#it will be very hard for you to convince me to do the thing and try to help you further

[orbitganymede]

baby daddy simon who dated you for a year before you got pregnant, you’d gone through most of the pregnancy alone, him being deployed 3 weeks after you found out and gone until the very last month of it. the both of you had tried at keeping the relationship together, but the distance and loneliness got to you, you’d been fine when it was just you but now with baby, you can’t let the father go in and out of their life. he wasn’t very happy with the decision to end your relationship, in his mind you were together forever now, tied together by this beautiful thing you two created, he didn’t even want children before you told him you were expecting but his whole world view changed when he realized that he not only had you to protect but a baby as well.

but you’d moved out against his wishes, finding a small flat you like and making it home for you and baby. he would come over sometimes, when he could, and spend some time with baby but honestly he felt more like some glorified uncle, would be convinced he was nothing to this child until he saw those brown eyes staring back at him, the ones that are so completely his, and he comes to the conclusion that this isn’t gonna work.

he starts small, coming over once a week instead of every other weekend, takes the two of you out for dinner instead of letting you cook or ordering in. stays late enough that you offer him the spare bed in the guest room, even with the distance you’ve put between yourselves, you can’t help but care for him, knowing nobody else will.

then he puts more pressure on you, making sure you see just how valuable he is, taking night shift feedings and waking up early with baby when they’re fussy. he offers to take baby for the night so you can go out with your friends, do things you haven’t been able to since baby’s arrival, even pays for a spa day for you to really relax. he stocks your fridge, full of the snacks you love and a bottle of wine for the hard nights. he buys and sets up new decor in the house, finally gets you the pretty white vanity and a new washing machine that doesn’t squeak. he really just does what he considers ‘husband duties’, things that he should have been doing this whole time.

and when you don’t budge on the separation, he goes nuclear, “no, love, i haven’t seen your birth control pills”, “look how cute this baby is, remember when ours was that small, sweetheart”, “you’re so stressed darling, let me help you” which basically means you end up getting rawdogged within an inch of your life, condom long forgotten, one of simons hands held over your mouth to muffle the sounds you’re making. he just hopes he’d tracked your cycle right, that you’re actually ovulating, because you can’t possible refuse his ring after having two of his babies right? you wouldn’t do that to him, would you pet?

[multipleoccupancy]

Sloane nodded thoughtfully and absorbed the single parent idea with just a small element of sadness, he knew she had lost her mother from their discussions on the constellations. He hoped it wouldn't be too painful for her to think about in the mission but he trusted her to say if it was the case. "We'll do that then, I am sure I can tug on the right strings to get them to let her in." He put on his very best sad expression, which was very convincing before he let it fade back into a warm smile for her.

"Yes I am hoping tonight will be a case of two birds and one stone." He looked to Killian and Violet, "maybe four stones, but that just means we can hit harder." He partly teased but he had promised they would do what they could to try and reverse what had been done to the student and it would start with catching and 'questioning' whoever it was behind the experiments. Fully understanding what it was Samantha was suggesting in her 'asking' idea.

He saw how he had made her speechless and he put a hand around her shoulder to pull her back into a small hug, caring and thoughtful hoping he had not upset her even as she thanked him. "They can still pick and chose who to send where," Sloane said of Delta Green and maternity leave, "perhaps you can be the person to start implementing the idea of maternity leave." He suggested with a flash of a smile. "But you should not put your life on hold for fear of things that might not even happen. You give so much to the missions and to the world that you deserve your chance to take a step back and live the life which you're protecting. You can put measures into place for your family. I have and when that time comes, just give me a clue and we'll talk through what you can do."

Theo was a little blown away at the idea of Fire Vampires looking and acting like bolts of lighting. He was struggling to work out if they were real or if Violet was perhaps being told something of a weird urban legend about them. But she had said she had captured them. It was very hard to believe, everything she said and had been through but for the rollercoaster of emotions already that night, he was happier to accept rather than question it as he went off to find the soda cans.

He picked up enough of them that they were spilling from his arms as he made his way back from the trash can. Not even batting an eye at having rummaged through it, too excited in the moment to at least feign disgust, but nice collage campus bins in the campus theatre were a safe bet compared to what he sometimes ended up picking through in New York. "Here we go," he said as he moved to the far side of the stage from her to start setting the cans out at different heights, some on the floor, some on a bench and desk.

Sloane gave Violet a smile and a very clear thumbs up for her showing him the crossbow as he nearly spoke out of the side of his mouth to Samantha. "We should probably limit the ammunition on that one." He suggested as he watched a fifteen year old waving around what had been a deadly weapon for centuries now. "I hope her aim is as good as she said it was." But Sloane made no attempt to stop either Violet or Killian, perhaps because he wanted to see if it would work and if he could and should let Violet use it in their plan.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Yes, it would be a lot more fun. "You're right," she admitted anyway, "let's try to play the teacher card first. You could tell them that you have her for the weekend but have to work late tonight. The single dad angle should mellow out whoever's in charge of the dorms." She spoke from experience.

"I bet we can finish the mission tonight," she echoed, perhaps more optimistic, or too optimistic. But like Sloane had said so himself, once they had the monster trapped, they could easily lure the man behind this awful experiment! "Whoever did this to this poor student might even know how to undo it. It'll be worth it to ask him once we have him." And by 'ask', Samantha did mean 'use force if necessary'. Which Violet would not be allowed to witness.

Sloane's words left her speechless for a moment. She blushed, teary-eyed. "Thank you," she finally managed after a few seconds, "I would like that, you know. Be a mother. But as long as I'm on the field... Delta Green doesn't really offer maternity leave." She looked at Violet and thought about how she adored her father. Then she thought about her own father. She loved him too. But she had still raised herself, in the end. "What if something happens to me? What if my kid loses me?" Her eyelashes fluttered. "I'm sorry." She knew Sloane had kids of her own.

Oh, right. This Theo didn't know about Fire Vampires. And she hoped he would never have to encounter one. "Fire Vampires look like huge bolts of lightning," she explained, "once they touch something, it bursts into flames. But as it turned out, they don't just look like lightning, they work like it too. So, they were immediately trapped inside my lightning rods." She grinned. "They seemed quite unhappy about it.

Violet trusted that he knew where to find empty cans -after all, he had been posing as a student at this university. She waited as he trotted to one of the bins, excited to try her crossbow. When she seemed to notice Sloane was looking at her, she waved in his direction and proudly pointed at the crossbow.

Samantha's smile was a little bit tense as she waved back. "If her weapon-making skills are on par with her trap-making skills... I think it will." Which was good, right? And also very worrying.

[rmview]

they beg to be taken back, SKZ.

featuring — stray kids members x gn!reader ( masterlist )

summary — a reaction of how the stray kids boys realize they can’t live without you, and come to beg you for a second chance!

contents — angst, mentions of fights, possible reconciliation.

bang ♢ chan

bang chan had always been composed, the leader who held everyone together. but when you broke up with him, the cracks in his armor showed. he respected your decision and convinced himself that it was for the best, despite the emptiness growing unbearable.

he wasn’t himself since and the people around him began to notice. the usual spark in his eyes dimmed, and the weight of your absence felt suffocating. he replayed the last argument over and over in his head, agonizing over what he could’ve done differently. but as much as he respected your decision, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to try, just one more time, to fight for what you both had.

it was late when he showed up at your doorstep, his hand hovering over the doorbell. when you answered, you were more than surprised to see him standing there, his shoulders slightly hunched as if he was carrying the weight of the world. his hair was disheveled, eyes rimmed red. he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“chan? what are you doing here?” the nickname slipped from your lips almost too easily and you suppressed the urge to recoil. being around him — being his, was too easy. even with the two months apart, one look into his eyes was all it took for everything to come rushing back.

“i… i needed to see you,” he said, his voice trembling slightly and his australian accent slightly thicker, which was a sign of his nervousness. “i know you said that it’s over, but i can’t accept it — not without trying to make things right.”

you felt something in your chest lurch, and for a few moments you were rendered speechless. a large part of you wanted to forget the fight and what lead up to it, but the smaller part of you kept reminding you of how alone he made you feel despite being together. “we’ve already talked about this. you need to let me go. i... i don’t want to go back to feeling the way i did.”

he shook his head, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. “i can’t just let you go,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “i know i messed up. i wasn’t there for you when you needed me most, i treated you like another responsibility, and i hate myself for it. but please, give me a chance to prove that i can do better. i can’t lose you like this.”

“chan…” you looked away, your heart breaking at the vulnerability in his voice. your own eyes blurred with tears and you tried to blink them away.

“i know i’m asking a lot,” he continued, taking a tentative step closer. his hands itched with the need to reach out for your waist; the feeling of your skin under his palms a muscle memory. “but i love you. i love you more than anything, and i can’t imagine my life without you in it. tell me what i need to do, and i’ll do it. just… don’t give up on us.”

his desperation was raw and unfiltered, and it was clear that he’d spent every waking moment thinking about this moment. whether you took him back or not, he was determined to fight for you until the very end.

felix ♢

felix was a wreck after the breakup. the ever-present sunshine in his personality dimmed, replaced by a quiet sadness that the others noticed but didn’t know how to fix. he replayed the moments leading up to your decision endlessly, wondering where he went wrong. no matter how hard he tried to respect your choice and acknowledge his mistakes, his heart refused to let it go.

one rainy evening, he found himself standing in the reception office of your workplace while soaked to the bone. he didn’t care that the receptionist was eyeing him in annoyance for dripping on the floors, or that he looked homeless from his red-rimmed eyes and masked face. when you finally made your way down after a call from your superiors, you were shocked.

“felix? what the hell?” you whisper-yelled, your voice laced with concern despite the shock as you grasped his arms to lead him to the bathrooms instead of the ac-blasting reception so he wouldn’t get sick.

“i had to see you,” he said, his voice trembling. both from the cold and his overwhelming feelings. “i couldn’t just… let it end like that.”

you sighed, grasping his freezing hands in yours and holding it under the hot air of the hand drier, not caring that you were in the men’s room. felix couldn’t care less either as he momentarily basked in the feeling of your soft hands in his after so long. “i know i hurt you, and i hate myself for it. but i can’t let you go without telling you how much you mean to me.”

“and you thought this was the smartest way to do it? by getting yourself sick?” you shook your head, trying to keep your emotions in check. he broke your heart, you tried to remind yourself to keep yourself steely. it didn’t work.

“i know i made mistakes,” he continued, his voice breaking as he sniffled and you avoided his gaze and chalked it up to the cold. “i wasn’t there for you the way i should have been. but you… you’re everything to me. you’re the reason i smile, the reason i wake up in the morning. please, tell me how to fix this.”

his vulnerability was heart-wrenching and you felt your own eyes blur through your silence. felix didn’t look away from you the entire time, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “i’ll do anything, anything to make things right. just… don’t walk away from me. from us.”

as the rain continued to pour outside, felix stood there, baring his soul to you. he wasn’t just asking for forgiveness — he was offering every piece of himself, hoping it would be enough to convince you to take him back.

lee ♢ know

lee know was stubborn by nature, and after the breakup, he tried to convince himself he didn’t need anyone. he put on a brave face around the others, burying himself in practice and work. taking on excess time to keep his mind off you worked for a while, but even then every time he went home to the empty silence of his apartment, your absence hit him like a freight train.

his members began to notice his stubbornness and attempt to dismiss your relationship, giving him the space he needed as they hoped he’d work through it. but it began to become clear he was taking the ostrich’s way out — burying his head in the sand and pretending everything was fine.

it took weeks for him to swallow his pride and realize he didn’t want to deal with the emptiness anymore. the fight was so stupid and you were the love of his life, so why weren’t you together right now?

he wasn’t one to beg, but losing you was something he slowly realized he couldn’t bear. and so one evening after heavy contemplation, he found himself standing outside your apartment door, clutching his phone in one hand and a small bouquet of your favorite flowers in the other.

when you opened the door, you paused and your eyes widened in surprise. your treacherous heart missed a beat and you attempted to school your expression to normal. “minho? what are you doing here?”

“i, uh, i needed to see you,” he said, his usual cool demeanor replaced with a hesitance you rarely saw.

your mind flashed with the hurtful words he threw at you during the argument and you crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe. “i thought we agreed that separating was for the best.”

“maybe i thought so at first,” he admitted, his voice soft but firm. “but i don’t think i can do this anymore. i can’t pretend that i’m okay being without you because i’m not.”

“minho…” you started, looking away as you didn’t know what to say.

“i know i don’t say it enough,” he interrupted, his gaze dropping to the ground. “but i love you. i loved you then, and i love you now. and i hate that i let you go without fighting for you. i hate that i was so stupid.”

“you hurt me,” you said, a slight wobble in your voice that you attempted to mask with by clearing your throat softly. but the hurt in your eyes was hard to miss. “i can’t just forget that.”

“i know,” he said, stepping closer. he put the flowers down on the floor by your feet as he took your hands in his, his palms warm. “and i don’t expect you to. but i want to make it up to you. i’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust again. because i mean it when i say i won’t make the same mistakes again.”

he squeezed your palms softly, bringing your fingers up to his lips. “i know i’m not the best at showing how much you mean to me. but you do — more than anything. and if there’s even the smallest part of you that still feels the same way, please… give me another chance.”

it wasn’t easy for lee know to open up like this, but the thought of losing you for good outweighed his fear of vulnerability and hesitance. whether or not you decided to take him back, he was determined to show you just how much you meant to him.

hyun ♢ jin

hyunjin wasn’t one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but the breakup managed to shatter the carefully built walls around his emotions. he threw himself into his art and practice, hoping it would drown out the ache in his chest. but no matter how many brushstrokes he painted or routines he perfected, nothing could fill the void you’d left behind.

while hoping to take a walk on evening , hyunjin mindlessly ended up walking into your favorite park, the place where you’d spent countless nights talking about dreams and fears. as usual, you were there sitting on the same bench you’d share, a book on your lap but your mind and gaze were elsewhere.

hyunjin stood there for a few moments, unable to look away until your wandering gaze settled on him. you paused, startled to see him there, his usually confident posture replaced by a tentative nervousness as he slowly walked to you.

“hyunjin?” you looked up at him, unsure if you should address him in public since your relationship was over. he was dressed in black, a mask covering the bottom half of his face, but you recognized him immediately.

he hesitated for aa moment before he sat down beside you, a small bittersweet smile tugging at his lips even though you couldn’t see it. “i wasn’t sure you’d be here,” he admitted.

“i didn’t know you’d be here either,” you replied cautiously, fidgeting with your book in your lap. would you have come if you knew? maybe, maybe not.

he took a deep breath, his gaze locking onto you even though you wouldn’t look back at him. “i just... i needed to see you. i can’t keep pretending i’m okay with this when i’m not.”

“hyunjin, we’ve already talked about this…”

“i know,” he interrupted, his voice heavy with emotion. “but i can’t let it end like this. i know i hurt you really bad, and i hate myself for it every day. i thought i was protecting you from this life and me, but all i did was push you away.”

your fingers softly tightened around the book, trying to calm yourself against the raw emotion in his voice. “it’s not that simple.”

“i know it’s not,” he said, scooting slightly closer. he couldn’t take his eyes off you. you were so pretty. “but i love you. i’ve always loved you, even when i was too scared to show it. and if there’s even a small part of you that still cares about me and what we had, then please… let me try to fix this.”

his voice broke as he added, “i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if i have to. just… don’t give up on us. not yet.”

you finally looked up at him and your breath hitched at the proximity. the vulnerability in hyunjin’s eyes was almost too much for you to bear. he wasn’t just asking for forgiveness — he was offering every piece of himself, hoping it would be enough to convince you to give him one last chance. he wouldn’t lose you again.

i.n ♢

jeongin had never experienced heartbreak like this before. the breakup ended up hitting him harder than he ever thought possible. he spent days replaying the fight you both had in his head, wondering how he could’ve done things differently. his hyungs tried their best to cheer him up, but their efforts only seemed to highlight the emptiness he felt without you.

you were his first relationship, his first kiss, his first love and the woman he thought he’d marry some day. he’d questioned his success as an idol, he’d question his talents — but the lifetime of your relationship was one thing he never had to question. so to have that one dream shattered was more than the average heartbreak. jeongin would probably never date again.

only nine days had passed since you left, and after those 200 hours, jeongin couldn’t take it anymore. he knew your schedule in and out, and he knew exactly where you’d be on a weekend evening at 5.

he showed up at your favorite café, the place where you’d spent countless afternoons together and took a seat at the very booth you’d always sit at, counting down the minutes to when you’ll show up.

so when you walked in and spotted him sitting at your usual table, his nervous smile and the familiar warmth in his eyes caught you off guard.

“jeongin?” you asked cautiously as you approached, looking around the almost empty area. “what are you doing here?”

he stood up quickly, his hands fidgeting as he spoke, wanting to reach out to you. “hi. i… i wasn’t sure if you’d come here today, but i had to take the chance.”

you hesitated, unsure of what to say. it had barely been over a week since your breakup. “what do you want?”

“i want to apologize,” he said earnestly, his voice quiet but steady. he had already made up his mind. “and to ask for another chance.”

“jeongin, we already talked about this,” you replied, shaking your head softly. the argument was still fresh in your mind and you didn’t plan to give in anytime soon. yet one look into his puppy-like eyes was all it took. damn.

“i know that,” he said quickly, his words tumbling out in a rush. “but i can’t just let it end the way it did. i know i hurt you, and i know i wasn’t the boyfriend you deserved, but i want to make it right. i need to make it right.”

you sighed, hesitantly sitting down across from him. “it’s not that easy.”

“i know it’s not,” jeongin said, his gaze earnest. he was not going to leave without you. “but i love you. and i’ll do whatever it takes to prove that to you. i’ve been thinking about everything i did wrong, and i promise, i’ll be better. just… don’t shut me out completely. you don’t have to take me back now, but know i’m not going to let this be the end of us.”

his voice softened as he added, “i know i’m asking for a lot, but please… let me show you how much you mean to me. even if it seems a little too late.”

you found yourself softening against your will. jeongin’s sincerity was palpable, and the quiet determination in his eyes made it clear that he wasn’t giving up on you. whether or not you decided to take him back, he was willing to do whatever it took to make amends.

han ♢

han had always been known for his bright energy, and the way he could light up a room with his laughter. but ever since the breakup, his spark was gone and it became glaringly obvious. the jokes came less frequently, and the music he created sounded hollow, even to him. he missed you, missed the comfort of your presence and the way you always seemed to understand him when no one else could.

his group members had tried to give him the time and space he needed, since your relationship was long-term and impactful. you had been by han’s side since before stray kids, and the loss of your presence in his life was something all 7 of them combined couldn’t match up to.

the moment han decided he couldn’t stay away any longer, he abandoned the practice session and rushed straight to your place without even thinking it through. the journey was a blur and his body ran on instinct until he was standing outside your door.

his hands fidgeted with the hem of his hoodie as he rehearsed what he wanted to say for a few minutes before knocking once he was semi-confident of what to say and had plastered a small nervous smile on his lips.

when you opened the door, his smile faltered at the sight of you. “hey,” he said softly, his voice tinged with hesitance, looking over the sight of you in your pajamas.

