of the time their ass kissing and blatantly flattery annoyed him further into self-loathing abyss. He simply couldn’t step up to be the kind of man they described him to be - it seemed as if every woman on planet Earth had a whole list of expectations he specifically could not meet.

With Thor off planet, not one remaining person on the team was particularly touchy-feely. And that was the thing with Tony Stark: as an engineer, as a mechanic, he made his way through the world hands-first, every approach he had was hands-on. During late nights and early mornings, he laid in bed, sleepless and dreamless, desperately refusing to admit his own touch starvation.

Whenever Rogers threw an arm around his shoulders during a particularly successful team bonding activity, it took every ounce of willpower Tony had to not lean into it and purr like a cat. He hadn’t truly forgiven Steve for his cold, cruel words of criticism shortly after Pepper’s departing. He wasn’t going to chummy up to a man who thought him selfish, opportunistic and self-absorbed.

Tony became irritable and withdrawn. He simultaneously craved and avoided even the casual, friendlier attention his teammates gave him on a daily basis. His usual snark became that much more biting, having caused several people to storm out of team meetings.

On a cold autumn morning, Tony had found his way at the tower’s Starbucks on the employee floor. He had squeezed a generous five hours of restless sleep and he was sick of the plain black coffee in his kitchen. A spontaneous desire for something sweet and creamy and caffeinated led him to the place in line at the cafeteria, only a few early birds ahead of him.

Tony’s brain was hazy as it had been past few weeks, dull from the lack of rest and the hyperfixation of his own skin feeling alien to him. For once, he wasn’t typing away on his StarkPhone as he usually did to avoid being bothered; Tony stared straight ahead, unseeing, nothing but white noise in his usually racing brain.

Two women stood in front of him and he couldn’t help but overhear a part of their conversation.

“… Are you really horny or just lonely or touch-starved, though? I mean, Tinder? It’s not really your style.”

“Eh, I dunno. Probably the second but it’s not like men go on Tinder to find a cuddle buddy.”

“Well, maybe? I’ve heard about arrangements like that.”

“No offense, babe, but it’s probably kids in their early twenties. Those gen-z’s, babe, are weird. I’m not really up to date on all of that.”

The topic of the conversation was what piqued Tony’s interest; the world liked rubbing salt into his wounds and hysterically laugh at his misfortune. Bleary-eyed, he briefly scanned the two women: both appeared to be interns or junior techs in his company, evident by the purple employee badges hanging from their bags.

“So what are you going to do?” One woman asked the other as their turn to order took Tony one step closer to obtaining his desired caffeine.

“Unless someone normal magically appears with an offer of no-strings-attached, good ole’ snuggle fest, I guess I’m getting dicked down on Saturday,” The other replied with a teasing tone. The lack of excitement in the last part of the sentence was obvious.

“Gross,” The first one shook her head and hurriedly rattled off her order to the barista who looked about as disgruntled as Tony felt.

Hours and three coffees later, Tony’s overactive brain was still stuck on that woman from the cafeteria. Her back, her purse stuffed full of colorful manila folders, her neatly gathered hair - Tony Stark had nearly perfect memory and he remembered every single detail despite his brain fog. Objectively, she was attractive, no more no less than a different dozen of women he’d seen at any point in his life before. So why was he hung up on her?

It didn’t take him a long time to find her file, faster than he’d liked to admit. Manually sorting through hundreds of interns, lab technicians and various second-tier employees wasn’t exactly considered productive but with Pepper and her nagging out of the picture, Tony could afford to slack off a little bit.

So he found her name and her e-mail address, skimmed over her performance report with satisfaction, finding her to be a busy bee in the 90-th percentile. Her superiors considered her trustworthy, hard-working and communicative, all good traits.

Pepper’s absence meant he’d have no one to cover his ass should he get slapped with a harassment suit; however, he was the Tony Stark after all. He had more money that he’d cared to count and an army of lawyers at his disposal 24/7.

Amidst the jumbled mess of wires, circuit boards, tablets, empty coffee cups and the occasional piece of paper, Tony typed up an e-mail to the woman sharing his… Condition.

“I heard you and your friend talking at Starbucks. I could use a cuddle buddy. Wine and Netflix at my place? What’s your takeout preference?”

No. That came off way too creepy, like he was some kind of a dirty eavesdropper.

He contemplated some more, typing up and erasing multiple e-mails with various proposals: his penthouse, her place, a three Michelin star restaurant, a walk in the park. Almost all of it screamed ‘date’, like he’d drag her off to bed the very moment an opportunity wouldn’t present itself. It wasn’t so: Tony Stark, the playboy genius, had his dick firmly tucked into his pants. The thought of fucking her crossed his mind only briefly, quickly being chased away by the thought of her fingers running through his hair. Her warm, soft body in his arms. Just laying on his couch, eyes closed, reveling in each other’s arms.

Tony hit send on the least obnoxious option. He baited his breath, clicking his fingers in anticipation as the message showed itself to having been delivered.

“Mary, is this you trying to be funny? Stark is going to fire you if he finds out you’re impersonating him to stop your friend from going on a questionable date. Grow up.” Came the very prompt reply, ending with a short string of angry emojis. Tony could totally trust a person who used emojis unironically and generously.

“For the record, I wouldn’t be mad if somebody pretended to be me for the sake of saving their cute friend from a creep. The problem would be making it look credible.” Tony typed up the answer without thinking, quickly snapping a picture of himself holding the Starbucks cup with his name written on it, throwing his usual sloppy peace sign. He attached it to the email and hit send.

“WTF” Came the reply not a minute afterwards. He let it sink in, giving the woman some time to gather her wits. She did not disappoint. “Okay, even if we pretend this is real - which I doubt - what’s in it for you? If you heard our conversation, you surely know my stance on the matter.”

“I’m always glad to prove you wrong. I’m a genius - comes with the territory.” Tony simply couldn’t resist adding a generous dose of snark. “You’re welcome to meet me after clocking out. Use the private elevator, my AI will beam you up.”

The reply took a considerably long amount of time, seeing as previously, she typed back rather quickly. “Please don’t be a creepy rapist, Scotty. Fingers crossed.” Tony managed to almost break his stylus twice. His hands shook, and he had to tell himself to breathe - still, he laughed at the clever way she replied.

Several more hours later, during which Tony had nearly paced a hole through various floors on the residential side of the tower, he took a quick shower, dressed in a flattering but comfortable designer sweatpants and polo combo and made himself at home on the obscenely large living room sofa on his own, private penthouse floor.

He was up and running towards the elevator when Friday’s voice notified him of the woman entering the elevator on the employee floor. Tony tousled his hair, adjusted his glasses, fiddled with the drawstring of his pants.

The woman was wearing casual office wear, pants and a loose blouse, a lab coat loosely draped over her arm and her purse hanging off the shoulder on a thin strap. Her hair was loose now, a little frizzy as if she continuously ran her hands through it. Tony quietly rejoiced at not being the only nervous one.

Clever eyes scanned the room with unhurried interest before finally landing on him. “Not too shabby, if I say so myself,” The corners of her mouth tilted in an attempt at a smile, it was obvious she was studying him.

“Thanks, I try my best,” Tony smirked. Humble he was not. “So, how do you want to do this?”

“I see a comfortable couch,” She looked to be grateful for being given the opportunity to lead this interaction. “Let’s park our behinds on it, bicker for ten minutes about a movie choice and settle on one none of us really like. Then we can tell each other our no-no zones and, well, yeah,” She started out confidently. Probably practiced in the elevator. But towards the end, her shyness took over.

For Tony, it was kind of cute. A nice change from suck-ups that flocked him at every social gathering in hopes of getting something out of him. The woman that had tossed her bag carelessly on the far end of the couch and untucked her blouse looked and felt like the exact opposite of those people. She looked willing to give.

Tony sat next to her, keeping a couple of inches of free space between them. “Food preferences? Food allergies?” He asked, tapping the food delivery application.

“Nope, and I will eat just about anything.” He felt more than saw her side-eyeing him. Both of them were jittery. So uncharacteristic for Tony, to be blushing and stammering like a high school boy. Sex was easy, but intimacy? Complex. It was addictive and eventually, painful.

Movie decisions were surprisingly easy and she said so. They settled on a Tarantino classic, an old flick neither of them had watched in a long time. As the discussion progressed, Tony used his wits to find out more about her without making it seem like an interrogation. He had run a background check on the woman and her family but those only went that far, besides, it was a great opportunity to practice the tips Natasha had shared with him at one point or another. Being friends with spies had it’s perks.

They ate their food until their bellies were full. A comfortable, relaxing stupor, being warm from the inside out.

Tony noticed when the woman spoke, she spoke with her hands. She had caught herself grasping his forearm multiple times when they’d got more passionate about their discussion. And what Tony loved the most was that she refused to apologize. He saw a kindred soul in the woman; quiet until something struck her fancy. Then, she became a whirlwind of ideas and opinions.

In no time, it became a natural action to extend his arm and wrap it around her shoulders, reclining backwards. There was little grace in laying belly-up like a dead fish but the woman didn’t seem to mind. Watching him out of the corner of her eye, she laid down sideways, throwing a leg over one of his own.

Her palm traced the outline of his arc reactor when something on the screen caught her in a moment of intense interest. Tony preferred to avoid the cursed thing - scars around it definitely did not do any favour to his aging, marked body - but he found himself exhaling the tension when it was obvious the woman really did not care. An occasional quiet hum of satisfaction was the only noise that came from her: he noticed the sound escaped her lips every time his thumb began fiddling with the sleeve of her blouse and rubbed against her arm.

He was quite content. It was warm, he was surrounded by so much warmth.

The hug was mutual when she left home, both of them comfortable with the gesture for people who had met in a rather unconventional way.

She started coming over a couple of times a week, a quiet evening of the best takeout in NYC and (mostly) interesting movies. A solace, always a single e-mail away.

Tony saw her in the cafeteria once or twice; he appreciated the brief, tiny secretive grin she gave him out of her friend’s eyesight. She never approached him. He was grateful for that. He didn’t want to deal with all the drama and all the fuss surrounding incidents between him and his employees. It was nobody’s business what any of them did after clocking out - and him and his cuddle buddy, they weren’t even fucking, for Thor’s sake.

Maybe they would get there someday. Or maybe they won’t. It was only now for Tony. The rare free Saturday night he had, he truly took a vacation from all the bullshit and lured her in with promises of very expensive wine, her favourite New York style pizza and the willingness to entertain watching a few of those funny YouTube videos she liked.

They did watch them and Tony didn’t mind. He stepped over the irrational fear and the initial discomfort and curled up around her, hiding his face in the soft cotton of her worn hoodie, his own breath tickling his face in warm puffs. The hand running through his hair was tender like it never was with Pepper - his ex was far too preoccupied to baby her grown-up boyfriend. But the woman moulded to his body like an extension of himself was happy to do so. Tony’s hair was longer now and it glided perfectly along the woman’s palms.

His heart was steady, thumping in his ears, overshadowing the noises coming from the TV. He exhaled and felt her other hand begin tracing circles on his back, as if she saw the stress and the bitterness leave his body with every caress, every brush of their bodies. Maybe she did?

He held onto her, held her back like she’d held him. Safekeeping the warmth inside of him. Guarding his peace.

[puddygeeks]

𝑾𝒂𝒓 𝑶𝒇 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔 - 𝑪𝒓𝒊𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒔, 𝑺𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒓 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒅 𝒙 𝑶𝑪 - 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 8: 𝑮𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒏 ���𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒚

Masterlist

Rating: Mature

Summary: 𝐴𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑜𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠. 𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑝𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐵𝐴𝑈 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑦, 𝑚𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡.

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x OC

Status: Ongoing

LONG TERM ONGOING PROJECT :)

My writing is entirely fuelled by coffee! If you enjoy my work, feel free to donate toward my caffeine dependency: will work for coffee

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑑𝑢𝑙𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡, 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑤. 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑐𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑐𝑎𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑢𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑟, 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑 𝑎𝑏𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 & 𝑠𝑒𝑥𝑢𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑏𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐵𝐴𝑈'𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘. 𝐼𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑦 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑢𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑏𝑙𝑒, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑑, 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤.

Eᴘɪsᴏᴅᴇ: Pʀᴇ Sᴇᴀsᴏɴ 1

Chapter Eight

“You know, it’s remarkably similar to Brighton Pier here.” I commented, fanning myself in desperation under the scolding sun and Ricky pushed his large sunglasses down to allow me to feel the full force of his judgement. “Well, except that it’s unmistakably hotter, obviously.”

“How dare you compare this beautiful sandy bliss to your pebble filled nightmare?” He remarked with a sweeping hand gesture at the beach, before sipping out of his straw with offence and I rolled my eyes at him.

