#i love those two idiots they're everything to me

[shinischis]

so i read your fic and i really really like your bc of kaito smelling like vanilla and how shinichi finds comfort in that scent, it’s cute how he gets all sleepy all around kid, not because he’s bored but just because he’s tired and there’s finally some sort of comfort it’s actually so sweet, i love how you wrote their dynamic.

are there any other things you headcanon about these two sillies? i wanna know some other peoples opinions on them

HELLO HELLO

tysm for reading my fic, I'm glad you liked it, I was worried about it not being up to people's expectations bc it was my first ever kaishin or dcmk fic in general.

You did get the point I wanted to let out through the fic perfectly. Shinichi gets sleepy around kaito because he feels comfort around him for a reason he doesn't really know, and because kaito smells like vanilla, he associates said comfort to that scent, and that's why he gets a candle at the end of it hehe

I do have some more headcanons about these two, I think about them a lot and I kind of had a whole ass list in my head,

Okay a little list here of my kaishin headcanons just bc i said so

- shinichi likes a lot of things about kaito, they're very specific and very little but he wants to always be around for those specific things.

Those include Kaito's morning voice, the way he smells like vanilla (because of his shampoo or shower gel or whatever), his hands for whatever reason (he thinks they're interesting to watch them at work, especially if picking locks), and the way kaito can always make shinichi laugh when he's trying to act serious (he would never admit it though)

- kaito also likes a buncha things about shinichi, he thinks they're stupid and would never admit them to shinichi.

Those include the way shinichi smells like coffee (but he's dramatic and acts like he hates it), the way he rants about his interests and keeps going on and on for god knows how long (but kaito will sit and listen to every damn word like the idiot in love he is), shinichis focused face when he's trying to figure out something (his furrowed eyebrows and hand on his chin and all), and also.... his "football thighs"

- they're both hopless for one another in different ways .

Shinichi is more of quiet, just yearning from afar, his ass would never make a first move

Kaito is more out going about it, he flirts and kisses and has no sense of personal space and acts like they're already together before they even get together

- autism 🤝 adhd couple fr

Shinichi has autism, I'm 101% convinced and no one can tell me otherwise. I'm self projecting. And his special interest is sherlock holmes because his ass knows too much and won't stop .

Kaito is adhd, he diesnt have it, he IS it. That's just how it works.

- they're too gay, I need his about that as well

I was thinking bi shinichi, starts as fem leaning when he first figures it out but over time finds out he's more men leaning.

Then there's pan kaito, he gen likes anyone, he doesn't give two shits about gender anymore

- top kaito, bottom shinichi, pls and thank you

- I think in uni they'd have total different paths.

Shinichi going for police dep obvi just bc he has to be his detective self as always, kaito is no way near, he hates cops and will act allergic to his own boyfriend of he ever sees Shinichi wearing a cop outfit or something like that, would probably hiss at him like a cat hisses at water until he changes his clothes

Kaito would do gemology in uni, he knows a lot about gems, he's seen a lot of gems, he's stolen a lot of gems, so why not do things related to it for a living. He's probably opening a little jewelry shop after that, maybe after all the kaitou kid stuff is over a d he just wants to settle calmly

That's all I got for now, somehow I forgot everything else I had in mind the moment I was asked ahahaha

[virgo-dream]

i'm at my grandma's place for christmas and there's a dog somewhere in the neighbourhood barking

but it sounds nothing like the way my dogs bark and now i'm sad that i'm not spending christmas with them for the second year in a roll

[fangisms]

hiii i loved „spring breaks loose”!!🤍 could i request another something for theodore, where the reader is quite bubbly and loves talking and he, the quiet guy he is, just likes to listen? and maybe the reader is worried that she talks too much and it could be annoying to him but he’s just so in love that he’s obsessed with all her rabling😭😭 sorry if thats too specific

darling socialite

A/N: um i love this because if someone let me chat their ear off, i would fall in love. i love a chatter and i love a listener 🩷 gif creds: @perfectlyfuckingcivils

Pairings: Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are talkative as all hell, and Theo has dubbed himself your devoted listener. 1.3k words

Warnings: i be cursing, fluff, mild self-consciousness, two dummies in LOVE, mattheo being a perv (boy moment), kissing…, pansy being a slight bitch (lovingly)

Everyday, you look forward to telling Theo anything and everything. Sometimes, you'll get so excited to tell him something that you'll jot it down on the nearest surface. Most of the time, that surface is your hand. Who can blame you; you can't resist the gory details.

Everyday, Theo looks forward to hearing anything and everything from you. You're his favorite news source, his sweetest messenger, his darling socialite, and he is your devoted subscriber. He's worried one day you'll run out of things to tell him, but according to the ink splotches across your skin, there's a slim chance that'll happen.

"Hi, teddy!" you chirp, and he turns to welcome you into the seat beside him. "You will not believe what I saw in the courtyard on my way here: a willow tit!"

Mattheo chokes on a gulp of juice, sputtering in his seat and looking over at you. "Pardon?"

"Don't be crude, Matty. I'm talking about birds."

"Yeah, I got that, I just never realized you’re playing for the other team—"

"Mattheo!" you holler, glaring at him in utter disbelief, "you complete idiot! Birds, as in real birds. As in those things that fly around and chirp and eat berries!"

"Let me get this straight, we're not talking about some bird's tits? Suddenly, I'm uninterested," he says, earning a pointed glare from Theo.

"Anyway," you say, rolling your eyes and facing Theo, "You hardly see them anymore, they're very rare, but I saw one, and it was the cutest creature I've ever seen on campus! It was so round, I could have died. He must've liked all the rain we got over the weekend. I hope he survives the winter and has lots of little tit babies in the spring!"

Theo could not be more head over heels for you while you babble about round tits and babies. He thinks if he ever opens his mouth to respond, he’ll screw it up in an instant. Thank Merlin, he's naturally quiet and content to listen to you all day. And thank Merlin, you never ask for anything more from him.

If only you knew how much he truly adores you and your ramblings. He holds your company in his highest regard and considers every time you choose him a blessing.

You never think too much of Theo's tight-lippedness. You figure if he was completely sick of it, he'd just get up and walk away. Or maybe that's not like him, and maybe you are a bother.

It doesn't help when Pansy skips up to you in the hall and says, "I'm really impressed you're able to hold Theo's attention as long as you do."

"What are you talking about, P?" you say.

"Well... don't you ever worry he's, like... bored with you? I mean, when was the last time he actually contributed to your 'conversations'. I just don't want you to get your hopes up, you know?" —she shrugs it off like it's not an unforgivable curse to the gut—"If I were you, I'd find a more attentive playmate. You can always talk to me!"

"Thanks, Pansy," you say.

"Just looking out for a friend! See ya!"

You nod and wait by the bottom of the stairs as she hops her way up. You didn't think you were getting your hopes up, necessarily. You thought Theo was just a good listener. And sure, he's not super responsive, but he's just shy. That's not his fault.

…

There's a rapping of knuckles at the door, and Mattheo hurdles his bed and reaches for the knob.

"Why, good evening, dearest birdwatcher"—Theo perks up from where he's rifling through his trunk.

"I could say the same to you, perv," you tease, "Is Theo around? I need—"

"To talk to him? Figures. He's just hiding his softcore stash—"

"Shut up!" Theo hollers, popping up and hurrying to the door, a little flushed to find you looking at him, "he's just joking."

Mattheo chuckles, "No, he's right, Theo would never have so much fun"—he dodges the jab to his side—"Alright, I'll leave you two lovebirds to your tits and whatnot. Try not to make too much noise, we have downstairs neighbors." He winks and makes his way down the boys dormitories stairwell.

And suddenly, Theo can't remember the last time he was truly alone with you. No onlookers or eavesdroppers, no Pansy and no Mattheo. Just the two of you. His sweaty palms and your rapid heartbeat.

"I need to ask you something," you finally blurt. He looked so nervous you thought he might throw up over the railing, so you put him out of his misery before he has the chance.

"Yes, yeah, anything," he huffs.

"Well," you say, "I was thinking—just... ruminating, really, because it was suggested that I bore you with my chattiness"—you cross your arms over your chest and look to the floor—"and not that I'm begging for pity or even a response, I just wanted to know how you feel because I realized maybe I don't ask about you enough. You know, like I'm always worried about me, or something, but I do worry about you, too! I just wasn't sure if that's something—if you maybe wanted to talk about it more. Because I can be a good listener! I'd be happy to hear whatever you have to say!"

Theo leans his shoulder against the doorframe, adjusting the bottom of his sweater as it clings to his hips. How could he let you believe you're too much for him. How could he let you believe yourself to be some kind of social burden to him. All because he'd much rather listen to you than contribute his own two cents.

"See! Merlin, even now, I've just talked your ear off while trying to apologize for constantly talking your ear off! And I haven't even apologized, yet! I'm so sorry, Theo, I know it's a problem, and I didn't mean to take advantage of your politeness."

You scuff your sole on the landing with a whine, and he leans to the side to watch you look over the edge. It's so quiet for a moment, he can hear your soft breathing if he focuses on it.

"It's not a problem," Theo says. You look over, lips parted at the smug look on his face. "And if I was the one who suggested otherwise, I couldn't be more apologetic."

It makes you smile. He's just said two very thoughtful things to you. Out loud. To your face. You could crumble.

"No! No, teddy, it wasn't you, it was... doesn't matter. You really don't mind?"

He shakes his head, a little amused, honestly. How could he mind? You’re the greatest thing since dark chocolate, and he’d still give that up. You’d go just as well with his afternoon tea.

“Well, then,” you huff, warmer under his gaze, determined to get this damned apology across.

“Alright,” Theo says. Apology accepted. Apology not even necessary. But still accepted.

“Okay. But next time you catch me rambling, you better just shut me up! Tell me to ‘shush’ or something! It’s a problem, and I give you full permission to—”

He kisses you. He leans down, smug with his fingers under your chin, and he kisses you! Shuts you right up like you’re still some gullible first year completely wooed by his boyish charms! Oh, but he’s kissing you very sweetly. And when your knees go a tad wobbly, he rushes to cradle your elbow.

“Like that?” he says.

“That’s no way to treat a lady, Theodore. You should be completely ashamed of yourself for ever thinkin—”

He kisses you again. More sure and much quicker. Like a reflex. A knee jerk reaction without the kneeing or the jerking. Just his stupidly soft lips.

“Yeah,” you whisper, “that works… but you can’t just kiss me every time you want to shut me up.”

“No”—he pecks your lips, fingers gentle at your cheek—“I plan on kissing you much more often than that.”

masterlist

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Birthday wishes [S. R.]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Word count: 6.4k

Summary: everyone seems to forget Spencer's 30th birthday, but he only cares that you remember it.

second part here!

contents: childhood best friends, idiots who-don't-know-they're-in-love, surprise parties, pure fluff honestly

If you like my work leave a comment or reblog, that would make me very happy!

The first thing Spencer did when he got home was get rid of his converse and even though it had been a relatively calm day he was exhausted, so he went straight to the bedroom to throw himself on the bed. He lay back for a while, just enjoying the calm, and then he fumbled for the cell phone in his briefcase. He hit the call button on the contact he'd wanted to talk to all day and then he waited patiently.

“L/N family residence, who do you want me to contact you with?”

"Hello, is Miss Y/N by any chance?"

"Who's looking for her?" you continued and a smile escaped from his lips. It was usual for you to respond in a silly way when he called you, so he was used to it by now.

"Her best friend, Dr. Spencer Reid"

“Spencer Reid? Spencer Reid, I don't think that sounds familiar…” you teased, hearing him snort from the other end of the line “Ah! Wait, I remember you."

“After knowing each other for like 20 years, I hope so” he laughed, and then you too.

Sure enough, the man and you were friends from a very early age. You were his neighbor when he lived in Las Vegas and your parents had always been quite nice to the family, knowing the delicate situation they faced, so it wasn’t difficult for you to become friends. You were the first friend he ever had, a real one, so there was a special fondness between you, even when he had gone off to college at such a young age and distance had subsequently separated the two of you.

You always called each other and every time he visited his mother it was a law that you also received a visit, even if the time was only enough for you to greet each other with a hug. You also traveled to DC a few times because of your work and you even had your own key to his apartment, so if he was busy with a case, you could stay there instead of paying for a hotel. Your relationship was like that of a brother and sister, although as this familiarity grew, it was slightly intervened by loving feelings that you didn’t want to face yet but were definitely there.

You knew a lot about his life from those long-distance calls that happened at least once a week, and right now he was excited about something in particular. He was exactly one week away from his thirty-year birthday, and he hoped that, like every year, you would fly from Las Vegas to see him. It was a tradition, whether it was thunder or lightning, you two hadn't missed a single birthday from the other since he had to move out of state. So Spencer was hoping that this call was for you guys to plan what you were going to do; regularly your birthdays were in restaurants or nice places and his were at home, with food delivery and classic movies, or when you felt very adventurous you could go to a museum or just walk through the streets.

"How are you, Reid? How is everything?"

"Not so good, but not so bad either" he laughed "And you?"

"Everything has been terrible, it's like a curse is on my head, I swear" you complained. Spencer got up from his comfortable position to sit on the bed and although he knew that most of the time you said things like that you were just exaggerating, this time he had a bad feeling.

"Why?”

You started to tell him about the financial problems you were going through and he, with his mind still focused on your visit, thought about offering to pay for your flight to DC, but his spirits fell completely when you told him that you were being put under too much pressure at work.

“We're going to have a meeting next Friday with HR to discuss responsibilities and so on, but honestly I don't think things will get better. Right now I'm working from home because there are pending issues that have to be resolved as soon as possible and I barely have time to think during the day, you seriously can't imagine how busy I've been.”

When you finished the story, he remained silent, feeling his chest squeezed by the direction that things were now taking. With that scenario, your visit was too complicated and he was debating internally about whether he should tell you something about it or not. As he had thought before, the money to have you with him wasn’t a problem, but dealing with the issue of your shortened times was totally different. He didn't want to make you feel guilty for not being able to go, let alone disrupt activities that he knew were important to you, like that meeting you just mentioned. So what should he do? He wanted you to be there, but he wasn't going to make you.

“Crash? You still there?" you asked. Only you and his mother called him that, since his nickname had arisen when he was just a child due to his clumsiness, a trait that, in your opinion, he still retained. It wasn't offensive coming from you, even he was glad to know that this was something that belonged to the two women he loved the most.

"Yes, I'm here. I just was thinking"

"You always do, I don't think there's a single second when that mind of yours rests," you said amused "Anyway, what's new?"

Spencer hoped that you would at least apologize to him for your future absence or ask him what he intended to do today. But you seemed not even aware of it.

“Nothing, really. Today we're done with a case and if I'm lucky I'll be able to rest this weekend” he murmured. Sometimes he would tell you things about the cases, omitting bloody and dangerous details, so he leaned back and started recounting all the events into the speaker of his phone.

You two continued to talk for almost an hour, but the topic of the birthday didn't come up once and Spencer didn't try to bring it up. After all, there were still a few days to go and in the worst case, you could at least call him that day to congratulate him, right?

But as the days went by, the anxiety ate him more and he even called you a few days after that, but he only received a response from your mailbox and after a few minutes a short text message where you explained that you were a little busy with work, but that you would call him as soon as you could. The fact that during those days he found out that the entire team already had something to do on Friday didn’t help his mood too much.

Hotch and JJ discussed a sleepover for Henry and Jack after work, he overheard Garcia and Morgan agreeing to visit a new bar for the night, Rossi said he was going to visit one of his ex-wives and when he thought he could still invite Emily to hang out, she went over to talk to him about the therapist appointment that she clearly didn't want to go to, but had to. There was no remedy, everyone had plans for his birthday and he didn’t want to interfere with them. Resignation was the only thing the doctor had left during the remaining days, and when he least expected it, the entire week had already passed.

He used to wake up to your off-key version of the birthday song and a cupcake with a candle stuck in it, then you'd make breakfast and you'd eat it together; so not having any of that when he got out of bed, he felt his heart break a little. This year he thought he would get your call first thing in the morning, but when he checked his phone he didn't even find a message announcing that there was a case. He didn't want to go to the office to do paperwork on his birthday, but the thought of at least getting a hug from his coworkers cheered him up slightly.

He put on his favorite shirt, a new pair of pants, and the converse that you had given him and he only wore on special occasions, before leaving the apartment. For some reason Spencer enjoyed taking the subway, perhaps more than anyone he knew, and this time he stopped at a coffee shop that was just before arriving to buy something to drink, since he didn't feel like eating anything.

He undertook the entire trip lost in his thoughts and when he least expected it, he was already at the headquarters. He checked his phone, again, but he still didn't get any notifications or missed calls. Many times you had insisted that he get a more modern model and he had refused, but now he was wondering if the advances in technology would have allowed him to communicate with you through a video call. It would be embarrassing to ask Garcia for a favor, so he concluded that he would just wait, after all if he hadn't communicated it must have been for something important.

Upon entering, he greeted everyone with a huge smile and he felt somewhat disconcerted when the others greeted him normally, without hugs or cake on the table. He sat down at his desk to start going through the documents he already had and the others continued on their own business. It was common for Emily or Morgan to come up to him for a chat, but on this particular day it was as if they were avoiding him. Even Penelope, who he swore would congratulate him, seemed to have completely forgotten when he came to her place with the excuse of needing a piece of information from the previous case. When Hotch called him to his office, the man's eyes lit up, believing that his boss had remembered the celebration of the date.

"Can you do me a favor?" he had asked, without taking his eyes off whatever he was writing "Donovan needs to sort some files and honestly he has no idea how to do it and I'm too busy to explain, could you do it?"

Donovan was in charge of the physical file inside the building and it was not usual for him to request this kind of support, but Reid still said yes, and the rest of the day passed with him locked in a cellar full of filing cabinets. He had made sure to take his phone with him and every time he turned it on to check it and he realized that there was no sign of you his disappointment increased. He came to wonder if his mind hadn't been playing tricks on him and, for some incredible reason, he had gotten the day wrong and it wasn't really October 12; but when he saw the calendar, he verified that this wasn’t possible.

“Are you out of punishment yet?” Emily taunted, when after many hours she saw him again by the bullpen. At another time Spencer would have laughed, but right now his mood wasn't quite right for it and he just looked at her, more hostile than he intended. “Hotch left you some documents on your desk, he asked if you could review them before you go. It's urgent,” she informed him.

It was obvious that this would take time and he felt like crying at the thought of having to stay longer than the regular time. It was almost an hour after everyone else had gone home that he finished, feeling somewhat annoyed to find out that even Aaron had already left.

He doubted whether to go home or go to dinner somewhere, because he knew that if he returned to the apartment he would sink into sadness. His birthdays didn't mean anything special on their own, what he liked was to feel loved, to enjoy the company, but above all to see you.

While he was leaving the building, and as if you were reading his mind, a call vibrated on his cell phone. Seeing that it was you, Spencer didn't take more than two seconds to answer, thinking that maybe after the whole day he could improve.

"You won't believe what happened to me!" you said, without even greeting him. It wasn't the kind of sentence he was expecting, but he still decided to listen.

"What happened?"

“There is a boy, at my work, his name is Brandon. Well, Brandon and I have talked a few times now and he seems like a nice person, plus he's pretty handsome and he finally asked me out on a date with him, can you believe it?" you murmured excitedly, and a lump formed in Spencer's throat "We're going out today, the meeting was canceled and we decided to take advantage of the time, but I can't decide whether to wear the red dress or the black and gold outfit that my mom gave me and I need the help of an expert. You have seen both, which one do you think suits me better?

Spencer was quiet for a moment, processing the situation she was going through, and it wasn't until you said his name that he reacted.

"I like your red dress," he murmured, with a sad smile that you clearly couldn't see. He couldn't believe you were going out with a man you'd never mentioned and it affected him more than he expected you to be asking for advice because a pang of jealousy shot through his chest.

You were telling him that you were going to have a date on his birthday.

“I thought the same! I guess that will be the best option."

"I guess…"

"Where are you now? At home?" you kindly asked. Your tone almost made him angry.

“I just got off work. I'm on my way to take the subway"

"Oh, excellent. Today there were no cases?"

"Not fortunately. I'm glad to know that the criminals at least respected my birthday."

With that said, there was a deathly silence between you, to the point where he wondered if you were still on the other end of the line or if you understood what he was implying.

“Spencer, my God, I…”

"It's okay if you forgot," he said, trying to play the matter down, but the tears that were beginning to accumulate in his eyes indicated otherwise. The guilty tone with which you had spoken was more than enough to know that, probably, if he hadn’t mentioned it, you wouldn’t have done it either "Nobody remembered it"

"I'm so sorry" you practically sobbed "Between all the work and stuff I... I don't even know why I forgot, forgive me”

"It’s okay" he replied. But it wasn't okay. 

“Can I do something to fix it? Whatever, you just… ask me what you want and I'll do it. I swear," you mumbled, sounding desperate.

He tried to convince you that there was no problem with it and you continued to pour out apologies, which Spencer knew were worthless now but he wasn't selfish enough to ignore them. He wanted to scream, cry, or do anything to get that weight off his chest and even though he loved the sound of your voice right now it was the last thing he needed.