“han? what are you doing here?” you paused in shock, not expecting his presence out of all things.

“i… i couldn’t stay away,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to the ground. he forgot what he planned to say. “i know i don’t have any right to be here after what happened and what i said, but i needed to talk to you.”

you looked over his sweaty and disheveled appearance as if he ran here, and crossed your arms, looking away. “we already talked, han. what’s left to say?”

“a lot,” he said quickly, his voice trembling slightly — from being out of breath, or from the prospect of losing you, he wasn’t sure. “i know i messed up real bad. i know i didn’t always handle things the way i should’ve, but i can’t —” he paused, swallowing hard. “i can’t lose you.”

you sighed, trying to keep your composure. you knew his words were true. “you realize that now? after all that was said and done?”

“i know what i said,” he said, stepping closer. “but i need you to know how sorry i am. i didn’t realize how much i was taking you for granted until you were gone. and now… now i feel like i’m missing a part of myself. you, and what we had, none of that can ever be replaced. you were the one, and i was so stupid for letting you go like that.”

“han…”

“i’m not asking you to forgive me right now,” he continued, his voice cracking. “but i just want one chance to show you that i can be better. please, just give me that chance. i won’t screw up again.”

his vulnerability was raw and unguarded, and the tears welling up in his eyes mirrored the ache in your chest. his presence only made you realize what you were missing. han wasn’t one to beg, but for you, he’d put his pride aside if it meant that he could win you back.

seung ♢ min

seungmin prided himself on his ability to stay composed, but the breakup had shaken him to his core. he replayed your last conversation over and over, analyzing every word, every tone, trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong. the silence in his life without you was deafening, and no amount of logic could convince his heart to move on.

he knew he had no right to approach you or ask for forgiveness after his neglect, but damn was it hard to get past your absence in his daily life. meals, practice and sleeping alone felt void — like a puzzle piece was missing, leaving the actions feeling inadequate.

it took him a month to realize he couldn’t go on without you, weeks to decide how he was going to approach you, and another handful of days to work up the courage and find himself standing outside your door. his heart was pounding in his chest and his hands felt sweaty.

when you opened your front door, you were startled to see seungmin there, his usual calm demeanor replaced with an uncharacteristic hesitance and unease. “seungmin? what are you doing here?”

“i…” he hesitated, his eyes dropping to the floor as he suddenly felt a wave of unpreparedness. “i needed to talk to you.”

you were surprised but crossed your arms and kept your expression guarded, equally as hesitant. “we’ve already said everything that needed to be said. why now?”

“no,” he said firmly, meeting your gaze. a troubled look in his eyes. seungmin wasn’t sure if he felt like crying, or throwing up. “i didn’t say enough. i didn’t fight for you the way i should have, and i can’t let it end like this.”

“seungmin…” you frowned softly

“i know i made mistakes,” he interrupted, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “i know i wasn’t always there for you the way i should’ve been. but i love you. and i can’t just let you walk away without trying to make things right.”

you sighed, looking away. “it’s not that simple. you hurt me.”

“i know,” he said, his voice softening. “and i hate myself for it. but i want to make it up to you. i’ll do whatever it takes, no matter how long it takes. i just need you to give me a chance.”

when you didn’t respond immediately, he took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly. “i’m not asking you to forget everything. i’m just asking for the chance to prove that i can be better—that i can be the person you deserve.”

the quiet determination in his voice was unlike anything you’d heard from him before. it was clear that seungmin wasn’t just asking for forgiveness—he was willing to fight for you, no matter how long it took.

chang ♢ bin

changbin wasn’t used to feeling helpless, but after the breakup, he felt like his world had been turned upside down. he threw himself into his music, trying to channel his emotions into lyrics, but even that didn’t offer the relief he was hoping for. the studio felt empty without you. his group mates tried to cheer him up, but nothing could replace your touch, the sound of your laugh or the way you’d encourage him after a long day.

it didn’t take long before he realized he couldn’t let you go. your presence couldn’t be replaced by practice or writing, and every heart wrenching feeling being poured into his file of unreleased songs. it had reached a point where he had gotten tired of the separation and ended up impulsively making his way to your apartment one evening.

changbin’s heart was pounding as he worked up the courage to knock, freezing in surprise when you suddenly opened the door in that purple shirt of yours that you always wore to grocery shop. he stared at you quietly for a few moments, watching how your expression shifted from surprise to guardedness.

“changbin? what are you doing here?” you spoke softly, your gaze flickering around the hall to make sure no neighbor was out.

he hesitated, feeling extremely unprepared despite replaying the conversation in his mind the whole ride here, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “i just needed to see you,” he said, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

“bin, we’ve already talked about this,” you began the nickname slipping too easily, but he shook his head.

“no, i need you to listen,” he said, his voice firm but he had to clear his throat to stay composed. “i know i messed up. really bad. i know i didn’t always handle things the way i should’ve, but i can’t lose you. i don’t know how to be without you.”

you sighed, fidgeting slightly as you looked over his disheveled hair and troubled expression. he wouldn’t meet your eyes either. “it’s not that simple, changbin. you can’t just show up after what happened and expect everything to be okay.”

“i know that,” he said, his dark eyes pleading as he ran his palm over his face. he wasn’t one to beg but if he left this without knowing you were his again, he didn’t know what he’d do. “but i’m willing to do whatever it takes to fix this. i’ll change. i’ll be better. just tell me what you need, and i’ll make it happen.”

you looked away, trying to maintain your resolve, but his words slowly chipped away at your defenses. he was the best you’d ever had, until he wasn’t. “why now, changbin? why couldn’t you do this before and how am i supposed to believe you’ve changed?”

“because i was scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, looking up at you as he reached out to grasp your hands in his. “i was scared of failing you, or of not being enough. but i realized i’m more scared of losing you forever. i wouldn’t be able to bear that.”

his voice trembled and he nearly found himself in tears, leaning his forehead against yours. “please, give me another chance. let me prove that i can be the person you deserve.”

notes: something about writing sad shit and horny shit really makes me tingle. anybody interested in an individual smut fic?

[croissantsandblackcoffee]

luigi mangione ⊹ conjugal visit

— part two to this! luigi is seriously starting to grow on me, and i truly stand for what he’s for. might send him a letter soon

you were currently in a taxi, heading on your way to the prison. due to the strict rules of riker’s, conjugal visits are a very hard thing to get approved for, but luckily, you had saved up quite the money to convince the lawyers and prison system to allow you to have it.

the taxi eventually comes to a full stop by the prison, and you pay the driver before hopping out. this is it.

as you slowly approach the main entrance, you feel your heart thump a bit louder and a bit faster. you’re finally going to get to see luigi again — and not only that, but you’d be getting that alone time you’d been craving for months now.

the security guard standing outside looks over at you, eyeing you with a look you can’t read. you give them a silent nod, and he walks over to you.

“name?” he asks, pulling a pen and a clipboard from a small pouch hanging on his waist.

you give him your full name, for good measure. even though you’re incredibly anxious, you try your best not to show it outwardly.

the security guard writes something down on his clipboard, before looking back up to you and nodding. “let me see some ID, for confirmation.”

you reach into your purse and dig through it as quickly as possible, desperately searching for the ID. there’s some rifling for a moment before you pull out your ID and hand it over to the security guard.

he takes a look at it, checking it over to make sure it’s not a fake before handing it back to you. “all good,” he says, taking a step back. “go through the main doors, the other guards will take care of the rest from there.”

“thank you,” you say, swallowing down a lump in your throat.

you step around him and head towards the main entrance doors, taking a deep breath as you lay your hand on the door and push it open.

once you step inside, you’re immediately hit by the overwhelming smell of prison — dirt, concrete, sweat, and God knows what else. there’s a few guards standing at the doorway, and they look up at you the moment you enter.

“visitor?” one of the guards asks with a gruff voice.

you nod, holding your purse tightly. “i’m here for a conjugal visit,” you say, a little shiver evident in your voice.

the guard looks you up and down, before taking a moment to reach for the pocket radio secured on his hip. he brings it up to his mouth and murmurs something into it, before letting go of it. the same guard turns to a different one and nods once — and that’s when the other guard steps forward.

“follow me,” he says.

you nod once again, and the guard gestures for you to follow him. you do as you’re told, and silently obey to walk alongside the guard. he keeps a quick pace as he leads you down the first corridor, past a couple of guards and inmates, until you get to a different hallway.

he stops at a door labeled “conjugal,” and holds it open.

“you’ll be in there until your time is up,” the guard tells you firmly. “If you go past the time limit, we’re kicking you out and the visit is over.”

“okay,” you say a little nervously. as anxious as you may be, you still appreciate getting this much time alone with luigi, let alone getting it approved by the system itself.

“thank you,” you say, trying to offer a small smile.

the guard doesn’t smile at you. he stares at you, his expression completely stone cold. this is a prison, after all. he makes a hand gesture for you to enter the room, and so you do.

as you enter, you see that the room is rather small — it’s got four walls around you, a bed, and that’s really it. there’s a tiny window right by the top of the ceiling as well, and not much light is able to come in.

you stand awkwardly in the center of the room, the door shutting with a loud clank behind you. you place your bag on the floor before sitting on the edge of the bed gingerly, trying to ignore the fact that you’re literally in a prison to have some intimate time with your boyfriend.

you wait there, fidgeting anxiously. you’re not sure how long it’ll take for the guards to bring out your boyfriend, and the anticipation is already killing you — as excited as you are, you know you’re going to be a bundle of nerves once he finally gets here.

it’s only a few moments before the door is opened again, and you quickly turn your head to see a guard bringing in luigi, giving him a small push to force him to go inside.

as soon as you and luigi make eye contact with each other, you both freeze. you haven’t seen each other in, what, a month? even though it isn’t that long, it’s still felt like eternity.

you take a long look at him, noting how different he looks now than he did a month ago, as he does the same to you. there’s no window to separate you two, so he can fully look at you — and the hungry look in his eyes tell you that he’s missed you terribly.

the guard behind your boyfriend gives him a rough pat on the shoulder. “three hours,” he says bluntly before going to close the door. the loud clank! makes you jump a little, but you’re too busy looking at your boyfriend currently.

as you both sit and stand there, staring at each other, it almost feels like you’re both frozen in time. you’re both unable to move, frozen in each other’s gazes. He looks like he wants to pounce on you, but he’s holding himself back.

you gulp, and your mind goes nuts — oh, gosh, what if he didn’t want the conjugal visit? after all, you weren’t sure if luigi even wanted to get intimate with you. what were you thinking? he’s not stupid enough to want to get laid with some girl that’s been sending him letters and visiting him for the past year—

you’re shaken out of your thoughts when you feel the bed shift under you, and once you’re out of it, you see that he’s sat down next to you.

he’s silent as he stares at you, his eyes roving over your body. It’s like he’s committing you to memory, the way he’s looking so intently at you — as if he’s trying to memorize every single detail on you.

“you look...” he starts to say, his voice sounding rough. “you look…”

he can’t find the words to describe how absolutely beautiful you look to him right now, so he decides to show you instead.

before you even notice it, he’s leaning towards your lips and capturing them in a painfully slow, deep kiss — he kisses you like a man starved, like he’s been in a desert for a year and you’re his only drink of water. his tongue pushes against your lips, searching for any kind of entrance to slip in and deepen the kiss.

he brings one hand to your cheek, caressing and holding you close as he slips in his tongue into your mouth. the way he’s kissing you right now is desperate, like a man starved for so long that you’re his only salvation now.

the kiss is wet, sloppy, and messy, but you hardly care. his tongue moves against yours with a fervor that you hadn’t expected, and you swear you can feel yourself melt under it.

you whimper into the kiss, bringing one tentative hand to his bicep and gripping the fabric of his jumpsuit tightly. he’s leaning over you now, and your back is hitting the cheap mattress as he traps you underneath him.

he pulls away from your lips for a moment to catch his breath, a line of saliva still connecting you two by your mouths. he takes a long moment to look at your face, before diving back in to kiss your jaw and neck with fervor.

his tongue and teeth graze over your skin as he takes his time to map over the expanse of your neck, nipping and sucking and biting at your flesh. he’s still so gentle with it, being weary of not leaving any actual marks and signs of bruising.

your hands now move to his back, gripping at his jumpsuit as he makes his way over your neck, your collarbones, the top of your chest. he’s taking his time, wanting to worship every inch of bare skin on you.

you can feel the heat emanating from his body as he continues to caress, kiss, and nip at your skin. he brings a hand to the front of your blouse, quickly fiddling with the buttons and undoing them a bit too fast.

he eventually finishes unbuttoning your blouse, and once you’re open, he starts to kiss down the valley of your breasts. his lips on your skin feel like he’s burning you, leaving an intense and searing heat in their wake.

your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest at this point, your pulse fast and heavy as he continues his descent down your body. he moves with purpose, as if he’s on a mission to explore your body.

“you’re so beautiful,” he mutters against your skin. “you’re so perfect.”

his words make something twist in your stomach, and you shiver a little. you feel a little vulnerable underneath him right now, but in a good way — he’s making you feel like the only thing that means anything in the world right now is you and only you.

he pulls away from your skin for a moment, sitting up and staring down at you. he takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, lying on the bed, blouse unbuttoned and showing a bit of cleavage. he licks his lips before he reaches for the hem of your skirt.

he tugs at it once, and his hand brushes against your skin. you shudder a bit, but nod once when he looks at you for confirmation.

he takes another moment to admire you before slowly pulling your skirt down and off of you, tossing it to the floor.

you’re only in your bra and panties now, with him still in his grey jumpsuit, but he doesn’t look bothered. he takes a moment to look over you, making sure to appreciate every inch of you.

your panties are the first to go, him pulling them off your legs and letting them fall to the floor, joining your skirt on the ground. he takes his time with your bra though, fumbling with the hooks and clasps of your bra in an attempt to undo it.

the moment he manages to undo your bra, he pulls it off of you with a little force, letting it fall down on the floor. he’s back on top of you the moment that happens, and he’s quick to go to your neck, pressing kisses and licks up and down in quick succession.

“you’re beautiful,” he pants in between kisses. “you’re so, so beautiful. i can’t… i can’t even get enough of you—”

he pushes himself up a bit, his hands going to your waist as he continues to look at your body with utter reverence. he’s still looking at you like you’re one of the wonders of the world, like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s seen in his life.

“i wanna make you feel good.”

you shiver a bit at that, a small chill running up your spine. you nod again, unable to form words right now.

he moves his hands to your hips, shifting himself over you to get a better angle. you can feel the bulge in his jumpsuit press up against you, and you shudder at the contact.

“i want you to feel so good,” he repeats, his words coming out more like a breath against your skin. “i want to make you feel so, so good—”

he gives your hip a squeeze, pressing his bulge up against you, and you whimper and squirm underneath him.

you can feel your panties starting to grow more and more damp with every little touch and press of his body, and it’s almost embarrassing how fast you’re getting needy and desperate. your head is starting to feel hazy as he continues to shower you with kisses.

you’re growing restless now, almost frustrated, and he knows exactly what to do to help satiate the fire he’s ignited in you. he brings one hand under your body, finding its place right in between your thighs.

he palms you through your panties, and you let out a strangled moan — the sound comes out before you can stop it, and you cover your mouth with your palm.

he lets out a small chuckle against your neck, the slight puff of air making you shudder even more. his palm is still pressed against you, and he rubs against your panties with a sort of expertise that you didn’t even know he had.

“gosh,” you manage to stutter out, your words breathy as you try to find them. “luigi, please—”

your words are interrupted by another press of his palm against you, and you let out another strangled moan against your hand.

the way you’re squirming and mewling under him is starting to drive him wild, and as much as he wants to keep up being gentle, he’s starting to feel a little desperate himself.

“please, what?” he whispers hotly against your skin. “you gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

he pushes against you with a bit more pressure, and your hips grind up against his hand, trying to chase after the pleasure he’s giving you. you feel a little desperate right now, and it’s definitely showing.

you bite back a moan as he continues to rub against you, his touches getting a little rough now as he starts to toy with you.

“c’mon, baby,” he pants. “say something. use your words.”

you whine a bit, bringing a hand to thread through his curls as you try to find your voice. he’s still touching you roughly, and the way he’s rubbing against your clothed clit is driving you absolutely crazy.

“please,” you gasp aloud, closing your eyes tightly, “please, please, please, i need you—”

even with the barrier of your panties between you two, his touches are making you burn with a fire you never felt in your life.

“need me to what, sweetheart?” he murmurs, his voice sounding rough in your ear. “be specific. tell me what you need.”

he presses down on your clit a little harder, and the pressure makes you writhe underneath him, your fingers gripping at the fabric on his back.

your breathing is becoming more labored, your words escaping in gasps and whimpers that are starting to sound like moans. you’re not even able to complete a full sentence with how distracted and overwhelmed you are, and he’s not making it any easier by the way he’s rubbing circles into you.

“i can’t hear you,” he teases, the tone of his voice bordering on sadistic now. “you’re gonna have to speak up.”

his hand starts to toy with the waistline of your panties, tugging a little at the elastic.

“i— i need you,” you manage to choke out, your voice sounding desperate and needy. “i need you, i need you, lu—“

he shushes you with a kiss, silencing you for a moment as he slides his tongue into your mouth.

he lets his tongue press against yours, silencing any other words that might escape you for the moment. while he’s kissing you, he slides his hand into your panties, and you gasp into the kiss at the feeling.

he takes advantage of your open mouth and lets his tongue delve in even more, trying to savor the taste of you. he slips a finger in you, and you have to pull away from the kiss to gasp, your arms digging into the broad expanse of his back.

“oh, shit—“ you can’t even control the words anymore. “luigi, please…”

“please, what?” he repeats, as if he has you on the edge and he’s loving it. “keep talking, baby, be specific, and i’ll give you exactly what you want.”

he’s teasing you, playing with you. you’re practically panting now, your body a writhing mess of need and desperation.

“please,” you pant out, your head thrown back against the pillow as you try to control your breathing. “i need you, oh please, oh, please—“

“need me to…?” he prompts once again, his voice dripping with fake innocence as he teases you. “i have no idea what you’re trying to say, sweetheart—“

“you know what I’m trying to say,” you whine, your back arching from the bed when he brushes against a particularly sensitive spot. “you’re just being mean, oh, please—”

“mean?” his voice is still dripping with that fake innocence. “i’m not being mean. i’m only trying to help. all you have to do, is tell me what you want, baby—“

his hand is still working at you, and the want that’s burning in your core is starting to feel agonizing.