Ricky has always been a force to be reckoned with, but as he got older, he only grew more confident and I was constantly inspired by how comfortable he was in himself. His thick brunette hair reached his collarbones now, but he currently had it pushed back out of his face with a colourful bandana so that he could tan. In order for him to worship the sun to his full capacity, he was wearing a worryingly small pair of shorts and had stretched himself across a lounger like the diva that he absolutely was.

“Hmm. Your actual beach is better, I’ll give you that one. But you’re seriously lacking on drag queens, quirky cafes and fancy boutiques to shop in.” I pointed out, fondly recalling the whirlwind weekend that we’d spent in the British city the last time that he’d visited me and he shrugged in defeat.

“Touché. You win this round.” He admitted, laying back to bask himself again, whilst I shuffled my sensitive skin further under the sun umbrella that he’d reluctantly agreed to allow me to bring over on the condition that it didn’t cause a single shred of shade over him.

It was a beautiful day, only improved by the quality of my company and I had to admit that I was endlessly pleased to have decided to extend my stay for another few days. Despite the years that had passed since we had last been in each other's physical company, Ricky was still able to put me at ease in a way that no one else had ever been able to emulate and I cherished the opportunity to simply relax with him at the Virginia Boardwalk.

“So, what’s it like being an FBI agent?” Ricky asked, turning his attention back to me with a smug expression. “Is it wonderful knowing that you have the power to stop anyone in their tracks? I would absolutely abuse my power for evil, but I know you’re too pure for that.” He muttered with delight and I chuckled at him knowingly. The things that he would use an FBI badge to accomplish didn’t even bear thinking about.

“Darling. I already told you. I’m not an FBI agent. I’m still a technical analyst for Interpol. I’m just on loan.” I repeated, already losing count of how many times I had made this distinction, but he still seemed as unconvinced by this as he was the first time that I told him.

“Oh, semantics! Sounds to me like you’re working for them and considering that you saved a girl from a burning building like a freaking hero, I’m just going to treat you like one.” He argued, seeming amused as if I were simply downplaying things, when realistically, it was a case of him dramatising the arrangement, as he did with most things. “We have an FBI agent in the family. That’s pretty cool.”

“There is absolutely no reasoning with you.” I groaned, shaking my head in embarrassment and he shrugged dismissively, as if this were an obvious fact that I should have accepted already. “How’s university going? Have you sorted your accommodation for your second year yet?”

“College is going fine. I’ve done a fantastic job being the life of the party, so I have plenty of offers for people to live with. My only struggle is choosing people who aren’t completely filthy as housemates. I can’t live in a grubbly little student hovel.” He explained, seeming repulsed by the very idea and I raised a brow at his diva attitude. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not being dramatic. My first year in dorms, I shared a bathroom with straight men. You don’t understand the trauma that I’ve lived through.”

“Does your mother know that you haven’t arranged housing yet?” I interrogated, already sensing a hint of dishonesty in him and his features quickly contorted into a guilty look. “Rituparan! I understand being picky, but you’ll end up with no choice other than to live with the grimy jocks if you don’t hurry up. You need to get organised.” I scolded, earning an eye roll so severe that I worried his face might never recover from the strain.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Alley Cat. I’ll get it sorted. Now, drink your mocktail before it gets too diluted.” He ordered, sipping down the last of his drink and placing the little umbrella from the top in his hair with a flourish. The moment that he faced me, I knew that he had mischief in mind.

“Okay. Are you ready? Who am I?” He pouted so dramatically that his cheeks all but disappeared and I almost choked on my drink.

“Oh, too easy! That is the unforgettable Lola, the only woman on the planet who considers a cocktail umbrella the perfect hair accessory for any occasion.” I answered, earning a cheer and wicked laugh of satisfaction from him. “You know, I love having someone else to mock dad’s exes with. You’d think the fact that he only dates women my age would mean we’d have something in common, but alas, apparently a sense of humour isn’t shared by age group.”

“Of course they’re not funny! The only thing those girls come with is a price tag.” He sassed, flipping his hair back out of his face in a ridiculously bitchy gesture and I was immediately reminded of just how much I loved him. “At least you don’t have to pretend to like Tanya anymore. Honestly, if she had a second brain cell, she’d be dangerous.”

“Oh, no! They broke up?” I gasped, almost sounding convincing with my upset and he whipped his head around with drastic confusion. “I guess she had to bleed my dad dry of pocket money eventually.” I drawled, prompting a small yelp of surprise and a quick high five from Ricky.

Tanya had been dating my dad for just over six months now, so I knew that she was likely to be approaching her expiration date soon. His routine was well known amongst the entire family now and in an effort to counter the embarrassment that it caused for my mother and I, it had become a running joke for us all to share.

“Didn’t you hear the details?” Ricky crooned, turning to face me fully on his lounger with a devious expression and I shrugged nonchalantly. “According to Maji, she tried to charge her lip fillers to his business credit card. Caused all sorts of uproar at the office. I guess she’ll be making that duck face at someone else’s wallet now.” He divulged, pouting into an exaggerated model face for effect and I struggled not to splutter my drink everywhere in response.

Ricky’s mother always seemed to know everything that was happening in our family and I’d long believed that this was where he’d learned to dig information out of people. She was abnormally gifted in guilt tripping the truth out of even the most hardened family members and yet, she doted on Ricky as if he was the very thing that made her world turn. If I ever wanted to know what was going on in my dad’s life, I knew that I could rely on her to be up to date with events.

Before I could manage to recover enough to speak, my mobile rang with it’s sharp tone and I had to clamber around in my bag to find it. As soon as I saw the private number, my eyes grew wide in dread.

“Oh, no! The bat phone?” Ricky asked, seeming genuinely horrified that I might be called into work and I quickly nodded, before holding a finger to my lips to shush him.

“Agent Hawthorne.” I answered, feeling utterly ridiculous referring to myself this way in my current company. This insecurity was only made worse by Ricky sliding his shades back on in a judgemental manner and I gestured to him to stop distracting me.

“Alice. This is Hotch. Are you still in Virginia?”

The voice on the other end of the phone was as serious as ever and though I was enormously relieved to find that it wasn’t anyone from Interpol trying to order me home, I felt nerves building in my chest already.

“Yes, Sir. I am.” I reported, noticing Ricky raising his brows at me in interest and I knew that he was dying to know what was being said.

“I realise that you’re spending time with family, but would you be able to come into the office for a meeting? I have a matter that I would like to discuss with you in person, if possible.” Hotch requested, allowing me absolutely no hint of the cause for this meeting and I felt my face change into one of alarm.

My mind had already begun racing with all of the possible complications that I could be facing for my actions at the base now that all of the documentation for the case had been submitted and I was terrified that if any further charges were brought against me, they could contradict the deal that I made with Interpol to avoid imprisonment.

“Yes, Sir. I’ll come in right away.” I stuttered, attempting to fight down my terror. My hands shook with nerves as I hung up on the call and Ricky looked positively thrilled to have been given the opportunity to witness this conversation, as if he’d just been personally included in a matter of national security.

“It’s a good thing that you went for virgin cocktails, my dear. I have to get back to Quantico.” I confessed, quickly burying my nerves so that he wouldn’t sense trouble.

“Oh my god! This is so exciting!” He announced, hopping straight to his feet and flustering to grab his belongings that were spread across every surface around him. “One cab for Agent Hawthorne, coming right up!”

--⥈--

Outfit: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/460070918191621506/

Standing in the lift of the Quantico building, I was overwhelmed with anxiety. I had been in such a rush to get here that it hadn’t even crossed my mind to change clothes, or to do anything to prepare my appearance at all. Though I knew that I didn’t have any more office clothes with me anyway, I acknowledged that I could at least have found something that provided a little more coverage and didn’t leave me feeling so exposed.

The idea of walking through an office where everyone was dressed smartly, wearing a white floral mini dress was an absolute nightmare and I realised that I only had a few minutes to make any changes. All I could think to do was to untie my waist length hair, shaking it out to at least cover some of my arms and attempting to make it look styled.

The doors opened to reveal a full office, with most of the team present at their desks and I gulped nervously. My dress felt as if it had actually shrunk in size since the beach now that I would be seen in it by people that I had worked with and I had to remind myself that I had bigger things to worry about with being called to come here than my attire.

JJ’s heels clicked on the polished floor as she entered the reception, her professional appearance clashing horribly with the casual style of my low top converses and I tried not to feel intimidated.

“Alice! I know that I said we wanted to see you again soon, but this is a little crazy.” She breezed as she approached me with a warm smile and I tried to force myself to relax. “Hotch is just finishing a call and he’ll be out to meet you.” She explained, before her gaze fell onto my outfit and I felt myself physically become stiff under her scrutiny. “You look pretty!”

“Oh, thanks. I was just on the beach. I’ve already worn all of my work clothes so, um, this is all I have?” I offered, shifting awkwardly and she smiled sympathetically at me.

“We’ve all been called in at unexpected times. I was literally collected from home in my pajamas once. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” She soothed, leaning closer to me as she spoke so that no one would overhear my concern and I let out a long breath in relief.

“Besides, I know that Hotch is just going to appreciate you being able to come in at such short notice. I hope you got to enjoy at least a little bit of your time off before we intruded?” She asked with an honest concern in her eyes and just as I opened my mouth to see if she could give me even the slightest hint of what to expect, Hotch stepped into the room.

“Alice. Thank you for coming so quickly.” He stated in his usual serious manner, reaching straight to shake my hand and I complied immediately, forcing a smile through my nerves. “I’ll try not to take up too much of your time. Let’s talk in my office.” He offered, opening the glass doors to the main office for me and I stepped through hesitantly.

Within approximately two steps of entering the space, I could already feel eyes on me and tried not to allow myself to be unnerved by the attention. The anxious voice in the back of my mind screamed that I was the most inappropriate looking member of staff to ever enter this office, but I forced myself to keep my head held high as Ricky had always preached.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Spencer was watching me from his desk as if he’d been stopped in his tracks and I waved subtly at him, prompting him to hurriedly do the same back in a fluster. Morgan passed Hotch distractedly, before he noticed that I was following him with obvious surprise.

“Looking good, Poppins. Welcome back.” He muttered as he squeezed beside me, sneaking a charming smile and thanks to the combined warmth of the two men, once again I felt my nerves beginning to settle slightly.

Hotch encouraged me to take a seat in his office, before closing the door behind us and I felt as if I couldn’t think straight in the silence that followed. He settled into the seat opposite me, knitting his hands together on the desk between us and despite feeling before that I had reached the point where I could understand his expressions, his face at this moment was completely unreadable.

“For a start, I want to discuss what happened at the Twenty Nine Palms base.” He opened, his stern eyes studying my face for every minute reaction and though my heart sank at the suggested topic, I nodded back calmly.

“Whilst it can’t be denied that your actions resulted in saving a young girl's life, they were also unacceptably reckless. You demonstrated absolutely no regard for your own safety and jeopardised the reputation of the whole team. You are aware that we appreciate your support, but I’m not convinced that you realise we are legally and morally responsible for your wellbeing whilst you are under our service and that I would be personally held accountable for your death as a result of your irresponsible actions.” He lectured, his voice sounding even more severe than it had when I was in the ambulance and I felt my confidence crumbling with every word that he spoke.

It became clear that he had paused his speech to allow me the chance to explain myself and I cleared my throat to speak with a feeling of terror.

“I’m truly sorry for my actions, Sir. You are entirely right. I was reckless and selfish, and I didn’t consider how my behaviour would reflect on your team, and especially on you. I’m not going to make excuses. I just want you to know that I accept any and all consequences that you feel are appropriate.” I answered calmly, ensuring that I kept my tone calm and respectful, and he sighed as he studied me.

“I didn’t call you in here to punish you, Alice. This is a conversation, not a lecture. What I aim to understand is why an agent with no field experience, or any personal stake in the case, felt that they had no choice other than to risk their own life to save a child who they’d never met?” He clarified, his entire demeanour remaining unchanged even as he moved to a gentler tactic of questioning and I chewed on my lip.

It took a few moments for me to consider how best to answer this, but eventually I decided that I respected this team as a whole too much to lie. I prepared myself for a conversation that I knew would likely change his opinion of me permanently, but assured myself that honesty was a necessity at this point.

“When I was fifteen years old, my mother was abducted.” I began, glancing down at my hands as I spoke to avoid the intensity of his gaze. “It took four months for her to be found and when she came home, she was a different person. I never saw the mother that went missing again.” I paused, clearing my throat to keep the emotion from my voice before continuing.