“Anyway, I'm about to enter the subway and uh, I have almost no signal there. I'll call you later, okay?" the question didn’t wait for an answer, because he immediately added: "Good luck on your date, bye"

If he had considered going out to celebrate, he knew that now what he urgently needed was to go home or he would break down in tears in the middle of the street. The ride on the subway lasted longer than he would have liked, as he longed to go to sleep and find out if it would allow him to forget a bit about the shitty day he had just had. When he was finally in front of the door with the number 23 in gold letters, he struggled enormously to put the key into the lock, because the tears in his eyes were already clouding his vision, and he believed that the heaviness on his shoulders wouldn’t allow him to advance.

The key turned one turn, then another, and then Spencer was allowed inside the house.

One week before…

The team was meeting in the conference room at the request of Penelope, who had asked everyone to stay after the scheduled time, waiting to receive the news of what they thought would surely be a new case.

"And Reid?" Morgan asked, noticing the empty chair next to him, because they had seen him leave and that was reason enough to have questions about his absence.

"I'm glad you asked because this meeting is related to him," Garcia replied. With the push of a button, a face appeared on the main screen and almost everyone present was surprised to see who it was "She is Y/N Y/L/N, do you remember her?"

"You were at Prentiss's funeral, right?"

"That's right" you replied with a smile, looking directly at the aforementioned "I still have a little trouble understanding, uh... that whole thing, to be honest" you joked.

"Y/N asked us for this space to discuss something related to Spencer's birthday, which will be next Friday" explained Hotch, who was the other member who was already aware of the matter "The microphone is all yours"

"Okay, so where do I start? It's great to see all of you and I hope you're doing well. Every year I visit Spencer on his birthday and we spend the day together, but since this year is his 30th birthday I wanted to do something special and I want to know if you would be willing to help me”

"Tell us your plan, precious"

“I don't intend to take up a lot of your time, it's simple. I will call him today to insinuate that this year I can’t go and all I want you to do is pretend that day that you don’t remember that it’s his birthday”

"Wait, why do you want us to ignore it?" JJ muttered with a frown.

"I want to throw him a surprise party in his apartment" you explained with a smile and then the request you were making to them didn't sound so farfetched "You can tell him you have plans that day and if he mentions something you just say you can't go. I bought my flight for that day and I will be in the city starting in the morning, so I can prepare everything”

"And how will we do if he invites us somewhere?"

Morgan suggested using a decoy for him and pretending they were taking him somewhere else, but you balked at the idea.

“I have all my hopes that he doesn’t mention anything. If so, we'll manage somehow. And I know that asking for that is difficult because we are all his friends, but if necessary, avoid him completely that day. We need him to know under no circumstances that we have a surprise for him."

“He is very smart and he will figure it out. If we make him believe that we forgot he will concentrate on that” you argued. Although the others didn't want to admit it, they knew that you had a point there "I just hope you don't have some unforeseen case or something like that, because I would hate for that lie to be for nothing"

You discussed some more until you concluded that your plan was the most viable. The girls would help you with ideas for decorations and David even offered to buy all the drinks. Although the others weren’t surprised by his generosity, you were slightly upset, but this didn’t prevent you from accepting the offer and thanking him in advance.

“It really means a lot to me that you guys help me, thanks” you murmured happily, once everything was settled, and then your phone started ringing in the background “It's Spencer! I have to answer him. If something happens, you guys will tell me, right?"

"Take it for granted" smiled Garcia, who was the one who had lived with you the most, but everyone supported her from the bottom.

"Fine, thanks everyone, thanks Agent Hotch, I'll see you later!" you said goodbye, hanging up the video call and simultaneously answering the phone.

Everyone got up from the conference room and Rossi was the first to speak, a smile on his face.

"Call me crazy..." he started to say "but something tells me that girl and Spencer are going to end up together"

"The pretty boy loves her, but he still doesn't notice it," Morgan laughed, as they all walked out. "Whenever we go to Vegas, his eyes shine when he sees her."

“And she's setting this up for him! It's so sweet" Penelope sighed, who had already taken Derek's arm "But the part about being mean to Spencer doesn't convince me much… he's going to be so sad"

"Look at it this way, babygirl: if he's sad he'll be happier than usual with the surprise."

"Nobody's going to screw it up," Emily threatened them, pointing her index finger at them, and the rest of the team promised they wouldn't.

Meanwhile, your first part of the plan was in the works, with the late-night call he had made to you. You had to admit that lying to your best friend was something you hated, but with any luck it would all be worth it when you could hug him and give him that gift that you had carefully kept on one of the shelves, that you hoped could be enough for such an important event like the first thirty years of life.

What happened during the week is history, which was consolidated at the moment he turned the handle without even imagining what awaited him.

When Spencer walked through the door the first thing he did was turn on the light and he felt like he was going to have a heart attack when he heard the screams coming from inside. There were purple balloons scattered all over the floor, a congratulations banner, a table full of presents, and everyone was there.

The shock was such that he couldn't even manage to say a word and some of the tears that he had been holding back were finally able to come out, but this time for different reasons.

They hadn’t forgotten.

"How…? What are you doing here?"

“We came to celebrate your birthday, genius,” Morgan laughed, as he reached over to hug his friend and ruffled his hair brotherly.

A wave of hugs preceded that and even he received a couple of kisses on each cheek from Rossi, which finally made him laugh. He seemed like a child, completely fascinated with everything around him and still processing the situation.

In the midst of it all, he couldn't help wondering how his friends had been able to enter the apartment, since none of them had a copy of the key and the landlady was too suspicious to have let them in just like that, but he felt happy for the direction the day had taken.

“First of all, we have another surprise for you,” said JJ, obviously excited. The rest shared complicit glances and García began to record with his cell phone, which made him a little nervous "But you have to close your eyes."

Spencer looked at everyone else as if waiting for a confirmation of that, and seeing a couple of nods he did what his friend was asking. Just to make sure Jennifer covered his eyelids with her hands and in this way she turned him around, while he wondered what this surprise could be about.

"Are you ready?" she asked and the man answered yes with a hum. There was silence for a second, as if they were checking something, and then she withdrew her hand. "Open them."

Many possibilities went through the man's mind for whatever he would see at that moment, but when he did, he felt his heart stop for a moment. There you were, looking at him with a sweet smile and wearing that red dress. 

The rest of those present were waiting for who would make the first move, because the two of you had froze looking at each other, and García was only pointing the camera carefully as you had requested.

"Surprise?" you said shyly, noticing that Spencer hadn't said anything.

You were afraid that after the call you had he was upset with you in some way, but a second after he recovered from the shock he was already on top of you, holding you by the waist to spin you through the air while you laughed heartily.

"You came," he said, his voice cracking, but completely brimming with happiness.

"Of course I would, Spencer, do you think I'd miss your birthday?"

"But you... your work"

"All a vile lie"

"And that boy?"

“There was never such a thing,” you laughed, freeing yourself from the weight of guilt “You're my only boy,” you added affectionately, palms planted squarely on your friend's cheeks. He still had you in his arms and was grinning from ear to ear at your answers "I'm so sorry I told you all that, I just didn't want you to suspect anything, can you forgive me?"

"No!" he practically squealed and you widened your eyes in amazement “Today was the most terrible day because I thought you didn't care about me anymore, you made me suffer! All of you!" your friend complained, looking away from you briefly to look at those present.

"In our defense, she asked us to," Emily laughed, holding up both hands in surrender.

"You're so mean," he murmured, turning his attention back to you. "But I love you so much.”

A group sigh filled the room as he engulfed you in a hug and from your position you could see the teasing or tender smiles they all had. It wasn't very common to see the youngest of the team in that position, much less saying those things, plus we had to add the collective opinion that you were madly in love.

"Seriously, forgive me"

"It’s okay…" he whispered close to your ear "You're here, that's what matters"

His body felt so soft and safe that you didn't want to stop hugging him, but you knew that if you took too long it would create an uncomfortable environment for the rest, so you had no choice but to gently pull him away from you. The woman asked your friend, just to annoy him, if he liked his surprise and although he didn't say anything, the giant smile and flushed cheeks were enough of an answer.

"Come, you won't escape my melodious voice" you murmured after a few seconds, when the commotion calmed down a bit.

Taking him by the hand, you led him to the table where you had the chocolate cake with a couple of candles that formed the number 30. Everyone sang the song while the wick burned down and the boy looked anywhere, with that certain shyness characteristic of him. When he blew out the candle to make his wish, you all applauded and that started the celebration.

There were some appetizers on the table and Rossi had stocked all the drinks quite well, as he had promised. As the minutes passed you hovered here and there to check that things were in order, arranging everything as if it were your own apartment, and Spencer could only smile at how well you seemed to get along with everyone. The last time you'd seen the team was, sure enough, during Emily's funeral, but that didn't mean there wasn't some history between you.

He still remembered the feeling of shame when in the early years he had asked Gideon for permission to summon someone to the hotel during a case in Las Vegas. It wasn't that he was ashamed of you, but that he was ashamed of having to reveal something so important in his life to his FBI colleagues. The agent didn't object at all, but that didn't spare the man from being grilled by Derek and Elle about which mysterious lady their younger coworker was talking to. Over the years, people left the unit, and others joined, but the constant was always you. Even now, if a replacement happened, Spencer knew that the rest of the team would take it upon themselves to introduce you to said person. 

At some point he felt a tremendous nostalgia for that time and in a chain of thoughts he came to ask himself if working where he did was the right thing to do. Turning thirty was cause for celebration, but for him it was also tantamount to thinking how well he had lived up to the expectations of what he expected to have achieved at this age: How much progress should he have made in the world by now? Was it any use having that brilliant mind that everyone raved about if he was working in a government office? And what about his personal life? He wanted to get married at some point and wondered if he should be looking for love instead of criminals. Even while he was through all this, he wished he could focus on how happy his friends had made him instead of worrying about other things. 

"Up to here I can see the gears of your brain" laughed someone next to him. It was Emily "What's wrong?"

"Nothing" he murmured, shaking his head softly "I was thinking about some things, it's just that"

"You should drink some more, that wine that Dave brought tastes delicious" she smiled, inviting him to come closer to the others to chat.

It was a bit ironic, but completely understandable, that even at his own birthday party he would remain a bit oblivious to the situation. Following Emily's advice, he poured himself another drink and joined the other attendees to enjoy the moment. For hours you laughed and chatted, until the drinks were running out and your drunkenness rising.

The parents of the group were the first to leave and the last was a drunk Penelope who threatened to stay there to sleep, but Derek took it upon himself to guide her to his car to take her home. It was late at night when only you and Spencer were left, amidst all the decorations in the room.

"Peace and tranquility"

"It was too much?" you laughed, knowing that your friend could become overwhelmed by the hustle and bustle.

"No, no. Just kidding"

“And was it okay for you? You had fun?" you asked, referring to the party, as the two of you sat down on the leather couch. The dress you were wearing rose to the top of your thighs and his attention strayed there for a second, so he looked up guiltily; He didn't help the blush on his cheeks that there was your cleavage. 

"Everything was wonderful"

"Are you seriously not mad at me?" you insisted

"No, honey, I'm not," he laughed. You tried to ignore the fact that he had said that to you, since it wasn't something he was used to, and just smiled sheepishly, "I mean, at first I was a little, but now that I understand why you did it, I'm not anymore."

“You are already thirty… you are so old!”

"You are older than me!" he squealed, completely offended, and you responded with a laugh. Although that was true, you looked more jovial than the man, something that a variety of people had taken it upon themselves to verify.

"Now that I remember, do you want to see your gift?"

"Isn't this supposed to be my gift?" The confusion was evident in his voice and you refrained from answering, as you bolted into the room. You came back from there with a box in your hands, which you later placed on your lap with evident emotion.

“I wrapped it myself” you confessed, rather proud of yourself. You had found a piece of paper to cover with drawings of equations and small microscopes that you thought captured the essence of your friend and, of course, now that he had seen it, he had liked it a lot.

The man's fingers drummed the surface under your expectant gaze, and then he winced slightly.

"What's up?"

"I don't know, I think maybe I should open it later…"

"Spencer Reid!" you yelled. It was obvious that he was only joking with you and you knew that by the laugh that escaped his lips. 

Your friend opened the box almost ceremonially and then removed the tissue paper that covered the contents: above all there were two hardcover books, one about the world of fungi and the other about poetry, next to it an hourglass, then three boxes with jigsaw puzzles, a pocket chess game, packets of Reid's favorite sweets, and last but not least, a picture of the two of you in a pretty chocolate-colored frame and a little paper envelope to go with it. One by one he was taking out the gifts and his smile only grew with each object, while he felt his heart grow with love.

"I remember this day" he murmured, referring to the photograph you had chosen. The sky was blue behind you and you were kissing Spencer's cheek, who was smiling at how spontaneous it had been “We were in a park after going to an art exhibition."

“And we bought the most delicious ice cream in the world”

"I differ, I've had better," he murmured, shrugging. The truth is that you thought that the ice cream had been delicious because of the whole panorama of that day, not so much because of the taste itself.

Spencer knew that photo would have to go on his desk in the bullpen, although the taunts he was sure the others would throw at him. Perhaps having you there would serve as a reminder that there was good in the world, despite everything he could see on the job every day. 

“Oh, and I read somewhere that hourglasses help people with anxiety because it's relaxing to watch the sand fall so they can focus on it. I thought you might like it, I bought it at an antique store."

"It's very nice" he agreed, turning the object over and checking that it actually worked "I'll open the note, okay?"

Spencer always preferred that you read his letters in private because if he saw your face and knew you were reading those words he would just cringe, but you didn't seem to share that trait so you agreed to his request. As with the box, he carefully opened the envelope and then pulled out a handwritten note.

I hope you like these little gifts that try to express a huge love.

Never doubt that you are making a change in the world and that you are surrounded by people who love you, including your old neighbor who now ironically lives too far from you. 

Happy 30th birthday to my favorite person in the entire world. I am confident that many more years will come for both of us.

Always yours, Y/N.

"Don't cry, Reid" you asked gently, feeling your own tears at the edge of your eyes. Spencer smiled and leaned in your direction to wrap you in a hug so hopefully you wouldn't notice if he got emotional.

"Thank you" was the only thing he managed to say. 

He wanted to thank you not only for that day but for years of friendship, years of feeling like he wasn't so alone in the world if he had you by his side and even thank you for treating him like a normal kid when no one else did. And as always, you perfectly understood what he was referring to.

You stayed like that for a few minutes; Spencer tucked into the crook of your neck and cooing at the throbbing on your pulse line, and you basking in the warmth of the contact.

“Did you like the puzzles?” 

"Yeah! They are great” he replied, as he moved away from you so that he could observe you “Do you want us to put one together?”

“Sure” you smiled “Just let me put on my pajamas and I'll be right back, okay?”

"Good. You look very beautiful in that dress, by the way. I don't know if I forgot to tell you” he flattered you, making you smile sincerely. 

"You chose it, remember?"

Before getting up you kindly squeezed his cheek and after changing your clothes you returned to where you were. He had chosen the puzzle with the design of a Monet painting and spread it out on the floor, where the two of you settled comfortably.

Your friend took a bunch of pieces and you took another and you guys worked in silence until little by little things started to come together. He was very good at the task and very soon he already had a considerable part assembled; although you were going a little slower you followed a constant rhythm. 

"Hey, Spencer"

"Yeah?" he asked, too intent on finding a place for the piece in his fingers to watch you.

“What was your birthday wish? When blowing out the candles”

"Oh, I didn't wish for anything"

"Why?" you asked confused.

Spencer looked up from the puzzle and smiled at you.

"Because my birthday wish was already right here"

It seemed obvious to him, but it took you a second to understand exactly what he meant and when you finally did, your eyes gave him the sweetest look of all.

You and your friend stayed up all night until the play was over and after that you both stumbled to bed, where you fell fast asleep in each other's arms.

At some point Spencer half-opened his eyes, prisoner of a bad dream, and when he was aware of the situation he felt the peace he needed. After that it didn't take him long to get back to sleep, with a smile on his face and his whole world held in his arms.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove

[daydreamerwoah]

Love Through It All Pt. 3

tw: mentions of cheating, mentions of divorce, hurt, angst, anger, crying, sadness, therapy/counseling

I don't condone cheating at all. But I know every marriage and even relationship is different. What one person might do in a situation, another might not do it..... Every time I write something, I'm always writing with the thought of the main goal being OC or in this case 'Y/N' ending up with the man I'm writing about (in this case it's Ghost). So this is going to be angst... but Y/n & Ghost are going to stay together at the end of this little story....

If this upsets you, pisses you off, or you hate it... I'm sorry :( Sort of my first time writing angst like this, so send me the feedback plsssss.

ALSO - I'm not a counselor or therapist, so please note the "session(s)" that Y/n and Ghost attend may not be how therapy actually is supposed to go, but for the sake of the story let's pretend it does.

It was weird. Strange. Confusing.

A few days had passed since you agreed to go to counseling with Simon. You tried not to, but the ghost of a smile that formed on his lips when you said you would go had you feeling so many emotions. You hated yourself for it. You also hated yourself for how you loved that Simon wanted to work on your marriage and himself.

He came home early every day in those past days, even if you two didn't have dinner together. Even if you two hardly talked to each other, he was at home. It was odd. Walking around in your own home trying to ignore him, and it was eating him alive.... and you too.

On more than one occasion, he would sit out on the patio with you, even if you didn't say anything to him. You honestly wanted to talk to him, but that felt too foreign; too prohibited. Couples that were going through divorces couldn't be so domestic, could they?

It wasn't until the night before you went to counseling that your coworker, Ava, begged you to go have a drink after work that you found out if other couples had gone through something similar. You tried your best to avoid her questions, but she read you like an open book, asking what was going on. When you finally broke down in tears and told her everything, she hugged you tightly as any good friend would do. She even told you what she had gone through, and you were shocked to learn about her and her husband's almost divorce story.

Like Simon, he had cheated and it tore Ava apart. While it wasn't the exact same situation, the pain was still the same. But she encouraged you to do what you wanted to do, and that was the difficult part.

"You want to stay wit him don't you?" she asked with a sad smile.

You nodded, "I love him so much. And I know it's so stupid. I'm an idiot. But I don't know if I can... it hurts so much."

She hushed you before more tears fell, "Y/n.... I know it's hard. And I know that other people might say you're crazy if you stay with him... but they're not you. They're not married to Simon. You have to do what you think it's right for your heart........ and if it turns out differently, then it's your life. Not his. Not mine. Not anybody else."

She spoke with so much conviction, you sort of felt happy for a split second. It was what she was told when she was going through those same feelings.

"I just wish he would have told me." You sniffled, looking down at the empty glass on the table in front of you.

She hummed in thought for a moment, "You know what I think you should do?" she asked, making you look up at her again, "Make him realize what he was missing while he was too busy with her."

"Huh?"

She nodded, "Yep. If he couldn't see that you are the only woman he needed, then show him."

Your eyebrows drew together, "How?"

A devilish smirk formed on her lips.

When you arrived on base the next day, you were beyond nervous. The Military Police at the front gate looked at you in confusion when you showed him your ID, but you were too busy trying not to vomit on your clothes. The clothes that you finally decided to put on after debating for over an hour over putting them on or not. Ava's idea of making Simon realize how much you were the only woman he needed was to start showing him how much any other man could and would try to take you from him.

"Your clothes," she told you. "And.... the way you act. It's time to bring out your dark feminine side."

Your what? You hadn't even heard of that before.

It was a stupid idea, but one that would work because while you normally got dressed in your usual casual work attire at first, Ava called you that morning and made sure you wore that outfit she made you buy last night before going home. It was a hassle to hide it from Simon, who was sitting on the couch when you arrived, but you somehow did.

The light and flowy clothes you always wore were switched to a more tight-fitting and sexy outfit while still keeping it chic and appropriate because you still had to go to work afterward. The icing on the cake was when she told you to wear heels; sexy heels. You even wore makeup - mostly to hide the dark circles under your eyes - as you didn't wear it often. And god did it work....

When you got out of your car and walked the short distance to the front doors of the building, several soldiers passed you, not even trying to hide the fact they were staring. Even a soldier who held the door open for you to walk into the building stared, trying to hide his gaze by offering if you needed help finding something or someone.

Simon was sitting, waiting in the lobby - like he texted you a few minutes ago - so you declined the random guy's offer as you looked around for your husband. He stood up before making his way to you when he heard your voice, but he found his feet walking slightly quicker when he saw a man standing in front of you, glancing up and down your figure. When your eyes met his, the corners of your lips turned up slightly, partly because you were nervous, the other part because you had never seen him at work before.

But Simon's eyes cut away and landed immediately on the soldier next to you, and when the guy looked at who he knew as Ghost, he gulped. "Need something, Sergeant?" Simon asked, his voice short and blunt and a tad bit irritated.

The Sergeant shook his quickly, "No sir." He glanced at you then back to lieutenant, "Have a good day.... sir," he quickly said before scurrying down the hallway.