“i need you,” your words are strangled now, your breath coming out in gasps. “i need you — i need your mouth—“

that makes him pause, the hand in your panties halting its movement as you hear him chuckle above you.

“my mouth, huh?” he sounds a little smug now. “you want my mouth, baby?”

you whine a little, and it almost sounds like a plea. “yes, yes, please,” you beg, your hips arching towards his hand. “please, i need it, luigi, please—"

“i’ll give it to you,” he says, his voice practically a growl as he moves down your body. “hold still for me for a moment — and don’t you dare cover your mouth, you hear me?”

you nod frantically, lifting your hands away from your mouth and gripping at the bed sheets instead. you’re panting already, your chest rising and falling in rapid succession as you wait for him.

he gets your legs over his shoulders now, his hands running up and down your thighs as he looks you over. you look positively wrecked already, your cheeks flushed, your back slightly arched. you need to use every bit of your willpower not to cover your mouth.

“look at you,” he murmurs, his voice rough. “you’re so perfect.”

he spreads your legs a bit more before he finally moves in, and you have to bite your lip in order to stop yourself from mewling out loud.

the moment the tip of his tongue connects with your core, you let out a shaky sigh, and your hands immediately go to his hair, tangling in the dark locks and tugging at them. it’s a good thing he likes having his hair pulled.

he works his tongue slowly at first, just exploring you first, learning you, trying to figure out what kinds of things make you tick. you writhe and writhe under him as he touches you, your fingers digging into the soft expanse of his hair.

“luigi,” you pant, your voice sounding strangled, “luigi, oh, please, oh, please—“

he seems to pick up the pace a moment before he looks up at your face. “louder, baby,” he says, his breath hot against your center. “i can’t hear you if you don’t speak up.”

you can’t help the whimper that escapes you at that, your body writhing as he continues his ministrations. you don’t want to be loud, you’re a little embarrassed. he seems to notice it though — he’s observant like that, the bastard.

“c’mon,” he coaxes, “don’t be shy. i wanna hear your pretty voice. be loud for me, baby.”

you look down at him, and his eyes seem to sparkle as you lock gazes.

he gives your core a swipe of his tongue, and your head falls back to the pillow as you let out the loudest moan you’ve ever let out. his grin gets wider when that happens, and he takes it like a damn challenge.

“oh, there it is,” he says, his voice almost purring as he goes at you with a fervor. “yeah, just like that, baby. go ahead and call my name.”

the way he’s working at you right now is driving you absolutely crazy. His tongue against you has a way of making you see stars, and you’re almost ashamed by the way you’re reacting to his every move.

“luigi, please,” you gasp in between moans. “oh, gosh, luigi, please—“

“yeah, you like that, sweetheart?” he pants between licks, his voice hot against your center. “tell me you like it, baby.”

you nod vigorously, not trusting yourself to speak right now. you’re practically writhing now, your hands gripping at the sheets and moaning with every little touch he gives you.

2 months later…

when you find out — the positive result of the pregnancy test clear as day in the small restroom of your workplace during your precious break— you’re more than a little stunned.

you’re pregnant. with luigi’s child.

you stare down at the pink plus sign on the test for a long moment, and you can’t help but feel your pulse quicken.

[un-creativename]

Yule Ball

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

It was the year 1994, almost four months from that dreadful day at the Quidditch World Cup. Almost four months since she broke things off with Fred after one too many comments from his mother about her and her family.

“What a coincidence seeing you here, Malfoy.”

Clearly, Fred Weasley did not get the memo.

“Coincidence?” She repeats as she raises an eyebrow in a mix of annoyance and suspicion. “The castle has seven stories and yet I’m expected to believe our meetings are pure coincidence?”

“Like I said, coincidence.”

The cocky smirk on his face should’ve aggravated her but after a year of their secret little tryst, she’d reluctantly grown fond of it. But she wasn’t naive by any means, Fred was as cunning as a Slytherin most times—a statement that he very quickly feigned offensive to when she mentioned it. There was no way he kept finding her on accident.

“How do you keep finding me, Weasley?”

“I have my ways,” He grins with a shrug. “But that’s besides the point, what’s this I hear about you hanging out with Pucey? I thought you didn’t socialize with your former affairs.”

Now that piece of information she wasn’t surprised he’d known about, not when most eyes were on her due to the Yule ball being just weeks away. “I’m speaking to you, aren’t I?” She mutters as she attempts to move past Fred.

As she tries to walk away, Fred swiftly blocks her path with a mischievous glint in his brown eyes. “Oh come on now, you know I’m different from him,” he teases as he moves to stand in front of her. “You actually love me.”

As they stood in front of each other, she felt a mix of frustration and longing wash over her. Fred seemed to have a skill at getting under her skin, despite how hard she fought to keep herself in check. She’d taken the plunge into a relationship with him early in their fifth year, something she didn’t or rather couldn’t find in her to regret.

“I loved Pucey.”

Fred's gaze softened slightly, a flicker of doubt crossing his features. He knew her well enough to sense when she was putting up walls. “Right,” he drawls, not at all convinced by her response. “Is that why you broke up with him after three months of being together? Because if we do that math, love, we were together for almost seven months more than you and Pucey. Wonder what that must mean?”

She rolls her eyes, trying to mask the way her heart skips at the reminder of their secret rendezvous. “It means you’re insufferable and persistent, Weasley. But now that’s over, so it’s high time we move on, don’t you think?”

Fred's jaw tightens at her words, his usual playful demeanor slipping for just a moment. "Move on?" he echoes, taking a step closer until she can feel the warmth radiating from him. "Tell me honestly, Malfoy, have you managed that yet? Because I haven't.”

His words hang heavy in the air, and she finds herself unable to look away from his eyes. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes that she hasn’t seen since they broke up the day after the World Cup. She’s desperate to ignore the heartache that passes through her. “The Yule Ball is weeks away, it’s the perfect chance to move on. For the both of us…”

Fred's expression hardens at her words, his hands clenching at his sides. "Right, because that's exactly what you want, isn't it? To watch me take some other witch to the ball while you go with someone daddy dearest picked out for you.”

She flinches at his words, the truth in them stinging more than she'd care to admit. "That's not fair and you know it," she says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“No, what’s not fair is that you broke up with me without even giving me a chance to defend you against my mum’s accusations.”

Her breath catches in her throat at the raw pain in his voice. She wants to tell him that it wasn't just his mother's words that drove her away, but the crushing realization of how doomed their relationship really was. The thought of watching him defend her against his own mother, potentially fracturing his family relationships, had been too much to bear.

She closes her eyes briefly, fighting back the emotions threatening to spill over. "I couldn't watch you lose your family over me. We both know how this story ends – a Malfoy and a Weasley, it's like some tragic tale waiting to happen. We would’ve broken up eventually…”

Fred's hand suddenly shoots out to grasp her wrist, his touch gentle despite the intensity in his eyes. "So you're telling me you'd rather live with 'what-ifs' than fight for us? That's not the fierce witch I fell in love with." His words hang in the air between them, heavy with unspoken emotions and possibilities.

“Yeah well, that witch you fell in love with has a family filled with blood supremacists. So forgive me if I didn’t think we’d last for much longer anyway. So, please—and you know I don’t say that often—just let me go.”

The silence between them stretches, heavy with unspoken words and shattered dreams. When he finally speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper, “If that’s what you want, fine—but don’t expect me to pretend I don’t still love you when I see you at the ball with whoever your dad chose.”

୨ ✦ ୧

The Great Hall was decorated in its finest Christmas splendor, ice sculptures glistening under the enchanted ceiling. Her burgundy dress robes swished softly against the floor as she danced with Robert Hoglund, a Durmstrang student her father had chosen for her. She couldn’t help but scan the crowd, inevitably landing on a head of ginger hair. Fred was dancing with Angelina Johnson, his usual cheerful smile in place, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. When their eyes met across the dance floor, she looked away quickly, tightening her grip on Hoglund’s shoulder. The music swelled around them, but she barely heard it over the thundering of her own heart. As Hoglund led her through another turn, she caught a glimpse of Fred whispering something in Johnson’s ear, making her laugh.

She forced herself to look away, reminding herself that this was how things had to be. The weight of her family name felt heavier than ever on her shoulders as she continued to dance with Hoglund, mechanically following the steps she’d been taught since childhood. Each twirl seemed to move her further away from what her heart wanted, but closer to what was expected of a Malfoy.

“Miss Malfoy?” Hoglund called in his thick accent, pulling her from her thoughts. “Would you like to take a step outside? You seem…distracted.”

She forces a polite smile, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Fresh air would be lovely, yes,” she responds, allowing him to lead her towards the entrance. As they walk, she can’t help but feel Fred’s gaze burning into her back, and she silently curses herself for still being so aware of his presence.

The cool night air hits her face as they step out into the courtyard, providing temporary relief from the stifling atmosphere inside. She takes a deep breath, trying to clear her mind of the ginger haired twin. Hoglund stands beside her, maintaining a respectful distance that annoyingly makes her miss Fred’s casual invasions of personal space even more.

Hoglund clears his throat, drawing her attention back to him. “You know,” he starts with hesitation, his accent thick with uncertainty. “I can tell your heart isn’t in this. Perhaps we should call it a night?” The suggestion, though politely delivered, carries a layer of understanding that makes her relax.

She nods, feeling a mix of relief and shame at his perceptiveness. “Thank you for understanding,” she manages, her voice barely above a whisper. As Hoglund bows and turns to leave, she catches a flash of movement near the entrance to the Viaduct courtyard, and she hates the way her heart stutters when she recognizes that familiar silhouette lingering in the shadows.

Fred steps out of the shadows, the moonlight catching his features in way that makes her unable to look away from him. His dress robes are slightly disheveled, his bow tie loose around his neck. “You had me worried for a second there, Malfoy. What’s a bloke too think when the witch he loves leaves a ball with another guy?”

She stares at him, her heart racing at his sudden appearance. “You should be with your date,” she whispers. The moonlight casts shadows across his face, making it harder for her to maintain her resolve as she takes another step towards her.

“She’s more interested in George, which is great for me, I’m more interested in blond Slytherin witches anyway.”

She hates the way her heart flutters at his words, once again putting her mind and heart at war. “Must you be so persistent?" she asks, wrapping her shawl tighter when a cold breeze blew past, trying her best to feign annoyance though she’s sure he doesn’t believe her.

“You love me for it,” Fred replies, taking another step closer until they’re merely inches apart. His fingers brush against her arm, and she can’t help but shiver–though whether from the cold or his touch, she’s not entirely sure.

Her gaze flickers down to his lips before she can stop herself, fully aware of the twitch of a smile he does when he notices. “Freddie,” she whispers, his name a warning and a plea all at once, but he’s already leaning in, his forehead resting against hers. In this moment, with the distant sounds of the ball fading into the background noise, she finds her carefully constructed walls beginning to crumble a lot faster than she would’ve hoped. “Why’re you so hard to get rid of?”

“Because you’re impossible to forget,” he murmurs against her lips, his hands coming up to her face. “And clearly you don’t want to get rid of me yet, you would’ve hexed me by now if you did.”

She lets out a shaky breath, her resolve weakening with every passing second. The familiar warmth of his touch, the sound of his voice so close to her–it was all becoming too much to resist. Before she even realizes what she’s doing, she’s tilting her head up, closing the gap between them as their lips meet in a kiss that feels like coming home.

Time seems to stand still in this moment, the world around them fading into nothing but background noise. His hands thread through her hair, careful not to disturb the intricate updo she'd spent hours perfecting, while her fingers grip the lapels of his dress robes. When they finally break apart, both slightly breathless, she can see the familiar mischievous glint returning to his eyes.

“Fancy a trip to the Room of Requirement? Because personally, I think a certain Princess owes me a dance.”

She can’t help but laugh, the sound mixing with distant echoes of the ball. “Contrary to Draco’s behavior, Malfoys aren't really royalty,” she says, but she’s already reaching for his outstretched hand.

Fred’s grin widens as he tugs her closer. “Well you’re royalty to me,” he says, pressing a quick lingering kiss to her temple. “Now come on, I’m owed a dance after bravely watching you dance with some Durmstrang git for over an hour.”

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

©un-creativename : All rights reserved. Do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

[xinganhao]

a peek into the process that was making catch you when i can.

(1) vernon x rockstar!reader was largely unnamed for the most part. i only figured that it at least deserves a title when i revamped the series masterlist, but the answer was pretty instant.

i start (and end) the story with vernon and reader saying a variation of 'catch you when i can', which is established in part one as "something exchanged as often as 'i love you'." i feel like it captures the struggles of a long-distance relationship very well. it's also a shameless reference to the iconic leonardo di caprio and tom hanks film lol:

(2) this wasn't supposed to be a series, honestly. part two was my attempt to cope with svt's new york shows, and i was convinced that i would end it with the cliffhanger of rockstar!reader accidentally posting vernon on her main instagram. but the verse just wouldn't let me go— hence, the full-blown smau.

(3) the 'vernhow' style headcanons for part three are probably my favorite style of headcanons not only for this series, but also my entire blog. getting to play around with it was so fun. buried in it is the crux of what would eventually be the ending: "Everybody now knows that you, Chwe Hansol, have a girlfriend. Someone you want so bad that you'll go back on all the things you believe."

(4) when i first referenced john mayer's Edge of Desire in part three, i wasn't quite thinking of his 2010 hollywood bowl performance just yet.

i revisited it when i was facing intense writer's block for the final chapter and everything flowed easily after that. part five is best read with that version of the song playing (linked as suggested listening lol) because i wrote nearly the entire thing while looping the track.

↳ this part in the song reminded me of how part four's headcanons were entirely about vernon's definition of 'fight', and how— despite his willingness to keep going with the relationship— it's ultimately a two-way street. it doesn't matter how much one tries. if, at the end of the day, the two of you aren't in it together? then the relationship will end. plain, simple, harsh.

↳ in the first part, the headcanons touch on vernon not being a big believer in "long-distance relationships or relationships in general," which all completely change after he starts dating reader. the real clincher, though, is how vernon spends much of part five being a 'terrible' ex: unable to go without contact, still supportive as ever. as the song goes: he's scared you'll forget about him.

(5) part five intentionally uses the first nine or so panels from an outsider's perspective. i wanted to really drive home the struggle of their public relationship and how it might have taken its toll/strain on the couple. it's what eventually inspired the brief headcanons, ala-he said, she said.

(6) i almost made vernon specifically reference romcoms with airport reunions in the finale, but i didn't want to isolate readers who might have not seen said films lol. the movies that would have been referenced were love actually (2003) and serendipity (2001).

(7) my top three panels in no particular order are—

was obsessed with a panicked vernon going "my gorgeous princess wife babygirl" + very characteristic of him to suddenly swoon when one of his favorite bands is brought up + something about vernon wanting a do-over on his 'hard launch' is just. #real.

(8) Black Eye is first mentioned in a part two headcanon where reader performs it in a speakeasy in front of vernon. it's posed as the moment that vernon realized he might he in love.

this makes it all the more cruel how reader unwittingly jokes that Black Eye is a breakup song in part five. i chose to conclude the series on the track's anniversary for no other reason than me needing a specific deadline to wrap stuff up lol.

(8.1) i think i do recall having some of Black Eye bleed into the work, which might be evident in the following lyrics & consequent story parallels:

running 'round the whole city looking for someone -> ties in to part two, where the headcanons are based on how vernon and reader feel about new york city i can't stand the quiet/is anyone out there? is anyone out there? -> best encapsulated in how vernon continues to contact reader post-break up (also parallels mayer's 'i'm scared you'll forget about me') i'm on my worst behavior, don't stop me now -> in part four, vernon gets into a physical altercation with the press in defense of reader and he's adamant that he did the right thing i'm okay, i'll just let it burn around me -> best captures vernon in part five + another parallel to mayer, where a part in the song goes 'i'm just about to set fire to everything i see'

(9) ending this with what i anticipate to be part of the faqs, post-main story: why did vernon and reader break up just to get back together again?

the long answer: because people are messy. because we think we know best— for ourselves, for others— and so we act on those impulses in the name of self-preservation, or care, or whatever noble thing you want to call it. people are complex and complicated, and with that comes regret, romance, and everything in between.

"they should have just worked it out!" they did try. it's human nature to feel slighted when things don't work out in your favor. there's only so much tenacity that a person can have before they're cursing the universe for the cards they're dealt, so can vernon/reader really be blamed for fraying?

"the breakup was unnecessary!" i could argue that it isn't. say some bs about it being very necessary, in fact, for character development, plot progression (lol), 'not realizing what you have until it's gone'. the works. but admittedly? i agree.

we— vernon and reader included— make questionable choices. whether or not we double down, move on, or circle back is an entirely different story in itself. vernon and reader found their way back; not all of us are as lucky. but some of us can be, some of us have been, and that was enough for me to trust that the story would sail.

the knowledge that, at the end of the day, the love that 'wins' is the one that makes the work worth it.

the short answer: i just really wanted them to have a happy ending. god knows they deserve it.

thank you for reading and enjoying this little story! it was mine once, but it's all yours now. ❥

catch you when i can (vernon x reader)

⤿ a five-part series charting vernon's relationship with you, an international rockstar.

𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 —

✮ part one, the one with the origin story. ✮ part two, the one where vernon tours in your city. ✮ part three, the one where you go public. ✮ part four, the one about fighting. ✮ part five, the one where a choice has to be made.

ⓘ international rockstar!f!reader, long distance relationship, established relationship, use of pet names. fluff, angst. cussing.

annotations for the main verse.

𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐒 —

there's nothing here yet! :)

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈��𝐋 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 —

with love, kae ✎ i adore this verse so, so much that asks (i.e. drabbles, headcanons, smaus) for it will be perpetually open, regardless of whether or not my main requests are open. as always, this wouldn't have come to light without the anon who asked for it in the first place! i'm eternally indebted.

thank you for reading catch you when i can. <3

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

[hsnlv]

soft beginnings | s.jy

pairing: dad-to-be!jake x mom-to-be!reader

synopsis: you and jake are getting ready for your baby, but jake’s full of doubts about fatherhood. with plenty of laughter, love, and tiny socks, you learn that even the smallest moments can mean the world.

warnings: fluff!, jake has self-doubt but it’s adorable dont worry >< reader is pregnant if that is not clear (i love pregnant tropes actually because it’s cute hehe)

wc: 1.1k

a/n: ive been writing a lot lately since im currently on semester break but enjoy ^^

jake sat on the nursery floor, holding a pair of impossibly small socks between his fingers like they were some kind of alien artifact. his brows were furrowed, lips pressed into a pout that you would’ve called adorable if he wasn’t so deadly serious.