“Three years later, a girl at my university went missing. She wasn’t the first, but the stakes were high as all of the others had been found murdered. I obsessed over everything that my mother had survived to come home and I couldn’t imagine how awful it would be to endure that at just eighteen years old. So, I began looking into the case and after a while of digging, I compiled enough information to anonymously assist law enforcement in safely recovering the missing girl. I realised then that I had the skills to make a difference to the world and I kept going, one missing person at a time, until Interpol found me.”

“You were given a choice between conviction, or working for them?” Hotch asked knowingly, as if he’d seen this very situation many times before and I recalled the recent conversation that I’d had with Penelope about hackers frequently being recruited through their questionable activities. I nodded slowly in response, deciding that this wasn’t the time to divulge any further information about the circumstances of my hiring.

“I didn’t join this field by choice. It was never the plan for my life. Don’t get me wrong, I always wanted to help people. I actually trained to become a psychiatrist, like my dad, but a job like this had never even been on my radar. Yet, here I am.” I explained, shrugging awkwardly as I realised that this sounded like I was ungrateful for the mercy that I was shown and I tried to be more careful with my wording when I spoke again.

“When I was standing in front of that building, watching the smoke pour out of it, all I could think about was how my mother told me that she spent every minute of every day that she was in captivity praying to come home. I could just imagine Amanda doing the same thing, hoping with everything she had that someone would save her and I was right there.” I stopped as frustration seeped into my voice, allowing myself to regain control so that I could resume my explanation.

“I knew that there was a chance that she was still alive and I felt like everything that had happened, all of the crazy unplanned situations that had led me to being there at that exact time were so that I could save her. It sounds insane, but it was like my legs moved before I had even decided what I was going to do. For the first time in my career, I trusted my team, this team to have my back and with all due respect, Sir, it was the right thing to do.” I finally finished my rant, forcing myself to meet his eyes to allow him to see my sincerity and I was shocked to find that his face was filled with understanding, causing me to realise that he was already filling in the blanks between my words.

“You said that this was the first time that you felt this way about your team. You shouldn’t be working with people that you can’t rely on. In our line of work, we are forced to face horrors that most people can’t even begin to imagine. The people around you should be your anchor in the storm.” Hotch advised, causing my eyes to become watery and I sniffed back my emotions, desperate not to cry in front of him. “You have options, Alice.”

“What options? Prison?” I scoffed, recalling my conversation with Shepard with a flinch.

Though I had thought in detail about leaving Interpol many times since my recruitment, I knew in a serious light that it was merely a fantasy and nothing more. Without my employment to them, I was considered as nothing more than a threat to security and returning to normal civilian life was no longer something that I could consider.

“Join our team.” Hotch offered, causing my mouth to drop open in shock and I noticed the corners of his lips twitch slightly upward at my reaction.

“It’s clear that you are neither happy, nor valued at Interpol. You have already proven the difference that you could make across multiple cases and the entire team have agreed that you make an excellent addition.” He elaborated, listing reasons that I struggled to even associate with myself and I couldn’t seem to form a response, as I stuttered in the silence.

“But, I-Sir, we just discussed how I jeopardised this team. I don’t mean to seem rude, or ungrateful because I absolutely am not, but I fail to see how I’ve given you the impression that I would make a suitable field agent. You already have Penelope for technical support, so I’m not sure what else you could need me for here.” I pointed out, hardly able to wrap my head around the sudden detour that this conversation had taken and found myself baffled at the very concept of him offering to employ me.

“When your team brought you for the Valeno case, you showed potential that they were purposefully dismissive of. After you left, Gideon suggested that I speak to you about a position within the BAU. Unfortunately, at the time we didn’t have the available resources to do this. Due to the recent successes of this team, we’ve been granted the budget to expand and I would be foolish to ignore a candidate who has already contributed to that success. You are a good fit and the first choice of every member in this unit.” He presented, completely disregarding my concerns and when I looked at him with confusion, he sighed.

“I have discussed the recent incident with Gideon and we share the opinion that with the correct mentoring and the support of a team that believes in your worth, you could be an exceptional field agent.” He divulged, causing me to raise my brows impossibly higher in surprise.

It was bizarre enough that Hotch wanted me to join the team, but finding out that Gideon had been the instigator for this offer blew what remained of my psyche to pieces and Hotch cleared his throat to regain my attention from my inner turmoil.

“The offer would, of course, be conditional. It would be based on your own commitment to overcoming your experiences. None of us are immune to personal biases and each of us have elements of our pasts that make certain cases more challenging for us than the others. However, we rely on each other to hold us accountable, and have all learned to be objective and to know our limits. If you think this is something that you can also undertake, then there is a place here for you. As long as you want it.” Hotch clarified, causing me to stare back at him in blatant disbelief.

“I-I honestly don’t know what to say.” I stuttered, fiddling with my hair anxiously and Hotch cracked a rare smile at me. “It isn’t as simple for me as just changing state. My life is in France now. I’ve already left my mum behind once in England. I’d also have to renounce my dual nationality and become an American citizen.” I thought aloud, considering the enormity of the decision before me and Hotch nodded in understanding.

“Can I have some time to think about it?” I asked nervously, unsure of what else to say and Hotch seemed completely unsurprised by my reaction, as if he’d actually been expecting it.

“Of course. It’s a serious decision that you aren’t expected to make right away. Take all of the time that you need.”

--⥈--

“Girl. Your life is crazy!” Ricky gasped, studying me with a fascinated expression and I had to laugh at his dramatic reaction, despite mostly agreeing with the sentiment. “You’re gonna say yes, right?”

I sighed deeply as I considered this question and the way that he considered me now revealed exactly how insane he thought I was for even needing to think about it. In order to avoid his prying eyes, I stood to start clearing away the takeaway boxes that littered my hotel room bed, but Ricky refused to be silenced.

“Alice. Honey. What are you doing?! Life at Interpol has been miserable for you since day one. You said it yourself. I can’t imagine anything there that could be worth turning this offer down for!” He scolded, staring at me in complete disbelief and I shook my head at his youthful attitude to things.

“It’s more complicated than that. I never planned to work in this sector at all, much less as an FBI agent!” I explained, still struggling to process the fact that this was even an option that was open to me. It felt as if it had come from nowhere and I was already overwhelmed with the mere concept of making such a serious life decision.

“This isn’t just a job that we’re talking about here. It’s a completely different life. I need to be sure that I can handle it, before I move away from everything that I know. I’d hardly ever get to see mum and Roger.” I clarified, struggling to make him understand the severity of the situation.

“You never visit your mama anyway! I should know. I overhear Maji talking to her about it enough.” He groaned, only causing me to feel even worse about the idea of moving even further away from her.

“Besides, if you took it then you’d be living right near me and there isn’t any better benefit than that!” He added, posing across the bed as if he were the most important factor in the proposal and I chuckled at him with fondness. He sighed at my lack of enthusiasm, before dropping to a more serious tone.

“The most important thing for all of us is your happiness. You’d be crazy to stay somewhere that is making your whole existence taste like bad Aloo Gobi. And you deserve better than that! You deserve for your life to always be like Maji’s cooking, full of love and happiness.” He described, seeming as if he’d distracted himself along the way and he glanced back down at his plastic container of curry with disdain.

“You realise that you have a gift for being able to relate literally anything to food, right?” I remarked playfully, observing him with amazement and he shrugged carelessly.

“Food is one of the most enjoyable things that sustains us. It’s important.” He argued passionately and I couldn’t think of a single point to dispute his statement with, having to allow him the pleasure of being correct. “Fortunately, Mumbai Gardens is able to provide an almost authentic experience, right here in the heart of Virginia. A good meal can heal many things, you know. Even the stress of your biggest ever life decision.”

“That’s high praise coming from you. Could it pass the home test though, do you think?” I queried with curiosity as I disposed of the remaining trash with the Mumbai Gardens logo on it and he scoffed as if I’d asked something utterly ridiculous.

“Not a chance! Even Mama would be able to tell you that it wasn’t completely correct. You know, she’s actually been with Maji long enough now to have better cooking taste than some of my other actual Indian friends.” He revealed, showing his love for his step mom, who happened to be my paternal aunt Heather, clear in his voice.

I couldn’t withhold a wide grin as I thought of my aunts, both filled with a warmth that radiated even in my memories. Heather and Ricky’s mum, Nabhitha, had been married for almost ten years now and were the main reason that I still had any faith in true love. They had done an admirable job of raising Ricky together, with Heather always treating him as if he was her biological son and I was endlessly proud of them. Thanks to them, Ricky had grown into the confident, funny teenager that I loved. Their blissful blended family gave me hope for my own future.

“I just had an idea.” Ricky breezed, sitting up particularly straight as if he could barely contain his enthusiasm and I turned back to face him with interest. “If you take this job, we could totally rent a place together! I could be your stylist extraordinaire, in-house councillor and professional Indian chef.” He suggested, his eyes gleaming with excitement and I scoffed loudly at the idea.

“Absolutely not. I’ve already got enough on my plate, without considering parenting you, Ricky.” I laughed, wincing at even the thought of dealing with his dramatics on a daily basis and he gasped at my refusal, seeming as if he could never have expected me to refuse his generous offer. “You can be as offended as you like, but I still don’t have the energy to deal with a college kid in my space. I’m not gonna be your easy way out of student housing. Pick some other teenagers to live with already.”

“Fine. I was offering you a lifestyle of sheer luxury, but I guess I’ll just have to take my fabulous self somewhere that I’ll be better appreciated.” He announced, acting as if he were hurt by my denial, before quickly softening back into a smile barely a few seconds later. “You should definitely think some more about taking the job though, queen. You deserve a fresh start.”

“We’ll see.” I conceded with a chuckle, desperate to simply end the conversation. “Now, which film do you want to rent?”

[cargopantsman]

Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here

Trigger warnings: All of them, because I am lazy. Also none of this is sensical.

Utter, hyper-caffeinated brain noise.

The problem with the concept of a "sense of self" is it already tries to concretize an amorphous abstract. It makes us want to point at some thing and say "Well... that's me." Whether it is a set of ideals that we try to live by, a set of activities that brings us a sense of joy or fulfillment, or, gods forbid, and entirely different and other person that "completes us."

I've always had an affinity for trickster figures and shapeshifters. The wearers of masks, the truthful liars, the artisans of duality, yada, yada. Since I was a child my first instinct has always been to blend in. If into the background, great, but if need be, if I needed to blend into the social fabric around me, I could do that too. To throw this into the high school backdrop; I wasn't a social butterfly, I was shy as could be, but I got along with the jocks, the goths, the nerds, the art freaks, the band kids, the preps, the whatever. Where ever I was I could fake that I belonged there. I was comfortable drifting in between worlds. (Looking back, I could have caused a lot more chaos with the information I was privy to at the time...[Oh, there's a constant point. I'm good at keeping secrets, keeping confidence. I'll lie my ass off to keep a secret.]) Does any of that really help drive a sense of self though? When your natural instinct is to mirror, to blend, to fade? When your point of pride is walking into a room unnoticed and, even better, leaving a party unseen? Does being a ghost count as an identity?

"Expression of Will" comes to mind... what does that mean? Ok, so some abstract thing is inside of you and you manifest it objectly outwardly. I was an artist. I made images in my head and "kind of" manifest them on paper. Some times people see that paper...  I was a writer... images in my head "became" words and some people saw that. I combined them into comics. Some people Saw that. Is that a lasting affect? Maybe the fights I've been into?! That time in 2nd grade someone was picking on a friend and I laid them out... the time in 8th grade someone was picking on me and clocked them down. Or in high school when someone decided to start some rumors and I held them up by their throat in the air until they turned blue? That was an inward thing that manifested outwardly. Nevermind good or bad, but was any of that... me?

Hmm. The beast. The primal... come back to that later.

"Expression of Will," "Expression of Will," "Expression of Will" ... What the fuck even is "Will"? Is this why philosophers get their heads so far up their ass? Is it a desire? The will to live.... living requires eating and the amount of times I forget to even do that... Maybe been looking at the phrase all wrong...

Will to Live (noun) It isn't a thing.

Will (verb) to (preposition) Live (verb)

Why does that sound better?

Desire to Live (noun)

Desire (verb) to (preposition) Live (verb)

Okay, that feels better even, but still... Sense of self, will, desire, expressions thereof. Are these just the aimless desires and wills? The fleeting flights of frivolous fancies festering forlornly in frontal cortices?

The self with the will can direct the desires towards living. "Get in the fucking robot Shinji!" "I don't wanna"

The (ghost) with the (strength) can direct the (impulses) towards (being). Getting too close to a concept of a soul on that one huh?