It was funny. Simon used to tell you that he intimidated people, and while you sometimes saw it when you were out in public, you never saw him do it at work. Watching that soldier leave hastily drew a small giggle from your throat before your eyes met your husband's brown orbs once more.

Simon was thankful that when he worked, he wore his hard shell skull-printed mask. It maintained his anonymity both on missions and on base. But in that moment he was even more thankful because it hid his facial expressions as he looked over you, taking in your outfit. Something definitely changed in what you had on. You had never wore work clothes that seemed... sexy and slightly revealing.

"You look beautiful," he sincerely said before he could even process his thoughts. You were going to work... like that?

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked back at him. You heard the way he said it. Like he was trying to figure out how to take in what you had on. "Thank you," you whispered. You glanced down at your wrist to look at your watch, "We should head in."

He gave you a nod, before guiding you down the hallway to the chaplain's office. You tried to ignore the burning feeling in your chest as his hand rested on your back while he walked slightly behind you. Like he was keeping you in his view, but letting you know he was right there with you. He did that all the time so what was so different about it now?

Steading your breathing, Simon came to a stop and informed it was the chaplain's office. You nodded, nervously licking your lips before he turned the handle and allowed you to go in first.

With brief introductions out of the way, you, Simon, and the chaplain - Lt. Jones - sat in his office. You and Simon were on the couch, while he sat in the chair across from you two. It was awkward, and you felt your heart beat rapidly in your chest while Lt. Jones opened his notebook and took out a pen to write.

"Now I know this can't be easy for both of you... but I'd like to start off by telling me how you came to the decision to seek counseling yeah?" He began.

You fidgeted in your seat, briefly glancing at Simon before back at the chaplain, while your husband swallowed the huge lump that formed in his throat. A beat went by, and you almost thought you'd faint from how anxious you were, but Simon spoke up.

"I.... cheated on my wife." He breathed out, and it hurt when you heard the pain in his voice.

Fuck. You weren't even five minutes into the session and your eyes were already tearing up. It hurt more than you wanted it to hear him say it out loud; that he cheated on you. For the past few days, you had been ignoring him because you weren't ready to hear those words from his mouth. But now you had to. You had to if you wanted to get past this.

Lt. Jones wrote something in his notebook, and you and Simon both glanced at his pen moving across the page, "And you two want to work through this yeah?"

You opened your mouth to speak, but Simon spoke before you, "Yes."

However, the chaplain noticed the way you fidgeted once more on the couch and closed your eyes. He glanced at Simon then back to you, "Mrs. Riley?" He asked. The name; your name. Hearing that alone made a tear trickle down your cheek. Simon glanced at you and god did he want to reach out and touch you, but he was afraid you'd yank away from him.

"I-I want to-" Simon couldn't help the tiny smile that began to form on his face, but it dropped when you continued, "-but.... I don't think I can."

"Why is that?" the chaplain asked.

You glanced at Simon, seeing his eyes already locked on you. Even with his mask on you could see the sad expression in his eyes, "Because... I know how this ends."

Both Lt. Jones and Simon looked at you in confusion, Simon more so than the other man.

"What do you mean ma'am?" Jones asked.

You tried to keep the tears in, but talking about your past was never easy to do. You had only briefly talked about it to Simon before and it was very much just saying that your last relationship didn't work out but you never said why. But now..... you didn't want to lie to a chaplain; a priest. So you continued. . .

"I always get hurt. Always-" you glanced down at the floor in thought, "-my last relationship... I was cheated on. The one before that I was cheated on. It doesn't matter." You sniffed, making the chaplain hand you a tissue which you kindly took, "At some point I just have to accept that I don't belong in a relationship, let alone a marriage."

"Y'never told me that," Simon interrupted, his voice soft.

You shrugged, "It doesn't matter... you still would have cheated Simon," he visibly swallowed the lump in his throat, "I get it... I'm not enough. I've never been enough. Not for you. Not for-"

"That's not true." He cut you off. You could hear the frustration in his tone.

The chaplain also heard it and decided it was good to step in, "Lieutenant.. please let her finish. It's good to get feelings out when you want to work through things. Especially something like this."

He sighed, nodding as he glanced back at you. You hadn't even looked up from the spot on the floor before Jones told you to continue. But you knew Simon would interrupt you once more at what you were going to say next. And that made you cry more.

"The only difference between now and the past is that I'm not getting my ass beat," a sour chuckle left your throat.

"What?" Simon asked as his body tensed greatly.

The chaplain even looked at you in a way that was...guarded?

"Mrs. Riley, what do you mean by that?"

You looked up at him, "My last relationship.... when I found out he was cheating, I confronted him about it. And it just resulted in me in the hospital."

Silence.

Nothing was heard as the two men looked at you, eyes wide, even if Lt. Jones tried his best to remain expressionless. Simon, on the other hand, was fuming in his head. Some dick at the audacity to put his hands on you because he got caught cheating? He wanted to find the douchebag and kill him... but you never talked about your ex; never said he hit you - his wife. He didn't care if that was before he met you, he was thinking of all the ways he could find the guy and kill him.

"Is that why you think you can't work past this with your husband now?" You nodded, and Simon couldn't help his words from slipping.

"Y/n I would never hit you-"

You finally looked back at him, "I know that. I know you won't. Still doesn't change the fact that you don't love me anymore."

"I do-"

"Stop it Simon," you pushed.

Thank god for Lt. Jones who was good at his job. He knew the conversation was going to turn into a back-and-forth bickering spree so he stopped you two before it got to that point.

"If you two want this to work through this-" he began, making you two look at him, "-I recommend that you both continuing counseling with me. Let's start off with twice a week yeah? One day will be an individual session, and the other will be together." Simon glanced at you before nodding his head in agreement. A deep frown formed on your face at the feeling that you wanted to continue this. You had to if Simon was going to give you the papers. But you also really wanted to work on your marriage. You sighed before nodding your head, making the chaplain give you both a soft grin. "I know it's not easy. Marriage. But just knowing that you even came in here today, shows me that deep down you want to get past this together."

Lt. Jones eventually dismissed you both with a tiny bit of homework to do before your next session the following week. Emotions were all over the place for you and Simon. While you were busy worrying about the battle between wanting to stay with your husband or leaving, Simon was beating himself up. He had done the one thing that he honestly never thought he would have. He was just like his father, and that thought alone made him want to vomit.

You were almost to the front doors of the building when Simon's gloved hand gently grabbed your wrist, turning you back to look at him. His eyes were on the brink of tearing up, but you knew he wouldn't cry... not at work. He didn't say anything for a moment while he looked at your face, eyes flickering to the quivering of your lip and your redness of your eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me?" was the first thing he said.

You almost rolled your eyes, but instead you focused on his boots, "Because it's not something I like to talk about. It was a long time ago, and I was stupid to stay with that bastard," you whispered, "But it doesn't matter what happened Simon. Would you have done anything differently if I told you?" Your eyes snapped back up to meet his as you pulled your wrist out of his grip.

He didn't respond. You couldn't see it, but his jaw tensed greatly under his mask. Would he have not cheated? You couldn't be sure... but you also couldn't think about it because a high-pitched voice interrupted your conversation as a woman strolled up next to your husband.

"Ghost..." she said as she looked at him, "I was looking for you earlier. They said you was busy."

Ghost. The way she said his name made your eyes snap towards her as she glanced at you. Simon didn't even acknowledge her for a second, eyes still on you, before he looked at her. His jaw was flexing under his mask so hard he thought he would break his teeth. And by the way her eyes widened at you before she awkwardly looked at your husband, you felt something stir in the pit of your stomach.

You tried to lie to yourself. You really did. But the jealousy swam through your body as you looked at her. It was her; the woman from the video. And by the look on Simon's face when he looked at her in disgust only confirmed it.

"Uh I'll just see you later alright?" she quiet said before quickly walking away down the hall.

The universe was truly against you wasn't it? Out of everything, you didn't expect to actually see the woman in person. The woman who - even in her uniform - was a beauty. You always admired the beauty of women, complimenting a woman when she looked nice or anything. But you hated the way she looked; hated the way the makeup looked on her.... because she was gorgeous. And because she was everything you weren't.

As she walked away, Simon didn't even turn his head to look back at her, his eyes trained on you. But you looked. You leaned your head to the side to watch as she glanced at the two of you before turning a corner down the hall, a slight frown on her face. The anger that bubbled in your chest had you turning on your feet and walking out of the building to your car, making Simon walk after you.

"Sweetheart," he tried calling out to you, but you picked up your pace, wishing the ground would swallow you whole. "Y/n..." he reached out to you again.

You spun on your heel so fast you thought it would break, "It's her, isn't it?" He didn't respond, "Her?!" you raised your voice a little, making him close the gap between you.

"Love please don't do this," he begged, keeping his voice down since you were standing outside.

"Do what?? What I should do and leave?" you felt like you were about to burst with anger.

He grabbed your arms, pulling you into him even further, "No. Please Y/n... Sweetheart, I swear I'm so sorry for hurting you. I wanna make this right."

"How Simon? How can you even make this right?" you choked on a sob that escaped your throat. "I can't do this right now. I need to go to work, Simon."

You pulled away from him, his hands longing for your touch as you walked to your car and got in. Before you pulled off, you hated that your eyes immediately found his and you wanted to punch the window so bad. Instead you steadied your breathing and drove off to work.

Simon watched as you left, fingers flexing as he fought the urge to punch anything that was in his sight. Pvt Williams had just returned from a mission with her unit, and he knew exactly where he was going next as his eyes darkened with intense anger.

Yep. This will officially be a short story I feel like. I have so many ideas running through my head. Working on part 4 currently.

[iisasarcasticlittleshite]

Honey, Sweetie, you're an Idiot

Mammon spoils his human rotten.

At least once a week for the past few months, a package appears on MC's bed: jewellery, clothes, lotions and shoes and just about everything they can think to have ever looked at.

Mammon parades them about town often, both proud and flustered to be walking around hand-in-hand, and everything they even glance at ends up in their room; to the point of being utterly ludicrus.

No matter how much MC loves the thought, they're running out of room and more importantly, the amount of Grim he must be spending...

After yet another box greets them on their bed, holding a sleek watch they'd glanced at two days ago, they decided enough was enough.

MC closed the solid wooden box and strode out of their room, determined to figure out why the Avatar of Greed is spending his every dime on them.

Mammon's in his room, reclined on his couch, feet kicked up on the arm with his DDD in his hands.

"I already told ya, I ain't gonna-Oh! MC don't sneak up on me like that!"

MC arched a brow, kicking the door shut behind them. "I did knock."

"We-yeah, but ya didn't say it was you." The demon pouted, though he surely thinks he's brooding.

He sat up, making room for MC at his side, their latest gift cradled in their hands. Mammon's eyes darted to the ornate box, fidgeting nervously.

"Ya don't like it?"

"That's not it, I really do like the watch. It's just...you bought me a lot of things. Like, a lot of things."

"Yeah, so what?" He plucked nervously at a loose thread in a cushion, eyes firmly averted and cheeks growing pink. "Ya like 'em, don't ya?"

"I do, but you must have spent so much money..." They trailed off, looking for the words with which to explain how guilty when he splurged on them.

"So? Ye're....you're worth it 'n' all that." The demon mumbled so quietly they barely heard him at all.

"But there's so much! You don't need to buy me everything I look at, I don't need all of these things." MC explained, sliding closer, watch box put aside behind them, reaching for Mammon's hand.

Mammon gaped at them, eyes wide as he took in their earnest expression. "How else's a guy s'posed to tell ya how important ya are?"

MC recoiled, the conclusion sinking in all at once. Mammon spoiled them rotten with gifts because he doesn't know how else to express his affection.

"Besides...you deserve it all. I'm just a-a scummy demon."

As the truth sank in, MC took a breath, and started laughing, full on belly laughing until they had to lean on Mammon to keep themselves upright.

"Wh-HEY! Whaddya think ye're laughin' at?!"

"Mammon-" MC grinned, hands on his shoulders as they pushed him back, laying him on the couch and climbing on top of him, smiling as he turned bright red and barely held their eyes, "-honey, sweetie, light of my life...you're an idiot."

Mammon didn't get a chance to object as his human dipped, stealing his breath in a kiss he was absolutely not ready for, and lost himself too helplessly.

Their lips were more heaven than anything in the Celestial realm had ever been, their body warm under his palms as his hands dipped naturally over their hips.

When they pulled away, he was met with the sight of the sweetest smile and a twinkle in those beautiful eyes he could stare into forever.

"I do not need the gifts or the money or the fancy dates." MC purred, resting their forehead against his, fingers tangled in his snowy hair. "All I need, is you."

Speechless, all over again he can't find a single word to express the way his chest tightened, his heart two sizes too big.

MC giggled, peppering his cheeks with kisses until Mammon spun them around, planting his human firmly on those couch cushions, greedy eyes taking in the sight of them beneath him.

"You want me? Ya got me, gorgeous."

[regiawrites]

And There Will Be No Tenderness - S.R

Warning(s): Sub!Spencer, Fem!Dom!Reader, Brief Overstimulation, Riding, General Idiocy Word Count: 6134 Summary: Y/N and Reid never see eye-to-eye, but one kiss changes everything.

Garcia hustled into the conference room as quickly as she could with the height of her hot pink pumps, fiddling with the remote as she moved. "Good morning, my lovelies," She greeted the team. "Sorry for the hurry, but this one's a bad one."

"When are they good ones?" Rossi asked dryly as he flipped open the manilla folder in his hands.

"An excellent point," she granted, "but this one is particularly bad." 

She clicked the remote and a series of gruesome images appeared on the screen, so gruesome, in fact, that even Hotch's face twitched. Four women, clearly dead, were covered in blood, bruises, and an array of other injuries, although no two seemed similar.

"These unfortunate four are Kerry Whittingham, Jasmyn Willis, Carly Smythe and Louise Fresca," Garcia said, gesturing to each of the women as she did so. "All of these women have been missing for between 6 and 11 months, all reported missing by their families within a week of them vanishing."

"How have they been linked together?" Morgan asked. "They all have different causes of death." 

"Yeah," Y/N agreed. "Kerry Whittingham was evisceration, but it says here that Carly Smythe's cause of death was drowning. What's the connection?" 

"That is where things get really bad," Garcia said with a grimace before clicking the remote again. 

Four images of matching symbols appeared, each woman having the same mark burned into their wrists.

"Are those brands?" Y/N asked, horrified, making brief eye contact with JJ who mirrored her expression. 

"Human trafficking, maybe?" Emily suggested and Garcia nodded. 

"The local police department thinks so, yeah." 

"So, they're being sold-" Y/N started, but was cut off by Reid scoffing 'Obviously'. She shot him a glare but spared him no response as she continued. "-and showing up dead. Are there any signs of sexual abuse?" 

"Only on Jasmyn Willis," Garcia answered.

"So, they're not being sold to be sex slaves," Y/N guessed. "They're being sold to be killed."

"Or they're just being sold to whoever's interested," Reid contradicted, as he always did. "I doubt a human trafficker cares." 

"But they WOULD," Y/N argued with a roll of her eyes. "If they were being traded for sex, the trafficker would be more concerned with keeping them alive." 

"Y/L/N's right," Hotch said, and Y/N shot Reid a smug smile that he ignored. "A trafficker would want to keep the women alive so they could continue to bring in money. They're likely being kidnapped and traded with the sole purpose of being tortured and killed." 

"What like some kind of sick eBay for serial killers?" Rossi asked, face twisted in disgust.

"That's one way of looking at it," Hotch sighed as he stood. "Wheels up in 20."

As the team filed out of the room, Y/N glared at Reid as they walked towards the bullpen. "Stop contradicting me at every chance you get, asshole!" she snapped at him, and he raised an eyebrow.

"You know," he started, "research suggests that those who frequently use curse words are less intelligent than those that don't."

"Oh, shut up, Reid."

"Most likely due to a lack of adequate vocabulary," he continued.

"Shut up, Reid."

"I'm just saying, maybe you'd be less insecure about me 'contradicting' you if you-"

"If you're about to imply I'm an idiot, I will hit you," she told him, glaring up at him as they reached their desks. She leaned down to grab her go-bag from beneath her desk.

"You're also very quick to resort to threats of physical violence, which further suggests you have a lack of trust in your own intellect," he said, grabbing his own go-bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

"Don't profile me, Reid," she said, voice flat and unamused, before she turned and headed out. 

Trailing after her, Reid said, "I'm not profiling you; I'm making an observation about a coworker." 

"And your observation is that I'm stupid?" 

"I don't think you're stupid," he said with a shrug, and Y/N narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him.

"You don't?"

"You're a qualified profiler, you can't be stupid," he said. "I do, however, think you're reckless, untrusting of yourself and quick to jump to conclusions." 

"I'm not untrusting of myself," she argued, though she couldn't say she wasn't reckless. She was notorious for thinking with her heart and acting on impulse.

"If you weren't, my contradictions wouldn't bother you." 

"That is so not how that works!" she snapped. "How would you feel if every time you said anything, someone was like 'uhm, actually'?" As she said 'uhm, actually', her voice slipped into a high-pitched, nasally lilt, and she mimed pushing glasses up the bridge of her nose.

They reached the elevator, and continued to bicker as they stepped inside.

And for the whole elevator ride down. 

And for the whole walk to the jet. 

Mercifully, the pair sat at opposite ends of the jet, and didn't talk to each other for the flight, so the team had some peace.

 ***

Within a few hours, the team was set up in the conference room of a police station in Pasadena, Captain Ray Jenkins sitting among them. He was a tall, portly man with a thick moustache and a heavy brow.

"So, the suspect you have in custody had DNA matching two of the victims in the back of his van?" Y/N asked Jenkins.

"Yes, and he also had Carly Smythe's engagement ring in his glove box," he told them, showing them a picture of a diamond ring. "He's remaining silent, though." 

"I'd like to talk to him," she said, and Jenkins nodded. From somewhere beside her, Reid snorted, and she turned to glare at him. "What?" 

"I'm shocked you want to talk to him, is all," he commented with a tight-lipped smile. 

"Why would I not want to talk to a suspect?" she demanded, and he shrugged. 

"Talking involves patience. And tact."

"Oh, 'tact' says the most awkward person I've ever met," Y/N snapped. "I've had to watch you talk to women before, you don't have much tact then." 

Reid turned to face her straight on and level her with a glare, but Hotch held a hand up. "Don't start," was his only warning, effectively shutting them both up. "Y/L/N, you talk to the suspect." 

***

Kyle Hannigan was skinny.

That was the first thing Y/N had noticed about him as he sat across from her in the interrogation room. 

Skinny and short.

There was no way this man kidnapped those women, at least not on his own. 

"You didn't kill those women, Kyle," Y/N said, leaning on the desk between them, flipping through the pictures. 

"That's what I've been saying all this time," he huffed back, testy. As irritated as he sounded, he looked unnerved as his eyes flicked to-and-from the photographs of the mutilated women.

"You don't even know who killed them, do you, Kyle?" she pushed.

"No!" 

"I don't even think you touched them," she said, fighting back a smile when he raised a questioning brow at her. "I mean look at you-" she gestured to him, "-you're short, you're skinny. Jasmyn Willis was 5'9 and a weightlifter, she could have fought you off blindfolded." Kyle's jaw ticked at the insult, but he remained silent. "You're just the delivery driver." 

He stared at her, dark eyes looking up through his brows.

"So, if you're just the delivery driver, who got those women into the van, Kyle?" she asked. "And more importantly, who's running the operation?" 

He continued to stare at her, silent. 

"You know, whoever's above you in the food chain is absolutely going to let you go to prison for this," she told him. "Hell, they probably want you to take the fall. You gain nothing by protecting these people." 

"It'll be my word against his, and no one will believe me over him," he said, low and slow, leaning towards her with a glare. "So, what's the point?" She, too, leaned forward and matched his fiery glare with a cool, flat stare.

"Your word against who's, Kyle?" 

His eyes flicked towards the one-way mirror behind her, then back down to her, and she didn't miss the desperation in his eyes. 

He wanted to tell her.

He looked up at the CCTV camera positioned in the corner of the room.

"Who?" 

He continued to stare at her before raising his right hand, forming it into a claw shape and tapping it to his shoulder.

"That's all you're getting out of me," he said, before folding his arms over his chest.

***

"A claw shape that he tapped to his shoulder?" JJ asked. "What does that mean?" 

"It's ASL," Reid said matter-of-factly, pulling out his phone. 

"And what's it ASL for?" Jenkins asked him, and Reid shrugged. "I thought you were a genius."

"That doesn't mean I'm all-knowing," Reid said, simply. He began typing something into his phone.

"Great load of good that is, then," Jenkins grunted. "What do we do now?" 

"Our tech analyst is looking through his cell phone history to see if there's any suspicious activity that could be an accomplice," Hotch informed him, but Y/N didn't pay much attention to Jenkin's reply as her phone vibrated. 

She unlocked it and, surprised to see a text from Reid, she looked up to give him a questioning look, but he was pointedly not looking at her. Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, she tapped on the notification and had to force her face to remain neutral.

Reid: It's ASL for Captain.