“okay, babe,” he said finally, holding the socks up for emphasis. “these cannot be for a human. i don’t care what you say.”

you couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing from your spot on the rocking chair, where you were sorting through a mountain of baby clothes. “jake, they’re for a newborn. they’re supposed to be that tiny.”

he squinted at the socks like they might reveal their secrets if he stared long enough. “nope. sorry. these are for a hamster. or maybe a very small rabbit.”

“are you calling our baby a rabbit?” you teased, grinning as you leaned back in the chair.

“i’m just saying,” he continued, waving the socks around like he was making a grand point. “what if their feet don’t fit? what if their toes are too big? i don’t even know what baby feet look like!”

you laughed so hard that tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. “you’re ridiculous.”

“i’m serious!” he insisted, though the twitch of his lips betrayed him. “what if i try to put these on and they just… fall off? or what if i lose one? it’s not like i can run to the store and ask for replacement jellybean-sized socks!”

that did it—you dissolved into giggles, your belly shaking as you leaned forward. “jake, you’re going to be fine,” you said, wiping your eyes. “i promise, putting socks on a baby isn’t as hard as you think.”

he flopped dramatically onto his back, groaning. “i’m not ready for this.”

“you are,” you said, crawling over to him and sitting on your knees by his side. you rested your chin on his chest, tilting your head to look up at him. “you’re going to be the best dad ever.”

he gazed down at you, his expression softening, but you could still see the hint of doubt in his eyes. “you really think so?”

“i know so,” you said, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of his face. “you’ve got the dad jokes down already. the rest is just practice.”

he groaned again, dragging a hand down his face. “yeah, but what about the important stuff? like… like making bottles. or changing diapers! do you know how many straps and tabs those things have? it’s like trying to assemble IKEA furniture!”

you snorted, pressing your forehead to his chest as you laughed. “it’s not that bad.”

“it is that bad,” he said, sitting up suddenly. his hands flailed a bit as he tried to explain. “and what if i don’t wake up when the baby cries? or—or what if i hold them wrong? what if i drop them? oh my god, what if i don’t know how to swaddle? they’re gonna hate me.”

“jake.” you placed your hands on his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. “take a deep breath.”

he inhaled shakily, his wide eyes locking onto yours.

“you’re not going to drop the baby,” you said firmly. “or hold them wrong. and even if you mess up the first swaddle, or it takes you a few tries to get the diaper right, it’s okay. you’ll figure it out.”

he didn’t look entirely convinced, so you leaned closer, your voice softer now. “do you remember when we first got peanut?”

he blinked, his brows furrowing. “our dog?”

“yeah. you were so nervous about training him. you kept googling everything, and you were convinced he was going to hate you because you couldn’t get him to sit on command.”

jake huffed, his lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “okay, yeah, but peanut was a little menace at first.”

“he was,” you agreed, grinning. “but you didn’t give up. you were so patient and sweet with him, and now he listens to you better than he listens to me.”

jake let out a soft laugh, his shoulders relaxing a bit.

“it’s going to be the same with the baby,” you said, brushing your thumbs gently over his cheekbones. “you’re going to love them so much that none of the little mistakes will matter. and they’re definitely not going to hate you for struggling with a diaper or two.”

“you sure about that?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

“absolutely,” you said, smiling.

he sighed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. “what would i do without you?”

“probably drown in a pile of tiny socks,” you teased, laughing softly.

“you’re not wrong,” he muttered, but he was smiling again.

you both sat there for a moment, the quiet hum of the nursery filling the air. then jake pulled back slightly, his hand drifting to your belly.

“hey, little one,” he murmured, his voice soft and warm. “just so you know, your mom’s the best person in the world. so if i mess up, she’s gonna make sure you’re taken care of. and if you could, uh… maybe go easy on me with the diapers, that’d be great.”

you laughed, swatting at his shoulder. “stop making deals with the baby!”

“what? i’m just saying!” he said, grinning.

he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your belly, murmuring something too quiet for you to hear. when he sat up again, his eyes were brighter, his usual spark returning.

“okay,” he said, grabbing the tiny socks and holding them up like a trophy. “we’re definitely framing these.”

“i knew you’d come around,” you said, smiling as you kissed his cheek.

the rest of the afternoon was spent folding onesies and arranging books on the shelves, with jake tossing out ridiculous questions every five minutes.

“what if the baby doesn’t like my cooking?”

“jake, they’re not going to eat anything you cook for at least a year.”

“what if they cry every time i pick them up?”

“then you’ll hold them until they stop crying.”

“what if they call me ‘dude’ instead of ‘dad’?”

“then they’re definitely your kid.”

by the time the sun dipped below the horizon, the nursery was mostly finished. the crib stood in the corner, draped with a soft, pastel blanket, and the bookshelf was packed with stories you couldn’t wait to read aloud.

you stood in the doorway with jake, his arm around your shoulders as you both took in the space.

“it’s perfect,” you murmured, leaning into his side.

“almost perfect,” he said, resting a hand on your belly. “just missing one thing.”

you smiled, your hand covering his. “they’ll be here soon enough.”

he pressed a kiss to your temple, his voice filled with quiet awe. “soon enough,” he echoed.

and in that moment, surrounded by love and laughter and the promise of something even sweeter, you knew your little family was already complete in all the ways that mattered.

[thefallennightmare]

The Ties That Bind Us: One

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit.*

•Parings• Noah Sebastian x Soulmate!Reader.

•Word Count• 2,268

•Warnings• fluff, language, talks of death/sickness, angst, depression, dark thoughts, soft!Noah, smut that will include unprotected p in v, oral with both male and female receiving, hand jobs, and fingering. Pretty tame smut in this.

•Summary• Growing up, Noah’s grandparents told him the story of why everyone wore a red tie around their wrists and while theirs glowed while his didn’t.

“Yours will glow when you meet your soulmate, Noah.”

When someone moves in next door and catches Noah’s eyes immediately, he sees the red tie around her wrist glowing only to see his remains red. Convinced she’s not his soulmate, Noah tries hard to stay away from her yet small moments between them start to blossom. So much so, he can’t ignore the tie that binds them together

•Authors Note• As I previously stated, even though this is a "reader insert", there will be moments I describe the reader because it pertains to the story. I'm not quite sure how many chapters this will be, I'm thinking around ten but it could change. I'm also sorry this chapter seems very short, but I figured it doesn't need to be super long with an introductory chapter.

•Tags• @artificialbreezy @blueskylinesx @dominuslunae @lobolocaamo @lilcrazy011 @badomensls @shayeanna-ashlie @supersquirrel1996 @missduffsblog @nicelittlenightmares @curse-bearing-hips @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @chey-h @idontwantthemoney @heyyoplayer @amelia-acero @xmads-omensx @poisongirl616 @theanarchymuse95 @trvshdxddy @thisbicc @losingmyselfinthoughts @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @klutzy-kay24 @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @collidewiththesavannah @tosoundlessdarkistare @rumoured-whispers @dontwantthemoney

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NOAH

Growing up, my grandma would always tell me the same thing whenever I asked her about the weird red tie around my wrist. 

“An invisible red thread connects those destined to be together, regardless of time, place or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but will never break.”

When I asked her why hers and my grandpa’s glowed the same color, her answer was simple. 

“We’re both soulmates. Destined to be with each other.”

I always thought the idea of soulmates was a bunch of bullshit people told to make up reasons why we all were born with these ties. I spent many hours trying to cut or rip it off but it wouldn’t budge. My grandma’s words echoing in my head once again. 

“The only way to remove a bind is with death.”  

The soft breeze filtered through my hair as I adjusted the beanie over my head, opening the door wider so my guest could leave. Yet while I stood on the front porch waiting for her to stop talking with Michael, I messed with the red bind around my wrist like I typically did. I’d been expecting to see it glow for the last few years once I reached the age of twenty one yet here I was at twenty four with the still same red bind around my wrist. 

“So, can I call you?” 

Snapping my eyes away from my wrist to the woman in front of me, her bind also red, I gave her a curt nod. “Sure, I guess.” 

I didn’t miss the way her smile faltered with my words and when she crossed her arms over her chest, I suddenly regretted not trying to be a bit more upbeat. It’s not like she was some stranger, she’d come over a few times before but it was never serious. I didn’t even remember her name most of the time which might have been wrong on my end but like I said, it wasn’t ever serious. Just someone to call when the nights were lonely. 

Wow, I sounded like a real asshole. 

“Maybe we can get coffee tomorrow?” I suggested while stuffing my hands deep into the pocket of my sweats. 

Whatever her name was smiled and nodded enthusiastically. “I would really love that, Noah.” 

Fuck. She said my name which means now I have to say her name. It's the respectful thing to do. 

I rubbed the back of my neck, long strands of hair tangled between my fingers. “Uh, yeah. Same here, uh-.” 

When I trailed off, unable to remember her fucking name, her lip snarled and threw her shoulder over her shoulder, bounding down the front steps. 

“You know what, don’t call me. I’m busy for the foreseeable future!” She called back, making sure to slam the door to her car as she sat inside. 

Shrugging, I didn’t bother to watch her peel out of the driveway and turned on my heels to head back inside when a commotion to my left made me pause. The house next door had been vacant for a few months now so when I saw a large moving truck parked in the driveway. With furrowed brows, I took a few steps closer to the edge of the front porch, the side closest to this house, and watched as someone walked up the ramp into the back of the truck. 

“New neighbors.” Jesse appeared next to me almost out of thin air, taking a rather large bite of his apple. 

“Since when?” I asked, giving him my attention now. 

He tapped my shoulder with the hand that didn’t hold the apple. “Since this morning. Someone was a bit preoccupied to notice.” 

Rolling my eyes, I flipped him the bird and gazed back towards the moving van, expecting to see a group of guys like ourselves emerge from the back of the truck. So when I saw a female figure walk out carrying a large box, my breath caught in my throat. The way her hair cascaded over her shoulders and how a soft melody seemed to echo in the wind over towards me; her singing some unknown tune. 

My eyes tracked every movement of her when she walked through the front door of the house. She was gone for less than a few minutes but the entire time, my heart beat wildly in my chest. It was something Jesse noticed but didn’t bother to tease because with a wave, he disappeared back into the house leaving me alone again on the porch.

The sunset had broken over the horizon, painting the grass in a glow of oranges and slight pinks. It all paled in comparison to the brightness that radiated from the woman next door as she stepped back out, pausing for a moment to roll up the sleeves of her sweater. 

“Shit,” I muttered when I saw the band on her left wrist vivid with a glow. 

Holding my breath, I yanked up the sleeve of my shirt hoping to see my own band glowing but felt my stomach drop when it was still that stupid red color. It was foolish to think that this gorgeous woman who moved in next door would randomly be my soulmate. Things didn’t work out that easy for me. I’d been dealt a shit hand in life so I should have figured that this wouldn't be any different. 

My soulmate isn't out there. I should learn to accept it. 

“Excuse me?” 

I whipped my head up from my wrist over towards the house next door, giving a very awkward wave to her. 

“H-hi,” my voice shook, showing my nerves. 

She gave me a warm smile nonetheless. “I’m sorry if this is weird but do you know when garbage day is? I’ve got stacks on stacks of boxes that are taking over my garage.” 

Her giggle danced in the air over towards me, wrapping itself around my heart, and I had to tell myself not to get attached by her damn laugh. If her bind was glowing while mine wasn't, that only meant one thing. 

“Uh, Thursdays,” I said after clearing my throat. “Recycling is every other week.” 

“Thank you,” she beamed with a tired smile. “We just moved in and the relator failed to mention that.” 

Stuffing my shaking hands in the pockets of my sweats, I did my best to not let her realize how the way she was looking at me affected me. 

“Well, if you need help or more tips on the neighborhood, I’m your guy,” I said with a lopsided smile. 

Even from the distance between us, I could still see her brow peak while she crossed her arms. “That’s very nice of you, thank you. But I don’t even know your name.” 

“It’s Noah.” 

Very briefly, the bind around her wrist flickered which didn’t seem to phase her because she gave me a curt nod. “Well, Noah, it's nice to meet you. I’m Y/N, your new neighbor.” 

I leaned against the fence that surrounded my porch. “Welcome to the neighborhood, Y/N.” 

Both of us stood frozen for a few beats, staring at one another, and as I felt an urge to ask her something, someone exiting the house made my body go rigid. 

“Love?” He called out towards Y/N, resting a hand on the frame of the door. “Do you need any help?” 

All it took was once glance at the man's wrist to see the matching glow with Y/N’s, indicating what I already knew. 

She had found her soulmate. 

You met her less than two minutes ago, idiot. Stop being so heartbroken. 

“What are you doing, Eric?” She nearly rushed over to him. “I told you I would bring in the rest of the boxes. You should be taking it easy.” 

Feeling suddenly out of place, I pushed myself off of the porch and dragged my feet back inside, doing my best to ignore the way I had once again got my hopes up for this soulmate bullshit. 

READER

“Are you alright?” I asked Eric, slowly helping him back into the house and over to the couch. 

Even though we moved in this morning, we had a moving company bring all of our heavy furniture a few days ago and set it up. Anything to help take the load off of Eric and I since it was me that did most of the packing and unpacking. 

He playfully pushed me away and sat on the couch himself. “I’m fine, Y/N. I just wanted to make sure you were still doing fine unloading the truck. It needs to be back by 8 tonight.” 

I nodded while throwing the blanket over his lap and quickly adjusting the black beanie on his head that came askew. “I have three more boxes to bring in. Will you be fine alone while I take the truck back? I can call someone to come stay with you.”

This caused Eric to raise a brow. “Who? We don’t know anyone here.” 

Right. Nearly forgot that. 

“But I’ll be fine. I already told you I can take care of myself for a bit. It’s mostly when you’re gone for the entire day that it gets rough.” 

Guilt filled my veins for a number of reasons so instead of unpacking the rest of the truck, I sat on the couch next to him, wrapping my arms around his midsection to feel his familiar warmth spread to me. I traced the various tattoos on his arms with my gaze, burning them into my memory so I could never forget the way they looked. 

The way he looked. 

“Your mustache is getting long,” I giggled while glancing up at him. 

With everything going on in our lives the last few weeks, Eric had basically forgot the upkeep to his mustache. Not that I ever complained though, I loved how that was the only facial hair he kept. 

“I know how much you love it,” he winked and pressed a weak kiss to my forehead. 

We laid there for a moment on the couch, enjoying each other's presence in our new yet quiet home. Things would be different here, they had to be. We gave up a lot to move to this city because of the opportunities that awaited us. 

“I met more of the neighbors,” I spoke after some silence. 

“Yeah?” Eric asked, running his tattooed fingers up and down my arm. 

“Noah. He told me trash days are on Thursdays. Recycling every other week.” 

He hummed. “Is that the one who always seems to be eating some sort of fruit?” 

I giggled while playfully smacking his chest. “No, that’s Jesse. He’s the one that recommended this great taco truck a few blocks down. I was thinking maybe I grab some on the way back from dropping off the truck. Our car is at the UHAUL place so I’d drive it home.” 

“Home,” Eric repeated the word. “I never thought we’d call California home. I thought we’d be stuck in Ohio forever.” 

Tucking my legs underneath me on the couch, I buried my face deeper into Eric’s sweater desperate to have his scent tattooed into my skin. 

“We had to move though, Eric. The cancer units here are far better than Ohio,” I reminded him, doing my best to not cry. 

I’d spent the last couple of months crying because of not only Eric’s cancer coming back but the news of this time, the chemo might not stop it from spreading. We refused to give up hope so one of Eric’s doctors recommended a program out here in California that was testing some new age chemo, one that possibly could help Eric's type of cancer. 

“Which reminds me,” Eric sighed. “My chemotherapy appointment has been moved up to 8 a.m tomorrow. Is that alright?” 

Blinking away the tears, I nodded with a long sigh. “With my new job, I can work from home and clock in wheenver just as long as I work a full eight hours.” 

His tender touch lifted my chin, forcing me to look into his brown eyes; ones that had lost their light over time. 

“I hope that you remember days like this, both of us sitting here together when you're living somewhere new. These things were never clearer in my head especially when peace was in our home and needs were met. Before my cancer.” 

“Eric,” I choked out. “Please don’t talk like you’re already gone. You’re still here, in my arms. We need to focus on that.” 

Reluctantly, he nodded, knowing that he wouldn’t win this fight. It was one we had often, him trying to tell me not to dwell on his death for long if it came. He wanted me to be happy. But the glowing binds on our wrists for each other gave me hope that Eric would overcome this, like he had before. 

Forgetting about the boxes that needed to be unpacked, I let my eyes flutter shut with the sounds of Eric’s soft snores pulling me down to a slumber that my body had been craving. I couldn’t help but wonder of all the new opportunities we’d find here and possibly new friends as I thought of my neighbors, ones that seemed to be somewhat friendly. Especially the one with the longer hair out of the bunch. 

Noah. 

Exhaustion had taken both Eric and I, us falling asleep in each other's arms on the couch. Neither of us noticed our red binds flickering like a home losing its power in a raging thunderstorm.

[starburstminibot]

Ok, seeing the post about the playlist, you mentioned how Breakdown only gets his act together after finding out that Bee was carrying

So it got me thinking (and this has actually been in my mind since i first came across the au tbh), but how was it while Bee was like, carrying?? There's the fact that, at first, many of the bots probably don't like Breakdown too since, well, he was not the best bf let's be honest.

Idk, I'm just curious to how things were before Breakcheck came to see the world

(Im going out of town for a week and cant draw so im just answering this with a straight up fanfiction-esk paragraph I’m so sorry wish I could be artistic for you anon)

Long story short: the Autobots are very forgiving but they can also be petty motherfuckers.

I mean they welcomed Megatron among their ranks and treat him (for the most part) as an equal and sometimes even a friend. Of course, Megatron earned that trust after years and years of repentance.

I imagine Breakdown is going through a similar arc. He’s never really been THAT loyal to the Decepticon cause. He just… kinda ended up there and didn’t care enough to do anything about it. He views Autobots as these goody, righteous people that he doesn’t feel like he belongs with. So really… what’s left besides Decepticons (considering yourself a neutral at one point was pretty much a death wish. A faction was the only way to acquire any sort of Energon or medical attention. Something Optimus tried hard to avoid, but the reality was safety in numbers.) the only kinship Breakdown ever felt was with the Stunticons… and they’ve been scattered to who knows where… if they’re even still alive.