Forget self. It's a useless moniker right now. There is no self. It's just this mind alone for the first time in its entire life. (Not alone alone, there are friends, but they've learned more about me in the past two weeks than the past 6 years so...) "What did they learn?" asked the projection of self that defines itself by interactions with other.

I thought we were forgetting self.... not an option really. Sentience is a bitch like that. But they've learned I'll put up with a lot of bullshit under the guise of strength and integrity when I should've callously called this whole thing ages ago. That I can shut myself down completely in the interest of bodily-self preservation. (Not Self-self preservation, fuck the English language). What did I sacrifice? What did I shut down?

Everything.

That is less than helpful.

The Beast. Vince. Your Shadow.

My Shadow...

What do you desire?

Blood in the cut, tears in their eyes, power over someone that wants that power over them...

Do you want that? I don't want it, I just need it. No... I want it.

Is that all you are? A sadist? An animal?

Maybe... probably not though. A caretaker, and a sparring partner. A trickster and a shapeshifter. A crafter whose tools are destruction.

Next problem, grandeur. Mythologizing everything. But how to see a thing if you don't blow it up/magnify it?

You lack a sense of self because no one ever tested your sense of self. No one actually fought you for who you are. To find out who you are. The ex didn't. An old friend did until she got scared by what she found there.

You don't want to be yourself because it's not nice is it? You were raised to be nice.

College. I controlled the group. Never hit anyone after high school aside from set matches in classes or sparring for funsies. They all saw my eyes and stopped if they were getting out of hand.

The Dom-Friend.

Don't use the d-word on me.

Destroyer? Yeah, that one's fine. That one fits. He says as he carelessly tosses lit matches around his entire life. Can we bring up the phoenix or is that too grandiose? Why shouldn't it be grandiose? We spend every day of our lives going through the same kind of tedious bullshit all the time why not make our inner lives a bit bigger, a bit richer?

A bit darker.

Why do you want them to bleed? Hurt and comfort. That's a big theme, a trope if you will. Why not have both at the same? Why not let her think that I'm about to kill her but let her rest in the trust that I won't? Why not let me think that I'm about to break her while believing she is the most precious thing in the world?

Caretaker. A caretaker kills all the time. Tearing out weeds, uprooting the prized plant to move it to a better place for its growth.

Growth.

The self isn't going to be found just in ones self... not in another either. No, the self has to be found in everything. The things one wants to run to and run from. The soul (oops) is formed by what it crashes into right? The mind recoils from traumas races towards panaceas, why not, if one can, flip the polarity on the two. Bring the darkness screaming into the light so you can see it, bring the light quivering into the darkness so it can loose its terrifying brillance. Balance in all things right?

You're not a very positive person, they say. No... I'm not. It lashes out in bad ways sometimes, sure. Control, control, you must learn control. But being negative isn't bad. Not if you can grow from it. No plant can survive the sun for 24 hours. Trees sleep in the winter. We sleep, we heal, we grow.

Self-Destruction!! That's a fun one... seven fucking months downing a bottle of whisky a night. Whooo boy. Do Not Recommend.

Got a nice stay in the underworld though and trudged up a lot of shit. Now I'm sitting here with my ears ringing because I finally hit the personal limit on Monsters and my brain is overclocked enough I can finally see shit at 4 angles at the same time. I am a god damned quantum supercomputer of emotions right now.

Faith and faithlessness are the same thing. Have faith, trust the future, don't expect anything, don't plan your now for your future. Sounds sadly like live in the moment type bullshit, but life is weird and people are complex. Shifting drifting clueless animals that want to be safe but don't want to get stuck in anothers arms even when there is one whose arms are so safe.

The damage runs deep... and two people with damage running that deep. Hmm. How much healing can falling do? The other just puts a bandage over a puncture wound and both try to ignore it, but then the blood gets pumping, the heart pounds and poisons surge to the surface. It's neither one's fault really. Life is a trial of knives and we don't always have time or concern to tend the wounds properly. There's always something else that needs to be taken care of first.

Divorce is a helluva drug. It is maddening, the freedom to finally to be yourself is line having the lineart stripped off, there is a terrifying infinity in front of you and the only thing to do for awhile is melt. Let the slings and arrows just pierce and sink in. Anyone else tries to push the sludge of you into a shape might get hurt when they find the arrows. I want to go absolutely feral in a way. In a way the whole COVID mess is keeping me under lock and key so I'm just prowling around the empty house like I always have been, but now there's some sense... of purpose.

I'm raging against any depression, the executive dysfunction is going to have a talking to. The sense of self is going to be found in stripping this house down to bare walls and making a blank canvas. Bring everything down, ruin it all, start again.

My self is emptiness, it always has been. I can be anything, but I should be wary of ever wanting to be something. (My career options are AWESOME). But this is a different emptiness than before. Before I pulled the trigger and splattered the brains of the marriage across the floor I was just a void, and inky black pit of nothingness. Somehow, having the Shadow rise up and finally start getting along with the rest of me, the emptiness isn't.... void. It's just nascent possibility and that shouldn't scare me.

It does, of course, terrify me. First time in 40 years being legitimately alone is terrifying, should have done this kinda thing when I was 20, but... I was an idiot back then (60 year old me laughs from the future). But I think I can get a grip on the concept that "I" don't exist, but I'm real... ever changing ever dynamic, not who I was while I was married, but a mix of the me before, a angry beast now, and something yet unseen in the future.

[anika-ann]

For a Smile

Type: One-shot, Reader Insert               Word count: 5400

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, OC x reader (brief)

Characters: Steve Rogers, Reader, OFC, OC

Summary: You see him run past every morning. So you smile, because he looks like a nice person. How could he not be when he smiles back and the world stops for a while to pay respect to such beauty?

And sometimes… sometimes this incredibly handsome man smiles first.

Warnings: mentions and hints of (psychically) abusive relaionship, suggestive themes, swearing, all the fluff in the world

A/N: I used to pass this guy near a café playing music every morning when I went to school and at some point, our eyes kinda met and we smiled at each other; then we did that every day. I kid you not, he’s got the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. It’s not a Hollywood-star smile, no – it’s a guy-next-door smile, heart-warming, with his eyes simply shining. He’s like a kid on Christmas Day… I could ramble on. Anyway, just so you knew what brought this on.

○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○ ♥ ○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○  

A smile costs less than electricity, and gives more light. (Scottish proverb)

Warm honey, sandstone and apricot orange melting into indigo, cerulean blue and stone-grey sky. Merigold playing with salmon and rose pink, teasing each other and making space to the warmer shades of orange.

You watched the beautiful colours of sunrise as you shifted your legs for a bit, causing the simple plank hanging on two tattered ropes sway, a smile tugging on your lips.

It was a little childish really, or it may appear so to anyone who would be passing by; but given what an early riser you were, just so you could watch this breath-taking game of colours, the little miracle of nature, no person could question you as you were dangling your feet off the old swing.

On your way to work, if the time allowed it, you would always make a stop on your favourite spot; a no-name park in upstate New York you were walking through every day, rather calm and drunks-free at the early hour.

Once upon a time, someone had placed a simple swing on one of the trees farther from the path. You sent a silent thank you every time you parked your behind there. You weren’t a monster; if a kid wanted to sit here, you would have gladly (...reluctantly) made space for them, but they seemed to always be more mesmerized by the playground with the actual swings, the chutes, the monkey bars and the sandpit. You couldn’t say you complained though, having the old-fashioned swing for yourself.

It was childish, perhaps; though your mother had once chosen that you should be going into accounting and so you had. Numbers and bills were things even adults hated, but that was what being old enough meant. You didn’t mind it too often, plunging into them for living, but… you needed to compensate, so you felt entitled.

Plus, the motion of the swing was soothing, as if magically transporting you back to your childhood indeed, with less worries, more ease and pure mind.

Yeah, sitting on the swing was your favouri-

Rapid staccato of feet hitting the ground in the distance, no doubt scaring off the birds chiming their morning songs, reached your ears and you had to admit you wouldn’t be completely honest with yourself if you said this was the favourite moment of your day only because of the aforementioned reasons.

There was one more.

It had strong long sweatpants-clad legs, broad shoulders in a sports t-shirt with seams crying for help, blond hair and-

Your heart melted along with your brain as your lips curled up in a genuine smile you sent in return.

-and the most beautiful smile in the whole universe.

You never spoke. Didn’t say hello. You never even nodded in mutual acknowledgement.

You just… smiled at each other.

And that was your favourite moment of the day crafted to perfection. A breath-taking sunrise, almost eclipsed by a mesmerizing display of the row of perfect white teeth framed by plush coral red lips and the twinkle in beautiful inviting eyes of a stranger.

You knew his name despite never exchanging a single word. Everyone knew his name. But Captain Rogers – Steven Grant Rogers – was a name that held no meaning. He didn’t know yours and probably never would; so strangers was who you were. A couple of strangers exchanging a smile every morning and lightening up (hopefully) each other’s day.

It always felt nice when you glanced at someone on the street, then just… somehow smiled and they smiled back, didn’t it? So what if you were an adult woman dealing with numbers for Stark Industries sitting on a swing and he was a deservedly treasured national icon?

It made no difference.

Just two people sharing a tiny piece of their day for a smile.

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“You’re insane,” your colleague stated dryly as she walked into the office at seven thirty, already finding you with an empty coffee cup, your fingers flying over the keyboard.

“Huh?” you raised your eyes from the screen on autopilot, not really paying attention.

You still noticed Harry rolling her eyes; it was just that distinctive.

“I said that you’re insane, you crazy-ass lark. My brain isn’t even awake yet. To be fair, I’m ninety percent sure I met Captain Handsome in the hall along with our boss, so it’s hard to tell if I’m dreaming or not, having a vision like that.”

“Captain Handsome?” you frowned, your mind racing, desperately trying to remember who was Harriet’s newest crush. ‘Captain Handsome’ could be literally anyone.

“Our resident Star-Spangled Man, you dummy. You’re low on caffeine. Or sleep. That’s what you get, getting up in such an ungodly hour…” she hummed, crossing her arms on her chest as she looked at you sceptically, a drop of disappointment in her eyes.

Oh. Oh! That made sense; if the man was with Tony Stark, the range of options narrowed significantly, especially since your friend had called him a captain. Except it didn’t make any sense at all.

“What was he doing here? I mean… since when is he wandering in our department? It’s all across the compound here from the training area.”

“Well, look who’s actually awake and bright-minded…” It was your turn to roll your eyes at your friend. “My point exactly. No clue, but lemme tell you – seeing that ass? Definitely made my day,” she threw over her shoulder as she stalked to the coffee machine and you couldn’t but chuckle at her bluntness.

Your stranger had an amazing smile, that was true. But your gaze did slide elsewhere on occasion too; which was why you would never try to disprove Harry’s claim.

“We might have the Ironman for a boss, but, girl… I’d like to know what Rogers’ ass is made of then,” she added and you burst into another fit of giggles, your face feeling hot all of sudden when your mind unhelpfully supplied with ‘vibranium’.

What would it feel like?

Yeah, you definitely needed to go back to your numbers before your impure thoughts got the best of you.

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The first time you two met outside the park, you were in a bar.

You hadn’t seen him for almost a month, assuming he went on a long-drawn mission; one that had ended well, clearly, since he was out drinking. Just eyeing his companions and instantly noting his body language, you could tell he was suffering. Like, not literally suffering, but it was very much obvious he was not feeling comfortable.

His eyes were drifting all over the place, as Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes laughed loudly, patting his shoulders while a hint or red dusted his cheeks, and then they fell on you.

His face was screaming ‘save me!’; yet, his smile was still as warm and kind as ever, an impossible spark within his irises, visible even from the distance. That twinkle was always the biggest mystery to you, because logically, no person could have eyes so bright, but here he was, proving your claim wrong.

Your lips spread in a smile automatically and encouraged by your second drink, you considered adding a small silly wave.

Before you could execute the decision, the result of your two last braincells arguing whether it would be more silly or sweet, an arm sneaked around your shoulders and your smile widened on instinct at the sensation. You turned your head to Cade and met his lips halfway to yours.

You had been dating for almost a month now and this inconspicuous guy from logistic of a giant company that was surprisingly not Stark Industries was a dream coming true. He was showering you with so much attention you weren’t sure he was real. Late-night conversations via phonecalls or texts, good morning, good night, kisses that lasted long enough for you to forget that you in fact needed oxygen, touches that set you on fire. He was easy to fall in love with.

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout that got you smilin’ so wide, babe?” he whispered to your ear, grazing your earlobe with his teeth.