And that was how Reid and Y/N found themselves snooping around Jenkin's office, looking for incriminating evidence. After forwarding Reid's text to Hotch and Garcia, she slipped into his office, followed by Reid.

"This is not how we're supposed to do this!" Reid hissed at her as she rifled through one of his drawers while he kept watch. "Nothing you find like this will be admissible in court."

"Yeah, yeah," she grunted, closing the drawer as quietly as she could before opening the next one down. 

"We're going to get caught." 

"Not if you do a good job keeping watch, we won't," she said, reaching for a drawer with a lock on it. She pulled and it didn't budge. "Shit, it's locked," she mumbled, looking around the desk for a paperclip, which she found in a small plastic cup, and bent it into an L-shape. 

"What are you doing?" Reid whispered, panicked and stepped away from the door.

"Keep watch!" she hissed back, wiggling the paperclip around and managing to twist the mechanism, unlocking the drawer. "Aha!"

"Why am I not surprised you can do that?" Reid asked, not looking at her. She glared at the back of his head.

"Because I'm a cornucopia runneth over of useful skills," she snarked as she started digging through the drawer. 

"Sure, that's why," he said, but she paid no mind as she started flicking through a folder she found. 

"Holy shit, Reid, I got something," she said, and he spun around to look at her.

"What, really?" he asked, walking over to her and she tilted the folder so he could see it. "Is that-?"

"Carly Smythe, yeah." 

From Y/N's hands, Carly Smythe's bruised, but very alive, face stared back at them from in front of a dirty wall. She was only wearing a white tank top in the picture, and her hair was flat and greasy, eyes hardened as she glared at the camera.

This picture wasn't a part of the investigation.

The picture was stapled to another sheet of paper, one with messy writing scrawled over it. 

Carly

24

140lbs

5'6

Brown eyes

Brown hair

No Tattoos

Limited known sexual history

Sweet voice

$10k min

$33k to Poseidon

"Oh my God," Reid muttered. 

"She isn't the only one either," Y/N said, flipping through the rest of the pages, through profiles of several women, including the four known victims. "We have to get this to Hotch." 

Before Reid could say anything, they heard Jenkins' voice coming from somewhere outside. Y/N's heart dropped.

"You were supposed to keep watch!" she whispered accusatorily at Reid, who sputtered out a response she didn't listen to as she lifted her shirt and shoved the folder into her pants, covering it when her shirt fell back down.

"What are you doing?" he asked her, eye flicking Wilding between her and the door as Jenkins' voice got closer. 

"Smuggling this out of here," she said, like it should have been obvious.

"And what excuse are you going to give him for us being in here?" he demanded, holding his hands up in distress.

"Kiss me," she commanded, and he choked.

"Excuse me?"

"Kiss me!"

And he did.

As the door handle turned, he surged forward and their mouths connected, lips crashing together. 

Reid grabbed Y/N's hips, pulling her body towards his as his tongue glided over hers, taking her by surprise as he took complete control of the kiss. She slid her hands into his hair, tugging it at the roots.

He whined into her mouth, and all higher thought ceased in Y/N's mind.

Pulling his hair harder, she kissed back with a punishing harshness, vaguely registering her ass hitting the desk as Reid pushed her against it, sliding his hands from her hips up to her waist, around her back and pulling her back against him. She caught his bottom lip between her teeth and tugged on it, making him whimper in a way that had her whole body heating up in response. 

"Ahem." 

Gasping, they tore away from each other and spun towards the door to see Jenkins smirking at them. "I don't think that's an appropriate workplace activity, Agents," he commented, and Y/N grinned in faux sheepishness. 

"Sorry, it’s all new," she said, pushing Reid away from her less harshly that she ordinarily would. "We can't keep our hands off of each other." 

"I won't tell your Captain, don't worry, sweetheart," he said, a look in his eye as he turned his gaze to her that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

Both Y/N and Reid managed to get out of the room, and the folder shoved into the front of Y/N's pants felt like it weighed a tonne.

It took less than 24 hours before Jenkins was on the other side of police custody, coughing up information about his clientele.

Six days later, four other men had been arrested for the murders of the women, and had several other murders linked to them.

Three weeks later, the Team had busted a huge ring of human trafficking. 

One month later, Y/N was still thinking about that kiss. 

Each member of The BAU had been rewarded (read: forced to take) a two-week period of leave after the events of the bust. Morgan had been shot, Rossi had a joint dislocated and, all-in-all, it was an incredibly stressful time.

Five days in and Y/N was going stir-crazy from both the boredom and the haunting thoughts of Reid’s mouth on hers. Every so often her mind would wonder to the plush look of his lips, or the intense furrow of his brow, or- when she was particularly out of control- the whine he’d made against her lips when she pulled his hair.

By day seven, she’d exhausted her Netflix subscription and had purchased Disney plus.

By day nine she’d nearly finished The Golden Girls and was out-of-her-mind bored.

As Dorothy made a snide comment, Y/N’s phone notification went off, and she practically jumped on it in all her enthusiasm. Her enthusiasm promptly dissipated when she realised the text was from Reid, and she rolled her eyes.

Reid: Are you busy?

You: No why?

Reid: I’m bored.

You: Okay and?

Reid: Are you telling me you’re not?

You: Well obviously but I didn’t text you to complain about it

Reid: Can I come over? Everyone else is busy. I’ll buy you pizza.

You: I can buy my own pizza

Reid: It tastes better when it’s free, no?

You: Fine you can come but if you don’t have the pizza I’m not letting you in

Reid: Deal. I’ll be there in an hour.

Oh, God, Reid was coming over.

She tidied up her living area, even rearranging the throw pillows on her couch before looking down at the ratty T-shirt she was wearing and had been wearing for a least three days. She debated leaving it on, but your skin tingled unpleasantly at the thought of Reid seeing it and she reluctantly decided to change.

But she couldn’t change into clean clothes without showering.

And if she was showering anyway, she may as well shave.

But if she shaves without exfoliating, she gets ingrown hairs.

That dangerous train of logic is what compelled her to take an ‘everything shower’, listening to music while she pampered her skin and ridded herself of all body hair. For Reid of all people too, to add insult to injury. He probably wouldn’t even appreciate it, not that she’d give him the chance to appreciate your silky-smooth legs, but still. Some acknowledgements of her immense efforts wouldn’t go amiss.

She stepped out of the shower and slathered herself in vanilla-scented lotion, before dressing into a simple pyjama set consisting of loose (but very short), plaid shorts and a black tank top. The doorbell rang just as she slid her feet into her slippers. Checking the clock, she rolled her eyes when she realised it had been almost exactly one hour since his last text, the punctual motherfucker.

She shuffled to the door and looked through the peephole to make sure it was actually Reid, snorting at the way the lens disfigured his face in a bizarre perspective, before letting him in. “Reid,” she greeted, as neutrally as she could when she wanted to tear into the pizza box that he was holding. It wasn’t lost on her that it was from her favourite local place.

“Y/L/N,” he responded in much the same tone, stepping in and slipping his shoes off and revealing a mismatched pair of truly bizarre socks, setting them on the shoe-rack beside the door. He’d known her for long enough to know she absolutely did not tolerate shoes inside her home, and she tried not to feel fond.

“That pepperoni?” she asked, jerking her head towards the pizza box.

“Obviously,” he said, shooting her a distinct look of irritation, like she’d asked a stupid question. “Hey, I don’t know your life,” she snapped. “You could be one of those freaks that like Hawaiian.”

“You know, it’s widely considered fact that the components of balanced flavour are ‘salt, acid and sugar’, so by that logic, a Hawaiian Pizza would-“

“Oh my God, you’ve been here less than five minutes and you’re already doing the thing,” she groaned, taking the pizza box from him and walking to the living area.

“What thing?” he asked, following behind her.

“The ‘uhm, actually’ thing!” she says, plopping down onto the couch and setting the box on the coffee table. He rolled his eyes again and sat down next to you, not deigning to respond.

Silence settled over the two of them.

Dying for anything to relieve the awkwardness, Y/N leaned over to grab a slice of pizza, aware of Reid’s eyes on her. She turned to shoot him a questioning look, but he didn’t meet her gaze and pointedly stared at the TV.

Fuck, his jaw was sharp, and his neck was an elegant arch.

An echo of his desperate whine ricocheted in her head for a moment as she stared at him.

Such a sweet noise from such sweet lips, pillowy and plush against hers. If a kiss was all it took to wring noises like that from him, she couldn’t help but be curious what noises he’d make if she put her hands places that weren’t his hair...

When he swallowed and cleared his throat, she snapped out of her stupor and chewed on her slice, turning back to the TV.

Half an hour later, neither of them had said anything. At some point, Y/N had taken the half-eaten pizza into the kitchen, and bought back a bottle of water for Spencer, who nodded in gratitude, but the awkward silence remained.

They snuck glances at each other, but it became apparent they didn’t know how to be civil with one another.

“So,” Y/N started clumsily. “You done anything interesting on your leave? “I- uh-“ he cleared his throat “-Re-read some of my favourite works in their original languages, I wanted to see if they held any nuances that got lost in their translation.” “Interesting,” Y/N said. “I imagine that killed time for about a day.”

“Yeah, it didn’t take long,” Reid laughed quietly. “I’ve spent the rest of the time writing to my mother and watching Doctor Who.” “It’s a good show. Tennant is the superior Doctor.” “Naturally,” Reid agreed, shockingly enough. “Although I’m partial to Eccleston for nostalgic reasons.”

“Who’s your favourite sidekick?” “Donna Noble,” he replied. “I think she had the most character, and her personality complimented The Doctor well.” “I thought Martha was cool, too,” Y/N said. “Even though she was obviously just a rebound for The Doctor to try to get over Rose.” “Some of my favourite episodes are from when Martha was on the show,” he told her and she smiled, smally at him.

“Really?” “Yeah! ‘The Waters of Mars’ was incredible!” Y/N felt her heart flutter at the way his eyes lit up and his mouth broke into a wide grin, deciding to ignore it. “Oh, God, that’s the one where the water’s poisoned and makes the people at the station into- like- zombies, right?” Y/N asked, twisting around in her seat to face him properly. “That freaked me out. Like the one in the library.”

“Where River Song is first introduced?”

The conversation flowed with an ease that was unfamiliar to them after that, and it turned out they had a lot more in common than either of them thought.

It wasn’t long before they were sifting through Y/N’s streaming service subscription, settling on a horror movie they were both fond of.

The Fly.

“You know, even with the clunky visual effects, this movie is still incredible,” Reid commented quietly, not looking away from the screen.

“Probably because it’s a romantic tragedy more than a horror movie,” Y/N said. “It doesn’t need to rely on visuals, the story-telling does most of the heavy lifting.” She turned to him. “Although the ‘clunky visual effects’ are better than some CGI I’ve seen recently.” Reid laughed at that and nodded. “Yeah, I can’t argue with that,” he said.

This was too weird, and it was making Y/N itch. It was making Y/N come closer to giving in to the urge to press her mouth to his.

“Shocking,” she said, drily, trying to shift their dynamic to what it normally was. “You usually contradict me every chance you get.” Reid stopped laughing and cast her a side-ways glance.

“I’m simply correcting you,” he said.

“My asshole you are,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “And don’t start with the whole ‘people who curse are less intelligent’ shit, or I will throw you out, pizza and all.” “And to think we managed to have several civil conversations,” he groaned, taking a sip of his water and rolling his eyes. “Well, it was nice while it lasted.” “I’m being perfectly civil,” Y/N said, knowing full-well that she wasn’t. “Just admit that you get off on proving to everyone that you’re smarter than them.” “You have no idea what I get off on,” he snapped, turning to her. When their eyes met, time stilled for a moment.

She’d never noticed before how his deep, brown eyes flashed gold in the light.

“What do you get off on then?”

The question had escaped her lips without her permission, and she abruptly snapped it closed as they looked at each other with wide eyes.

“What?” he asked wearing a look of pure shock, like he didn’t even believe he’d heard her correctly.

“Nothing!” she practically squawked, looking away from him and ignoring the feeling of her cheeks heating up.

“Did you just ask me what I get off on?” he choked out, looking incredulously at you as you awkwardly looked at him, looking away again immediately.

“Pfffft, no,” you lied, stupid as he’d clearly heard her.

“You totally did!”

“Okay, so maybe I did,” she admitted. “It kinda just slipped out, I don’t actually wanna know.” “Don’t you?” he asked, voice dropping into a husky tone she didn’t know he was capable of.

She gaped at him, not even knowing what to say. “I-“

“I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me since we kissed,” he told her, leaning forward. “Your eyes keeping dropping to my lips, and your pupils dilate when they do.” He leaned in closer to her. “You also keep absentmindedly biting, licking and playing with your lower lip when you look at me.” “…So?” she asked, not denying it. They both know he was too good a profiler to lie to, especially about something he’d observed himself.

“So, you can’t stop thinking about it,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper. “And you want to do it again.” When she didn’t say anything, he moved closer to her, so close, in fact, that they could feel each other’s breath puffing onto their faces.

“Do you want to know why I really asked you if I could come over tonight?” he asked, lips so close to hers it was agony.

“Why?” she asked breathlessly.

“Because I want that, too.” She gave in.

With both of her hands on his cheeks, she dragged him the extra inch forward and slotted her mouth against his, swallowing down a keen that threatened to bubble out at the contact. His long, deft fingers gripped her waist and pulled her closer to him, and she followed his pull as elegantly as she could to land in his lap.

Immediately, and like she’d been wishing she could do for a long month, she sunk her fingers back into those brown curls and tugged. The soft noise he made against her lips was hardly the high-pitched whine that had haunted her, but it was enough to make her double her efforts, pressing her body against his and kissing him with poorly hidden aggression. He matched her sudden ferocity, sliding his hands around to her ass and squeezing hard enough to have her breath stuttering out of her chest. When he chuckled against her mouth, she bit down on his lower lip, just a quick tug in between her teeth, but it was enough to make him gasp, and she took that as her opportunity to pull his head back by his hair and look down at him.

Eyes blown out, cheeks flushed pink and his lower lip already kiss-swollen, he already looked like a mess.

“God, I want to fucking ruin you,” she hissed, grinding down over his hips and grinning wickedly at the firmness she felt against her. He whined, his eyes flicking upwards momentarily before he refocused on her face. “Please do,” he gasped, rocking his hips up against her, gripping her ass again.

“Already begging?” she teased. He glared at her, but it was hollow, before he reached up to grab the back of her neck and drag her to his lips again.

When their lips crushed against each other’s, Y/N’s hands immediately started to rip at Reid’s shirt, almost ripping the buttons off in her haste to get it off him. He whined into her mouth at her aggression, reluctantly taking his hands off her to slide the sleeves of his button up off his arms, leaving his chest bare to her. She raked her nails down his chest, trails of pink following her fingertips, and he arched into her with a sweet keen. She pinched his nipple with one hand, and he gasped. Taking his surprise as an opportunity, she slid her mouth across his jaw to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses down his neck, pausing to bite and suck at the sensitive juncture between his neck and shoulder.

“Oh!” Reid moaned, thrusting his hips against her particularly hard at the overwhelming sensation. “Oh, God, Y/N, please.”

“Please what?” she taunted, continuing to leave marks on his neck, and continuing to tease his chest. She ground her hips against him far more firmly, speeding up her steady rhythm. “I don’t- I- Oh!” he struggled, breaking off into a whimper before he could get the words out.

“If I knew that this was all it took to get you to shut up, I’d have done it sooner,” she said, laughing cruelly when he glared at her. Still choking out a chain of whimpers and whines, he slid his hands up her tank top, cupping her breasts, long, deft fingers pinching her nipples harshly in retaliation. She squeaked, shocked, turning to him with her own glare. He gave her a paradoxically shy little smirk, proud of himself, and it infuriated her.

When she pushed herself backwards, down his legs and away from the bulge in his pants, he whined in protest. She pulled his zipper open, shoving the soft fabric of his boxers to pull his cock out, hot and heavy in her palm; it was bigger that she thought it would be, definitely bigger than average, and delightfully thick.  “Oh, God, what are you going to do with me?” he asked, voice breathless and desperate as he tried to buck into her hand, whining when her weight on his lap meant he couldn’t drive up enough to get any real friction.

“I’m gonna use you,” she told him, stroking his cock deliberately slow, squeezing around his sensitive head.

“Oh, fuck!”

“Until you can’t even think anymore.”

Nodding enthusiastically and gripping her hips, he tried to drag her back towards him, but she tsk’d. She placed a hand on his chest to push him onto the couch and used the leverage to stand up. Slowly, she began to push the waistband of her shorts down, the way he stared at the movement as though hypnotised flooded her brain with a heady feeling of power. “Reid?” she cooed, and it looked like it took a tremendous amount of effort for him to drag his eyes from her hips to her face.

“Ye-yeah?” he stuttered out, almost absentmindedly reaching for his cock and fisting himself in a loose grip. She bit her lip as she watched the tentative movement. “Do you have any condoms?” she asked, hoping to God he said yes. The hope was foiled when he looked at her with an expression of panic.

“No, shit, no, I don’t,” he huffed, and she could see him calling himself an idiot in his own head.

“Fuck it, I’m clean and on birth control,” she said. “Are you-?”

“Yes, I’m clean, Y/N,” he said, a pleading look on his face. “God, I’ve been thinking about this for a whole month, please don’t make me wait.” Ordinarily, she’d tease him, but seeing as she had felt exactly the same way, she finished sliding her shorts down her legs, leaving them on the floor as she straddled him once again. She pushed her hips down on his, grinding her wet pussy over the throbbing heat of his cock and they both gasped. “Please, don’t tease,” he begged, looking up at her with the saddest puppy dog eyes. “Just fuck me, oh my God, please.”

“Eager,” she teased and slapped her ass in retaliation, making her yelp and jolt forward, making her wetness slide over his cock once again. She started grinding down deliberately hard to get back at him.

He threw his head back and gasped, and she took that as a chance to start sucking and nibbling on the column of his throat.

It didn’t take long before he was whining in that sweet, sweet way that made her head spin. “Please!” he whimpered desperately, pushing his hips up to meet her movements, and she relented. Pulling away from his neck, she lifted herself up before sinking down on his cock.

“Fuck!” “Oh, God!”

He was fully inside of her, stretching her out in a dull ache as her adjusted to him. “Fuck, you’re so big,” she mumble, gently starting to rock as the ache lessened. He didn’t respond, and the glazed look in his eyes made her question if he’d even heard her. He grabbed her ass, kneading the firm flesh in a way she thoroughly appreciated.

Slowly, she started bouncing, and he screwed his eyes shut, whimpering quietly at the almost overwhelming feeling of her hot, wet pussy squeezing him. “You feel like heaven,” he whispered, jaw going slack as she started moving faster.

It didn’t take long before they we both panting, flushed and desperate as the moved against each other. At some point, Reid had wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in the crook of her neck, licking and sucking and biting wherever he could reach.

Y/N sunk her hands into his hair, gripping it tightly to keep him there as the brutal pace she had set brought her closer to the edge. The way he was practically sobbing into her neck told her he was close, too.

“Reid,” she panted, pulling his head away from her neck by his hair. He looked up at her, flushed cheeks and mouth hanging open, eyebrows hitched and eyes watery. He looked so fucked out she couldn’t help the pride that rushed through her. “Are you close, baby?” she asked him with a cruel smirk, and he nodded pathetically, crying out when she gripped his hair tighter to cease the movement.

“Please,” he begged. “I’m so close!” “Don’t you dare cum before I do,” she hissed, leaning back a little so the hand that wasn’t in his hair could rub her clit.

“I’m trying, I’m trying, but you feel so good! Ah, ah, please cum, please cum, please cum!”

His begging, desperate and needy, pushed her over the edge, her fingers on her clit and his cock filling her up as she toppled over the precipice of her orgasm. She cried out his name as her walls shuddered around him, dragging him over too. He cried out, louder than he had before as his orgasm wreaked havoc on his body, his legs shaking and tears finally dropping onto his cheeks. He babbled an incoherent stream of pleas as oversensitivity kicked in, crying that it was too much as she rode her own orgasm.

Her bouncing slowed to a still and she fell against him, both breathing heavily and flushed.

It took several minutes for both to catch their breath, and for coherent thought to be functional again.

Y/N hurried into the bathroom to clean herself up and tried to not spiral into panic; not only had she has sex with a coworker and totally violated the fraternisation policies at the bureau she’d had sex with Reid. Worse, she realised she didn’t regret it. She should, but she doesn’t, and she has never believed in being guilty about things that don’t warrant guilt.

She supposed it was harmless, really. Honestly, if they had this new way of working out their animosity towards each other, they’d probably be more pleasant to be around.

So, really, fucking him was for the good of the team.

Yeah, I’m totally doing it for the team, she told herself as she finished cleaning herself up.

When she left the bathroom and returned to the living room, his shirt was back on his body and his cock was tucked back into his pants. He was sitting there looking so awkward it was painful, and he didn’t look at her when she sat beside him.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” he said quietly, and she sighed. “No, we shouldn’t have,” she agreed. He nodded, eyes not moving from his hands where they were folded in his lap. “So, what now?” he asked.