Except he did have one friend. A friend he’s somehow managed to keep despite being on opposite sides of the war. He tried to convince Bee to join the Decepticons a few times but it was never with genuine intent. Bee was too good for the Cons; Breakdown knew that. He asked to get a rile out of him more than anything. Of course Bee would retort with his own argument of why BD should defect. He was serious about it… but Breakdown knew his place. He’d already done too much…

Now the war is over. And the leader of his faction doesn’t even believe in the cause anymore. Now, Breakdown’s never been a fan of Megatron anyways, but he sure as hell is pissed off when he abandons them to go be buddies with the Autobots. Maybe Breakdown is a little jealous (Of course, he’d never admit it) That Megatron, possibly the cruelest and most unforgiving of them all, is allowed to be redeemed.

He feels betrayed. All the Decepticons do really… He feels like he was led down a path that would only end in self destruction and at the last moment, the one who was paving the way jumped ship, leaving them all to suffer the consequences alone.

He never even wanted this.

But it’s way too late now. He dug this grave and he’s going to see to it that he’s buried in it. But despite the betrayal, and most of the Decepticons now stabbing each other in the back, trying to claim whatever power they can while holding on to this flimsy cause they can barely call a functioning faction, he still has Bee… who is maybe more than just a friend at this point but that’s a lot of feelings Breakdown isn’t ready to unpack.

And he still runs every time it feels a little too good to be true. Still proclaims his loyalty to the Decepticons because he’s too stubborn to admit he’s on a sinking ship. And he still keeps his distance because he refuses to take Bumblebee down with him when it finally goes under.

And maybe they’ve got a fling going… and maybe the autobots start to catch on. It doesn’t matter though, Breakdown doesn’t stick around long enough to see their sneers.

Until… he finds out Bee’s carrying that is… because damn he may not be the best bot in the galaxy but he’s not a complete deadbeat.

And when it hits him… that he’s going to be a sire… well maybe… he start’s sticking around to see the sneers. He hears the mumbles of disapproval. And boyyy does it make him so angry at first. How dare these holier-than-thou bots. They don’t know him or what he’s had to do to survive. How many comrades he’s lost thanks to them. They don’t know what Bee means to him. They don’t know just how much he loves Bumblebee. How he would lay down his spark for him in a klick.

Then Breakdown questions… Does Bee even know that?

From then on… Breakdown realizes, preserving his ego isn’t worth this. He has a chance now. A real honest chance. To do better… to have the life he actually wants… with the one bot who hasn’t ever given up on him.

He wants it so bad.

So he puts up with the comments and the obvious distrust. Because he’s willing to put in the work it takes to earn it. He’s going to prove how much he wants this. He’s going to prove how much he cares. He’s going to prove he is capable of doing better… and maybe along the way he’ll learn… he’s deserving of better too…

Breakdown is lucky Bumblebee has always been a little spoiled because it didn’t take too much convincing for the autobots to give him a shot. To attempt to accept him into their ranks.

He thought Optimus would be the worst of it. The one who practically raised the bot Breakdown knocked up. And for a while it is. Optimus lectures him every chance he gets. Any small hiccup, any little mistake. He doesn’t go easy on breakdown. Optimus at least pretends to be polite about it, or at least professional.He doesn’t yell, or make unnecessary insults. His words are always very honest (which makes them that much harder to hear) but Breakdown will take it… he’ll sit through it, no matter how hard he has to bite his tongue against saying something he’ll regret. He knows how thin the ice is. But he’ll do it for Bee.

The others are a little more brutal… Elita especially so… they are more sharp with their words (and sometimes their blasters) letting him know just what they think of him.

But no… the worst of all… is Megatron. Because Megatron is probably the only bot in the whole faction who looks at him and empathizes. Breakdown doesn’t want empathy. Especially not from the damn bot who betrayed him. Megatron doesn’t give lectures, he doesn’t verbally or physically abuse him when he steps out of line. He barely even raises his voice. And it pisses Breakdown off more than anything. Sometimes he slips up in front of Megatron just to push his boundaries, just to see if he can break this peaceful facade the ex-brutal-dictator seems to be taking. He’s witnessed the warlord beat bots into scrap for far less… and yet… Megatron won’t. Megatron seems to be attempting to guide Breakdown, to offer a new start to their relationship, and Primus Breakdown wants nothing to do with it. He’d rather be lectured and assigned extra training.

And it takes a long while… longer than Bee’s carrying term, and a little while into Breakcheck’s sparklinghood for the Autobots to really start to come around to him. Optimus’ lectures seem to have a bit of fondness to them. And perhaps Breakdown listens a bit more earnestly and takes to heart some of the genuine advice the Prime gives him. And maybe the sparring with Elita has turned less from a one-sided fight and into an enjoyable workout. And MAYBE… he doesn’t intentionally push Megatron as much, and has come to a realization of his own that his Megatron… is nothing like the one who betrayed him… and perhaps there is more in common between them than he’d like to admit.

And when people look at him now, he’s not just the Con Bumblebee has been sneaking around with. He’s a Sire… and a devoted Conjux…

And maybe this is what he’s always wanted. And he can be deserving of it too.

[junixscribble]

SCREAMS ur responses are so good ty for feeding us I'm so excited for your writing omggg

ANYWHO. SO. You mentioned Jayce giving Viktor a raspberry and also the tags on the s2 art so~ let's humor that~

Raspberries are arguably one of the most childish and intimate forms of tickling because well duh. I feel like Viktor probably never had a raspberry before Jayce (at least not one he remembers). He probably saw parents blow raspberries onto their giggling kids and thought to himself "I guess it's funny, or feels weird". Never considered just how bad it could tickle.

Jayce on the other hand is FULL OF LOVE and definitely has fuzzy memories of his mom pressing her lips to his belly when he was younger. Even just tickly kisses would take him down! He's a tummy guy.

Anyway, I feel like Jayce would suddenly remember that he can Do That to Viktor one day, and he just HAS to try it out. Poor Viktor probably looks in absolute horror as Jayce pushes his shirt up and takes a big breath in Like???? What are you DOING Jayce?!?!? Then when he touches down, Viktor SCREAMS. Like full on EEEEEEEEEEs because holy shit it tickles so so so bad. Probably knocks his head against the floor as he shrieks. Jayce has big ol powerful cheeks and a scratchy face (before the beard) so it's unbearable 💔

Poor Jayce probably gets a metal leg brace to the head as Viktor jerks his legs involuntarily. And oh boy does Vik blush because ??? WHAT WAS THAT????

You know how I said I was taking so long cause I had Ideas? Well. Here you go!

Fruit

Title: Fruit

WC: 1376w

Summary: Tensions are high in the lab with tight deadlines. Arguments are had, resolved, and when under inordinate amounts of pressure one must make time for stupidity.

——————

Viktor rested his head against the blackboard, sighing. Work had been trying lately. The council was expecting something big, and fast, so he and Jayce often found themselves burning the midnight oil more often than not. Their late nights and stressed disposition had led to a decent few arguments, mainly about stupid things such as who left the dishes all over the kitchen. Most recently it had been about an equation that had ended up half rubbed out - neither of them could decide who had done it, and both were saddled with figuring out what had been written down and rewriting it. 

They had been ignoring each other for most of the day, and to be honest Viktor was tired of it. These hours only passed quickly when there was chatter and ideas being thrown about like darts at a board. With nothing but chalk scratching breaking the silence, the seconds were painful. Usually Jayce was the one to break such silences, but he had been steadfastly soldering one of his gauntlets for the past hour and a half. 

For once in his life, Viktor put his stubborn nature aside and relented. He set his chalk down and wiped his hand on the side of his pants before walking over to Jayce, leaning on his crutch. Jayce didn’t look up on his approach, and Viktor stood awkwardly by him for a full minute until he put down the soldering iron.

“If you have something to say, say it.” Jayce said through gritted teeth. Viktor shifted his weight awkwardly. 

“I… am sorry. About the equation. Truthfully, the last few days have been melding into each other, and I can’t remember who wiped the board. It very well could have been me.” 

Jayce sat up straighter, genuine surprise in his eyes. “You’re not here to berate me some more?”

Viktor flushed, looking aside. It was hard to keep composure when Jayce was looking at him like a kicked puppy. “No. I should not have done so in the first place.” 

There was a moment of silence where Viktor was convinced Jayce was going to turn his back on him, but before the idea could make a home in his head Jayce was up and his arms were wrapped around him. 

“It’s okay. We’ve been working hard, and I’ve said some things I regret too. Still partners?” Jayce asked, pulling back slightly. 

Viktor allowed himself a smile and put a hand on Jayce’s shoulder. “Of course. Now, I’m sure I have some alcohol in here from last time…” 

…

The next few days were a complete turn around from the stress. Now that they weren’t on edge around each other the ideas were flowing and problems that seemed impossible suddenly had clear solutions. 

“Ha! If I reverse the polarity on this, it will stop the hex crystal from spinning out of control!” Viktor exclaimed, nearly throwing his screwdriver. Jayce pushed away from his workbench and cheered. 

“Man, we are on a roll.” He sat contended for a bit before furrowing his brow. “Vik, I’ve just realised I’ve never asked you about your family.” 

Viktor turned to face him, amused. “And what started this train of thought?”

Jayce shrugged. “I was just thinking.” 

“Dangerous, coming from you. Anyway, there was never much to speak of. Never had siblings, my father was absent before I was born, and my mother passed when I was quite young. As was the way of most in Zaun.” Viktor said.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“Don’t be. The life I lead now… it makes up for it.” 

Jayce tilted his head to the side and smiled. “Aw, I’m glad to hear I’m like your family.”

Viktor sputtered. “I- what…well-”

Jayce laughed and shook his head. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. Ooooh, we should do family things! Have a big awkward dinner with aunts you’ve never met, create unnecessary drama,...”

“Jayce, it sounds like you are describing the council.” Viktor commented, half a laugh on his breath. 

Jayce mimed vomiting and pouted before lighting up like a candle. “No, of course not. I couldn’t do this with any members of the council.” 

Viktor assumed he was talking about their banter, so he smiled and turned back to his work. However, the minute he picked up his pen he was grabbed from behind and wrapped up in a hug. He squeaked in surprise and swore in his native tongue before going limp in his embrace - he’d learned there was no escaping Jayce when he got lovey-dovey. 

“You know something else families do?” Jayce sing-songed, being a dick about it.

“What, Jayce?” Viktor sighed, playing along. 

It turned out there was no verbal response to that question - that being because Jayce had taken the opportunity to worm his fingers under Viktor’s arms and start wiggling on his ribs. Viktor immediately curled in on himself and made a strangled noise, pushing at Jayce’s hands. 

“No! Jahayce, you bastard-” He yelled, squirming. Jayce just laughed, pulling him away from the bench and over to the couch they had set up. Viktor knew what that meant, and he knew it could lead to him not getting back to his work for at least an hour. When one of his moods struck Jayce was hard to escape - not that Viktor minded too much. He could admit he needed the break, and he could put up with Jayce. 

Nevertheless, he protested. “Jaaaayce JayceJayceJayce we can talk about this, no? You don’t have to- haha! You don’t have to do this!” 

“Oh, but I do.” 

Viktor half-fought Jayce trying to shove him down on the couch, swearing the whole time. The minute he was down, Jayce would go ham and he wouldn’t know peace. Despite the half-assed attempts at escape Jayce successfully pinned an already laughing Viktor to the couch, and Viktor braced himself. What came, however, was hands deftly pulling up his shirt in one quick movement. 

“What the fu-” was all Viktor managed before Jayce took a deep breath and blew a raspberry on his stomach. Now, Viktor had seen this done before - often parents with small children - but always assumed the resulting laughter was because of the general silliness of the action. Never in a million years had he expected it to tickle so fucking badly. 

Viktor let out what could only be described as a screech at the contact, immediately kicking out and bashing his head on the back of the couch. Jayce nuzzled his face into his tummy, grinning, and Viktor broke into a chorus of cackles. 

“JAHAYCE! Whahaha- whahat are you dohohoing??” 

“What do you think?” He replied, still speaking into Viktor’s stomach and by god he was going to dissolve because his stubble made it so much worse. Viktor shrieked again when Jayce blew yet another raspberry, squirming within an inch of his life. 

“Yohou fucking asshole!” He yelled out for nothing, getting rewarded with Jayce’s fingers joining in the fun by kneading into his lower ribs. He made a series of high pitched sustained yelps at this, caught between the sensations of rough hands on sensitive skin and lips over spots he was discovering were really ticklish. After one particularly potent raspberry, Viktor accidentally sent his knee straight into the back of Jayce’s head, finally halting the onslaught.   

“Ow!” Jayce cradled his head while Viktor caught his breath, quickly covering his stomach. 

“You deserve that!” Viktor admonished, sitting up. His eyes were wide, staring at Jayce.

“Have you… have you never had someone blow a raspberry on you before?”

Viktor shook his head. “That affront to dignity is named after a fruit?” 

Jayce laughed. “Yes.”

“I was not expecting it to… have such an effect.” 

“No? If it’s too much, I won’t do it again-”

“No!” Viktor said before he could stop himself. “I mean, ah, I can handle your bullshit if I must, Jayce.” 

Jayce raised his eyebrows. “Do you want me to do it again?”

Viktor turned red. “Of course not.” 

Despite this, he sank further into the couch and his shirt rode up slightly. He didn’t pull it back down. Jayce grinned. 

“Well regardless, I’m not done with you.” 

It took very little time for Viktor to start cackling. Again.

[schlattslonghairytoes]

omg wait i just sent in the baby it’s cold outside request and im now realizing that YOU PLANTEF THE SEED IN MY BRAIN WITH YOUR HCS WHEN I CATCH YOU!!

but if you don’t mind could you please go more into depth with that idea pls pls pls

the christmas spirit

you were sat on your sofa watching you boyfriends newest podcast episode, you were sorting through your own footage when you hear him talk about making a christmas album

now you knew he could sing, but an album worried you, he was no sinatra. so you decided to call him up and see what he was thinking

you clicked on his contact and began calling "jayjay😏" after 5 rings you really considered giving up, but you finally saw the word connecting

you again considered hanging up when he answered the phone looking like this.

"what." he groaned it a low pitched voice, you giggled before realizing what time it was by him

"jay why were you sleeping at five P.M" you squinted your eyes at him

"im tired." he deadpanned. you sighed before laughing again at his mad face, before you could speak he began to stretch and the angle where he dropped his phone gave you a full view of his beautiful body.

"do you know hot you are?" you ask admiring your boyfriend.

"ill hang up on you, slut." he never did like compliments.

"brat, anyways." you rolled your eyes "i just finished watching chuckle, you looked very cute, but what was this about a christmas album?"

his face lit up "i forgot to tell you! okay so remember my way, well i know you remember it but you get it, i wanted a new project to focus on so im going to make a christmas album!"

schlatt found it very hard to focus on one thing for a prolonged period of time, but he always loved singing so you believed this would be good for him.

"babe and how are you gonna do that?" you questioned, he began to pout as he walked to his bathroom and set down his phone on the counter

"what you dont beweve in me?" he asked in a weird baby voice, while alos having a mouth full of toothpaste

"gross. no of course i do, but i mean your gonna need a producer, a person to re-write the music so you can own it, a vocal coach, how much is this gonna cost you?" you voiced your concerns

"not as much as ill make from it" he laughed

"ugh i hate you" a sigh escaped you but he persisted

"and one more thing.. i want you to be in it."

-if there is one thing you knew about yourself, it was that you were not about to be one of those youtubers who started making shitty music

-so when i tell you it took a long time to get schlatt to convince you to be on the album, it took months

-but when you eventually came around schlatt was ecstatic

-and honestly you were kinda excited too, you would get to see your boyfriend after not seeing him for over a month

-and with this album drop, you both agreed it would basically be your own version of a hard launch

-you wanted to pick songs that would compliment both of your voices, but also make it pretty clear you were more then just friends

-you chose santa baby and baby its cold outside, but schlatt added another, your favorite song, something stupid by frank and nancy sinatra

-you were so excited to see him that the thought of having to sing that well didnt even cross your mind

-but you boarded your flight to LA without second thought, excited to see your favorite boy when you landed

schlatt fucking hates Los Angeles, its hot, the people suck ass, theres always traffic, and right now, the fact that your not with him is driving him insane.

your flight should be landing any minute, and hes sitting in an airport trying to hide and make sure no one recognizes him.

the reason that becoming increasingly difficult is because fucking jack manifold, tom simons, and harry tornado (average harry), waltz off the plane, into the airport, in los angeles.

where everyone is always looking for someone to recognize.

schlatt is hiding twenty feet away from them, but hes already gotten noticed four times, the man cant catch a break.

he just wants to see his girlfriend, not interact with his fuckass fans

that fact that your relationship was private didnt help, he would one hundred percent makeout with you in the middle of the airport, but now that you have planned your hardlaunch he has to contain himself.

harry and jack were taking a picture with a fan, and tom was pissing as usual when schlatt finally saw you

he launched himself up and flailed his arms around like a clown to you, when you saw him you bolted across the floor and threw your bags at harry, who fell over from the force.

like flat on his ass.

you ran and jumped your man “i missed you so much baby” you laughed

“there is a group of teenage girls to your left that have their phones out, i love you so fucking much but save it for the bnb.” he smiled down at you

you giggled and looked over at the six girls, who were activley ignoring harry and tom who were awkwardly standing by them

"holy fucking shit im your biggest fan, please please please can i get a picture with you ive been watching you since i was fucking ten." one girl yelled

"kezia shut the hell up your gonna scare her away." another slapped her

"alanna you dont understand." she wailed

"you look alot like our art teacher" another added

"renn arent you a patron of her podcast?" holy fuck there were so many of them

they all began yelling over eachother and fan girling over you, "do you guys want a picture, or we can make a tiktok or something, up to you guys." you said politely

"can i be in it?" harry asked quietly

"um, sorry, who are you?" tom and jack started hysterically laughing and slapping harry

you guys ended up making a funny tiktok in the middle of LAX and they told you they were all friends because of an art class they have together.

after you all said our goodbyes you all loaded into ted's truck that schlatt was borrowing to haul you all around

you got in the passenger seat as schlatt went over the plan for the week

"okay, we have an airbnb for all of us, but two of you have to share a room, theres three in total. so jack tom and harry two of you will have to be sharing a bed, no homo in my airbnb do ya' hear me?"

they all burst out laughing and agree to schlatts terms

"okay, today once all of you are back at the bnb, im gonna head to the studio to record my solo songs, tommora' im recording with tom and jack, harry you can tag along or whatever, wednesday me and you are together"

he rested his hand on your thigh as he looked at you, his eyes full of stars, looking at you as if you had hung them

"then Thursday, me ludwig, quackity and theo are gonna be down there, the rest of the week is scheduled incase we need to re-record anything or just have fun, everyone undertand?"

he squeezed your thigh as he drove, eyes locked on you

"eyes on the road buddy" you pushed his head foward and sat back in your seat admiring you boyfriend as your friends wrestled in the back.