Gosh, you wanted him. The first sex hadn’t been so great, Cade chasing his own release, but hey, first times were always hard in a new relationship. The more were you excited about your second time and you were confident the second time would happen tonight.

“Nah, just smiling at strangers. You know that feeling, so nice, when you just toss a smile and they smile back?” your eyes found his, only to see him frown.

“I like it better when you smile for me, babe. What did some stranger do for you to deserve that?” he hummed discontentedly, pouting adorably as his hand slid lower to squeeze your hip possessively. It sent a spark through your body, a lightning striking right into your core.

“Just teasing you, Cade. I was thinking about how I lucked out,” you batted your eyelashes and a slow delicious smirk played with the corner of his mouth all of sudden, intensifying the heat inside of you.

“Wanna get out of here, pretty thing? Lemme show you how lucky you are?” he whispered, the pad of his thumb grazing your lower lip, pulling it down a fraction. “Or maybe… show me how much you think you lucked out, huh? How much you appreciate being mine?”

God, yes.

Judging by the glint in his eyes and the hungry kiss that lasted too short – but too long for such a public place – he didn’t need a verbal confirmation. He swung by the bar to pay for your drink and practically dragged you out of the rather crowded space. Your head was spinning a bit and you couldn’t tell whether it was excitement or alcohol. Either way, you really, really liked it.

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“You know that Cade was a dick right?” Harry noted nonchalantly while she handed you a cup of coffee and assessed (correctly) that you were sulking again, thinking back to that one particular night when you had noticed the first sign – or you would have if you hadn’t been such a goddamn idiotic goose of a woman, drunk on top of that.

You sighed and sipped your punishingly bitter dose of caffeine.

You were positively brooding and you didn’t care if it affected anyone else. The world apparently hated you and you couldn’t quite blame it.

Not even your precious strangers-exchanging-smile moments felt the same anymore. First, your stranger had started smiling less brightly after your encounter at the bar and then, even if it had changed, you wouldn’t be able to tell, because you were too wrapped in your own misery. Even the curve of his lips looked sad, which was a stupid thing to say, because he had no way of knowing about either Cade turning out to be an abuser-in-making or about you breaking things off with him and cracking your fragile heart in the process, while yelling at yourself mentally every morning and still longing for Cade’s arms around you since it always felt oh, oh so good to be held…

You recognized the signs early, but not soon enough. You let it escalate into him trying to control when you went out and with whom, him lashing out when you wouldn’t respond to his text in longer than five-minutes time, letting him yell at you when you missed his call… he loved you, after all, he just missed you and was afraid you were with someone else, and oh babe, come here, you can make it up to me…

Your sister had gone through something similar, for god’s sake. You should have noticed sooner. You should have known better. But no, you had allowed your body, your twat to be precise, to rule your brain and that had been stupid.

Cade had tried to get in touch several times after your break-up, even waiting in front of your apartment until you would go out once; you might have threatened him with a restraining order after that particular day and he had stopped quickly after that, only two of three attempts with a new e-mail address and number to get pass you blocking his previous ones.

Still. It made you miserable. And perhaps a bit self-hateful.

You deserved every bitter drop of Harry’s horrible coffee and more.

“I was being blind and stupid,” you opposed and returned to your figures, deciding your exchange was over. Figures were clear enough; they were easy to read and didn’t make your brain drunk on endorphins and other very specific hormones allowing you to act like a teenage girl, excited at her first boyfriend groping her. “Thanks for the coffee.”

A huff sounded above your head and suddenly your swivel chair was being yanked back and turned around, a pair of strict chocolate eyes boring into your soul with startling clarity. Harry’s fingers were wrapped around the armrests as she was leaning into your space.

You backed into your chair instinctively. She looked menacing.

“He was a charming bastard from what I heard and his type always knows how to manipulate people, letting them see what he wants them to see. It’s not your fault. You’re one badass of a woman, smart as hell for noticing before it escalated. You’re my hero. Mine and every other person’s who has ever been in or even heard of an abusive relationship. You can do better than him. It’s a funny coincidence they spelled his name wrong anyway.”

You blinked away your sudden tears, immensely grateful for her words that somehow wormed their way inside your very core (you blamed the intense stare that reminded of your mother’s when she was giving you the kind of talk that was too serious for you to handle) and yet you tilted your head in confusion, not understanding the meaning of her last statement.

“Huh? His… his name?” you stuttered, baffled.

Harry positioned your chair back to its place with a grin and went back to her own business.

“Clearly, they added an ‘E’ at the end. What a stupid typo…” she threw over her shoulder cheekily and when you caught up, understanding her point, you released the first honest laughter in what felt like a year.

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Your life had been set off to better course after that short conversation. You felt like you were healing every day, finding yourself lighter. Happier. Freer of the baggage Cade had tried to left you with. The sensation was indescribable and it radiated from you; some days more noticeably than others.

You found yourself indulging the blond stranger’s smiles once more, finally seeing the spark in his eyes again, the genuine curve of his lips warming your heart and starting off your day in the best way imaginable.

Naturally, life had a reliable means of showing you it could suck.

Right when you thought that you were fine, it delivered another blow; your favourite place in the world… ceased to exist.

Someone put the swing in the park down.

They just… erased it from existence.

Maybe they considered it dangerous. Maybe they were being dicks. Maybe they thought it was old and ugly. It didn’t quite matter.

You could weep, mourning your intimate inanimate friend.

You didn’t cry. But it was a damn close call as you shuffled towards the playground and eyed it sceptically. You knew it wouldn’t be the same and not just because the swings were in a plain sight, but they also looked too fancy, to actually child-like and— they weren’t your swing. Your sanctuary. Your private space. Your secret place you never told anyone about, not Cade or your previous boyfriends, not your family, not Harry or other friends, not to anyone.

You watched the sun rise on the horizon, ridiculously heavy feeling in your chest, ignorant to the rest of the world.

God, you hated Mondays. You already knew this week was about to be a disaster.

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“There’s a swing outside in the green area.”

“Huh?” you hummed distractedly, too deep into figures to register more than the sound of your friend’s voice. What was her name again? What was yours? What day was today? What was the time? Had you already had lunch? Had the lunch-time already passed…?

A chuckle followed by a to-be offended tone responded to your intelligent way of communicating.

“I’m starting to think ‘Huh’ is my name with how often you call me that,” Harry (aha!) remarked with a hint of sass, but repeated herself, because she knew she shouldn’t take it personal that you didn’t quite payed her any attention. You were a person who would get sucked into their own world, too focused on one task to acknowledge anything else. “A swing. In our compound park. It’s kinda cute, hidden from a plain sight though, a simple wooden thing.”

You slowly raised your eyes to hers, your pupils widening with surprise. Your pulse was roaring in your ears, your heartbeat no doubt shaking your whole frame.

Harry was telling you that there was… a swing. In the compound area. Hidden from everyone’s prying eyes, at least partly.

Why?

How?

You could only come up with one ridiculous theory which involved you, but that idea alone was laughable. Why would anyone do that for you? More importantly, how did anyone know-

“You think it’s an invitation for children? Like, is ‘bring your kids to work’ day happening any time soon? ‘cause, not to be rude and greedy, but one swing doesn’t seem like— hey!” Harry called after you, but you could barely hear her as you jumped to your feet, your heels be damned, and strode through the halls with zero regards to anyone in your way.

Not that there was a soul; people actually worked around here, too busy to wander the halls.

The thing was, that one theory about the swing didn’t just involve you. It involved one more person, but that person was a stranger to you and had no reason to even… acknowledge you. Besides the obvious part of your day that no longer existed – not in the way it used to. But the thought was simply laughable.

A different part of your brain raised a figurative sceptical eyebrow, argumenting that you had no better explanation for the phenomenon.

Because… you loved Harry. She knew about your traditional early morning watching the sunrise, but not about the swing. The swing was always a secret, no one knew, except… except one particular guy who always passed you on his morning run and exchanged a smile with you and just happened to work at the very same compound you did and technically had the power to pull the strings to make this happen.

With your heart hammering in your chest, you gasped for fresh air when you finally made it out of the building, your eyes searching for a calm spot, a tree in whose shades you could possibly find a prove of Harry not pulling your leg.

Your heart positively stopped when your eyes fell on the simple plank hanging on two ropes, indeed offering a safe space for anyone who decided to sit there in search for serenity.

You felt tears stinging in your eyes, your feet moving of their own will despite semi-high heels digging into the ground an inch with each step, bringing you closer to that little, yet breath-taking miracle. A chuckle escaped your lips when your trembling fingers brushed the grey ropes, more of your senses acknowledging that this was in fact happening.

Your hand followed the line of the rope, sliding to the plank, only to notice a rough sensation on your fingertips in the corner. A carving, you realized.

Tears of surprise actually welled up when you recognized they were initials. Your initials.

How-- how was that possible?

‘Sit down, you dummy!’ your consciousness cried out exasperatedly. ‘It’s clearly for you!’

“But why?” you asked it under your breath incredulously, thousands of questions ruminating, no answers on the horizon.

Regardless, you reluctantly lowered yourself, shocked when your feet dangled above the ground in precisely the same way they used to-- they used to in the park. It was even installed in the same height.

Reverently, you gave the swing a test-drive, just tiny motions of your feet to try it out.

It was perfect.

Your gaze fell on a sign on the tree trunk, small, subtle and harmonizing with the place without a fault.

Sanctuary of the kind ones. Do not disturb, it read.

You giggled breathlessly, lightheaded and with no care in the world.

That naturally changed when you spotted your very much expectant colleague in the distance, her arms crossed on her chest, figuratively tapping her foot and screaming questions without saying a single word.

The thing is, you thought, I have no idea how to answer.

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Perhaps it was naïve, a child-like trust and excitement, but the next day, you went to your new spot expecting to enjoy the sunrise there and not to be disturbed indeed.

You weren’t.

What you couldn’t quite prepare yourself for was the single daisy lying on the wood, starling you to no end. Hesitating all of sudden, you searched your surroundings, wondering if you interrupted someone else’s plan. Perhaps someone had the same initials as you and whoever made this happen had a different person in mind, doing it for them and the swing was just a funny coincidence.

But then in the middle of your mussing – on the swing, because, screw it, you might as well enjoy this since no one had kicked you out yet – a familiar figure ran past, gracing you with a beautiful smile, once again without a word and with a shy gaze falling to the ground after you met their eyes. With that, it… actually started to settle.

He had done this for you. For some incredible inexplicable reason… your smiling ‘stranger’ offered you a kindness of unseen measures.

And as if it wasn’t enough, you would find a different flower on the wood every day for the whole week. They weren’t even fancy flowers, which made it absolutely magical. Daisy. Tulip. Lilly. No red roses, only cute blossoms, matching the simplicity of the swing.

Harry was nearing the verge of insanity due to your goofy smiles and flowers in your hands; but you remained tight-lipped like an international spy during an interrogation, too afraid that if you said it out loud, sharing that ridiculous impression you were getting these days with anyone, your bubble would burst.

And surely enough, as if you jinxed it mentally, the next Wednesday, no flower waited for you.

It was ridiculous how your mood died instantly. It could have had hundreds of explanations including the one that he went for a mission, because he was Captain Freaking America, in case your stupid heart forgot, but nope, you would still feel the corners of your lips turn down.

You watched the shades of orange bleeding into blue and grey, lost in thought and with unsettling longing in your heart.

You suspected his steps sounded purposely loud when they came from behind you, where you wouldn’t expect them. You didn’t need to see the familiar Nikes on his feet to know it was him; you doubted anyone else would approach you, let alone at such early hour.

Yet you would lie saying your heart didn’t skip a beat when he stopped in his slow tracks by your side, steady feet next to your dangling ones, and you had his identity confirmed.

Your throat went dry and stiff, your voice dying before it could form.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he whispered reverently, not disturbing the peace of the indeed lovely scenery in front of you.

You didn’t dare to look away from the sunrise as your voice came out unfairly scratchy, a stark contrast to his deep and smooth one that felt like a caress on your skin.

“It is.”

Silence fell on your pair again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The birds sung their morning songs, waking up the world and you didn’t think words were needed. Except you owed him something, and you wanted to say it.

Reluctantly tearing your gaze away from the painting by the most amazing artist, the nature itself, you casted a glance at him.

You didn’t realize you had never seen him still; duh, you did know that, but what didn’t quite click in your brain was that you would be able to see him in all his glory, soft smile and an absent gaze framed by long eyelashes, shadows casted all over his face and body, playing games which gave him a surprisingly ethereal aura for a man of his built.  

Your stomach tied itself into a knot at the sight and the ‘thank you’ got once again stuck in your throat when his eyes turned to you as well, you breath stolen from your lungs, your lips parting uselessly and curling into a smile on instinct when his did.