“I have condoms in my dresser,” she offered, laughing when his head shot up and he looked at her so incredulous it would have been offensive if it wasn’t so funny. “You don’t want to do it again?” “No, no, I do,” he rushed out with pinkening cheeks. “I just didn’t think that you’d want to! “Well, I do,” she said matter-of-factly before standing up and walking towards the bedroom. When he didn’t immediately follow, she turned around with a raised eyebrow. “Are you coming or not?” she asked.

Reid had quite possibly never moved so fast in his life as he followed her giggles to her bedroom.

[sinfulpanda16]

Someone Better?

Hitoshi Shinsou x fem reader

"There's someone else I like."

Those words kept playing back in his head over and over again. Kirishima had asked you out earlier, you didn't tell him, but he found through Kaminari. Why the hell did you reject him? Kirishima? That man has everything the looks, the strength, the personality, you two would look so good and perfect together it pissed Shinsou off.

He was walking you home like usual but he couldn't stop thinking about what Kaminari had told him. He was looking down at the ground when he spoke up "Hey, so I found out that Kirishima asked you out." he says and then turned to look at you.

You're taken aback a bit by him, how did he know? Kaminari was there when Kiri shot his shot so he probably told Shinsou you figured. You relaxed a bit and giggled. "Oh yeah he did" you replied a bit shy after remembering that moment.

He fucking caught that. The little blush growing on your face, probably at the thought of Kirishima. Oh no. Did that mean...no. He mustered up the courage and asked "So, how'd it go? Did you say yes?"

You laughed softly. "Oh no. I rejected him."

"No? Wait why?" he asked. He was relieved of course but at the same time a bit shocked. A lot of people would love to be with someone like Kirishima.

You turned away and looked at the ground "There's someone else I like." you smile softly and continue "Someone I really like and I want to be with him."

Its quiet for a bit, you turned to look back at him. Shinsou was already looking into your eyes. He gave you a small smile, you returned his smile and he tells you "I'm happy for you Y/N".

Shinsou grunts as he finishes his last set on the bench press. With one last grunt he pushes the barbell up and he's done. He sits up all sweaty and panting. Damn his workout was so good, letting out his jealousy. He smiles to himself "Fuck Y/N. You know how to get me fired up."

He gets up and heads for a shower. He let's the water run in his hair.

"I'm happy for you Y/N."

He runs his finger through his damp hair. No the hell he's not. The thought of you being with someone else makes his chest ache. He wants you to be happy yes but...not with someone else. He wishes you could be happy with him.

That night he layed in bed looking up at the ceiling.

"There's someone else I like. Someone I really like and I want to be with him."

Him. If not Kirishima who? Who the he'll could that guy be? Is he better than Kirishima? He grabs grips of his hair in frustration. There's someone better. Shinsou has always been insecure about his looks, he knows he's not a lady's man, his quirk, with everyone having told him its makes for a good villain not a hero, his strength, he wasn't automatically placed in Class 1-A or 1-B and everything in general. You mean to say that's there's someone who can top all that better than Kirishima? Needless to say, Shinsou fell asleep after a few tears of jealousy and insecurity.

The next day after-school you and him were at the nature park. School has been a bit heavy on yall so you decided some time outside would be relaxing. Shinsou was following behind you, smiling like an idiot watching your cute self lead him to a 'pretty place'. You turn around "You like cute things right, Shinsou?" you ask him.

Yeah. You, Shinsou said in his mind. "Well, I don't mind them." He said chuckling at your question.

A bit more walking later and you both arrived at a flower field. "Tada! Here we are!" you announced excitedly. It was beautiful, the endless sea of flowers. Shinsou stared out into it "Wow. This is pretty Y/N." he said and turned to you smiling. You returned his smile and for a moment it was just you and him, in front of the giant flower field. His purple eyes looking back at your (e/c) eyes, they're so pretty. Everything about you is beautiful, your eyes, your smile, your aura, even your interests were beautiful. Like the flower field you brought him to.

Shinsou blushes and turns away abruptly his eyes landing on a tree. Shinsou smiles, "Hey let's climb that tree. We'd get a better view of the flowers from up there." he says hoping you'd want to.

You bright up "Yes lets! But make sure to catch me in case I fall." you order playfully.

Shinsou chuckles "I'll be right your side don't worry." he reassures you. Smiling softly as you head towards the tree.

You go to climb the tree being careful to not slip. Shinsou was below also making sure you were careful. When you were seated on a branch he starts climbing the tree and sits right next you. The both of you smile looking out into the landscape. "This is nice. Right Shinsou?" you say not looking away from the sunset setting behind the flowers.

Shinsou responds softly "Yeah. I could do this with you over and over again." You blush at his words, you could do this over and over with him too. He was looking at you and he saw you blushing. He did that?

Shinsou takes a deep breath making you turn to him. "Y/N" he says firmly and goes to hold both your hands. You're shocked by his actions but don't pull away. He begins to speak again "You're the only person that has made me feel things no one else has ever made me feel. You make me feel like I'm this strong, well-respected and remarkable man...but... you also make me feel like I'm this weak, undeserving, invalid man. You drive me nuts." What is he saying? You make him feel sad? "This must be what falling in love feels like. Because regardless of the insecurities you bring me back to, I still want to be with you, and I want to only be with you. I want to go far and beyond to work on myself so I can be the best man for you. Y/N..." he brings your right hand closer to his face and places your knuckles on his lips "I love you." he says gently and leaves his lips on your knuckles closing his eyes.

You're shocked "Shinsou." you say softly. He opens his eyes looking right at your beautiful ones. He pulls your hand away "I know there's someone else. Someone else better than me for you, and I have no right to get in between you two but...If you give a chance, I promise to go to the depths of the earth for you. I promise you won't regret it." he says emotionally.

You hold his cheek smiling softly at him and go in for a kiss. Shinsou is taken aback but doesn't pull away. He kisses you back your lips taste so sweet and unconsciously he wraps his arms around your waist.

After a moment you pull away and smile at him. "Shinsou, you're the one I want to be with. I love you too." you say making him forget the insecurities he had earlier, making the happiest man on earth.

"Thank you, Y/N" he replies going in for another to which you happily return.

[cryptic-klepto]

Yall are the Nazi's useful idiots. Block me.

I don't have mutuals because if I give any of you long enough you'll inevitably prove to be Jew Haters. I've blocked half this hellsite because you crypto-fascists masquerading as progressives can't read my pinned post BEGGING you to block me first. "Haha this person posts funny/informative posts. I'll follow them! ...Oh wait they mindlessly eat up nazi and terrorist propaganda like they're fistfuls of shredded cheese direct from the fridge at 2AM. Well nevermind then. Unfollow/blocked." Palestine will not be free or at peace with Israel destroyed and Hamas in control. Hamas has been murdering, raping, and torturing Palestinians for almost 2 decades. On top of that, so many of yall regurgitate nazi conspiracies and blood libel like you are vultures vomiting up worms to feed other mindless pawns of the Far Right. Leftists have been doing more legwork to promote the agenda of fascism than any Proud Boy or Neo-Nazi Gun Club has in years. Do I seem mad? I am mad. I'm mad that those I care about have to start making plans for when their home countries kick them out or hunt them down. For when YOU hunt them down. Not "if." WHEN. They know that they have nowhere to turn but Israel, the one place that has never turned them away. Every single country refused Jewish refugees during World War 2, during to pogroms, during the purges. Every single one. With one exception. Israel. That's why Israel must survive. Because without Israel, the Jewish people may not. They are a remarkably tenacious people, survived everything the world has ever thrown at them. The Romans, the Nazis, the Soviets, everything. But I don't want my loved ones to be in survival mode for every subsequent generation to follow. I want them to be and feel safe. That's what this is about. Safety. Jewish people, AND Palestinians, are being held hostage by Hamas. Women, children, elderly, the disabled. If you want a ceasefire, then they must be released. It's honestly the simplest and easiest demand Israel could make. Return the innocent. And yes they are innocent. They're only crime was not being Hamas, a crime so many of you openly believe deserves the death penalty. You want to free Palestine? Free Palestine from 17 years of Hamas tyranny. Demand that the hostages be released. Only then can their be a ceasefire. You can't expect Israel to just lay down arms while her people are having their heads cut off. Are you stupid or do you just want Jews to die that badly? Don't answer that. Two things can be true. Free Palestine from Hamas. Free Israel from Netanyahu. Release the hostages, negotiate ceasefire. Stop parroting Far Right propaganda. Jump off the bigoted bandwagon. Failing that, STFU and block me. I'm sick of this shit. Eat glass.

[kazumist]

HOW TO CURE A FRAGILE HEART .ᐟ

✩ — how does one cure a fragile heart? well, soshiro thinks comfort and reassurance is the best cure for that. (takes place after the tachikawa raid)

✩ — includes: hoshina soshiro x gn!nurse!reader (they are so back !!!). hurt/comfort. cw: mentions of blood, bruises, hospitals, etc. but it's nothing too graphic, pet names (sweetheart & love). wc: 1085. reblogs and feedback are much appreciated !!

✩ — note: well. like i said in my note for handle with care, i actually wrote a part 2 for these two. but this and handle with care can be read as standalones! they're just set in the same uhm. timeline i guess? if that's what you call it.

your heart dropped at the sight before you. 

it was soshiro getting rushed inside the (temporary) medical area for the medical team. the actual medical building is currently in shambles with the whole tachikawa raid happening, and you didn't get a single update on the vice captain as you were too busy tending to the other patients that keep coming in.

he was all bloody and bruised. blood trailed down everywhere—from his head, his mouth, and his nose. you immediately rushed over, lending a hand in his treatment. this is exactly what you feared. a nightmare that came to haunt you in real life. the sight of soshiro being this injured was enough to make your whole world shake.

but for the sake of saving him, you needed to stay strong.

hoshina opened his eyes and was immediately greeted by the bright light of the room. he automatically noticed you sleeping on the side of his bed, arms crossed, as you laid your head against them. he then took in his surroundings and realized that he was in the hospital. and the bandages around his abdomen don't go unnoticed by him either. his body was still sore from how he overexerted himself during the tachikawa raid.

the sudden shuffle on the bed you were resting your arms and head on was enough for you to wake up, as your eyes widened. “hi.” was all he said before he yelled in pain at your hand, chopping his side.

“are you insane? you idiot! i—god,” you couldn't continue anymore as you could feel your voice cracking already. your hands meet your palms as they proceed to move up to the crown of your head. you refused to look up at the man lying on the bed at the moment.

he hears you let out a sigh—a shaky one at that. soshiro’s expression softens as he reaches out to gently caress your head. you still refused to look at him, keeping your gaze focused on the white bedsheet of the hospital bed. “ya could've at least congratulated me, ya know,” he says. it was a poor attempt at lightening the mood, honestly.

he knows that you already know everything that happened to him when he faced kaiju no. 10. in fact, he has a good guess that you lent a hand in providing first aid to him as soon as he got transported to the medics. 

and he already had a good guess at how worried you must've been to see him in such a state back then. soshiro knows you like the back of his hand; he could read you like an open book. so needless to say, he didn't have to be a genius to know that tears were already pooling in your eyes at the moment.

many thoughts ran through your head. every possibility that could've happened if he wasn't sent to the medics as soon as possible. and every single one of those possibilities terrified you. especially the possibility that he really could've—

you couldn't even bring yourself to finish that dreadful sentence.

he noticed you gripped your hair a little tighter, taking in deep breaths, although your exhale was still shaky like before. soshiro reached out to grab one of your hands, not wanting to hurt yourself with your harsh grip on them. “hey,” his voice was soft.

“love, what's wrong?” he asks.

you could only shake your head, although you let out a sniffle right after. despite his injuries and probably only a quarter way towards full recovery, hoshina was still able to move you closer to him. you could feel it—the steady beat of his heart, his breath at your ears as he reassured you that he was alive. and that he was fine.

(however, what if he wasn't? what if he actually spent his last breath on that training ground? the thought of that almost happening terrified you even more.)

hoshina gently grabs hold of your chin, moving your face to look at him. you hadn't realized that your tears started to roll down your face as you looked at him. he had a bandage on his cheek, and even more bandages around the lower part of his neck and it continued onto his abdomen. a hand slowly reaches up to his cheek, where he had a bandage on, as your thumb caresses his cheek bone.

guilt washes over you when you reflect on your earlier thoughts. why—how could you think like that? soshiro was right here, in front of you. why are you worrying about something that never even happened?

(a voice inside your head whispers that it could happen the next time he steps foot into the battlefield.)

“don't cry, sweetheart. ya know i hate seein’ ya in tears like this,” he says, using his thumbs to wipe away your tears. you lean against one of his palms, relishing the warmth in them. “i just…” you started, choosing the right words to say. “seeing you in that state was... horrifying. i—i couldn't bring myself to move at first before i snapped myself back in reality and helped with treating you.”

“i was so scared, soshiro.” you mumbled, leaning towards his chest. hoshina’s breath hitched at your words, suddenly imagining the possibility of you being in his shoes—he was terror-stricken from that thought alone. he let out an apology like he always does when he comes home to you injured, which you immediately rejected. “don't apologize. i know it's part of your job, soshiro.” you said, wiping your tears away.

he rubs soothing circles on your back and pets your head in return. “look at me for a minute, please?” he wasn’t the one who would say please so easily. but for you, it just comes naturally. you look up and meet his gaze. something was there in those maroon eyes of his—love. and a small hint of guilt as well.

“i’m sorry.” you said.

“why so?”

“because i… i couldn’t help but imagine the worst happening.” soshiro doesn’t need you to say anything more to understand what you meant by “worst.” he puts his forehead against yours and never breaks his eye contact with you. “that’s okay,” he then says. you were about to speak in protest of his words before he cut you off. “that’s okay because i know how much ya care about me, but always remember that i’m here, ‘kay?”

he was right. he was here. and he was fine.

and that’s all that matters.

[queers-gambit]

Save Me From Myself

prompt: ( requested ) in a moment of unparalleled anger, you learn what Joel really thinks of you.

pairing: Joel Miller x female!reader

fandom masterlist: The Last of Us

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: (short as hell at) 1.9k+

warnings: very mild spoilers, there's probably cursing, oneshot (no part two), hurt no comfort, mild angst, shorty shorty short short shorty! author is disappointed in this one, she wanted to give much more.

"Gimme that," you grunted at Ellie, picking her backpack from her shoulder with ease as the shorter young lady protested with a small growl.

"I got it - "

"Take a break," you smiled at the kid, shouldering her pack. "Tell me another one of those shitty jokes you love so much."

Ellie smirked and whipped out her book, flipping through a few pages, scanning the pages, then deciding on one. "What... Is Beethoven's favorite fruit?"

You shrugged, "No idea."

"Ba-na-na-naaaaa!"

You laughed, you couldn't help it. "Goddamnit. That's a good one," you praised, eyeing her for a moment as she silently read down the page. You wondered, "You know, I meant to ask, but why that book in particular?"

"My friend gave it to me... It was a present," she explained softly, seeing your head nod of understanding. "What did one ocean say to the other?"

"Nothing, they just waved," you smirked.

"You shithead," she tisked. "Okay, okay, here's a good one. What's brown... And sticky?"

"Oh, Ellie, don't be gross - "

"A stick."

There was a long pause.

"Oh, you know what? Fuck you," You laughed heartily. "I gotta remember that, I like that one."

"You'll like this one, too. Why should you never trust stairs?"

You knew the answer, but humored her, "Why?"

"Because they're always up to something."

You chuckled, "Good one, kid, yeah. Okay, okay, wait, I got one."

"Lay it on me."

"How do you cut a Roman Emperors hair?"

"How?" She grinned, ready for the punchline.

"With Caesars."

Ellie paused, offering a confused look, "I don't get that one."

You both stared at one another for a long moment, still walking through the cold, dead field.

"You don't know Julius Caesar?"

"No? Who the hell is that?"

You chuckled, "You know what? Just as well, who fucking cares about the Roman Empire when we're living in the end-of-days?"

"It's a decent joke," Joel spoke for the first time in hours; holding his rifle protectively as he lead you both through the wilderness, "for what it's worth."

You smirked at Ellie and teased, "Told you I was funny."

"You used the term punny."

"Both are accurate."

"I think you're just an idiot."

"I think you've got a helluva mouth on you."

Ellie grinned and flipped through her book, your gaze trailing to Joel and eyeing him for a long moment. You've known him since you were 19 and hired to babysit his daughter, Sarah. Joel was everything you could've asked for - loyal, sweet, protective, respectful. You had been at their house, doing coursework for your university program when the Outbreak happened. You did what you could to help protect Sarah, but in the end, nobody was safe, nobody was immune, and Death stretch His hand unto all of mankind alike.

He left only select few, you, Joel, and Tommy being amongst the survivors.

The past twenty years had been anything but easy, and while you had gone into this pandemic together, you and Joel didn't actually stick together the whole time. When you settled in Boston with Tommy, Tess, and a few other nomads, you were exhausted from the brutality you were forced to survive in, and so, first chance you had, you broke away.

Technically, you and Tommy broke away. But still.

Joel turned to a life of shadiness with Tess at his right hand (and on his cock). The two of you becoming estranged, until he saved your ass from a pair of FEDRA agents harassing citizens.

He didn't just distract your assailants, but put them in the dirt, helped pick you up, dust off, check for injury, then escort you home. Once at your apartment, he ensured you weren't hurt and was truly okay, and after that, he was back in your life - like the snap of fingers.

You hated to admit it, but it felt nice having a constant back in your life. Joel was your tether to reality, and without him, you felt akin to a kite with the string cut - useless and drifting away.

After that, you came around a little more to see how much your old neighbor had changed in your time apart. Joel was familiar, he was family; had always been something of a source of peace for you. He was usually protective of your wellbeing - even if he had a strange (and borderline unhealthy) way of showing it - creating a bubble of safety.

You eventually left the Fireflies and met Bill and Frank, venturing out and about with Joel and Tess; the latter of who simply despised you for just existing. She was never fond of you, more so now that Joel was obviously attached to you.

Joel never let her argue about you; he never cared for her opinion nor what assumptions she had. He kept you close, he liked your close; and if she sneered any hateful slander, Joel was swift to push her away in favor of you.

One time, he even literally locked her out of the apartment because she was rude to you and told you to "get lost!".

How could you not feel safe? Comfortable? Secure?

When you made it to Jackson and found Tommy once more, you were overjoyed by his familiar face and scent, but quickly pulled him aside to voice your concern for Joel.

"He's been clutching his chest, walking slower than I've seen before," you whispered to Tommy. "I don't think he's havin' a heart episode, but somethin' ain't right, Tommy. He's not doing the best."

"I'll talk to him," he assured.

You believed him, there was no reason not to. You (willfully blindly) believed Tommy would go about this subject with sensitivity and wouldn't mention your words of concern, but you were wrong. Very wrong. Joel had a known temper and if he caught wind that you spoke his name, even in passing, he would lash out, so, truly, you thought Tommy wouldn't tip Joel off.

The moment you returned "home" (to the house you, Ellie, and Joel were offered), you were met with a fuming Joel and an awkward looking Ellie. "What's going on?" You felt worried, fearing for the worst, asking, "What's wrong?"

"You," Joel snapped. "You're what's wrong."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Joel," Ellie tried with a frown, "she just walked in 0 "

"You had a word with Tommy now, did'yah?" He demanded, ignoring Ellie to focus his glare fully on you.

"Well - yeah - I mean - "

"No," he seethed with narrowed eyes and furrowed brow, "where the hell you get off talkin' to my brother like that? Huh? You worried 'bout me, you say somethin' to me - otherwise, the hell you talkin' for?"

"Joel - "

"You overstepped," he shook his head and pointed a scolding finger at you, "and my health ain't your concern - "

"Of course, it is! Fuck's sake, how can you even say that? I get you're mad, fine, okay, you know what? I get it, I'm sorry if I overstepped by telling Tommy how worried I am, but for the love of God, Joel, I am worried about you because you're not the same man you once were!"

"Are any of us?" He huffed.

"You don't think we've noticed the way you've slowed? How you clutch your chest? I'm allowed to be worried - "

"You know, if you weren't so Goddamn clingy all the time, you wouldn't feel whatever compulsion this is to concern yourself with something that ain't got shit to do with you."

You blinked in shock, feeling disarmed by the harsh tone and bruising words he offered. "Joel, we're both worried about you,," Ellie stepped in again. "Don't be such a dick, she's just looking out for you."

"By involving those that don't need to be involved?" He sneered, glaring at the girl before rounding on you. "From now on, you stay in your place - enough with this - this fucking - this protector bullshit you think of me as. You cling any fucking tighter and I'll suffocate, so back the hell off."

You nodded slowly, watching him storm off; door slamming after him hard enough to make both you and Ellie flinch. "I, uh..." You cleared your throat, "I should... Um, uh, you know what, I'll jusy - uh, yeah, no, I can just... Yeah, I should - yeah."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"You didn't do anything."

"No, but that wasn't very nice of him to say."