"harry cut it out, tom stop touching his bum or whatever you britsh fucks call it. youre being gay man, what did i say about that." schlatt jokes, he told you privately that he was bisexual so you knew his jokes were simply just jokes

you watched him as he yelled at the monkeys in the back seat and all you could think is how good of a dad hes going to be, you've spoke about kids before, and your both on the same page which is a huge relief.

you thought about what features your kids would get from him, and god you hoped it was his nose, you loved his nose.

"can ya' stop thinking so hard i swear i can hear your thought." he laughed as he stopped at a red light, looking over to you again

"i just love you so much." you laughed

"ew mom and dad are gonna fuck!" tom gagged

"get a room you perverts" harry lent over the middle console and made smooching noises, schlatt grabbed his face and pushed him back into his seat.

"this is gonna be a long fucking week, im gonna kill myself i swear." schlatt scoffed

"take me with you then" you sighed and slouched into your seat.

day one. (six days remaining)

you woke up with schlatts arms wrapped around your waist, good start.

you both woke up early so you could get breakfast for you and your kids, as you walked up the streets of LA all you could think about is how you want to spend the rest of your life with this man.

"penny for your thoughts?" he laughed, but was one of his calm laughs that was so genuine and unforced

"just love you, love us y'know? i wanna have a big house, a cat, maybe a dog, some little you's running around, i just cant wait to move in with you next month"

"if you say anything like that again ill fuck you right here. dont test me, im gonna have to walk around witha' boner now you whore"

your laugh escaped you and you had to bend over and stop walking as you look up at your now tomoato colored boyfriend.

"c'mon keep it moving." he gunted, a small smiled appearing on his stone cold face.

you ate breakfast together then made your way back to the bnb to deliver food to your "kiddos", soon after they all left for the studio so you decided to start a little project of your own, a suprise one

since schlatt was going to hard launch your realationship through something he loved, you decided you'd do the same

a little video about the love of your life

day two (five days remaining)

you and schlatt repeated the same routine in the morning, you went and got breakfast, went back the bnb, got changed and finally left for the studio

on your walk there schlatt warned you about the homeless person right infront of the studio

"no im so serious, he actually tried to stab me two days ago, and when i finaly got away from him he started yelling how he could take me, and not in a fight. let me tell you, he was not my type."

you both walked into the studio to be met by a italian man named David, but it was pronounced daviday.

he directed you both to a booth were you were instructed to drink tea and blow bubbles into a cup

"babe im starting to get nervous, if i fuck up, or have a voice crack, and you laugh at me. so help me god im breaking up with you" you told him

"lemme tell you what happened yesterday" he sat down and began drinking his tea. "i let harry sing one line on jingle bells and his voice went up and octave and cracked. it was so funny holy shit, i have to get that recording."

you both contiuned talking about the recording process so far, until david told you he was ready to begin, starting with baby its cold outside and you were gonna do a full run through no matter the mistakes.

the music counted in and you started off the song "i really cant stay" you sang. then your boyfriend came in with "but baby, its cold outside" and your eyes widened at how good he sounded

you went through the full thing and after the last line you laughed until you heard davids voice, "both of you, that was shit, do it again."

schlatt didnt even seem fazed by this. holy fuck you were in for a long day.

once david was semi happy with that song you moved onto something stupid, and that one went by much faster.

but the song you were dreading most was next, mostly cause you had to carry the whole song

schlatt started off the ong with the iconic bu-bum, bu-bum' when your voice came in "santa, baby, just slip a sable under the tree for me, been an awful good girl."

as you sang your eyes looked up at him an winked before you focused on singing again.

schlatt continued through the song, but the moment you were done, he scurred off to the bathroom while you did certain lines and verses over and over

when he came back, his face was significantly redder, but you just laughed and moved on, too focused on perfecting your song

you had been recording for over 12 hours now, both of you exhausted.

when you were finally done it was two am.

you called an uber and headed back to the bnb

as you fell asleep on schlatts chest, all you could think about was how you couldnt wait to upload the album, and finally live with the love of your life.

[hxlxnaaa]

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧

★ synopsis: over one summer, a whirlwind romance creates an obvious choice: to stay in the life she's always known or follow sylus into the unknown, chasing love and freedom.

★ character: sylus

★ cw: first-person POV, sort of present day au? pretty fluffy, some implications but nothing obvious, soft sylus, may have spelling errors (i wrote this at 2 am)

★ word count: 1.3k

★ a/n: this is super short and not really meant as an intense read. just some poetic fluff about sylus (lord knows we need more sweet reads of him *sob*)

I remember the first time I saw him.

He was so… different from everyone around. The way he acted, the way he held himself, the devious smirk that always graced his devilishly handsome face. He had this aura that was off, but in this perfectly, sickeningly good way. He was something this dull town never had.

He came in once to my bakery, smiling and talking to me as if he had known me forever.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” That was different, no one spoke to each other like that around here. Anyone in their right mind would be creeped out, yet I enjoyed every second; every word that came out of his mouth spoke with his deep, velvet voice. I loved the difference, I loved the attention he gave me. Constant indulging in the feeling his presence brought on.

Introducing himself as Sylus, I said his name thousands of times in my head.

The look he gave me when he learned my name was engraved in my mind for centuries. His hard eyes softened, repeating every syllable as if it was candy on his tongue. Of my name.

Sylus, Sylus, Sylus.

After that, he would visit at least once a day, if not a few times. He’d lean over my counter, propping himself up on one of his arms. He always rolled his sleeves up, and buttoned his shirt to his lower chest, showing enough of his perfect skin that I always resisted to touch.

“Red is your color.” I had told him this after he wore this delicious, wine red top. It complimented everything on him, like a rose in the snow.

“Everything is your color.” He leaned towards me, holding his face in his hand.

“Why do you say that?” I started serving a customer, and I could feel his eyes on me.

“Well,” He started, “Your personality is very warm, like yellow, orange, and red.”

I glanced at him, “Have a good evening!” I bid the lady I served goodbye.

“And your looks are very cool, blues and purples fit you best.”

Turning away from him, adjusting things on my shelves, I asked, “What about green?”

“What about green?” He repeated.

“You didn’t mention green. Does green fit me?”

He smirked, “I told you every color fits you. So green would too. I’m sorry I didn’t mention every shade in the rainbow.”

I turned back to him, and he had his head resting in his arms, staring at me with his usual smug look. Walking up to him, I ran a hand through his hair, “Y’know, green actually takes up most of the color spectrum. It has a countless number of shades.”

“Really?”

“Mm,” I gave him one of his favorite pastries I made, “it's evolutionary. Humans are omnivores, so our eyes help us differentiate between shades of green to help us find plants to eat and avoid, but it can help us find prey animals that are seeking specific kinds of plants.”

“You’re truly fascinating, sweetie. You and all your shades of green.”

“As are you, Sylus.”

As are you.

Sylus was on a trip here for the summer. When I asked him why?

"To find someone like you."

I thought of him as borrowing my heart, when I knew he wouldn’t return it when he left at the end of the summer. When the leaves turned yellow, red and orange, just as he described my personality, he’d take my heart with him back to his home.

I felt something with him, a spark, a waterfall of passion. Something I had never felt in this city before.

There were the ruins, a place where all the young civilians would go to party into the early mornings. Sylus convinced me to go with him once.

“I want the experience of being here.” He had stated matter of factly, yet I knew the tall man was just finding an excuse to be with me a while longer.

I rolled my eyes, “That’s not much of an experience, being around a bunch of sweaty drunks.”

Oh but it was. To travel back to that night, where we had danced together, our cheeks flushed with red wine, or bodies pressed into one.

He took me back to the bakery, and kissed me against the old brick walls. Him in his red shirt, buttoned down and sleeves up, his hair a mess, but still shining in the illumination of the moon and street lights.

From there, something shifted.

I’d show him all my secret spots, just to fall into a field together, tangled in each other's limbs. He’d kiss me like I was his world, and nothing else existed; and with him, nothing else did exist.

I tried to teach him how to bake, how to knead dough, how to remember measurements without a recipe. Sylus would get flour in his hair, on his cheeks, his nose, his shirt and his pants (all on purpose, courtesy of me).

"We have to match.” He’d say, before taking his flour covered hands and taking my face in them, rubbing his dusty nose on mine, rubbing our cheeks together. I giggled and smacked his chest with a towel, before wiping his and my face off.

There was the night where I wore a new dress; an emerald green sundress that matched the grassy hills of the city in the night. He took one look at me, his red eyes burning with love and desire, and as I took a step forward his hands were all over. Dinner was scrapped, and I spent the night under him tangled in the sheets, one with love.

After, cuddled together, a sweaty beautiful mess, he adjusted his bare chest against mine. Placing his hand on my hip, drawing shapes with his finger, he whispered to me as I was about to fall asleep,

“So many shades of green, and I was lucky enough to find you.”

“I love you, Sylus.” I mumbled through reality and my dreams.

He smiled against my lips, “I love you too.”

As they say, time flies when you’re having fun. Eventually, the end of summer came around.

I would have to say goodbye. Say goodbye to Sylus, say goodbye to everything.

No more grand entrances into my work, messing with the collar of his red billowy shirt. No more watching his bare back as he’d stretch in the morning, smirking back at me as he’d trace his fingers over marks on his neck and chest. Life would go back to routine, everything in this town staying quiet and still as it once was. Before I knew him.

The day before he had to leave, he swung open the door to my bakery, a wild look in his eyes.

“Come with me.” He said, stern. The look on his face told me I wasn’t getting much of a choice. I wasn’t sure I wanted one.

I raised a brow, “What?”

He walked behind the counter, one hand grabbing my waist, the other going through my hair.

“Come back with me. Stay with me. You can open a bakery there, I’ll help. Everything will be the same. You said it yourself, you wanted out of here, come with me.” His usual put together look was coming undone, his lips pulled tightly together as a silent plea.

He could make it happen, the man had more money than I could ever imagine. Going with him could make all my dreams come true; getting out of this monotonous town, living comfortably, being…happy.

I shook my head, almost trying to convince myself not to listen, “Sylus, you’re not thinking about this.” Hypocritical, I’m not sure I was either.

His brows furrowed, “I have. That's all I’ve done. Now, sweetie, say yes.”

I thought about all the shades of green.

…

“Yes.”

(divider by cafekitsune)

[dreamit2seeit]

○•°LOA success°•○

Just a bit of a motivation to put out there I guess?

I know many of you guys struggle with completely accepting the law. I've been there too, and I tend to "fall back" into negativity from time to time still. But every time I do, I always have to realise that it's all up to me, it's all up to what I believe in, and what kind of thoughts and believes I feed into myself.

So let this serve as a healthy reminder that you're in fact capable, that once you decide something to be true, it's true, and that's it. That's IT!!!

Overnight changes? Very demure. It's tea. And it's so simple, fast and real that you don't even realise it happened until it gets brought up in some way.

Yesterday I was organising my vision boards on Pinterest - adding new pictures, deleting some that I don't associate myself with anymore. Then I saw this picture of a public figure who I really admire recently, and I added it to my "Looks" folder. I just realised how pretty and inspiring I find her, and how she kind of looks like my ideal appearence in many ways. I don't know, let's call her Sharon. I searched and scrolled a bit more, finding more pictures of Sharon that I like, and added those pictures to the folder too.

And that's when the magic begins, it's very simple, really.

I was basically just looking at the pictures, telling myself how I look exactly like her, how she's basically me, we're twinning, etc etc...

I also did this very cutesy thing that works for me all the time, visualizing people I know telling me the same things.

And let me repeat: when you decide something to be real and true, it's REAL. AND. TRUE. I'm very lucky when it comes visualization, I can easily change my inner image of me or anything, and from that point on, I see it and think it like that, ignoring the 3D.

Literally that's all I did.

I wasn't even thinking about it today, I just thought to myself once in front of the mirror while throwing on some makeup how I look like Sharon. The 3D? I honestly don't know how it showed or how it shows now, because even if I see it, I only perceive the 4D, the true reality, that's what I feed to my mind.

A few hours later I was hanging out with friends in this cute little café, talking about everything. Again, I was not thinking about this "change" I decided to have the day before. It was there maybe in the back of my mind, showing up in the form of how I carry myself, but there were zero thoughts about it.

Then Chat GPT and it's features were brought up (exciting I know), and the TikTok trends with it, like the special bots that help with looksmaxing, finding your celebrity lookalike, etc etc...We were analysing one of my friend's features, how she looks kind of like this actress and that actress, then she looks at me dead in the eyes and says:

"Do you know who you look like? Like Sharon. I've been thinking about it"

Like... I was kind of speechless for a few seconds. She was one of the people I imagined saying this thing to me the day before. On the outside I was nonchalant about it, but I actually got really excited and happy. Then she confused my nonchalantness with denial, and kept trying to convince me about it. XDD She even involved our other friend who was also agreeing with her, and they went on with this casual discussion about how my features and the way I smile gives complete Sharon... I could ramble more about it, but you get what I'm trying to say here.

It's simple. It's simple and great and wow.

And once you touch into it you realise that it's very real, even if you had doubts before.

Well I hope this helped or motivated a few of you out there, at least that was my point with it.

If I can do it, there is literally no reason why you couldn't. You got this!! It was not complicated, not hard, not something out of my reach. You can get whatever you imagine.

Have a wonderful day, and don't forget to enjoy the journey!

You're capable, you're amazing, you're everything and more! <33

[genderqueerdykes]

hi um. i’d like to ask you for some advice, since it seems like a lot of people come to you when they need it. i’m a trans girl who’s been taking estrogen for 2.5 years but. i’m just so disappointed and unhappy with what hrt has done for me. i feel like i’ve been completely taken over by doomerism from me constantly comparing myself to other transfems both online and irl, and from spending too much time on trans reddit (i’m sending you this ask instead of writing another vent post on r/mtf). through this i’ve convinced myself that i will never be happy with my body, or that i’ll never have real boobs or a feminine body at all. i really really don’t want to give up hope, but it just seems so far out of reach, and i’m stuck down here in this inky abyss. what do you do in dark times when you need to regain hope, but you can’t do it yourself?

first of all, i wanted to say i'm sorry that you're feeling this way. medical transition is a very finicky thing. there is no way to predict what will happen and when, so it's okay to feel just. completely bummed the hell out when you're not seeing the changes you hoped for yet. i definitely see how it can be crushing, especially when you know your body needs to look a different way for you to be happy. it's important to consider people look a lot different irl than they do in photos and videos. camera lenses can only capture so much. pictures and videos can be edited. it's hard to compare yourself to something like that

& i did want to say that you're definitely not alone! there are a lot of girls in your exact situation. with everyone responding to HRT differently, you'll see girls who get changes right away, and girls where it takes a long time. changes with HRT generally happen very slowly, way slower than the eye can perceive, so it's okay if you feel like nothing is happening. your body just may need more time to adjust

have you ever increased your dose? if not, that is totally an option! you may also want to look into progesterone if you find that you're not happy with your breast growth after some time. it's best to look into progesterone first to make sure it's right for you, as it will affect more than just breast growth, but i wanted to throw it out there as an option! if you're not on an androgen blocker, this could also potentially help you

for both estrogen and testosterone HRT, it can take a minimum of 5 years for people to begin seeing the effects they were desiring. 5 years, minimum! that's a very long time, comparatively, you are very early on in your journey. the effects you want to see may just come along further on down the road. i know it's easy to fall into the trap of comparing yourself to others. it's good to remind yourself that they are not you, they do not share your genetics. they look like them. you look like you. it's okay that you don't look like those people- they're not you.

it doesn't make you any less of a woman just because you haven't seen these changes yet. there are plenty of women who look just like you, cis, intersex, trans, genderqueer, and otherwise. there are many cis and intersex women who don't "pass", and it doesn't make them any less of a woman: the same applies to you, and every trans girl. dysphoria can be a real pain in the ass and make things harder than it needs to be. it's okay to not be content with where you're at now. it's okay to be frustrated that you're not seeing the changes you want to right now. many, many trans people feel just the same way you do.

you may feel awkward and uncomfortable right now because you're literally in a transitional phase. think about when teenagers go through puberty, about how awkward they look and feel. cracking voices, bodies that are "in the middle" and not fully developed. that's what you're going through at the moment, and its okay. it just takes time for things to fully settle in.

what i would suggest is trying to find ways to do some self care that affirm your gender that don't involve your appearance. validating yourself in other ways is extremely important. building yourself up takes time. if you feel insecure about how you look, it's okay. you can start building your confidence in your identity and gender in other areas of yourself, first, then move on to your appearance. try to spend time with people who respect you for who you are, no matter how you look. try to surround yourself with people and things that affirm you

i hope you start seeing those changes you want to see soon. if you need more advice, feel free to ask! if any other trans girls on E have any advice for the asker, or relate to the experience, please feel free to chip in with some feedback on this ask, or by sending an ask! due to being intersex, i was taking estrogen and progesterone despite not wanting to, so i was not cataloguing what was changing or anything like that, so i can't speak from personal experience there despite having been on E HRT in the past.

take care of yourself for now. try to go easy on yourself, you're still in your coocoon. the day where you emerge as a butterfly is on its way, it just takes a little time. please feel free to come back any time. i hope we can get some good insight for you

[winchestergirl2]

Needless to say, you had never made it to Cassie’s place last night. Beau had been very convincing (and successful) in making you stay.

Beau wouldn't have to try very hard to convince me to stay, lol 😉.

Poor girl can't catch a break, bumping into Carla while suffering with a hangover. At least this interaction was more friendly than the last one.

I don’t wear sunglasses indoors. Only douchebags do that,” you quipped

Ah, a supernatural reference she's channelling her inner Dean 😂

I love all the flashbacks filling in their past. I legitimately laughed at Randy's reaction to meeting her for the first time. The poor guy really couldn't string a sentence together 😂. Beau was a good wingman there, though.

Also, really, like how the football being passed back and forth was their way of thinking through things... and that Beau still does it.

“That’s the second time in three days,” he reminded you scoldingly. “Three days, Y/N! Twice!”

Oh no, not again 😂😂 At least it wasn't as bad as when Poppernak walked in on them.

Polaris – Chapter 4

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, so many flashbacks, more awkwardness, more funerals, more drinking, more murder, some fluff and a sprinkle of smut too

Word Count: 6.3k

A/N: Life got a little busy, so I've been a bit absent recently, but I'm so happy and grateful you guys are enjoying this series so far! All your sweet comments really put a smile on my face during all the chaotic and exhausting times 🥹🤍

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 4: Rewind

A tequila hangover required copious amounts of coffee to battle the raging headache you felt. Your eyes stung when they met the blinding sun this morning, not even your darkest pair of shades bringing much relief.