Despite seeing the too startling sparkle up close, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the deep blue with a hint of green of his irises. It was just too captivating, locking you in a sweet cage you didn’t feel trapped in, but free and suddenly able to breathe in again.

“Thank you,” slipped from your lips unwittingly, shocking to your own ears.

The very same hint of scarlet you remembered from the infamous bar encounter dusted his cheeks, his smile softening as he turned a bashful gaze away, now fixated on the ground.

“Just wanted to see you smile again. Best part of my day,” he admitted, peeking at you from the insanely long and thick eyelashes and you could melt on spot, dizzying vertigo overcoming you at the sweet words. Good thing you were sitting.

You had no idea how to respond, your heartbeat thumping in your temples, your face feeling too hot and chest pleasantly warm at such admission. Your teeth went to chew on your lip and you abruptly stopped yourself. Bad, bad habit.

“Was… was that the only thing? Because the swing would be more than enough, let alone with my initials, and the flowers-“

“Maybe-“ he softly interrupted your lame attempt at flirting which had turned into a babble, but with same nerves coursing his voice unless your senses were playing tricks on you. A shiver ran down your spine at the realization that he might be as nervous as you were-- the strangest thing in the world, wouldn’t it be? “Maybe I could tell you… over a coffee?”

A daffodil entered your field of vision, happy, bright and yet somehow shy in his big hand and you didn’t think twice before accepting it, your fingers brushing his skin in the process only half-accidentally. Passing you the flower, he offered you a hand so he could assist you in standing up.

Ah, as if he knew your knees felt wobbly and uncooperating with the overwhelming turn of events.

You didn’t hesitate to accept that either. You had a hunch that the manners of a forties’ man would be offended if you didn’t anyway.

“Thank you. Again.”

The twinkle in his eyes shone brighter at your words, his smile widening.

“My pleasure.”

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“If I trip over something, I’ll bully you into carrying me everywhere for the next month,” you threatened in a joking manner as your boyfriend of one year led you through his apartment with his huge palm sprawled over your eyes, while his other gently rested on your lower back, making sure you maintained some balance.

“I wouldn’t complain about that. Are you serious? Because I just might let you trip then…” he teased back and you could hear the grin in his voice, mesmerized by the happy note in it. You would roll your eyes at him fondly, but he wouldn’t see it, so there was no point.

“Don’t you dare…”

“Okay, let’s stop now,” he whispered in your ear, his hand shifting to your hip to squeeze lightly, causing you to shiver. You and Steve had taken your time when it came to physical aspect of your relationship (past certain bases anyway), so a touch like that still sent a delicious electrifying feeling through your whole body.

As if you weren’t excited enough ever since the moment he had told you he had had a surprise for you.

Chewing on your lower lip, you followed his gentle instruction and stopped in your tracks.

“Should I be afraid?” you asked for the fourth time in the past five minutes.

“Terrified,” he confirmed in a joking manner. “You ready?”

Not waiting for your answer, he uncovered your eyes and with a deep inhale, you snapped them open.

Only for your breath to hitch at the sight in front of you.

“Oh my god... it’s beautiful!” you exclaimed, a surprised chuckle escaping past your lips.

In the corner of the living room, soft marigold pillows laid in a circular hammock chair coloured in the indigo of an early sunrise, practically begging for you to jump in and nestle there with a book and relax.

Instantly reminded of how you met Steve in the first place, you couldn’t but spun on your heels and threw your arms around him, strong arms eagerly welcoming you as his chest shook with hushed chuckle.

“Glad you like it,” he murmured, hiding his face in your hair, raising you from the floor effortlessly. “Happy anniversary, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! Happy anniversary, Steve. This truly is amazing. I love it!”

“But not more than me?”

It was your turn to chuckle as you retreated, placing a kiss on his nose and earning a pout that simply had to be kissed away.

“No, Steve, not even this amazing hammock compares to you. I’ll show you exactly how much I love you in a sec, I just have to test it out,” you promised.

He released you with no protest and watched with a fond smile as you climbed in with a child-like excitement, the corners of his eyes twinkling. He slowly made his way to you as the hammock swung gently with your weight and you sent him a delighted grin as he sat on his heels in front of you, his hands landing on the edges so he had the control over the movements.

“What’s the verdict?” he pried softly and you opened your mouth to respond with enough enthusiasm to power the state of New York for a year; but he continued. ”Is it comfy enough for you to… make you consider- that maybe-- you could… stay here more often?”

Your breath hitched, your throat swelling when you got a pretty good idea of what he was asking from his serious gaze. Yet, you needed to make sure, butterflies in your stomach flipping their wings wildly as you leaned forward, invisible magnets pulling you towards him.

“And by ‘more often’ you mean-“

“All the time,” he whispered, his eyes roaming your face nervously, trying to spy a reaction, read the answer in your expression alone.

You chuckled incredulously, ecstatic at such proposition, and placed your palms to both sides of Steve’s face, grateful for his grip on the hammock and trusting him not to let you faceplant on him with how hazardous the kiss you gave him was.

Your eyelids fluttered close, but you felt his smile as his lips engaged in a tender dance with yours, one of his hands sneaking to the side of your neck to pull you closer, tilting your head as his tongue teased your lips to part.

How could you deny him anything even when you felt like you were about to fall face-down any second? He would be under you when you landed anyway. What more could you wish for-

“I love you,” he breathed to your mouth as he broke the kiss for one damned second that felt like eternity; one second in which you forgot to suck more air in even when given the opportunity. Who needed oxygen anyway? You could breathe Steve in and live blissfully, it was what you were trying to do for the past minute and it was glorious- “That’s a yes, right?”

A chuckle escaped you as you dodged another kiss, his lips landing in your hair instead, the hammock swaying hazardously. Mm, seemed like your supersoldier was too distracted to watch your balance.

“Yes. The hammock totally convinced me,” you teased him lightly, an idea striking you when you said those words. Climbing down as he was still sitting in front of you on his heels, you lowered yourself on him, nestling in his lap and leaning to his ear and sharing your not necessarily filthy thought in a breathless whisper. “But I think I still like sitting right here much better.”

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S.R. masterlist

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Tags: @mermaidxatxheart​

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Thank you for reading :-*

P.S. - Keep smiling; at the people you love whenever you can, at strangers and at the person you see in the mirror :))

[crispyliza]

Spamano multi-chapter fanfiction recommendation masterlist!

For all you home-quarantined people that have nothing to do and also because I’ve been meaning on making one of these since 2015 (took a global pandemic to get me started lol) 

These fanfics are all with multiple chapters and listed in no particular order. Of course some are better than others, but every single one has its charms! I added only a few with 3 or 4 chapters because i liked them too much not to whereas the rest of the fanfics have at least 5+ chapters. So without further ado, here they are:

Una Notte A Napoli “One night in Naples, by the moon and sea, my heart was stolen by an angel who had forgotten how to fly.” (completed)

Per Sempre Tuo “Lovino Vargas, better known as Romano, is a famous TV actor. He has everything anyone could ever want. The only problem is that the thing he wants, over-night singing sensation Antonio Fernandez, is married.” (completed)

HOVA “The Nova Sagittarius was a ship that would take myself and countless other passengers on a one month trip around our solar system. But things went wrong; the ship changed and just like that, we were stranded. We got to know each other but more than that, we got to know ourselves.” (completed)

What We’d Do Without Gravity  “While lost in a hospital Antonio comes across young terminally ill patient, Lovino Vargas. With Lovino left only six months to live it’s an awful time a romance to blossom between the ill fated pair, but with a bucket list to race through as the clock ticks down, the two find that love is very hard to avoid.” (completed)

Numbered Lithograph “When Lovino starts attending art school with his brother he finds his most important lesson doesn’t come from his professors, but from a culinary student at a sister school: sometimes the flaws hold the beauty.” (completed)

Tienimi Streto “Lovino Vargas is a detective with a poor attitude and a dark past, driven to the side of law by pain and revenge. After his partner quits, he is paired with specially recruited Antonio Carriedo, who becomes something more than just a co-worker. When deaths linked to the Italian start popping up over the city, Lovino begins to question everything he thought he knew.” (on-going)

More than attraction “Antonio says he met his love’s eyes over the bin of tomatoes. Lovino says he was stalked relentlessly until he was forced to give in.” (completed)

Credo “AU, 1502. Fueled by revenge, Lovino Vargas hasn’t failed an assassination job yet - but when a new Spanish captain comes to Rome, killing the unorthodox Antonio Carriedo might just be the death of him.” (completed)

Secret Tunnels from Madrid to Sicily “When Antonio Fernández Carriedo begins work as a professor at a prestigious university in Britain, one of his students, a Sicilian boy who goes by the name Romano, immediately catches his eye. He is a clearly gifted writer, who closes himself off in the wake of a dark and painful history. Even wrapped in his darkness, pushing everyone away, Toni finds himself determined to bring out the potential within Romano…They drag each other into a passionate, inevitable affair–doomed, they know, to end in flames.” (completed)

Why Did it Have to be You? “Lovino’s parents are tired of his horrible behavior, and hire Antonio to babysit him. But time is a cruel mistress, and in absence the heart grows fonder. These are just some of the things Antonio and Lovino will learn.” (completed)

And the Birds Sing No More “Don’t ever leave me.” Lovino said nothing. He allowed the tense heaviness to settle among his shoulders, tighten his lungs, and spread between the space from where he stood to where Antonio was seated lethargically. Antonio’s gaze sharpened. Lovino, inclining his head slightly, whispered, “I won’t.” (completed)

A Dancing Star “Antonio is the easy-going, life-loving art professor and Lovino is the Italian exchange student who walks into his art studio. When Antonio falls in love he thought he only had his job to worry about, but maybe it’s Lovino’s dark secret that’ll push him away. Trigger warning for self-harm and dark themes.” (completed)

Kismet “Lovino learns the hard way that things change and that they can change quickly. The necklace fell and now he’s in a strange land far from home. Will he ever see his brother again? Will he find his way home? Or will he discover home is where the heart is? Fate is a strange woman and can work in mysterious ways.” (completed)

Let that be enough “Lovino had given up hoping for someone who’d care about him. Antonio never expected to fall for the most tormented guy in town. But dark secrets and hidden dangers threatens their blooming relationship. Is it over before it even begun..?” (completed)

Child services “Romano and Feliciano Vargas have just lost their parents. Romano, who is 22, must care for his 6 year old little brother. Enter Antonio Carreido, the agent from Child Services who must record his progress, however, it’s hard for the cheerful Spaniard to keep from falling in love with this little broken down family and with Romano.” (on-going)

Loving a Stranger “You don’t remember, but I know you. We were- I don’t even know how to describe our relationship. That sounds bad, I know. I think you might have been in love with me, although I cannot see why. That’s just what I’ve been told. I acted as though I hated you, but I never did. I was afraid, because you were kind to me. I didn’t know I loved you until you forgot me…“ (completed)

The Many Personalities of Spain “England casts a spell to rid himself of Spain. As expected it goes wrong; leaving Romano to deal with the many personalities of Spain. That sounds like a normal day for Romano, right? It would be if the personalities not had their own personifications.” (on-going)

Daisy Genocide “My name is Lovino Vargas but that’s not who I actually am. I’m my brother. They put his DNA into a little ball of jello and grew me like a house plant. To say it blatantly, I’m a clone and I’m in a disturbing amount of trouble. I’m about to tell the story of my fight to preserve my humanity followed by a vicious history of crime but it’s a secret. Nobody has to know.” (completed)

More Than Meets The Eye “Striving to find approval and meaning, Antonio throws himself into the world of art determined to come out on top. Yet, in all of his searching, burning, and pain, he never thought that a single culinary student could ever manage to tear down his walls and make him face his biggest fear; himself.” (on-going)  

Cryonic “After suffering a fatal attack from an unknown illness, Lovino Vargas underwent cryopreservation, leaving behind his only family, his boyfriend, and a blooming company. Years later the effects are only just coming into play causing more problems than his preservation was supposed to solve. Human AU; T for language; pre-established Spamano.” (on-going)

All of Our Flaws “Antonio is a man whose world revolves around anyone but himself. Lovino is a man with dreams bigger than a job behind a drugstore counter. Antonio is broken; Lovino is incomplete. Will a chance meeting lead them to mending their cracks and finding their missing pieces? Human AU, trigger warning for self-harm.” (on-going)

Truly an artist “Having already completed college, Lovino Vargas lives in Madrid as an artist suffering from severe artist’s block. In one of his visits to his old school he runs into a new teacher, Antonio Fernández Carriedo, who decides he’ll be the one to help Lovino in his endeavor to find himself. However cheerful and optimistic, Lovino still feels there’s more to Antonio than he’s letting on.” (completed)