"No, I suppose not," you smiled ruefully, giving a hearty, heavy sniffle. "I should, you know, go and find somewhere to crash - "

"Why wouldn't you stay here?"

"I don't exactly like to linger where I'm not wanted," you mused, keeping your tears at bay. "I just need to clear my head for a bit. Go for a walk or something. Maybe he just needs some space, I don't want to be here and upset him more... You two have a mission at hand," you tried to smile, "that's bigger than us all, and whether I see the end of it or not doesn't matter now - what matters is you, Ellie. This petty squabble will pass," you lied, "because you're all that matters. I won't risk further upsetting Joel, gambling with this already sketchy-ass plan and put everything we've worked towards so far at jeopardy."

You both smiled ruefully.

"I know when to walk away," you ended softly.

She nodded, opening her mouth but closing it instantly; knowing you were stubborn enough that she didn't even attempt to stop you. So, she did the only thing she knew she could do: offered her joke book.

"Oh, Ellie, no," you breathed, "no, no, I can't take that, it was a gift."

"And now I'm gifting it to you," she shrugged, holding the book out. "C'mon, just take it, it'll make me feel good knowing you're cracking shitty jokes to yourself - or whoever will listen."

"I can't take this," you whispered.

"Just make sure you stay alive to give it back," Ellie compromised.

"Deal," you smirked, opening your arms and embracing the girl the moment she rushed into your chest. "I'll miss you," you whispered. You promised to see her as soon as you could (so you could return the joke, of course), kissed her forehead, then grabbed your bag, which had yet to be unpacked, and left the house.

You managed to find lodging in the old cantina, and you'd never know that when Joel got back that evening and saw your items gone, he breathed a sigh of relief. In his head, with you gone, it was one less painful reminder of Sarah, the life he had before; and while his mind played tricks into thinking he saw Sarah in town today, he realized you were the constant trigger.

The single strand that kept him in the past.

Constant reminder of who he was, who he wanted to be.

Prevented him from truly moving on.

Though not done in the best or most respectful way, in his heart, Joel knew he needed to shove you into the mud to get you to let go; you saw too much "good" in him. You saw him in the same light as Sarah, and he couldn't handle that; could not fathom that there was anyone left in this world who saw anything remotely humane in him.

So, Joel did what he did best: made his own life infinitely harder by pushing away those who loved him.

requesting rules and masterlist

TLOU masterlist

Clingy Baby masterlist

[edenesth]

MOOT GAME: " make up a trope for your moots and their biases. doesn’t need to be romantic. can be crackfic/funny/anything you want ^ㅇ(๑>◡<๑)ㅇ^ "

Dear Soulmate

I'm sorry it took me so long, anon! I didn't know how to approach this and was waiting for a friend to do it first🙈

For my one and only, my pookie, @itstheghostofmypast💖

Choi San — soulmate au (idiots to lovers)

In a world where soulmates exist, most people discover their other halves before reaching twenty-five, you struggle to find yours, even when he had been right in front of you all along. You've witnessed those around you revelling in the bliss of finding their destined partners, all the while blindly awaiting your own.

"I cannot believe this, I'm dying alone!" you cried.

"Pooks, he'll come when the timing's right, I just know it," Eve, your closest friend and platonic soulmate, reassured you, wrapping you in a comforting embrace as you poured out your frustration. Despite being on the cusp of turning 26, your soulmate remained elusive.

"How did you and Hwa find each other again?" you asked, desperate for answers.

Eve sighed, "Whenever one of us gets hurt, a flower tattoo appears on the other in the same spot of their body. You know how clumsy I am, he found me through those blossoms. But each soulmate pair has their own unique connection. Haven't you felt anything special?"

See, in this world with soulmates, each pair discovers their connection in their own way. There's no universal formula, and you despised that fact vehemently. It only added unnecessary complexity to the already challenging quest for love.

Your parents had found each other through their inner voices, where their internal voices are the other's instead of their own. Your sister had found her soulmate through a compass on her body that led her to where her other half is.

And then there was you. Nothing. Nada. Niente. Absolutely nothing at all.

And as your birthday drew near this year, panic set in. You'd soon be a year older than the age when most people found their soulmates. Maybe you didn't have one, maybe he died, maybe he got aborted as a foetus, maybe—

"Woah, woah, just take a deep breath, everything will be okay," your friend reassured, trying her best to help in any way possible, "Hey, didn't you say you've been having a lot of dreams lately? And it's always that same dream?"

You blew a raspberry in frustration, "Yeah, but I doubt my recent dreams have anything to do with my soulmate, assuming I even have one. They're always about that art museum I go to on weekends. I think it's just because I spend so much time there."

She pondered for a moment, "Wait a minute, didn't you mention that San guy you always see there? What if—"

"Oh, hell no," you exclaimed, shuddering at the possibility of that annoyingly gorgeous mountain of a man being your destined lover, "I'd rather be alone forever than end up with someone like him."

It all happened on a day when you sought solace at the museum after a taxing week at school. Exhausted from dealing with incompetent classmates and antagonistic professors, you longed for a moment of peace as you approached your cherished spot in the corner. But to your dismay, you discovered an ignorant man occupying not just one seat, but the entire bench with his belongings. And not just any bench, your bench, the one everyone knew better than to occupy.

So you did the first thing that came to mind, you might have uttered some unkind words out of irritation. Looking back, you acknowledge it was all very unnecessary, considering it was likely his first visit to the museum and he clearly didn't realise it was your spot. However, your pride prevented you from admitting fault.

Consequently, he responded with equal unpleasantness. Even the museum guards had to intervene before things escalated into a fight. Like dealing with children, they persuaded both of you to share the bench since there was clearly more than enough space for two.

You adamantly refused to yield your spot and relocate, asserting your presence since you were here first. Similarly, it seemed his foolish pride prevented him from budging as well; thus, you both found yourselves locked in a silent standoff, exchanging wary glances as you engaged in a weekly silent war.

"Ugh, was hoping I wouldn't have to see your face today," San sneered, earning a glare from you as you settled down beside him. You were running slightly late, having trouble getting up after yet another frustrating dream, one slightly more annoying than usual.

Deliberately nudging his bag aside with irritation, you narrowed your eyes, "You wish, loser. This spot is mine, and it's staying that way."

He smirked in response, "Someone's in a foul mood, but then again, when are you not? Hope it's not because of that dream where your precious bench gets snatched away for good."

"Shut the hell up—"

You stopped short, a sudden realisation hitting you like a ton of bricks. You hadn't shared that dream with anyone, not even Eve. No one should know about it except... No freaking way. He couldn't possibly be the one you've been waiting for all this time. It seemed too absurd to be true. Why, out of all people, would fate pair you with this insufferable, infuriating, irksome yet undeniably attractive, bastard?

"Surprise, genius. It's me, your soulmate."

"I knew," he confessed, his voice carrying frustration and resignation, "I knew from the moment I saw you that you were my other half. That's why I came here in the first place, why I was in this exact spot."

Your breath hitched as his words sank in. All this time, he had known, yet he had still chosen to engage in your petty conflicts.

"But when I met you," he continued, "I was excited, hopeful even. But your attitude, your stubbornness... it's unbearable. As much as I feel the pull towards you, I can't ignore how immensely annoyed I am by your behaviour."

His words landed like a punch to the gut.

"I know that if I had a choice in who my soulmate is," he admitted, his gaze intense, "it would never be you."

After a moment of processing his words, you gritted your teeth in anger, "Well, joke's on you, buddy. I don't want you either. Maybe it would be best for both of us if you stop showing up here from now on."

Days turned into weeks, and true to your request, San ceased his visits to the museum. At first, you felt a strange sense of relief, but soon, that relief morphed into a tumult of conflicting emotions.

You didn't know how to feel. Did you truly mean what you said, or were those words simply born out of anger? Your emotions were a tangled mess. On one hand, you had just turned away your soulmate after yearning for his presence for so long. On the other hand, you couldn't shake the resentment that it had to be him, of all people. Part of you longed to be near him, to reconcile and embrace your destiny. But another part recoiled at the thought, recoiled at the frustration his presence brought.

Unbeknownst to you, San wasn't doing much better. His heart felt hollow, the absence of your presence leaving a gaping void. He tried to carry on with his life as before, but the weight of your rejection hung heavy on his shoulders. But his pride also kept him from reaching out to you.

He suppressed the pull towards you, buried it beneath layers of denial and indifference. But no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, your essence lingered in his dreams, haunting him with visions of what could have been.

Then, one day, fate intervened in a way neither of you could have predicted. You fell ill with food poisoning and ended up in the hospital. In a panic, San saw it in his dream, a vision of you lying pale and weak in a hospital bed. Without hesitation, he raced to your side, his heart pounding with fear. As he stood in the hospital room, watching over you, he realised the depth of his feelings. Despite everything, he couldn't deny the truth any longer. You were his soulmate, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing you.

You furrowed your brows at his unexpected appearance, "What the hell are you doing here? Who invited you?"

His heart sank at your coldness, but before he could form a response, Eve intervened, giving you a playful smack on the shoulder, "Stop it, you! He came all this way, and you're still going to be mean to him?" Turning to San with a warm smile, she continued, "You must be San! I'm Eve, her best friend. It's nice to finally meet you. Oh, and please don't take her words to heart. She likes to pretend as if she hadn't been dying to see you again."

Blushing furiously at her blunt revelation, you shot her a glare, but she simply tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, "Behave yourself. I'll be back shortly after settling the bill with Hwa," she said, brushing past San. As she passed him, she gave a polite nod, "Please take care of her for me, won't you?"

"Of course, Eve," he replied, nodding in return.

As soon as your friend left the room, he took a step closer, his tone serious, "Listen, I'm tired of playing games. I came here because I realised I can't bear to lose you again. So, tell me if you feel the same right now. If you still want me gone, I'll leave and never show my face around you ever again."

His words struck a chord, and you couldn't hold back the tears any longer. He couldn't resist the pull any longer, sitting down beside you on the bed and wrapping his arms around you. Relief flooded through him as he felt you relax in his embrace.

"I don't want to lose you again either. I'm sorry I was an idiot," you whispered.

"You should be," he teased, planting a kiss on your hair, "But I'm sorry too. Perhaps I should have told you who I was from the start. Let's just... not say things we don't mean and hurt each other again, okay?"

You nodded, squeezing him tightly, "Okay, Sannie."

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[jolapeno]

x. oh, just to be with you

javier peña x f!reader | chapter ten of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: we're back to texts and phone calls. sorrowful!javi, two idiots pining for one another. fluff. flirting. continuous romcom vibes. falling in love. idiots in love. pls don't be mad at me ✨ wordcount: 3k.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

He's aware of everything. 

How the porch creaks when he steps on it, the way the back door doesn’t quite meet the frame unless it’s locked. How the wind is knocking something else, far across the tall grass and fence posts.

Right now, his focus is on how his curtains don’t quite close. That they're letting the thinnest crack of moonlight cascade through his room. How the smallest luminescent slither keeps dancing in the breeze, yet it still lands perfectly on the propped-up photo strip on his dresser, highlighting the two of you, as though he hadn't committed them to memory. 

He can’t remember the last time someone had managed to slide around his walls—bypass his common sense and begin weaving themselves into him. Javi also can't remember the last time he wanted something more than a win.

Then came you.

Not that he complains that you're the exception. He'll never complain when it comes to you. 

Having people close has never been his issue. It’s letting himself fall that he’s forever found hard. He can be a lover who makes a night all about the other; he can be a protector, shielding and doing what is needed. 

It’s the parts after when he feels he clams up. A portion of him constantly weighing up risks, calculating the damage he could cause—either by a choice he could make or others—long before the city that housed Escobar. 

Javi knew his reluctance had stemmed from before he left Laredo, but it was now carved somewhere deeper in him. Something you managed to find with relative ease and cut out of him as if it was nothing. 

All smiles. All radiance and fucking beauty, with a laugh that could make his lips curl even if his bones are aching and his muscles are tired. 

If he closes his eyes, he can almost convince himself that he’s back there, in the hotel room. Because even if you’d never been here, your room is full of him. 

His bag of spilt-out clothes from your time together, slowly letting the scent of your perfume seep out across the room. Your jacket, hung on the closet handle, and the photos and sign you made on his dresser, all perfectly in sight. 

you have nice handwriting  I did try my best, sometimes I get lazy and letters blur together more.  I like how you wrote baby Does this mean I’ve got the whole set now? Cause you like how I say it, how I write it, how I mouth it. 

Even when he had known you’d needed to get some sleep, Javi had desperately wanted to beg you to stay up. Sending back a text here or there, already missing you so much more than he was sure he could handle. 

He felt lovesick. Like the singer in all those songs that make people either stare at a loved one or bite back tears because they lost theirs. Suddenly relating to a sea of them he’s heard on the radio in the kitchen or hummed in the back of his pop’s throat. 

Javi had been happy to see his pops, somewhat surprised he even came out of the house to greet him. But, as soon as his eyes landed on him, he became suddenly more aware of his old man’s age. Noticing the lines on his face, the ones that tell a thousand stories—not all of them he’s sure he’s heard. Curling into the hug he’d barely reciprocated before, unsure how to form the words to thank him for convincing him to go. 

Naturally, he asks about you. 

It’s more of an interrogation if he’s honest. He shows the photos, the ones now on his dresser, watching his pop smile as he continues to answer the array of questions, until he yawns for the tenth time in the space of five minutes.  

“You should get some sleep, Pop.” 

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead, Javi. Tell me more about your lady.”

Your lady. 

Those two words stand out as if they’ve been illuminated in bulbs, twinkling and shimmering. 

now youre back in reality you sure about us  Never been more sure about anything, baby.  just wanted to check  You’re beginning to sound like me, worrying.  left a mark on me  Think that’s fair, you’ve left a lot on me too. Especially my chest.  

“Tomorrow. Promise. The drive took it out of me.” 

But Javi isn’t tired. 

Somehow, he had suspected he wouldn’t be the moment he watched you leave.

For longer than he cares to number, he's struggled with it. Had developed an unhealthy live-able balance of it when he was working, something he managed to keep as a prize in his return. 

Now, it’s different.

There’s an edge to it. As though he's now having to pay back the stolen sleep he enjoyed when he had been lay with you. When he slept with ease and not struggle. Leaving him feeling now like he’s in a lull, a dream. All aware, not in a daze anymore, noticing things he had never given much attention to before his trip out of town. 

You had been so warm, so soft. His fingers gliding up and down your side, soothing you as much as it was him. But, you slept with ease. Falling almost instantly once you'd stopped talking, a little jolt and a soft sigh punctuating it.

Fuck, he misses you.

Thumb and index pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes clenched shut. Unsure how he's supposed to manage, and cope, until the next chance he gets to see you.

Till he gets to hold you in his arms, stare at your smile as it grows across your face or feels the light tap of your hand when he’s teasing you...

Something ugly curls inside of him. At first, soaked in sadness, before it shakes itself and burns bright with annoyance. Irritation. Anger at how unfair it all is. 

How is it, after all, he’s given up—he’s fallen for the one person not even in his state? A person he had to say goodbye to hours ago, for reasons out of his or their control. 

He almost snorts, unsure if it’s due to the tiredness or the reality that after all he’s faced, life would continue to be cruel and deal him such a hand. Tempted to get up, kick off the sheets and pull out the crossword from before he left town.

Javi doesn't. Instead, he closes his eyes, shaking his head—to no one but himself. Because he can't do them without you now. A promise, one given with ease.

He hears the whisper of the wind, the rustle of the trees. Something needling at him that if he wasn't so broken, this would be the perfect amount of quiet to fall asleep to.

Now, it's not the loud of a Colombian city he misses now. It's how your leg slides over his, how your breaths feel on his chest—how you twitch, ever so slightly, as you first fall asleep. 

But, it’s the quiet as to why he hears his phone vibrate, practically darting out of bed, knowing it can only be you. 

why aren’t you asleep?

Because I can't sleep without you. Apparently.

I miss you too. 

I really hate this. I even miss you digging your knee into my hip. 

told you that you’d miss it once it was gone

I feel like telling you that you’re right will mean your head will inflate.

youre right

One day, right?

if I could make that tomorrow I would

You really missing me that much? 

not enough words in the world to describe how much, baby 

Gonna make me cry. 

dont cry I can’t wipe them from here 

So not wise for me to tell you I cried the entire flight home. 

did the person you sit next to seem to mind 

They didn’t say anything until we landed. Then promptly told me that I deserved better. 

so they thought you were broken up with 

I think I may have led her to believe that from the amount I was crying. 

fuck you like me a lot 

I like you a regular, normal amount. 

I don’t think I like you a normal regular amount 

That’s the tiredness talking. 

you know it isnt 

I feel the same. I really miss you. 

I miss you too but you should try to sleep you have work tomorrow 

Okay, but so do you! 

ill be fixing a shed or a pen baby you have to deal with people 

go to sleep and then tomorrow we can call as planned 

You’d told him that you suspected the first day would be the hardest.

Not the goodbye (and that had been fucking painful) but the following day when they were apart. 

Javi hates that you’re right. 

It twists inside of him how much he loathes it—grateful that he gets to push some of his anger into repairing the side of the shed. Hammer meeting nail, again and again. Each time with more fury than is needed, only worrying after whether he’s done more damage to the shed post than pre. 

"Mijo."

He doesn't find a judgemental look, but one filled with sympathy.

His pop not quizzing him, just handing him a beer. A cold one, droplets descending down the can, sliding across his palm and down his wrist—attempting to soothe the boiling blood in his veins. 

“It’ll get easier.” His pop tugs his hat down, shielding his eyes, before staring off into the distance. “When me and your mama first began, we couldn’t see each other all the time either.” 

Letting out a sigh, Javi grinds his teeth. A sea of biting comments lathered on his tongue, all set to pounce, to poison. 

Instead, he kicks the ground, swallowing most of them back. “She wasn’t hundreds of miles away, though.” 

“No,” his Pop says, clapping his hand on his back—both for comfort and likely stability. “But we didn’t have landlines, or tha' other thing you do on y’phone. The tapping."

The tapping.

He doesn't snort, even if it sits at the back of his throat. Burying it in the liquid that slides down his throat with ease.

"Come on, ‘need to head into town, and my truck is acting up.” 

Javi doesn’t question it, why he’s the one sliding into the passenger seat of his own truck. 

If he’d thought about it, he’d have asked why the truck was acting up or why Pop was driving instead of him. But he doesn’t—didn’t. Just let it happen, staring off as the shades of grass pass him by, fingers playing with the cap on the can, twisting and twisting it. 

To fill the silence, he rolls the edges of the can around in his hands. Crunching the sides every now and again, making him wince from the noise. 

Then, he finds himself staring at the fingerprints left in the dust from you touching his dash—eyes catching sight of a hair grip on the floor near his boot. 

He’s rolling it in his fingers when they’re back on the road, silence smothering them until he watches his pop turn on the radio. As soon as it springs to life, it becomes desperate to try and cut through it. The broadcaster mumbles about heavy rain and increased traffic, but he’s lost in a sorrow of sadness all cast by the spell of a good week to care. The fog around him making it hard to see the wood through the trees, never mind the hope through the misery. 

“Dios mio. More trucks passing through now since the bridge opened. Y’noticed, mijo? So many.”

“Hmm.” 

Eyes fixed on the grip, the one more worn on one side than the other—imagining your face, the night when he’d watched you take them out, face fresh, one of his tees on your frame. 

Then, because the world isn’t cruel enough, the song changes. The radio playing a game with him now, as well as everything else, as he lifts his head, trying to focus on the road. Hearing the soft thud of his pop’s fingers on the steering wheel, his jaw tightened as the lyrics washed over him. Faintly hearing you humming along with the chorus.

Because he heard the song in the diner with you. 

Heard it on the radio one afternoon, then again in the bowling alley—how it wrapped its tune around the two of you. 

“Heard our song today,” he says, fingers massaging his temple.

He's thankful his pop said he had plans, the quietness settling over the rest of the ranch.

Before he met you, he dreaded the nights he was left alone. His thoughts gearing up, ready to pounce. The minor differences he could have made if he took a step back and stared at the facts, how he should have noticed how deep the corruption was—how much Colombia was taking from him, bit by bit. 

Now, he tries not to grin when his pop says he’s going out.

When he’s left alone, allowed full reign to talk as loud as he wants to you—rather than being huddled near the phone, whispering like a teenager. 

“Our song?” 

“Yeah.” 

Javi can practically hear you smirk. “And how does that go, charmer?” 

He’s not a singer. Not by a long shot, but he does his best. Humming the tune at first, softly singing the words from the chorus until he trails off.

You snort, before you try to muffle it in a cough. 

“You tricked me.” 

“Maybe. But, just because I wanted to hear you sing.” 

Smirking, he pulls the phone from his ear—shaking his head—before replacing it back to hear you add:

“You have a beautiful voice.” 

“Fuck you, baby.”  

Your laugh rips from you, hurtling down the phone right to his soul—making fireworks explode in his chest and warmth kiss his nerves. 

Because now he can imagine what you look like. Likely head thrown back, eyes closed—nose scrunched a little as your hands grip onto something for leverage. 