Your whole body ached, a welcoming soreness between your weak and wobbly legs as you stalked inside the little bakery and coffee shop on Main Street USA. Beau had already scolded you for calling it that, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Helena’s sheriff then had sent you here for your morning coffee run, hoping this way you’d avoid the questioning and curious stares of Jenny and Cassie. Needless to say, you had never made it to Cassie’s place last night. Beau had been very convincing (and successful) in making you stay.

Hands, lips, teeth, and tongue – you clenched at the thought alone, cursing yourself for soaking through your fresh underwear. How good were your chances for a quickie during lunch break in his office if you promised to thoroughly lock his goddamn door this time?

“Y/N, hey.” Carla’s voice made you flinch and pulled you from your naughty reverie – about her ex-husband no less.

Had you mentioned how much you hated small towns?

“Hey, Carla,” you greeted her with a flushed smile, hoping you hid your blushed cheeks and fluster well. You definitely felt caught with your hand in the cookie jar, although it was thankfully impossible for her to read your mind.

Was there no safe place to quietly get coffee in this goddamn village?

“Listen, Y/N, again, I’m so sorry about yesterday,” she apologized and nervously fumbled with her coffee cup in her hands, her gaze focusing on her heels.

Carla was usually confidence personified. She was strong-willed, assertive, and dauntless – all the traits that made her a fierce and excellent lawyer and a force to be reckoned with in court. It was rare for her to lower her head, so you knew she must really be trying to make amends.

“No, don’t be. Like I said, we’re good,” you assured her and swallowed the lump of embarrassment down your throat. “I get it. I really do. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, too. I never meant for any of this to happen, you know?”

You never had gotten a chance to say it before. You had always felt bad for the way the two of you had left things. Carla was by far not your closest friend, but the tight friendship between both your husbands and the nature of your jobs had forced you to spend time together occasionally. You’d meet at barbecues on the weekends, drinks after work, and life events like Emily’s middle school graduation. You never meant to betray her. You never meant to hurt her. And you never meant for your friendship to implode like it did.

“I know. It’s okay, really,” Carla said. “I already told Beau this yesterday, but I want him to be happy. That goes for you, too. I found my happiness after the divorce. At least for a while…”

Upon her sad look, you gave her a sympathetic smile. You knew she wasn’t married to Avery for long, but that didn’t matter. You understood better than anyone what it was like to lose someone you loved.

“Hey, if you ever need someone to talk, call me, okay? I feel like I owe you a whole pitcher of margaritas,” you offered with a chuckle.

She returned your kindness with a soft smile. “Thank you. I’ll take you up on that.”

“Well, if this ain’t interestingly awkward.”

Both you and Carla turned to Beau in surprise as he strolled through the doors of the coffee shop. Leave it to him to voice the uncomfortableness of the situation out loud.

“Hey, uhm… you,” you said with wide eyes and fist-bumped his arm. Obviously, you weren’t equipped to handle awkwardness very smoothly, either.

Beau sent you a tight-lipped smile that barely hid his amusement. “Do I need to pull out the sheriff’s badge here, or are you two good?”

“We’re good,” you assured him.

“Oh, relax, Beau,” Carla told him with an amused laugh and patted his shoulder in passing on her way out of the shop. “Don’t kid yourself. You could not handle either one of us, anyway.”

“Probably true,” Beau quipped in agreement as Carla waved you goodbye.

Beau waited till the door safely closed behind his ex before tilting his head at you, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “You really good?”

“No!” you exclaimed frustratedly.

Laughing, he slung his arms around you and pulled you against his chest. Embarrassed, you buried your face in his shirt, clasping it with your palms for good measure.

“Tomorrow I’m getting coffee in the next town over. I really hate small towns,” you grumbled.

“So, I’m guessin’ you’re not a big fan of staying after the case is over, huh?” he asked carefully and rubbed his beard.

Truthfully, you hadn’t thought about it until now. But Beau clearly had as he nervously chewed his lower lip and waited for your answer.

You glanced up at him through your eyelashes. “Well, uhm… Montana doesn’t have a field office. The next one’s in Utah, and I hate Utah.”

“Yeah, everyone does. It’s Utah,” Beau agreed jokingly. “Could always work here. Sheriff’s Department could use someone like you.”

You snorted. “Yeah, not gonna happen. You’re not gonna be the boss of me. That’ll have to stay a fantasy of yours.”

“Too bad. It was a good one,” he retorted with a cheeky smile and wiggled his eyebrows. Then, he became more serious. He scratched the nape of his neck in an anxious gesture. “But look, uhm, I was about to retire anyway, so I’m just putting that on the table, okay?”

“Alright, good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.”

You smiled softly up at him, thinking it was cute he wanted to follow you wherever you went. He’d never handled your relationship so open and secure before. In the past, everything always dangled in the air – his feelings, your future. Unlike the North Star, nothing was fixed.

You had always been a flag he’d never preferred to wave.

You let out a small sigh and pecked his lips. “But this case is far from over, so we’ve got time to figure it out, okay?”

He nodded, a bit more relieved at your answer. “Okay.”

August 2020

Beau rubbed his face clean as best as he could. His eyes were red and stung, his vision blurry as he stepped out of the church’s back room on shaky bow legs. He had to talk to you and make things right. He felt like he not only failed you but also his best friend. Again.

The funeral guests filtered out of the church one by one as he trudged down the red-carpeted aisle. Beau could feel their stares and judgments on him. He knew he looked like the biggest mess, his suit and tie in disarray, tousled hair, and bloodshot eyes. How many of them blamed him for his partner’s death?

“Dad?” Emily’s voice made his heart ache as his thirteen-year-old daughter looked at him with a mix of worry and disenchantment. He barely resembled the father she’d known all her life and held high on a pedestal.

“Emily, honey, go wait in the car,” Carla told her swiftly, taking immediate note of her husband’s disheveled status.

“But Mom–”

“Now, Emily,” Carla ordered more firmly and watched her daughter quietly leave the church.

“Have you seen Y/N?” Beau asked, trying his best to swallow any shame he felt down. He hated that his family had to see him like this. The disappointment and hurt were visible as clear as day in both their faces.

“You gotta be kidding me…” Carla scoffed in anger and disbelief, a part of her hardly grasping the current state of her husband. “Where the hell were you, Beau? Jesus, you reek! Have you been drinking?”

“I already went through this today, okay? I don’t need a replay,” he replied flatly, every part of him hating how she looked at him. “Have you seen Y/N or not?”

“Beau, what’s going on with you? Just talk to me, please,” Carla pleaded with him as the anger subsided, concern etched into her brow. “What happened during that shootout?”

Beau ran a hand over his face, his head spinning and his eyes burning. “I can’t do this right now. Just take Em home, okay?” he told her and pushed past her.

“Where are you going? Beau!” Carla called after him, but he stubbornly headed out the door to the parking lot.

Fortunately, you still hadn’t left, but what he was seeing didn’t put him more at ease. He watched as you put a clip into your gun, a duffel bag hurriedly packed with clothes lying in the trunk of your SUV.

You threw your black pumps carelessly into the backseat before slipping into a pair of worn jeans under your black dress, which you discarded next, leaving you momentarily in only a black satin bra. He averted his gaze and tried not to stare, even though you had your back turned to him, and he couldn’t see much anyway. Still, his heartbeat quickened as he approached you, while you pulled a white t-shirt over your head and tied your wavy hair into a ponytail.

“What are you doing?” Beau asked, the feeling in the pit of his stomach and the determination in your eyes already giving him a good guess.

“What does it look like? I’m going after them,” you said sternly and tied the laces on your boots. “DEA is going down to Mexico in a couple of weeks. Cody’s leading a task force. I fought my way in. They wanna scope out some locations tomorrow.”

“Are you kidding me? Y/N, just look at you! You’re not going after them alone in this state,” Beau snapped, throwing his arms up in utter incredulity. His gut ordered him to protect you no matter the cost. He owed as much to his dead partner to look out for you. It was a constant debt in his mind.

“My state?” You cocked an eyebrow and snorted caustically, shaking your head at him. “Have you fucking looked at yourself recently? Compared to you, I’m fine. And I also won’t be alone.”

“You’re not fine,” Beau gritted with anger in his eyes and worry in his heart. “We’re all fucking far from fine. You’re gonna get yourself killed like this!”

“I don’t have time for this right now,” you brushed him off with a roll of your eyes and slammed the trunk shut, hurrying to the driver’s side. But a rough grab of your arm stopped you in your tracks and made you spin and glare at Beau.

“Dammit, Y/N!”

Your features softened when you saw the desperation in his look. “I need to do this, Beau,” you insisted calmly and looked deeply into his watery eyes. Tears filled your gaze and threatened to choke you. “I want them to pay for what they’ve done to him. They can’t get away with it.”

His grip on your arm loosened before he let you go completely. He ran a palm over his face and carded it through his messy hair.

“Fine,” he barked resolutely, the despair replaced by determination. “But I’m coming with you. You’re not doing this alone.”

“What, so you can get me killed, too?”

You squeezed your eyes shut as soon as the words rushed out and pinched the bridge of your nose. Immediate regret flooded your veins.

When you finally dared to glance at him, he looked hurt and averted his gaze to the burning asphalt below. He smacked his lips, head bobbing. It felt like you had just thrown an ax to his heart, whipped him, bludgeoned him with a baseball bat, and shot him in the knee – all at once.

“Beau, I’m so sorry.” You could see in his eyes that your apology already came too late. He was spiraling, blaming himself for Randy’s death. “I know it wasn’t your fault. I didn’t mean it like that. I just-… It’s been a long day.”

“Nope, no, you’re right. Don’t apologize,” he rebuffed your efforts to patch the wound you’d opened with a dark chuckle. You felt like utter shit. “I let him down. If it weren’t for me, he’d still be alive, so…”

“Beau, don’t do this. He wouldn’t want you to. And neither do I for that matter…” You reached out and clasped his hand reassuringly. But it didn’t feel like it was enough, so you wrapped your arms around him, too, and pulled him into a hug.

Beau was frozen for a moment when he felt your body pressed flush against his before he wrapped his arms around you as well and held you tightly. Carefully, he rested his chin on top of your head, the scent of your shampoo winding its way to his nose. And for a mere second, he let go and allowed himself to be comforted, soothing warmth spreading throughout his body.

“I gotta go,” you said quietly as you released him. But Beau held onto your hand with his for a heartbeat before realizing the strangeness of his touch and withdrew his arm quickly with a clear of his throat, fingers ripping apart at the seams.

“Lemme come with you. Lemme help,” he stated.

“Beau, no offense, but you’re a mess,” you said with gentle honesty. “Can you even walk a straight line? Stand on one leg and touch the tip of your nose? Recite the alphabet backwards?”

He actually snorted at that, his lips forming a small smile. “Fair enough,” he conceded. “I’ll get better. Promise, okay? Just please… I need this, too.”

As you stared at him, you heaved a deep sigh. “Fine, get in,” you relented and gestured with your chin to the passenger’s side of your car. “But let’s hit a Denny’s first. Get some goddamn coffee and toast into you. Maybe a shower would help, too.”

Beau chuckled a little at that, nodding. “Yes, ma’am.”

February 2012

Randy groaned loudly as he passed Beau the football, letting his head fall back between his shoulder blades. “Ugh, I can’t believe the Captain agreed to give the case to the stupid FBI. It was our case, man. We almost had the guy!”

“Yeah, I know. But hey, we could still follow our own leads. Solve it before the feds do. What’s Harper gonna do?” Beau suggested with a cocky smirk.

“I don’t know. Suspend us? Fire us? Just to name a few,” Randy quipped sarcastically and threw his partner a raised look.

Beau scoffed playfully and rolled his eyes. “Always by the book. You’re no fun,” he said with a teasing smile.

“Well, I can still bash the feds who are stealing this case from us. It’s probably some dumb asshole in a suit and sunglasses,” Randy joked and laughed, not noticing Beau’s facial expression change as he lowered his gaze to the floor, lips pursing.

You cleared your throat behind the chuckling detective, causing him to turn around and blink up at you.

“Well, I’m an asshole. I can admit as much. Definitely not dumb, though. I hate suits, and I don’t wear sunglasses indoors. Only douchebags do that,” you quipped and sent him a complacent smile upon his wide-eyed stare. Then, you arched a brow at the guy. “And stealing, really? You guys haven’t made progress on the case for weeks. Probably because you keep playing football instead of working.”

“Whoa, hey!” Beau threw in, furrowing his brow. “It’s a brainstorming technique, okay?”

“Yeah, for dumbasses,” you retorted. “Did you already get a concussion? Would explain a few things, mainly how you screwed up this case so much. It’s not rocket science, boys.”

“Okay, listen, missy. We did not screw up this case. We have leads, alright?” Beau argued fervently and took a step closer to you, his shoulders tensing as he was only inches away from your face.

You had the urge to tiptoe just to keep up with him for a proper face-off. He was tall, gigantic really, and now you were left to glare more or less into his chest.

“Who? The buyer for the jeweler? It wasn’t him. I already checked him out,” you said dismissively and could tell by Beau’s frown that it indeed had been his only lead. You then glanced at his partner. “Is he gonna say something or just stare? It’s not helping to refute my concussion theory, you know?”

Beau knitted his brow and shot his partner a look. As soon as he realized what was going on, he rolled his eyes and sighed. His best friend was running hot for Agent Hostile. Granted, you did look very sexy with all that fire burning in your eyes.

“Ey, Randy!” Beau snapped his fingers in front of his partner and hauled him from his surely naughty daydream.

“Uhm… I’m Randy,” he told you, dumbfounded.

Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline, your mouth itched to smile in amusement. “Wow, okay… Does that come with a last name?”

Randy still gave you that same vacant and infatuated stare in his hazel eyes. “You can call me whatever you want.” He sent you an insecure smile with a halfway shrug.

“Oh, can I call you a moron?” you countered snappily.

Amused, Beau actually snorted into his shoulder as he dipped his head, but then decided to step in for his best friend. “Okay, c’mon, leave him be.”

“Look, just gimme the file, and I’ll be outta your hair,” you submitted your peace offering, which Beau accepted, handing you the folder.

“Uh… drinks?” Randy looked up at you hopefully, like a shelter puppy waiting to be adopted. You honestly found his fluster quite endearing.

“Is he asking me out?” you checked with Beau, a smile playing on your lips.

“I think so.” Beau chuckled and nodded. “Look, uh–”

“Y/N,” you provided, noticing him fumble for a name.

“Y/N,” he repeated with a warm smile that reached his green eyes. “Maybe we got off on the wrong foot here. We could help you with the case. We know it better than anyone. Could save you some work.”

You smirked slightly, recognizing what he was doing. First of all, he wanted in on the case, clearly having a hard time letting go. You knew the type all too well. Sometimes people in law enforcement behaved like bratty toddlers when it came to cases – they all hated sharing their toys, but you knew how to play nice. And secondly, Beau wanted to ensure you got to spend more time with his partner – the perfect wingman. He deserved a medal for his efforts.

You lifted a knowing eyebrow at him. “Didn’t your captain already say no?”

“But what d’you say, darlin’?” He shot you a mischievous grin.

“You’re a troublemaker,” you noted and received an acknowledging shrug in return. “Are you gonna behave, Ferris Bueller?”

“Yes, ma’am. Hand on my red-blooded and beating heart,” Beau promised charmingly and did as advertised, placing his palm on his chest like he was swearing a Boy Scout oath.

Rolling your eyes, you groaned and caved. “Fine. I’ll talk to your captain. You guys can come along, I guess.”

Beau handed you their card with their numbers on it before you disappeared out of the station again. Comfortingly, he patted his partner’s back as soon as you had left, Randy still staring after your goddamn shadow.

“I wanna marry her,” Randy sighed dreamily.

“Whoa… Moving way too fast here, buddy,” Beau tried to rein him in. “Maybe try speaking a straight sentence to her first.”

“I can’t. I’m in love with her. She’s the one.”

“She called you a moron,” Beau countered and crossed his arms over his chest, although he kind of understood where Randy was coming from. If he hadn’t been married, he would’ve given you his best shot as well.

“That only made me love her more,” Randy insisted.

Sighing theatrically, Beau rolled his eyes back. “Dear Lord, help me…”

Randy then went on a long tangent about everything he loved about you. The words he’d been missing when you were around suddenly spilled out of him. And while Beau acted annoyed, he smiled internally for his friend’s happiness. He’d never seen him before like this.

June 2013

“Oh God, I think I’m gonna puke,” Randy said and swallowed what felt like bile in his throat. With his hands on his hips, he took a deep breath, but it did nothing to calm his nerves. “Can you give me that trash can?”

Beau handed him the bin next to him with an amused chuckle. “Alright, but just remember – no matter what you do, don’t puke on the suit.”

Randy scowled at him, panic taking over as he nervously paced the fancy dressing room. “Not in the mood for jokes right now, man,” he huffed.

Beau laughed heartily and raised his hands in surrender. He got up from his seat on the small and uncomfortable sofa and patted his friend on the back, squeezing his shoulders encouragingly. “Okay, calm down. Everything will work out fine. Why are you so nervous anyway? Is this you having cold feet? Should I do somethin’? Start a getaway car?”

Taken aback by the suggestion, Randy’s brow furrowed, close to offended. “What? No! I love Y/N. I can’t wait to marry her,” he stated with absolute certainty. “I just-… I don’t wanna stand up there and, you know, look like a moron. I want today to be perfect for her.”

Beau snorted a laugh. “Alright, you won’t, okay? That’s what I’m here for. If you do somethin’ stupid up there, I’m gonna distract everyone with somethin’ stupider. That’s basically my duty as best man.”

“Yeah, Y/N’s gonna love that,” Randy quipped sarcastically and chuckled. But the lighthearted distraction didn’t last long before his nerves burned through him again. “You think I can make her happy?”

Beau smiled at him warmly. “The way she looks at you, you already are. Trust me.”

“Okay, good.” Randy nodded in relief. “‘Cause sometimes I really wonder how I got so lucky. I swear I didn’t speak in straight sentences for, like, the first three dates.”

“Oh, I remember.” Beau snorted.

“Man, were you this nervous, too, when you married Carla? I swear this is killing me,” Randy asked with his wildly beating heart in his throat. “I think I’m having a heart attack… Or a stroke. My head keeps spinning. Is that normal? Doesn’t feel normal…”

Beau hesitated for a moment before he nodded with a light swallow. “Yeah, sure. Everyone’s nervous,” he assured his partner, although the truth was a little different.