The Heartbreaker “Sometimes the best things happen unexpectedly. Certainly this is Antonio’s opinion at the moment. The handsome stranger he met upon moving to a new town in Italy seems to be able to do almost no wrong. Until he digs a little deeper below the surface and begins to discover an unsettling reputation. And if the rumours are true, is it wise to trust a man known as ‘The Heartbreaker?” (completed)

We sing, We dance, We eat tomatoes “When Lovino Vargas takes in a starving guitar player called the Curbside Prophet from the streets of Philadelphia, he isn’t expecting the man to tolerate him for more than a couple weeks, much less fall in love with him. Based on the the music by Jason Mraz.” (on-going)

Underwater Land “Antonio was a merman. Lovino hated water. It was truly a match made in heaven.” (completed)

Flashlight “If I throw a tomato at you, vampire bastard, will you still sparkle under the sauce?” Twilight parody. (completed)

Catch you, Catch me “Clumsy, clueless detective Romano is on the trail of the infamous handsome and charming thief El Apasionado Caballero. But there’s more to this, what seems like a simple game of cat and mouse, than meets the eye.” (completed)

Blackbird “Antonio walks into a small coffee joint, hoping for just some caffeine to take the edge off of late-night studying for midterms, and gets a whole lot more than he bargained for in the form of a snarky, foulmouthed, Italian barista.” (on-going)

Counting Stars “Antonio, failed writer and journalist, thinks things are finally going his way when he lands an interview with actor Lovino Vargas. But it’s only the start of a long line of problems… the biggest of which may be Vargas himself.” (on-going)

Cosa Nostra “Based on the historical background of the Sicilian Mafia during the First Mafia War starring Mafia!Romano.” (completed)

Tight Rope “Rich, spoiled kid Lovino Vargas hates pirates. Pirate captain Antonio Carriedo hates rich, spoiled kids. None of them ever thought they could feel something different from hatred towards one another. However, Fate seems to have different plans for them, and twists their lives in unexpected ways.” (on-going)

When You Recover “Nurse Lovino Vargas has to take care of brain damaged patient Antonio Carriedo, who seems to have a strange affection towards him. N-not that Lovino likes it! The Italian is determined to make the man recover, no matter what it takes. What will little Lovino get himself into with this patient?” (on-going)

Like All Things, It Ends “Lovino doesn’t want his family to know how much his childhood trauma still affects him and he does a good job at hiding it. That is, until he moves to a new town and meets Antonio, someone he is unable to hide anything from. (Warnings for PTSD, Depression, harmful thinking of oneself, and violent death of a loved one)” (completed)

Wish upon a star “A drunken wish on a star lands Lovino back in the time of pirates, and when he runs into a familiar face with an unfamiliar personality, he’ll start to question his own heart. Pirate!SpainxRomano. Rated for language, violence, and maybe mature situation” (completed)

Crooked Timber “As an artist, Lovino understands that perfection doesn’t exist. If only Antonio agreed with him, and stopped trying to hurt himself. -Human (College) AU. Spamano multi-chapter with other minor pairings. Depressed!Antonio, Writer!Antonio, Artist!Lovino- TW for self-harm.” (completed)

Just Pretend! “Romano liked Emma- a lot. Except her stupid big brother was too overprotective (and, okay, a little scary)! He wouldn’t allow any guy near her- unless they weren’t romantically interested in Emma. So, Romano decided to pretend to be gay, with the help of Antonio, in hopes of getting Emma to fall in love with him. Perfect plan, right?” (completed)

The Duty of an Elder Son “Lovino Vargas knew a lot about duty.” His Grandfather’s swollen empire puts all of his family in danger, the other gangs are massing, the police are on their tails and Lovino is given a bodyguard in one Antonio Carriedo. 1920s Mafia AU fic. (completed)

Flatmates “They were flatmates, they were best friends and they were really frustrated about relationships. So what would two young men do about this?” (completed)

Zero Tolerance “Lovino lives a perfect life. Or atleast thats how he is suppose to appear. Antonio lives a life as a dangerous gangbanger. North Side meets South Side as these two are partnered in their Chemistry class. But there is one chemical reaction these 2 arent prepared for- Love. AU, human names used. Based on the book “Perfect Chemistry” by Simone Elkeles.” (completed)

Your Love Can Be My SIght “Seventeen year old Lovino Vargas lost his sight in a terrible car accident. Antonio, a teacher at Lovino’s school was born without it. Can Antonio teach Lovino that even without sight, life can be beautiful?” (completed)

The Greatest Treasure, You Idiot! “Spinoff of the “Sea Foam” chapter in Hetalia Fairy Tales. Captain Carriedo of the pirate ship, Buscador Dorado, seeks a legendary treasure “that is worth gaining” with the help of the infamous wish-giver, Lovino. But what is the true treasure?” (completed)

Crowns of Triple Gold “Things are rarely simple for Romano in the Eternal City, especially when he falls for one of his clients, a Hispanian senator up for consul against his father.” (completed)

Prisoners on the Slave Ship of Love “Lovino Vargas has been captured and taken hostage in a pirate raid led by Captain Antonio Fernandez Carriedo and his band of Spanish buccaneers. Tensions grow high and hearts are tested when Lovino becomes Captain Carriedo’s personal prisoner…” (on-going)

The Lemon Tree “Lovino didn’t want to be a slave in that scary mansion. He needed to break free. The fight for independence, however, is a difficult path, and falling in love with the man that destroyed his life doesn’t make things any easier.” (completed)

Sun Kissed “A powerful man once created gods to rule the sky as the creatures of the land lives. The Sun and the Moon. Brothers since birth, and all powerful, they rule side by side. As time passes, the Sun realizes how unhappy he is watching people hide from him. What happens when he discovers a man who isn’t afraid to live under the harsh sun?” (completed)

Tesoro Mio “Antonio’s the charming, handsome farmer with an infuriating Spanish accent, and Lovino is the mysterious wine entrepreneur who comes and goes. When Antonio falls in love, he throws society, expectations, and religion to the wayside, but can a strict Catholic like Lovino do the same?” (completed)

Because of the war “A first person POV for Romano during and after WW2. His thoughts as he fights and survives. Beware of angst.” (completed)

Just Add one Mermaid’s Tear “To gain something of ultimate value; the unthinkable must be preformed. The line is etched upon the brow of every nation, the taste of the water still on their lips. What happens though when one nation desires the fountain of youth once more?” (completed)

Until the Moss Had Reached Our Lips, and Covered Up Our Names “In a city filled to the brim with gangs, all the territory split between them, peace has lasted for the past sixteen years. It’s a tentative peace, won after the last massive gang war reshaped the entire city. Except all it takes is one domino to fall, and the Vargas patriarch is dead, leaving behind Antonio to lead his house, who isn’t even his blood relative. With an untried Head, the balance of power has started to shift again, and it seems as good a time as any to start calling in old debts and revenges.” (on-going)

The Bet “When someone kisses you, and then moves away you’d think that would be it. But when Antonio comes back from Spain he wants Lovino to be his again. Except Lovino now hates Antonio…which sucks for Lovino because Antonio isn’t going to let go that easily.” (completed)

Wings “People ask me a lot why I love him. Why I spend so much time chasing him when he never returns my feelings. It’s because I see something they don’t.” (on-going)

My Heart is Drenched in Wine “Wine and romance. More importantly, when you cut through my wine!fangirling, this is a story about Lovino and Antonio and how they find their way back together (in spite of the past and occasionally the present) as they attempt to make wine and sometimes love.” (completed)

Of Two Minds “Feliciano and Lovino are living on the streets, with a secret that keeps them from getting close to anyone. Will their lives get better or worse after being forced to join a pirate crew, and what will happen when their secret finally comes out? Rated T for some (minor) violence, Romano’s mouth, and some angsty feelings. Pirate AU.” (completed)

Beats of Fever “Antonio Fernández Carriedo is a doctor working in Madrid dealing with a crush on an Italian tourist when the tensions in Spain reach a head and Civil War breaks out.” (on-going)

All of Our Sins “Lovino is Catholic, but he’s not entirely sure what he believes. Nevertheless, he and his brother Feliciano are forced to attend confirmation classes. When Lovino meets their group leader- bizarre, cheerful Antonio; one of the first people to treat Lovino like he matters- things get complicated. When they find this church is much darker than it appears, things get terrifying. Fast.” (completed)

Es Sólo Tu Corazón “Lovino has been in love with Spain for as long as he can remember. All he wants is to be with his former caretaker, but he soon finds out that the Spain he knew as a child is no longer there…and the real one is far more dangerous.” (on-going)

There Goes My Life “Antonio, 26, a old gourmet chef, a bachelor who’s all party. Lovino a 20 y/o premed student who only has one goal, to be become a doctor. He is determined to let his feelings for the Spaniard fade away, but after receiving devastating news, a drunken one night stand leads to the end of life as Lovino knows it.” (on-going)

As We Were “Rich, bored and unhappy, Lovino Vargas is the heir to his grandfather’s wine brand. Antonio is the restless young traveller prone to attacks of claustrophobia. For them, falling in love is a journey. Literally. Spamano, Human AU, multi-chapter. Warnings for language and sexual themes.” (completed)

NekoRoma “Antonio has been feeling lonely with his recent break up with his on/off boyfriend. The solution: a new kitten that his boss doesn’t want. Just as he gets used to this cat, a new challenge is thrown at him. How do you teach a cat to be human?” (completed)

Summer Sensations “The hot summer nights of Madrid bring many things, but one very special night changes two lives forever. Lovino learns that love is not such a frivolous thing after all.” (completed)

Fools Like Us  “What starts out as a normal Friday night for the “Bad Touch Trio” soon becomes an opportunity for Francis to use his favorite word in reference to his best friends. Unfortunately, Gilbert and Antonio couldn’t possibly have fallen for people who would return their feelings easily, but Francis is determined to help them out despite his own relationship-or lack thereof.” (completed)

Hear Me “Antonio and Lovino are trying their best to get by in high school, but between the stresses of grades, family, friends, and heartache, it’s a lot harder than it looks.” (completed)

Fame and Fortune “Lovino Vargas is a barkeeper and reluctant Stasi informant. As much as he despises what he does, he obeys the terrifying Red Army colonel, Ivan Braginsky. That is, until the secretive and frustratingly attractive Antonio Fernandez Carriedo arrives in his life and breaks all the rules. Inspired by the Elvis Presley song of the same name.” (on-going)

It’s all Antonio’s Fault “Condoms, footballs to the stomach, fake nurses, confusing hallways, and flying backpacks. Lovino Vargas’s first day at World Academy was already one of his worst, and he could only imagine that it would spiral downwards as he got to know the tomato bastard, otherwise known as Antonio Fernandez Carriedo.” (on-going)

My Antonio “Going against everything in his strict, Catholic upbringing, Lovino has fallen desperately into love and lust for his family’s Spanish stable boy, Antonio.” (completed)

Sound Life “Spain is dead, leaving Romano distraught and wishing for there to be a way for him to see his beloved Spaniard alive and healthy…Only to wake up in a strange alternate world… with another Spain seeking his affection.” (completed)

Possessively Scary “Romano begins college late with his brother after their nonno passes away. When entering, he meets a very strange Spaniard. The man is odd but still attractive at the same time. As they get closer, Romano learns more about Antonio and doesn’t know if he should be scared of the man or not. Can he get out of something he got himself into?” (on-going)

This Dance “Antonio wants Lovino to be his dancepartner at Austria’s ball. Lovino, struggling with his growing feelings of love and affection for everyone’s favorite tomato-bastard as always, agrees. Now, there could be worse things, right?” (completed)

Powdered Sugar “Truth, like powdered sugar, tastes sweet but goes down cold. If a spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down, we might need a bit more.” (completed)

Singles “Antonio, Francis, and Gilbert are three friends who suffered their first heartbreaks at the age of fifteen, and made a pact to never fall in love again. That will change for Antonio when he first lays eyes on a brown-haired young man in a club…” (completed)

A Heated Story “Sky High / superpower hs au. wip. Lovino Vargas is a new kid at Sky High with his brother. He has the power to control fire. Only one problem, he hates the heat. Spamano, and other ships. Doesn’t actually have anything to do with the movie, just used the school.” (on-going)

I Don’t Hate You “Lovino and his brothers face the unknown while on a mission to Earth. The Italian angel comes up against more than he bargained for when a dark angel takes a liking to him and now he and Feliciano might be cast out.” (completed)