And it was beautiful. You’re beautiful—your laugh and your smile. Something he feels he should have said long before now. He’s about to rectify that, when he hears it merge into a sniffle—veering into tears and half-suppressed swallows before a noticeable little sob breaks through—as his throat dries instantly, closing. 

Turning, he places his palm on the fall as he tries to keep his chest from tightening. The knot in his chest, the one he suspects is tied to you in some way, constricts, pulling taught around his lungs.  

“I—I miss….”

You sniffle again, louder. “I've been looking forward to this all day,” you whisper, voice catching, words struggling to fall as sweetly as they usually do. “But, is it bad for me to say that phone calls aren’t the same now I’ve had the chance to be with you in person?”

Leaning his forehead against the kitchen wall, Javi wipes his chin. “Took the words outta my mouth, baby.”

He hears you chuckle, almost both heavily and heavenly, before you ask about his day. 

He rambles because it’s easy too. You listen, lapping up every single thing. Hearing about his trip to town, his pop making jokes—trying, desperately, to crack through the mist that had descended. 

“How was yours?” 

Then you sigh, all tight. You tell him about Aish and her interview, before your voice softens as you begin whispering about the prep you’re doing for your interview. He’s about to comfort you, when you continue about the asshole you work alongside has been taken out for lunch by your boss and that you snagged your favourite pair of tights on a desk.

“But, enough about that—guess what I’m wearing?”

Smiling, he bites down on his knuckle, Javi lifting his head, groaning as he tries to think. “All of your clothes at once? Anything else might short-circuit my brain.” 

“Won’t tell you then.” 

“No. Please. Tell me, baby.” 

He hears you move, and is almost sure he can hear you swallow. “You realise that you’re missing something, Javier?” 

Fuck, the way you say his name. How it drips from your tongue. Laced in lust and swirling down the phone line to his brain. 

He quickly tries to think of his washing, the piles he made—the attempted sorting. And it hits him. His eyes widened, head half-lifting, feeling his eye twitch. 

“Fuck—“

“Yes. I’m sat in that. And underwear, of course.” 

“Hermosa…”

His throat is dry, painfully so. Mind arranging an image of you from the days he spent with you. And fuck. 

“Wasn’t sure this shade of pink was my colour, but I was wrong.” 

Jutting his jaw, he closes his eyes—picturing the sight of you. The underwear he’d had the chance to peel off of you, the way it set against your skin—now, accompanied by his shirt on your arms. The buttons are likely undone, showing off more skin than he can currently process thinking about. 

“It’s nice on my skin,” you whisper, all honeyed. “Be better on my floor.” 

Clenching his fist, he bites his lip. “Baby…” 

“Maybe I’ll show you one day.” 

Snorting, he traces his teeth with his tongue. “You better. Now, tell me about the underwear.” 

“Only if you can answer six across. Clue: now.” 

Mouth parting, his jaw rolls to the side, eyes picking a spot on the wall. Thinking. And thinking. 

“Want an extra clue?” 

“An extra? You're spoiling me.” 

He hears you giggle, low and in your throat. “It’s an Italian word. And, ‘I want to see you… blank—“ 

His eyes flick up, a smile spreading. “Pronto.” 

“Correct,” you reply. “Seven words, silenced. You did this to me when you had your mouth on my—“

“Shushed,” he says quickly, fist clenching, trying to stare at the mark on the wall again, and not let the image of you populate in his head. 

“You okay, baby?” 

Gritting his teeth, he sighs. “You’re devious, you know that?” 

“I think it’s your shirt. It’s making me… flirty.” 

Grinning, he turns on the spot, back against the wall—head tilting up, eyes closing. “I miss you.” 

“I miss you too….” your tone softer, frayed at the edges. “I’m kinda glad I stole your shirt.” 

“Me too. Means I get to see you to steal it back from you.” 

“Off me.” 

It comes out quickly—purposefully chosen, spilt. 

Frowning, he opens his eyes. “What?” 

“Off me. You’ll have to steal it from my body.” 

Grasping the phone, breathing through his nose, letting out a murmured, “Fuck, baby,” under his breath.  

AN: for all those wondering if they'll be together in person again, they will. i am a happily-ever-after kind of writer unless otherwise stated. but it was so important to me that they had a magical week, and then returned to their lives.

[judesmoonbeauty]

Fairytale Final Assessment 1st Anniversary SE: Jude Jazza's POV Premium End ཐིཋྀ

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do NOT post my translations elsewhere. Translation notes are marked with *** Alternate translation is marked with/// Hour Glass Banners Credit: @/natimiles ཐིཋྀ

Running through the bay, I opened the doors of the warehouses with a fine-tooth comb.

(Where the hell is she…..?)

Then I heard a noise in one of the warehouses.

When I opened the door to the warehouse- I found Kate being held tight by the man in the bowler hat. 

Kate: Jude…..and Ellis.

Bowler Hat Man: Jude Jazza! Ahaha, I found you!

Bowler Hat Man: While I was looking for you, I found your lover. And you even jumped in yourself.

Bowler Hat Man: It's as if God is giving me a chance for revenge!

(Your eyes look crazy….)

Jude: You're doin' well for someone who's been the subject of so much dangerous research.

Bowler Hat Man: Thanks to you.

The man in front of me seemed to be moving solely on adrenaline. 

But, this kind of person is the most  troublesome.

Bowler Hat Man: First, I'm going to kill this woman in front of you.

Bowler Hat Man: Then I will kill you, too, as you despair while holding the corpse of your lover.

Bowler Hat Man: Damn, ha-ha-ha. Isn't this the best revenge play ever?

Kate: ……

The gun in the man's hand was pressed firmly against Kate’s temple.

Ellis: …….

I could sense Ellis about to make a move behind me.

Anticipating Ellis’ move, I put strength into my leg to kick the man. 

Kate muttered while being held by the man.

Kate: One. What Jude loves other than people's misfortune and money. 

Kate: It's to make fools like you, who play with other people's lives, to despair.

Kate: So, Jude won't despair if he sees me dead.

Bowler Hat Man: Huh?

Jude: ………

Kate: Two. Jude will never, ever forgive anyone who defaults on a contract.

Kate: And scoundrels who play people’s lives. So you'll never get away with it no matter how you try.

(Yeah, I knew I'd heard that line somewhere…..)

FLASHBACK 

Jude: One. I like other people's misfortune 'n money, that's true, but the thing I like most.……

Jude: Is to make rich people like ya who think they're safe 'n flaunt their power in the world to despair.

Jude: No matter what kinda weakness I may have in negotiations, I'll never forgive a defaulter.

FLASHBACK ENDS

Kate: Three.

(Oh, those eyes again)

While being held in a tight grip and being shown the overwhelming difference in strength, Kate’s eyes never give up.

She looks straight at me and smiles at me with a radiant glow in her eyes.

"Jude, you understand what I'm trying to do, right?"

It’s frustrating but clear what Kate is trying to do.

Kate: I'm not Jude’s  lover, I'm a fairy tale keeper...!

Jude: Haha….

Kate bends down and slips out of the man's arms.

Bowler Hat Man: Huh?

While the man's arms were bare, I kicked him in the jaw with the tip of my shoe.

Jude: Your mouths empty.

I heard the sound of a crushed jaw, but I didn't care, I kicked the man in the stomach several times.

Bowler Hat Man: ..…...Gah……If you're going to do it, do it to the end of ……….

Jude: Who's gonna listen to ya? I'm not gonna let ya die 'n get comfortable.

Jude: I'll politely send ya back to the lab. If ya want to escape again, be my guest.

Jude: I'll play with ya all the time. Only if ya could keep your human form.

Supervisor: Mr. Jude, everyone! Are you all right?

Jude: You'll know it when ya see it.

Bowler Hat Man: Damn…….

Jude: Oh, that face is intriguin'. Isn’t it a good way to kill time?***

Ellis: You're taking him in. I'll help you.

I watched the supervisor and Ellis take the man away with a glance, then turned my attention to Kate.

Jude: Injuries.

Kate: Not a scratch!

Jude: What are ya, a dog in waiting?

Kate: Oh, maybe you’ll look at me?

Jude: Idiot.

As we left the warehouse, Kate stared at the clock tower in the distance and exhaled in relief.

Kate: Oh, thank goodness. It's not after midnight yet.

Jude: What was so good ‘bout it? Ya lost the game. Well, goodbye.

Kate: Well, wait a minute!

Kate: Jude, this!

Kate held out a note. 

Kate: The plan to destroy your trading company is written there, Jude. 

Kate: When I was looking for the classified documents that I had promised, I found that man in the bowler hat.

Kate: I thought it was strange since you’d put him in your lab Jude, so I followed him…..

Jude: This was dropped. So, while pickin' it up he got caught.

Jude: Stupid.

(What, you're jumping into the danger yourself?)

Kate: Well, this is comparable to the "confidential document" that you  requested Jude, isn’t it?

Kate was right, this note that had fallen out had some troubling things in it, it was enough to deliver on the promise.

Kate: As for getting caught, it's my fault. I'm sorry.

Jude: Ya must be crazy because ya almost got killed because ya were scared.

Being a fairy tale keeper is a job title, and it's not something you should cling to.

Kate: Strangely, I wasn’t scared at all.

Jude: …..Yeah?

Kate: Jude, I knew that you’d be there for me.

Kate: I don't mean to protect me or anything, but you wouldn't make a wrong promise to win, would you?

Kate: If I died, the game’s up in the air.

(Ha. She's a real tough princess.)

Kate: Jude. This may be wishful thinking on my part, but…..

Kate: You tried to get rid of me so I wouldn't get further involved and die.

Kate: That's why you made up an enemy that wasn't there at the end.

(Where did she get that from?)

Kate: But it's too late, I'm sure.

Jude:……too late?

Kate: As I said before, I know the people around you, Jude.

Kate: So it's impossible for me to go back to my life.

Kate told me in one breath as she looked at me.

Kate: Well then, how about we just give up and stay together?

(…..give up, huh?)

If I had to turn back, where on earth would I have started from?

The woman in front of me was smiling like she had chosen the depths of hell herself.

Her face was the best I had ever seen.

(You look like you wouldn't die even if I killed you.......There's really nothing I can do.)

(You and me both.)

I gently wipe the mud from Kate’s cheek with my fingertips.

Kate’s cheeks were clean, and my fingers were dirty instead.

Kate: ….Jude?

Jude: ….hey, why are ya clingin’ onto me so tight?

Kate lowered her eyes for a moment, then smiled like a beauty blooming under the moon in the middle of the night.

Kate: I think there are many reasons. But if I had to sum it up in one word...

Kate: Because I want to. I just want to continue being a fairy tale keeper, and be with you Jude.

Kate: Really, just .... That's all.

Jude: How selfish 'n thick-skinned ya are.

Kate: Wait, so you're going to sign it?

Jude: Continue writin’ fairytales. Once again, your lifespan has been shortened, congrats. 

Kate: Oh, thank you very much….!

Kate: I did it. This time I won!

Jude: Why are ya so happy ‘bout shortenin’ your life? Throw away that masochistic perversion and go home. 

Kate: Wait a minute. Let's go home together.

Kate’s footsteps follow behind me.

It’s as if they’re making so much noise, that of if I went to the moon, they’d come after me. 

(A person's life is as fragile as a candle's flame.)

(Trust and a sense of justice are meaningless in the face of malice and murderous intent.)

(Sometimes, no matter how hard we try to protect them, we can't.)

(I understand that to a rotten degree. I know it so well.)

Even so, I wondered why I couldn't push her away when she asked for someone else and came after me directly.

(It's really disgusting.)

(I know.)

(The most disgusting person is the one who thinks it's okay to be with her.)

The bell that sounded at midnight echoed in the air.

Soaring as if it could reach the moon.

Fairytale Keeper Continuation Agreement

Kate hereby agrees to continue as a fairy tale keeper.

Suit yourself. I don’t care if ya accidentally die……

-Jude Jazza 

A few days after I decided to continue as a fairytale keeper.

Suddenly, I received a letter from Her Majesty the Queen.

Kate, your work has reached my ears. Thank you as always.

Therefore, I would like you to evaluate one thing.

I wonder if Jude, who is cursed, is worthy of the crown.

***This question - take it with a grain of salt. I have no clue other than he talks about killing time.

[Previous] [Epilogue] [Master List]

[santaasi]

DANCE WITH ME

pairing: jj maybank x dancer!fem!reader

summary: jj maybank loves the sea, the sandy beach of north carolina and the warm sun. new york is the exact opposite of all this. and he hates it. but she... she changes everything.

warnings: new york au, fluff, slight angst (as usual), but happy ending, miscommunication trope, a little use of y/n, some language, english is not my first language

word count: 5.9k

a/n: first of all, thank u all for supporting my first two works here. I rly couldn’t have expected so much love and support from all of u, but i appreciate it. secondly, I can't write summaries, so i think it sounds kinda shitty. thirdly, it was supposed to be a small blurb, but I was carried away and I couldn't stop. and fourthly, I listened to Slaves - Body on Fire and Katy Perry - Wide Awake while writing this oneshot, so I advise everyone to do the same.

The huge theater hall of the New York School of the Fine Arts was getting more crowded and noisier by the second. People dressed in ridiculously posh suits, as if they had come to a reception at Buckingham Palace, took their seats and from time to time looked askance at the two guys sitting in one of the front rows.

In particular, all those present, as it seemed to JJ himself, looked at him with special disapproval interest. Compared to this bunch of rich bastards who had nothing to do on Thursday night except watch their ‘creatively gifted’ children jumping around the stage in tutus, he looked like a black sheep in his dark jeans, a white T-shirt with unwashed ketchup stains and a cap on. He looked like a total looser, who had missed his shift at a godforsaken restaurant in the Bronx only to watch his best friend’s new girlfriend performance, while everyone around him was showing off their wealth and position. Showing JJ his place.

JJ Maybank had no place in this money-rotten world. And he knew it perfectly well.

And why was he sitting here then?

Just as simple as it is. Because of John Booker Routledge. JJ Maybank adored his best friend. No, not best friend. JJ Maybank adored his brother, John B., who saved him from an abusive and alcoholic father, allowing him to move into his small flat in the Bronx and gave him a chance to make a fresh start.

John B. Routledge was always there for JJ. They spent all the happy and sad moments together, supporting and helping each other. And Maybank, in gratitude for everything, was ready to do anything for John B. Absolutely anything.

That's why he was now sitting in a maroon-upholstered theater chair, waiting for the start of a ballet performance in which John B's new girlfriend, Sarah, had the main role, and felt all these rich jerks staring at him. And it annoyed him.

He was annoyed by all these vain idiots and how they always looked down on guys like John and J, who had to literally fight for their lives in this huge city, while those rich bastards were drinking prosecco on the veranda of their Soho estate.

He was annoyed by the kids of these jerks who studied at these luxurious art schools, a semester in which cost so much that JJ could live happily on this money for five years or even more.

He was annoyed by whole this situation, which literally screamed: “Look at us! We have a lot of money that we spend on stupid school performances, so that our kids would think they're talented.”

JJ Maybank was not envious. It was just that he, a man who had worked his whole life in order not to starve, did not perceive all this creative entertainments as something serious at all. He didn't go to theaters, operas, ballets and the like. For him, it was stupid shows to launder money from these rich peeps. And JJ wouldn't be sitting in this chair waiting for the play to start if it wasn't for John B. John B., who needed his support in this fashionable enemy lair.

Exhaling irritably, catching another look of disgust from some elderly lady in furs, J took off his cap and ran fingers through his blond hair, turning to John B., who was looking at the curtains and tapping his feet on the floor.

“I'm going to take a leak and smoke, okay, John?" JJ patted him on the shoulder before getting up from his seat and heading out of the hall. John just nodded without taking his eyes off the stage.

This guy was obsessed with Sarah. And it's not that JJ didn't understand what his best mate found in a pretty blonde girl, it's just... it's just that Maybank never thought that John B would be all lovey-dovey with some chick that was completely out of his league. Although Routledge always had freer views in this rich/poor hierarchy, while JJ was sure that all the kids born with a golden spoon in their mouths were stuck up bitches not worth his attention.

Of course, Sarah Cameron proved the opposite. As they would say in North Carolina, she was kook on the outside, but a true pogue in her heart. But, as Maybank believed, this was a one-in-a-million exception.

JJ was walking along a bright corridor, trying to find the exit, when he caught a barely audible melodie. The guy followed the sound, looking through the glass in the slightly ajar door leading to a bright, spacious ballroom with large panoramic windows and ballet bars. In the middle of the sunset-drenched hall stood a young girl, who sometimes came with Sarah to hang out with John and JJ, but he never paid enough attention to her.

More precisely, she was too out of reach for a guy like JJ, to pay her attention that he wanted to. She was kind, sincere, her smile could light up, it seemed, the whole world. She always laughed at his jokes, even the dumbest ones. The mere touch of her fingers on his skin made JJ burn as if he were being immersed in a flaming cauldron of hell.

She was incredibly smart, funny and breathtakingly beautiful. Just the sight of her in a small summer dress made everything in front of his eyes fade, leaving only her. She was too perfect in his eyes, like an angel descending from heaven to torment him, JJ Maybank, showing him what he could never have. Making him hate his position and his life. Making him envious of these dumb rich assholes. Because she was too good for a bad guy like JJ Maybank.

And now, looking at her fragile frame, watching the elegant swings of her hands, perfectly honed movements and the flight of her hair from each new spin, JJ's heart in the chest was treacherously squeezed with delight. His breathing, as well as time, stopped, and it seemed to the guy as if the world had stopped too, leaving only her in his field of vision. Neat facial features, flushed cheeks, slightly parted lips, gaze concentrated on the mirror, but as if looking into another dimension. She looked beautiful, flawless... No, she looked divine.

JJ didn't know how long he had been standing in the hallway looking at Sarah Cameron's friend. But as soon as the music ended, and she ran her hand over her hot face, pushing back the hair stuck to her skin. As soon as she raised a bottle of water to her lips taking a couple of sips. And as soon as her gaze fell on the guy on the other side of the door. Maybank immediately came out of his entranced state, feeling caught and ashamed.

Turning around on his heels, JJ walked swiftly to the exit, still feeling his heart beating in his chest at breakneck speed, and her gentle image rises before his eyes. A wave of the hand. Jump. Spin. And again the hand is in the air. Jump… Spin… The music is like the sound of the sea... Her eyes are like warm sand…

The cold February wind hit him in the face and without even thinking, the guy lit a cigarette, looking into the void.

He hated New York and the cold of the city. He missed North Carolina. Kildare with its warm sun and sandy beaches. The smell of the sea, the sound of waves and surfing…

Why is he even thinking about the Outer Banks now, three years after he left without even once looking back…?

JJ Maybank did not return to that room full of these loaded bastards, steeped in luxury and affectation. Instead, he lowered his head and got to their shared apartment on the outskirts of the Bronx, where the rats and the crazy granny neighbor who was always bothering him for nothing were waiting for him.

But for the first time in three years, JJ Maybank didn't care about any of this. He was still standing in that hallway. He looked through the glass at the sunlit room.

A wave of the hand. Jump. Spin.

And again. Her hand is in the air... Jump… Spin…

The music is like the sound of the sea... Her eyes are like warm sand… And her light smile, like the warm sun of Kildare…

JJ Maybank fell in love.

If someone had told him six months ago that his heart would beat a thousand beats per minute just by looking at her, or that when talking to her, he would not be able to find more than one suitable word and would only stand and watch her giggle softly at his reaction... He would have laughed in the man's face. Because JJ Maybank doesn't fall in love. He spends one night with a girl and forgets about her in the morning. He takes napkins with numbers he will never call and throws them in the nearest trash can.

JJ Maybank is not made for relationships. He does not get attached and cannot love. But for some reason, he feels differently with her.

JJ Maybank fell in love.

And if six months ago he would have been told that he would work two shifts to buy himself a white dress shirt and a pair of decent trousers just to sit in a maroon velvet armchair among rich pompous bastards and watch her dance on stage... Watch how she transforms in her dance, becoming even more beautiful... Watch her every move, every curve of her body and the soft rise of her hands just to catch the smallest changes on her flawless face…

And then, meet her in the hall with a bouquet of her favorite tulips in his hands, for which he borrowed money from John B., just to see her smile like Kildare's sun and hear her laugh that reminds him of waves crashing on the shore.

JJ Maybank fell head over heels in love with her.

And it was obvious to everyone as a clear day.

John B. saw his friend's pupils turn into two big throbbing hearts when he saw her. John B. saw how JJ, who had always been confident around the girls, turned into a small helpless puppy who could not utter a single word as soon as she appeared next to him. John B. noticed how his best friend's life changed dramatically with the arrival of her in JJ's life.

JJ Maybank's life, which previously consisted only of home, work and a couple of weekend parties, now consisted only of work and meetings with her after which he went back to work.

Sarah wasn't blind to the changes in JJ's behavior either. The first time she saw him on the steps of the NYAFA, she thought that something had happened to John B., but when she realized that Maybank was not waiting for her, but for her friend, everything immediately fell into place. JJ's frequent appearance at performances at the academy, even when John B. did not go to them, the flowers that changed every three days in their shared with Y/N house, his questions about her best friend's preferences and many other things finally made sense.