Carla was already pregnant when they tied the knot, so they did the right thing to appease their parents. But sometimes, Beau wished they would’ve waited. He could tell Carla did, too. They were both young. She had still been in law school, chasing her degree, and Beau had barely finished police academy and had still been working patrol.

Sure, he was nervous on his wedding day, but it wasn’t a puking-your-guts-out-and-jittering-to-your-bones kind of nervous. But Beau loved his family more than words could say and wouldn’t trade his daughter for anything.

“Hey, uh, can you ask Y/N about the marriage certificate? I’m supposed to give it to the officiant or something,” Randy said with a confused brow, scratching his sweaty neck.

“Yeah, of course. Be right back,” Beau replied with a saluting gesture and strutted to the door, encouragingly patting Randy’s shoulder once more on the way out. “Try not to soil yourself,” he teased, chuckling.

Beau then strolled down the lavish hallway of the five-star hotel and stopped in front of your dressing room door. He knocked twice and heard a “Come in!” bounce through. But when he opened the door and peeked his head carefully inside, he wasn’t prepared for the sight that greeted him.

“Wow… uh…” Beau’s forest-green eyes went wide as he blinked at you. He was rendered completely speechless. How did he turn into Randy so quickly?

As you sat in front of your vanity, you glanced at him over your naked shoulder before you stood up and greeted him with a bright smile.

Your white dress hugged your curves perfectly, strapless but with a bit of cleavage, giving a perfect view of your clavicle and shoulder blades. It wasn’t one of those puffy princess dresses. It was smooth, uncomplicated, and delicate just like you.

You looked absolutely stunning.

“Wow,” Beau repeated and felt like a moron. He cleared his throat to haul himself out of his shameless staring and tried to recover his composure. “You look beautiful, Y/N.”

“Thanks.” You beamed with blushed cheeks. “You think Randy’s gonna like it?”

Beau smiled kindly, unable to take his eyes off of you. “Yeah, he’s gonna love it. It’s gonna make him even more nervous,” he replied, chuckling.

But your brow creased in concern, your lips parting. “He’s nervous?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry,” Beau swiftly brushed your concerns away, “He’s nervous in a good way. No cold feet or anythin’ like it. He might just pass out and puke at the altar when you walk out. That’s all. Maybe some stuttering, too.”

You laughed softly, nodding. “That’s all, huh?” you teased. “Kinda like when we first met then,” you remembered fondly. “Or our first three dates, too, I guess.”

Musingly, Beau pursed his lips, his head bobbing in thought. “Hey, uh, can I just ask… Why did you keep going out with him? I mean, like you said he didn’t really speak for the first three dates. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good-looking guy, but, you know, you’re, well… you.”

You snorted lightly and cast your gaze down as your cheeks flushed even deeper red. “Thank you, I guess? But, uhm, to answer your question – I kinda liked that he was so flustered. It was endearingly sweet,” you replied and smiled to yourself at the memory. “‘Sides, every time he did say something, it was oddly complimenting. He’s also the only guy who ever bought me flowers after our first night together. It came with an extensive ‘thank you’ card.”

“Oh, Randy, you sweet little idiot…” Beau sighed affectionately.

“He never told you that?” you asked curiously.

“Ha, no. For obvious reasons.” Beau laughed. “But hey, it’s great material for my best man speech later.”

“Oh God,” you groaned playfully and laughed. “Just so you know, though, I’m gonna cut you off after fifteen minutes.”

Beau threw his head back, laughing loudly. “Alright, I hear ya. Your loss, though.”

You watched him for a moment when your laughs quieted down. He scratched his bearded chin, gazing down at his feet and making no efforts to move.

“Beau?”

“Hm?” His eyes found your arched eyebrow.

“Did you come here for a reason or just to chitchat?” you asked with curious amusement. He seemed obviously lost.

“Oh, uh, right! I’m supposed to ask you about the marriage certificate and the officiant thingy,” he remembered.

You smiled. “Tell Randy it’s already taken care of. He doesn’t have to worry about anything, okay?”

“Alright, I’ll-, uhm, I’ll do that,” Beau said and awkwardly cleared his throat, walking to the door.

“Oh, and Beau?” He spun on his heel when you called his name. “Make sure Randy doesn’t puke on his suit.”

An amused smile shaped on his lips at that, and he nodded. “Oh, I’m on it. Trust me.”

When Beau left your room and wandered down the hallway again, a weird sting plagued his heart. Deciding it was a feeling he didn’t particularly care for, he pushed it deep down, not even admitting his true thoughts to himself under duress and torture.

He’d feel like an ass if he ever did.

Beau looked up from his files on his desk when a knock ripped him from his reverie. It was already getting dark outside, the sun setting behind the mountains. He smiled up at you from his chair when you peeked your head inside.

“Hey, Jenny and I are back from the crime scene,” you informed him as you stepped inside his office, closing the door behind you.

“And?”

“It’s definitely the woman from the video,” you confirmed sadly.

“We got a name yet?” Beau asked, his face stern, concern and compassion carved into every crease.

“Yeah, Addison Hughes. Husband reported her missing four days ago in Jefferson County. I already talked to the sheriff there. They’re handing us over the case,” you told him and noticed his suspiciously cocked brow.

“Uh-oh, I know what that means,” he quipped teasingly. “Were you nice?”

You gasped in mock-disbelief at his accusation. “What d’you mean? I’m always nice.”

Beau snorted in amusement. “Uh-huh, that means no…”

“Wha-… Anyways,” you continued with a clear of your throat and a playful little glare at him, “Jenny and I talked to Mr. Hughes afterwards. He didn’t wanna admit that he cheated at first, but Jenny and I kinda went in on him till he fessed up.”

“Poor fella…” Beau muttered under his breath.

“Hm? What?”

“Nothin’. I said nothing.” He shook his head and gave you an innocent smile, but it didn’t stop your eyes from narrowing at him.

“Careful,” you warned and ambled over to his side of the desk. He pushed his chair back, making room for you between his thighs. “You don’t wanna defend a cheater. He got his wife killed. I have little sympathy for that.”

“Well, he’s definitely an ass for cheating, but even you gotta admit he didn’t really kill her. That’s still on the psycho running around out there,” Beau argued, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you closer to him. You involuntarily clenched when his face was in front of your crotch.

“Fine,” you conceded with a roll of your eyes, sliding your hands up his arms till they locked around his neck.

“‘Sides, I kinda get how quickly a mistake can happen, you know?” he said thoughtfully.

You arched your brow. “Do you mean me with that?”

Beau’s eyes widened, immediately shaking his head. “What, no! I mean, yeah, a little,” he stammered. Your frown deepened. “Not like that, obviously. Just remembered some stuff today… But we never cheated. I know that.”

“Do you?” you questioned rhetorically.

“I do,” he assured you and took your hands in his, kissing your knuckles in an attempt to soothe you. “Just sometimes feels like I betrayed him, you know?”

“I know. I get that. But you did nothing wrong, okay? You did not seduce me and steal me away from him, nor did you take advantage of me when I was a vulnerable and grieving widow. I’m a grown-ass woman. I make my own choices. And I chose you like you chose me. After Randy’s death and all those months in Mexico, I fell in love with you, too.”

A coy smile clawed at his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yes, you idiot,” you confirmed, your smiles matching.

He then pulled you onto his lap and claimed your lips in deep passion. You straddled his thighs and rocked against him, feeling the blooming erection in his jeans rub against your clothed cunt.

You unbuckled his belt and opened the zipper, Beau pushing down his jeans over his ass a little. Supporting one palm on his shoulder, your other hand climbed inside his boxers and grasped his dick. You thumbed his head and dribbled a few drops of spit down on his cock before moving your hand down his shaft, spreading it like lube on his velvety skin.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head falling back against the backrest. With hooded eyes drunk with lust, one hand snaked under your shirt and pulled down the cup of your bra, palming and massaging your breast and rolling the nipple between his fingers. Your moan of pleasure was his reward as you pumped him with a tightening grip.

Both of you jerked up, however, as the door to his office suddenly flung wide open. Beau and you froze in your place, your fingers still wrapped around his cock, but luckily, neither of you was fully naked and your back hid most of the explicits. To your visitor, it just looked like an intense and very heated make-out session.

As you peeled your gaze over your shoulder, you recognized a woman in her mid-thirties who covered her eyes and quickly retreated through the door.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry. I’ll wait outside,” she excused and shut the door behind her again.

Beau gaped at you, green eyes wide in disbelief. “Y/N, did you not lock the door?”

You clasped your mouth with both hands, shaking your head with pupils as blown wide as his. “No, I thought everyone had already left when I came in here.”

“That’s the second time in three days,” he reminded you scoldingly. “Three days, Y/N! Twice!”

“I know! I’m sorry,” you whispered apologetically, still in shock, but a laugh of amusement escaped your throat. “Who was that lady?”

“I don’t know.” Beau’s brow furrowed in the same questioning manner as yours.

The two of you then sorted yourselves quickly, pulling pants back on and smoothing out shirts. You then stepped outside the office, where your female visitor was still waiting in the hallway.

“Uh, so sorry for that little, uhm…” Beau stopped mid-sentence, clueless on how to proceed and describe the scene while still sounding professional. “Anyways, how can I help you, darlin’?”

You threw him a small sideways glare at that and crossed your arms over your chest, Beau giving you one of his charming “can’t be helped” shrugs. Did he have to put so much flirt into it?

“Oh, uh, I apologize. I should’ve knocked,” the woman replied with a keen giggle, her cheeks blushing in fluster. She cleared her throat and regained her composure, introducing herself. “My name is Diane Newton. I’m the new DA for the Lewis and Clark Sheriff’s Department. I got assigned the serial killer case and wanted to look through your files on it. See what you’ve got so far.”

“Oh, uhm, sure,” Beau spluttered and swallowed the lump in his throat, his mind jumping back into work mode. Of course, it had to be the new prosecutor to find him with his pants down in his office. What a great first impression.

“Hi, uh, Sheriff Beau Arlen. Nice to meet you,” he said and reached out his hand for a shake. He then glanced at you. “This is actually Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N. She’s leading that case,” he introduced you before he nervously chuckled. “She’s, uh, my girlfriend. That’s why we, uhm… Wouldn’t want you to think that we-… I do this all the time.”

“No worries and no judgment here,” she said and waved off his concerns. “What you do after hours is completely your business.”

“Well, uhm, how about I show you the files now?” you offered and ushered her to your desk in the main room of the station.

“Oh, that’d be great!”

You threw Beau a wide-eyed look over your shoulder as you walked down the hall, mouthing “Why would you say that?” with a chiding shake of your head.

Beau only twitched his shoulders in a comical apology like a cartoon character and swiftly disappeared back into his office.

Diane stayed for two more hours before finally leaving. You went over every victim in Montana with her, not sparing any excruciating details, and told her a little about the other victims in the other states as well. By the end, you were exhausted and almost fell asleep at your desk, your head resting on the pile of files with closed eyes.

Just a few minutes…

“C’mon, let’s go home. You’re tapped out,” you heard Beau’s deep voice and soon felt his grasp around your arm, hoisting you gently to your feet.

You slung your arms around his neck and tiredly rested your head on his warm, broad chest, listening to his heartbeat underneath. He’d always been the best pillow. “Mmm, I don’t have a home here,” you murmured sleepily.

“Well, you know what they say, home is where the heart is, and I’m going back to my trailer, so…” He shrugged and grinned down at you.

“You’re such a dork,” you quipped. As you looked up at him, you bit your bottom lip. “You introduced me as your girlfriend earlier.”

He licked his smirking lips. “Well, you are my girlfriend.” His brow then creased momentarily. His insecurity was somewhat cute, you thought. “Right?”

You beamed and nodded, giggling. “Yes,” you confirmed and tiptoed up to plant a sweet kiss on his lips to seal it.

“How about before we go home, we finish what we started in my office,” he suggested cheekily and added, “I’ll even teach you how to lock a damn door.”

You snorted a small laugh and gave him another gentle kiss, this one lasting a bit longer and swinging with promise. “Alright. Teach me, Sheriff,” you agreed and smoothed your palms up his chest, smirking up at him.

“Oh, this just took a turn. Now, I know what I’m gonna do with you.” He chuckled wickedly and scooped you up in his arms, bolting down the hallway to his office as you squealed and giggled.

Chapter 5: Illicit Affairs – MAY 29

Will they ever learn? Probably not... 😆 We've had some juicy flashbacks these week... Past scenes that include Randy always make me sad 😭

More murder stuff and flashbacks next week! See ya 🫶

(Also I've been a bit slow with comments these days. It's been crazy busy life things, but I hope I can catch up with everything this weekend 🤍)

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Marry-Me-Salmon | Joel Miller x F!Reader

The amount of game Joel fics aren’t enough‼️ Taking matters into my own hands. Though I think they somewhat behave the same! I saw these recipes of “marry me salmon” going around and got inspired lol. Just tooth rotting fluff and a bit predictable but I just wanna see this man happy :(🩷

(Set in Jackson and Joel lives forever in MY blog ☝🏼)

Joel had bought a ring.

It was like his body moved on its own. When he laid his eyes on the thing, he thought there could possibly be no ring that could be more you.

That was a week ago. Why he bought it, he still doesn’t know. Well.. He knows exactly why. Just didn’t want to do it. Scared to do it. And this is coming from a man who isn’t scared of much.

You were arguably the best thing to ever walk into his life. Why you chose his hard-ass, he’ll never understand. After three years of you shutting him up and convincing him that you love him (you’d make him repeat it too), by default he’d say that yes, you do love him. But deep down, he still has a hard time believing it. He just knows that he’s very scared of losing you. And that he’s a goddamn lucky bastard.

So he decided, he doesn’t want to scare you off until he’s perfectly sure you wanted to be with him (yes, three whole years and he still isn’t sure). The ugly insecure monster within him thinks the day will never arrive. But in the comfortable silence that you two occasionally shared tangled with each other, he somehow had a feeling. Though fleeting, he did feel from the way you squeezed his hand, that you wanted this forever thing just as much as he did. So maybe — just maybe — your words did pierce through him. And he keeps the ring in his back pocket all the time just in case.

A week ago, you had overheard some ladies in the Square telling a story about how her husband of thirty-six years decided to propose to her because she cooked him the marry-me-salmon. You scoffed at the idea. There was no way it was that simple. Right?

Fast forward to present day, a salmon fillet was laid in front of you. You didn’t know how, you didn’t know why, but you managed to pull the strings. Although.. you know exactly why. Just didn’t wanna admit it. Shy to say it. Hence the salmon. You just wanted to cook Joel something nice. A lie you tell yourself.

The problem is, you don’t really cook. You learned to, yes, and occasionally do because of the situation of the world. But the marry-me-salmon intimidated you, the scribbled recipe mocking you from the counter. Were you too desperate? No use crying over spilled milk. Or in this case, killed salmon.

“What’s this I’m smelling?” You can hear the faint sound of Joel’s teasing as he made his way downstairs. You rolled your eyes, knowing he’d make fun of you attempting to cook. Before you know it, he was already behind you, trying to take a peek at what you’re making.

“Go away, it’s a surprise,” you quickly say, rushing to cover the recipe title. You would rather die than have him see that. He chuckled at your panicked reaction and raised his hands up in defeat.

“Alright, darlin’,” he grinned ear to ear, leaving a kiss on the top of your head before retreating to the dining table. “Just don’t burn down the kitchen,” he teased again. You clicked your tongue in annoyance though you can’t help but smile.

You messed up the recipe a bit. And it didn’t help that Joel kept looking up from the book that Ellie lent him to see what you’re cooking. You shouldn’t have said it was a surprise because you’ve got him awfully curious. At least it’s finally finished. You tried to plate it nicely, earning a few chuckles from Joel from how endearing you looked. It was lost on him why you had to be doing all this.

“And what did I do to deserve this?” He asked, cocking a brow at you when you put down the dish in front of him. He immediately closed his book, taking a whiff of the salmon.

“Just.. Cause I love you,” you smiled, taking a seat across him and propping your cheek on your palm. He chuckled again, warmth spreading in his chest. There was no way you cooked for him without any ulterior motive. If Joel learned anything from those three years with you, it is that you hate cooking unless you really have to.

But when you’re this beautiful, speaking to him so softly with that angelic smile? All for him? Joel chooses to believe you. He was a goddamn lucky bastard indeed.

“Well I love you too darlin’, thank you,” he says genuinely in that baritone voice of his. The sweetness of the moment didn’t last very long as he starts cutting the fish and you anxiously waited for his reaction. You just hope that the little mistake you made wasn’t very crucial to the dish. He eventually puts it in his mouth and started chewing.

“Well?” You ask, not even giving him a second. He hummed, taking a moment to process the taste. It was quite alright. He thought it could use more salt.

“S’good,” he nodded with a little smile. You knew damn well he was lying. And you knew that he would finish the whole thing anyway just because you made it. You wondered if the mistake you made had been that bad or if the lady at the square was full of shit.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” You pouted, pulling the plate and taking a fork to taste it yourself.

“Darlin’, I said it was good,” he insisted, his brows knitted together. He’d tease you til his death but he’s so sweet when he needed to be. It made you feel really bad. You finally tried it yourself and none of you were exactly right. It was just.. Average. Okay. Edible. Just needed more salt. You felt silly for not giving it a taste test before serving it.

“I’ll fix it,” you say, abruptly standing up to look for the salt above the counter. It wasn’t there. You hurriedly searched the kitchen like a cop scanning for drugs.

“Darlin’,” Joel chuckled, standing with you. “Would you just sit down?” You didn’t listen, suddenly remembering that you ate breakfast in front of the TV and brought the salt with you. You were already running to the couch before Joel could stop you.

As he shakes his head with a loving smile, he sees it. The scribbled recipe on the counter. The marry-me-salmon.

He felt like the wind got knocked out of his lungs. This was it. You wanted to marry him. He quickly reached into his back pocket as if he was trained to do so upon hearing the information. His mind was screaming at him, now! Now! Now! Hell, did he even prepare a question?

You got back to the kitchen to find Joel on one knee. A ring between his thumb and his pointer finger. Funny enough, you thought it really was because of the salmon. In a way, it is kind of true. Are all salmons hexed with a marriage spell no matter how bad they taste? Doesn’t matter. Joel Miller, the love of your life, was finally proposing to you. You shakily exhaled as if you’ve been holding your breath for a while.

“Darlin’..” Joel began, his voice shaking. Though he didn’t really know what to say except for the desperation that he felt. The urgency to just be with you. “Please marry me?”

As tears formed in your eyes, still not believing what’s happening, you can’t help but ask him, “Is it because of the salmon?”

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thank you for reading!! 🫶🏼