Like all things, it ends “Lovino doesn’t want his family to know how much his childhood trauma still affects him and he does a good job at hiding it. That is, until he moves to a new town and meets Antonio, someone he is unable to hide anything from.” (completed)

Disegno e Colore “A young, apprenticing artist, Lovino craves rationality, perfection, and self-possession, and has curated his life to one day attain that. He never expected a chaotic and brash painter to barrel into his life and test everything Lovino thought he wanted and knew of himself, his art, and his heart.” (on going)

Land Beyond Dreams “Antonio is saved from death by someone he’d spoken to only a few times, but who lost his life in the process. Grief-stricken, he only wishes he could have gotten to know his savior, when his dreams suddenly become reality…or are they still only dreams?” (completed)

It’s All Antonio’s Fault “Condoms, footballs to the stomach, fake nurses, confusing hallways, and flying backpacks. Lovino Vargas’s first day at World Academy was already one of his worst, and he could only imagine that it would spiral downwards as he got to know the tomato bastard, otherwise known as Antonio Fernandez Carriedo.” (on-going)

A tale of endurance “Lovino had no idea what to do. Knowing that your life will be over in half a year tends to do that to you. Well, one thing he knew for sure. No one would ever discover this until the day he was pushing daisies. And that was a fact.” (completed)

The Risk of Love “Romano is dead and Spain is broken, spiralling into the deep, blackness of depression. And as he locks himself from the outside world, isolating himself from his friends, from everyone, in his oblivion of pain, Romano find’s he’s the only one who can help. Only, how can useless ghost like him even dream to help the slowly dying love of his life?” (completed)

Dance with me “Lovino Vargas started taking tango lessons completely by accident. Who would have thought that one day he wouldn’t mind those hands roaming over his body? That he would be dancing with his teacher as if there was no one in the room but the two of them?” (on-going)

Fireflies “Lovino was abandoned in Italy with his grandfather at age seven because his parents liked his little brother better than they liked him. On his way back from America, he sits next to a far too happy Spaniard. But, when this childish Spaniard turns out to be his new teacher, what will happen? And with a field trip to Venice on the way, what antics will they get up to?” (on-going)

El Corazón del Pirata “Fate is once kind, twice cruel. And Captain Antonio Fernandez Carriedo does not have a heart, nor does he fall in love with his prisoners. But Lovino Vargas might just be the fuel to his flame - certainly there’s more to him than meets the eye.” (completed)

More Than Lust “Why did the Spaniard always hope for the impossible? That Romano would come to him one day, confessing his feelings, and they would make LOVE? That they would cry out each others names, he could hold the Italian, wake up the next morning, and he would still be there?” (completed)

The Prince and the Pauper “When Prince Feliciano goes missing, it is up to a poor servant boy Romano to step in to take his place and thwart an evil plan to take over the kingdom. However, falling in love was something neither one anticipated. Based off of the Princess and the Pauper.” (completed)

Talking to My Shadow “Lovino spends his life telling doctors about his brother, Feliciano. They hear about his look-alike brother everyday but never see him. Lovino is finally taken to a new physiologist and he meets the doctor’s son, a springy little Spaniard who’s excited to help his new friend, no matter the difficulty. Will this illness mean a life time of seclusion for Lovino or can he win?” (completed)

Spend my time dancing “As much as Lovino loved seeing the upperclassman in his soccer jersey, he’d much rather help him take it off. It’s about time they started playing on the same field. AU. SpaMano. Various others. All’s fair in love and soccer.” (completed)

Maybe, Just Maybe “Romano couldn’t help but be instantly attracted to the stranger on the train, the one with bright green eyes and an unforgettable smile. How could something so simple end up changing his life so much?” (completed)

Dead Alone “Lovino drains the life from anything he touches, seriously. It seems that he’s the embodiment of death while his lively twin brother is his counterpart life. He has isolated himself from everyone, for their own protection. So what happens when a new transfer student decides to take an interest in him his freshman year of high school?” (on-going)

Lovino and the Conquistador “Lovino lived a life of simple pleasures; a good book, his own little world and an odd, but loving, family. However, in order to save his family, he must take their place as prisoner of a hideous beast within a gloomy castle. Based on “Beauty and the Beast” (completed)

Truth Be Told “The Well of Uncomfortable Truths is discovered & deals Spain a hard fact- "Whenever you said you loved him, you didn’t really mean it. You were thinking of his brother. They were empty words.” Can Romano be convinced about whom the Well was talking about?” (completed)

Scaliest “When his entire life is taken from him, Antonio vowed to slay the beast that ruined his life no matter the cost. But on his travels he meets a secretive, sassy bard who might be more helpful than either of them realize. Is vengeance the answer or is there more at stake?” (on-going)

All I’ve lost “Lovino Vargas has slowly fallen into the trap that is Anorexia. He meets Antonio who is a strangely kind kid. Lovino thinks maybe, just maybe…there is hope. Warnings: Depression, anorexia, bulimia, mental illness and bullying.” (completed)

Infection “Antonio didn’t know what to think of the man who randomly showed up in his home… completely naked. Yet, he still found himself drawn to this “Lovino”, only to be thrown into his worst nightmare.” (on-going)

Tomato Angel “What happens when Antonio get’s jealous? (Aftermath of ‘Awesome Being Evil’)” (completed)

Step-Lovers “King Romulus is getting married to Queen Isabel. While the wedding goes smoothly, things don’t go all that smooth for Antonio and Lovino. The heat is especially turned up when it’s decided that there will be a competition for who gets to be heir to the throne.” (completed)

There goes my life “Antonio, 26, a old gourmet chef, a bachelor who’s all party. Lovino a 20 y/o premed student who only has one goal, to be become a doctor. He is determined to let his feelings for the Spaniard fade away, but after receiving devastating news, a drunken one night stand leads to the end of life as Lovino knows it.” (on-going)

Broken Wings, Healed Hearts “Junior Lovino Vargas, a broken angel, has a dark secret he’s determined to keep to himself, now matter how much of an outcast it makes him. But will his new neighbor, Antonio, change that?” (completed)

The Reunion “Light or Dark?” Lovino asked. Feliciano studied him before answering. “Light. Light always wins” When Feliciano Vargas catches the eye of a mysterious man only by the name of “The Lord,” he finds himself and his brother on an adventure ending in Germany’s infamous Black Forest. However, the Lord’s affections are not what they appear to be and Lovino finds himself worried there is a worse threat other than some creep trying to get into his brother’s pants. (on-going)

Slowly But Surely In Love “Lovino Vargas turns fifteen, the age at which the words of peoples’ soul-mates say to them when they first meet is branded onto their wrists. Feliciano has a brand as soon as the hand strikes midnight, but why doesn’t Lovino?” (completed)

Life with Lyrics Lovino Style “Lovino struggles with what he believes is a one-sided crush and his completely oblivious, also entirely too cheerful, brother. Mentions of suicide, but not a death fic!” (completed)

Walking the Line “Maybe stumbling into Walmart in search of supplies during the end of the world wasn’t as good of an idea as Lovino initially thought. Nothing screamed desperate like raiding the aisles of a fucking Walmart for food while a hoard of the undead snarled at him from outside, but that didn’t seem to matter to the armed trio he stumbled into, or more specifically, the odd Spaniard munching on Skittles. His ideas were getting to be pretty lackluster these days.” (ongoing)

Hymn to the Sea “Please, call me Antonio,” he says. “Oh, and Lovino?” “What?” Lovino snaps, a little sharper than he wants when his brain has finally caught up to his embarrassment and he realizes he’s acting like a love-sick child. He finds he still can’t keep up when Antonio’s smile changes into something different: not the friendliness it was earlier nor the comforting warmth it was moments ago. No, this one is affectionate. “I prefer your smile over Feliciano’s any day,” he says, quiet and honest. (completed)

I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You “Throughout the 500 years they spent together, Antonio never stopped reminding Lovino of how special he was, and Lovino never stopped making Antonio the happiest man on earth.” (completed)

Lentamente “Antonio and Lovino are struggling with catastrophic life changes. A traumatic event leaves Antonio scared of his own shadow; a romantic betrayal destroys Lovino’s ability to trust people. And when coping seems impossible, can dance save them?” (completed)

We’d Be Together “Something felt off about Antonio’s new home. The stairs creaked, the windows groaned, and in the mirror he saw a face he didn’t know. The face was young but the gestures old; Toni began a romance untold. He felt an issue new to most… if only he could touch Lovino the ghost.” (completed)

Blessed WIth A Curse “Monsters are real… and they didn’t just hide in your closet or under your bed. Too bad they came in the form of Antonio Fernandez Carriedo- a Spaniard too sexy for his own good. / AU Vampire!AntonioxLovino” (on-going)

Speak  “Lovino is shy. So is Antonio. Oh dear…” (completed)

You Belong With Me “Lovino wished for a lot of things. He wished he had a family or food or fitting clothes or friends but mainly just wished to belong. He doesn’t quite get what he wished for when he meets filthy rich Antonio, who just came from Spain and has settled in the same town as the little thief. Still…it’s a start.” (completed)

The Witch of Sicily “There were still whispers, rumors that the witch of Sicily remained in that forest, cursing all who would come near. It was a place many feared to tread, treated almost as sacred ground. Only fools would dare incite the wrath of the witch by entering that place. Only fools…and pirates.” (on-going)

We the Dreamers “New York City, 1940: Antonio is a recently arrived refugee from Spain, a scarred soldier with firm political convictions. For Lovino, everything is pointless and nothing ever lasts. The two of them live, love and dream desperately, as World War Two threatens to take it all away.” (completed)

Guide Me “After witnessing a startling event, Lovino Vargas finds himself stricken with blindness from a psychological misfortune called ‘conversion disorder’. Without anyone to guide him, he is placed with Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, a novice seeing-eye counselor, who will try to help him regain his sight and if not, teach him how to live in the new dark, lonely world ahead of him.” (completed)

Pirate’s Lullaby “It was the last thing in the world that Lovino Vargas wanted. To fall in love with Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. But when the pirate takes him aboard his ship, Lovino learns that maybe it’s not so bad to be a pirate.” (on-going)

Infamous “Lovino was a childhood actor, but once the show he was a part of got canceled he thought he was free and could leave all the acting and fame up to his brother Feliciano. However, when a 'follow up’ episode is decided upon ten years later, he ends up going back. There he sees a familiar, face; Antonio Carriedo, a singer with his eye on Lovi making normal impossible” (completed)

Guilty Bliss “Lovino has had a drug problem for years that he’s never been able to stop. With his debts getting out of hand, Lovino finds himself in situations that made him wish he had quit.” (completed)

Bottoms Up! “Follow Lovino on his weird and, well, at least quite interesting trip around Europe in order to find out some of the greatest secrets ever about himself, Europe, tomato-shaped alarm clocks and the past of his lovely, but complicated Spanish partner.” (completed)

A Trip To Spain Could Only End In “Lovino is a foreign exchange student in Spain. Things were going just brilliantly before he happened upon a Spanish restaurant in the heart of Madrid where he laid eyes on a certain Spanish Sex God…” (completed)

The Pirates Treasure “Pirate Captain Antonio wants one thing, and one thing only; a mermaid. Boy or girl doesn’t matter, as long as they are royalty and can make him jewels.He’s got his wish, but dealing with this prince is going to be much harder than he thought.” (completed)

Strike a Pose, Fake a Smile “Antonio loves the stage; Romano hates it. So when he’s “convinced” into coming to drama club, he’s not gonna like it. In fact, he’s going to say things that he’ll regret. And because he’s such a good actor, this time Antonio believes him. Uh-oh.” (completed)

A Helping Hand “Antonio owns a cafe low on business. One day a strange boy comes in, running from a group of men and covered in wounds. Antonio offers for him to stay and repay him with work. As payment, the boy Lovino begins to make new dishes to bring more people into the cafe. Who is this boy and why won’t he tell Antonio anything but his name and age?” (completed)

A Beautiful Story “Lovino Romano Vargas is a suicidal designer who is unhappy with his fate. One day, he chances to meet Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, who turns his life upside down.” (completed)

Careless “This year, Antonio had priorities: grades, girlfriend and the Football competition, securing college with his two best friends! But that was before the Vargas moved in with all their drama including kidnapping, threats, and football talents. If anyone asks Lovino, not getting killed would be a clear ecstatic success. He is just what Antonio needed, or not.” (on-going)

This is it for now but I might update this if I get any suggestions, if I remember any fanfic that I missed or if I find any new good ones. If you’re an author and want me to add your fanfic or if you just want to suggest me one don’t be afraid to PM me! (because this is a masterlist after all)