Therefore, at her birthday party, Sarah decided to be a wingman and do everything possible to connect loving hearts. After all, Cameron did not escape the reactions from Y/N, who too often began to ask questions about JJ, who began to devote more time to her appearance and blushed every time Sarah mentioned only the name of the blonde.

Now JJ was sitting at a table in the Cameron's house backyard in Soho, which was decorated with sparkling lights in honor of the birthday girl, and stirring a glass of brandy in his hand. His gaze was once again focused only on her, dancing with Sarah on an improvised dance floor to some Latin music. The skirt of her white dress was like sea foam rising and falling with her every movement, and her ringing laughter made his heart skip a beat. During the four months of his addiction to her, it became a habitual body reaction for him.

JJ chuckled as he drained the rest of the brandy before lifting his head and meeting her glittering, emerald-like eyes. Her cheeks were red and her lips stretched into a wide smile. The guy saw how her chest quickly fell and rose after active dancing. The girl tilted her head slightly, bringing a red cup with drink to her lips before sitting down next to Maybank.

“Are you enjoying the party, Jay?" the girl teased. Her velvety voice carried like an electric current through his body before Maybank turned his head in her direction.

“Rather enjoying the view,” JJ grinned, winking at her, making the poor girl blush. She giggled softly and rolled her eyes playfully, nudging him lightly on the shoulder.

“I'm serious, by the way. You look tired,” the girl murmured and a line appeared between her brows. “And lately, I- I rarely see you.”

JJ's heart skipped a beat at the thought that she was worried about him and a corners of his mouth lifted. He sat closure to her, putting his hand on the back of her chair, looking straight into her doe-eyes. The girl felt as if the air had been knocked out of her lungs by the very sight of that self-confident grin and the look into those deep blue eyes. J's hand softly touched her cheek as he brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. The girl sucked in a loud breath and involuntarily leaned into his touch.

“You shouldn't bother that pretty little head of yours with worries about me, princess,” the guy whispered, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself.”

“And what if I want to take care of you...” the girl said in a barely audible voice, swallowing a lump in her throat.

She could feel her heart about to burst out when JJ slightly closed the distance between them. His lips were unbearably close to hers and she felt his hot breath burning her skin, and his hand continued to gently stroke her cheek. She had never wanted to kiss someone so much in her life.

For the past four months, all she could think about was the guy who came to her every performance when even her parents weren't there. The guy who meets her every night from rehearsals and asks her about her day. The guy who gives her his hoodie when she gets cold. The guy who brings her a bouquet of her favorite tulips every three days and leaves cute notes inside that she keeps in a shoe box under the bed.

Before JJ Maybank, all her thoughts were occupied only with dancing, which she lived and breathed, rehearsals, preparations for concerts and dreams of Broadway.

Now everything that surrounded her: a fresh bouquet of tulips in the kitchen, a blue hoodie with the smell of the sea in her closet, notes in a box under her bed and even the music she danced to - reminds her of him. She thinks about JJ when she wakes up and when she fall asleep. When she's dancing, when she's choosing music for a new performance, when she's walking, when she's reading, when she's resting. She thinks about JJ Maybank, about his light soft disheveled hair, about his blue eyes in which she could drown, about the smell of the salty sea that seemed to soak into his skin, constantly.

And now that he was so close to her, when he touched her face and looked at her with such tenderness, all she wanted to do was pull him closer and kiss him. But instead she swallowed, barely breaking away from him as Sarah's voice shattered their little vacuum world. Maybank cursed softly, running his hand through his hair before looking back at the girl who had already got up from her seat, preparing to head towards Sarah.

“Will you dance with me when I'm done with her?" A nervous laugh escaped her lips as she turned around halfway, looking hopefully at the guy.

JJ was taken aback. He wanted to agree. He wanted to say that he would be happy to dance with her, but... but he couldn't dance. And he was ashamed to admit it to someone for whom dancing was hers whole life. And he didn't want their first dance to be a complete failure just because he was a fool who couldn't move his bear paws and didn't know where to put his hands and how to behave properly and…

“Mhm. I'm already leaving. I have a night shift, so… Maybe another time?” the guy said distantly and shrugged, getting up from his chair.

Meeting her gaze, which literally screamed disappointment and that his answer hurt her, J immediately regretted his words and wanted to return them, but it was too late. The girl faked a smile and nodded.

“Then... maybe... another time? See ya, Jay,” she said finally and disappeared into the crowd, trying to suppress the tears that are starting to fill her eyes.

"Yeah… next time," the guy echoed, watching her move further away from him.

JJ Maybank was head over heels in love.

And even though he wasn't a genius before, he was a complete fool now.

Three weeks later, her dreams and her heart were broken. Three weeks after Sarah's birthday, she realized that all of JJ's feelings for her were just her own delusions.

At first, they just started seeing each other less often. He no longer met her after rehearsals, as he took extra shifts at work, but still sent her flowers every three days. He messaged her every day asking how her day was and how she was feeling, told her funny stories from work on their evenings phone calls and everything seemed fine. But after two weeks, all their communication came to naught. She offered to meet a couple of times, but JJ refused, saying that he had a job and as soon as his co-worker will recover from his unexpected illness, they would definitely meet.

And she believed him. And waited.

Until one day she saw JJ Maybank with a cup of coffee in his hand, strolling down Lexington Avenue smiling at a dark-haired girl, so beautiful as if she had stepped off the cover of vogue magazine when, according to him, he was supposed to be at work.

And at that moment, her whole world seemed to collapse.

She knew that she had no rights to the guy, that he had promised her nothing. And she understood perfectly well that they were not in a relationship, and that in fact he could spend his time with anyone. But her heart beat painfully in her chest from the realization that all those sweet and meaningful moments with him were now just nothing.

All those notes, flowers, late-night calls and conversations, that almost kiss - were now nothing and it broke her heart.

But the worst thing about this situation was the realization that instead of talking, JJ just decided to ignore her and ghost her, coming up with stupid excuses not to see her.

Maybe she did something wrong? Or maybe some of her words hurt him? Or was she too clingy? A lot of questions were spinning in the girl's head, but all she could do was lock herself in her room and cry, glad that Sarah had gone to her family for a couple of days. She didn't want to discuss this topic with anyone, not even with her best friend.

From that day on, she stopped texting JJ in the morning and calling in the evenings when she returned from rehearsals. She stopped opening the door to the courier, who continued to bring her flowers from him. And she hid his hoodie, smelling of the sea, away in the closet. She cut JJ Maybank out of her life, devoting herself to dancing, shutting herself off from the world around her.

At first, JJ did not notice that the girl had pulled away from him, immersed in her business and work.

More precisely, he noticed that she no longer wrote or called him after training, but for the first three days he attributed it to her busy schedule. Maybank remembered that she had mentioned preparing for an audition for a Broadway troupe, and thought that was what she was doing. But when he hadn't heard from her for a week, he got worried.

To tell the truth, JJ has been restless all week. He was so used to her presence in his life, to her morning messages that gave him energy for the whole day, to her evening calls and laughter on the phone that made his soul feel better, that the absence of these small moments felt like emptiness. Like a black corridor with no exit.

And JJ started writing to her himself, but he didn't get a reply. Then he started calling her, but all the calls were forwarded to the voicemail. He went to the academy, but he never saw her. And eventually he met Sarah, who was also completely unaware.

“Since I came from my parents, she hasn't been herself,” Sarah admitted, biting her lip, frowning slightly. “She hardly talks to me, she's always rehearsing, and it's like she's dropped out of life. I do not know what's wrong with her, JJ.”

Because of the whole situation, JJ Maybank couldn't live fully.

He continued to write to her, call her, even wrote letters by hand, as in those romantic films that she loved so much, throwing them under her door, but he never received an answer. Not a single response in a month.

He had been living without her in his life for a whole fucking month, and if before he was sure that he was in love with her, now JJ Maybank was a thousand percent sure that he loved her to the point of insanity and physical pain.

He wanted to hear her laugh every day. He wanted to wake up and see her smile and sparkling eyes first. He wanted to listen to her endless chatter about her favorite actors, singers and dancers. He wanted to watch her dance, watch how her soul seemed to rise somewhere higher, to where he had no access. He wanted to watch her laugh, blush, cry, be sad or angry for the rest of his life.

JJ Maybank wanted to spend his whole life with her. Because she is life itself. She is the ocean, the sound of waves, wet sand and warm sun. She's Kildare. She's his home.

And JJ Maybank wasn't going to give up on that. Not today. Not now. Never.

The sun had long sunk below the horizon. It was raining like hell, and even if JJ had an umbrella, it definitely wouldn't have saved him. No one could hide from the spring rains of New York.

JJ was standing under a tree near the entrance to the Academy of Fine Arts, waiting for her.

Today, JJ will solve all their problems and confess his feelings to her. No matter the weather, no matter her mood, or even the meteor shower, he will do everything to make her listen to him. And if after that she decides that she doesn't want to see him, then he will leave her life forever. But if, for once in his life, luck would be on his side, and she reciprocates, then... then he will never let her go.

The big front door opened and Y/N walked out of the building, lifting her head up, looking at the sky. JJ froze for a second, watching as she lifted her backpack over her head and walked down the marble steps so beautiful and elegant. He hadn't seen her for almost a month and a half, and now that she was so close to him, all thoughts and intentions left his head. And just like the first time they met, he could only look at her and enjoy the view. But as soon as her foot hit the sidewalk and she headed for the bus stop, JJ came out of his hiding place calling her name.

The girl stopped halfway, slowly looking over her shoulder at the blond man approaching her. The world stopped around her in a second. She felt her knees ready to buckle, and her heart began to beat a painfully familiar accelerated rhythm. But before her feelings could fully grasp her again, the girl pulled herself together and turned away, swiftly walking away from him.

“No, wait! We need to talk!" JJ shouted through the noise of the rain, starting to run, catching her by the forearm and turning her towards him. The girl's eyes widened when his hand touched the bare skin of her forearm and her whole body felt like it was on fire.

“Let me go,” she said coldly, and JJ was a little taken aback, but did not let go of her hands, shaking his head negatively. He won't leave until he's sorted it out. He needed answers. And he needed her even more.

“I won't let you go until you tell me what's the matter with you"

The girl stared at the guy in shock, and then laughed out loud, throwing her head back, lowering the bag, as her hand was tired of holding it over her head. Raindrops immediately began to roll down her face and hair, drenching her to the skin in a second.

“Are you serious? What's the matter? You tell me what's the matter, JJ! Tired of your new doll and you decided to come back to me again, huh?”

Her eyes sparkled with the fire of anger, burning a hole in the uncomprehending JJ. She was furious and it was the first time he had seen her like this and did not understand what he had done to arouse such reaction in her. Her bag fell to the sidewalk and she came closer, lifting her head a little higher, looking straight into his eyes.

“What? Did you also play with her, made her feel needed, desired, and then dumped her? Yeah, Maybank? Did you do the same to her?”

She pulled her hand out of his grasp and pushed her palms into his chest. The guy staggered, but remained standing in place, frowning, watching her eyes fill with tears. Or was it just the rain?

“Why aren't you saying anything? Answer me! Did you do the same to her as you did to me?" The girl roared in his face, pushing him in the chest once more before taking a step back, shaking her head.

She turned away for a couple of seconds, gathering her thoughts. JJ heard her sniffle and felt his heart clench with pain. He didn't understand what she was angry about, who she was talking about and what she wanted him to say. Maybank wanted to pull her closer to him and calm her down, to tell her that everything would be fine and that they could work it out, but he was too overwhelmed by everything that was happening and couldn't even move.

“You know, I believed that you really liked me. I believed that for the first time in my life, someone liked me, and not Sarah or one of my friends, but you...” she sniffled again, wiping the tears that rolled down her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I-I really believed you… Why didn't you tell me you weren't interested in me? Why didn't you say you didn't want to talk to me? Why did you make up excuses that you were working or-”

“Excuses? I was really working. I took extra shifts and I-” finally realizing the reality of the situation, JJ began to speak, but she immediately interrupted him, throwing a look full of pain and resentment.

“I saw you and that girl coming out of the coffee shop together when you said you were going to work!" She exclaimed, covering her face with her hands, running her fingers through her dump hair.

JJ rubbed his eyes, trying to figure out what she meant, which girl she was talking about, until he remembered Brittany, his dance coach. He signed up for dance classes a month ago. Was it really all because of that? Was she ignoring him because she thought he was just having fun with her? No, no, she couldn't have thought that.…

“Hey, hey, no, it's all not what it seems,” the guy shook his head, taking a step forward, reaching for her hands, removing them from her face, squeezing them in his own.

His eyes scanned her face. The mascara flowed from moisture and tears, the eyes were slightly reddened, and the nose was swollen. And JJ looked at her again. Not understanding why she would even think that he would like someone like Brittany when she was all he could dream of. His hands cupped her face and with his thumbs he gently wiped away the black marks under her eyes. A soft sob escaped her lips and a fresh batch of tears rolled down her cheeks. He exhaled, pressing his forehead against hers, swallowing, breathing heavily.

“The truth is... that Brittany girl... she's my dance teacher,” JJ whispered and looked into her eyes, which were looking at him questioningly. She looked like a little lost child and he chuckled softly.

“That night, at Sarah's birthday party, when you asked me to dance…" J closed his eyes and exhaled loudly. He hoped that he would never have to admit it, and that his dancing lessons would remain a secret, but she had to know the truth so as not to consider him the jerk who played with her feelings. JJ didn't want her to think that of him. “I refused because I can't dance. And I was... I was ashamed. Dancing is your whole life and I would just embarrass myself in front of you… And you'd think I was some kind of fool...”

“But I-I would never have th-thought that,” the girl whispered softly. J opened his eyes, caught her sincere gaze and smiled. God, what a fool he was.

“That's right, but I... I was an insecure jerk, princess,” the guy admitted, grinning, tucking a wet curl behind her ear. “I'm… It all happened so fast and I... I never saw myself catching these feelings. I never asked for help or needed the healing. And I decided to take these damn dance classes for you... and I didn't want you to find out because I... because I'm a complete idiot, apparently,” the guy laughed softly, shaking his head.

JJ let go of her face and took a couple of steps back, giving her time to process everything he said. He could feel his heart beating wildly against the walls of his chest while she stood and was silent, fluttering her eyelashes.

“Listen, Princess. I know I should have told you and all that earlier, but I... God, you're driving me crazy, you know? I can't think, speak, or breathe when you're around. I'm head over heels in love with you, angel” Maybank ran his fingers through the hair, trying to collect his thoughts. “I can't stop the way that this felt. It keeps coming round and round and round and back again”

She looked at him in silence, feeling as if the heart that she had broken herself was beginning to heal from his words. And she wanted to cry how stupid she had been to believe that JJ was playing with her. While he was taking dance lessons so as not to look like a fool in front of her… She knew he didn't like dancing, but for her sake he went to classes to learn. For her sake, he stepped over himself a bunch of times, worked overtime and did everything to make her happy, and she just...

A loud sob escaped her lips and she covered her mouth with her hand, feeling tears blurring her eyes. Her legs buckled and she almost fell to the ground, but JJ quickly picked her up, hugging her to him.

“I'm sorry, Jay! I'm so so so sorry, I was such a fool! I-I-I didn't mean to! I-I-didn't know,” the girl whimpered into his chest, clinging to his soaked T-shirt. His free hand slowly stroked her wet hair while his other hand held her on her feet.

“Shhh… Everything's fine now, right? We'll figure it out and everything will be fine,” the guy whispered in her ear, kissing the top of her head. “You believe me, don't you?”

The girl raised her head looking at his calm face, on which raindrops were running, at his wet hair and soft smile, and her soul felt so warm, as if in a second she was at home in the warmth next to the fireplace with a warm mug of tea in her hands, and not standing under the cold pouring rain in the middle of the street. Her hand slowly soared into the air and removed the bangs that stuck to his forehead before nodding in agreement.

JJ's gaze swept over her soft features. First the eyes, then the pink cheeks and plump lips that he wanted to kiss so much. The guy exhaled, raising his eyes again, looking into hers.

“Will you dance with me?” He whispered hoarsely, without taking his eyes off her, holding out his hand.

She smiled, and it seemed to him that this smile could light up the whole world if the sun ever went out. She gently placed her hand in his palm, and put the other on his shoulder. JJ squeezed her hand, pulling her closer by the waist, so that he felt every cell of her body and took the first hesitant step, which she followed without even thinking.

Her gaze was focused on his eyes, blue as two oceans, in which she was drowning more and more with each new step of the dance. For the first time, she didn't think about what move she should make next, or what position to stand in to look good on stage, or about getting to the beat of the music. For the first time in a long time, she danced just for herself, as she felt and as she wanted, completely trusting in the hands of JJ Maybank. He with trepidation and tenderness whirled her around in a dance on the ever-hurrying streets of New York, which at that moment stopped their run. Leaving only her, JJ and their dance in this vast world.

“I think love you, JJ,” she whispered softly, looking into his eyes, feeling a lump rise in her throat from excitement. Maybank stopped holding her in his arms, studying her face carefully before saying hoarsely, “Say it again".

“I love you,” she said on an exhale, and as soon as these words were uttered for the second time, Maybank pulled her face closer and kissed her. Gently. No rush. Like he haven't kissed anyone else before her. Trying to feel every emotion to the fullest.

The New York's rain comes pouring down, not even thinking to stop. And JJ Maybank didn't like the New York's rain. He didn't like New York and the people who live here. He disliked theater, ballet and dancing.

But JJ Maybank loved the sea, the sun and sandy beaches. He also loved surfing and Kildare, which he had to leave three years ago. He loved his home, which was thousands of miles from New York.

Y/N Y/L loved New York with its weather and people. She lived by dancing and dreamed of performing on Broadway and had never been to North Carolina. But despite this, JJ Maybank saw her as his home: the waves of the sea in her laughter, the sandy beaches in her eyes and the warmth of the sun in her smile.

And next to her, it turned out that New York and North Carolina were not so different, and that his home would never be a thousand miles away. And from now on, It will always stay next to him, in his arms, on his lips, in his heart.

Because now JJ Maybank knew that his home had never been a place. It's always been a person. And it's her.

that’s my first such loooong oneshot here so, i’m a little nervous to post it. but i rly hope it came out good n not too boring.

I will be glad to receive any feedback. a comment, like or reblog always pleases that little writer’s heart of mine.

but, nevertheless, thankx for reading <3

– your santi ✨

[lightsoutletsgo]

P L A Y L I S T (cl16 x singer!reader series) vol.6 - toronto

warnings: none

word count: n/a

hi everyone! another sm chapter but this time it's charles who gets a visit! they're actually my favourite pairing I've ever written. truly just two idiots crushing hard... happy reading! love, mimi taglist currently: open! @whatsupstark @evie-119

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Toronto thisisy/n posted to their story!

Liked by scuderiaferrari, lilymhe and 891,725 others

lilymhe: can't wait to see you!!

carlossainz55: don't worry I haven't told him

eclipsenina: YEEEES GIRL !! GO GET UR MANS 🤪

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thisisy/n

Liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe and 982,703 thisisy/n it was so lovely to join @.scuderiaferrari for a more relaxing day on tour today! congratulations to my boys in red for a great result (at least I think it was? I'm still learning!) FORZA FERRARI!! ❤️ many thanks to the beautiful fan who airdropped me the picture they took of me in the pitlane 🫶🏼 📸: @.ynloverrr tagged: charles_leclerc and carlossainz55

View all 45,730 comments scuderiaferrari we're so glad you enjoyed the day! you're welcome back any race weekend ❤️🌙 ⤷ thisisy/n admin you are the sweetest ❤️ ⤷ lilymhe stop! you're making me blush! ⤷ eclipsemoonbeam admin is a moonbeam: confirmed Comment liked by thisisy/n and scuderiaferrari

drivetoeclipse charles bought her flowers again? 😭 this is my roman empire ⤷ ynbestvocals THE WAY SHE POSTED THEM ON HER INSTA AGAIN TOO 🥺 charllles 'FORZA FERRARI!!' 😭😭😭 ⤷ ferraricharles she's really turning into one of us huh... 🥹

ynloverrr NOBODY TALK TO ME FOR 3-5 WORKING DAYS IM SO- 🥹🥹🥹 ⤷ eclipsemoonbeam you're living the absolute DREAM ⤷ carlando it's really sweet how y/n interacts with her fans like this! ⤷ moonbeamdream the way she tagged you and everything 🥺 ⤷ thisisy/n I have to give credit where credit is due! the pic was too pretty to not use 🫶🏼 ⤷ ynloverrr screaming crying all over again omg omg omg

charles_leclerc always a pleasure having you at the race! thank you for the flowers ❤️ ⤷ drivetoeclipse THOSE FLOWERS WERE FOR CHARLES? IM SOBBING EVEN MORE ⤷ ynbeam she bought him flowers? ⤷ ferawri they are a literal @.taylorswift song Comment liked by thisisy/n and taylorswift

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