#it's something i say frequently and now i'm just. where did this word come from

[evenyvn]

All You ; part 02

Idol!San x SingleMom!Reader

Summary : San's visits to the quiet restaurant grow more frequent, drawn by something—or someone—he can’t quite name. A casual conversations with the owner's teasing smile stir something in him, but it’s her little daughter's innocent words that truly shake him.

Cw : she/her reader, sfw, fluff, third person POV, a little smau at the end, downbad san, reader has a daughter, stranger to lovers, un-established relationship (san thought reader are still married), san is girl dad coded, yn feeding san like he didn't eat for a week (lmao)

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San found himself frequenting the cozy little restaurant over the next few days. It had quickly become his favorite escape—a warm place where the food was delicious, the air smelled like comfort, and the company was even better.

He'd grown close to both Hana and her mom—Y/N. They welcomed him like family, and San, without realizing it, began craving the simplicity he found within those four walls. The humble atmosphere somehow reminds him of home—of his family back in Namhae.

Today, he sat at his usual spot on a table near the counter, sipping on warm tea while waiting for Hana to come home from school. Y/N was wiping down the counter when San finally worked up the nerve to ask something that had been lingering in his mind since their first meeting.

"Hey, uh... can I ask you something?" San began, swirling the tea in his cup.

Y/N looked up, curious. "Of course."

"Back when we first met, you said, 'I know.' What did you mean by that?"

A small smirk tugged at her lips. "Ah, that. I recognized you. You’re an idol, right? From that group called... ATEEZ?" San blinked in surprise. "Wait—you know ATEEZ?"

"Oh I know of you. You're from KQ just right on the corner of the street from here right? some of my customers work as a staff there and sometimes play your songs and talk about your groups during break hours. I don’t really follow idols, but I know a few names. Including you."

San rubbed the back of his neck bashfuly, trying to hide the pink rising to his ears. "I know this might sound a bit weird... but who’s your bias?"

Y/N tilted her head, pretending to ponder seriously. "Hmm... Wooyoung. He's adorable." She said with a playful grin making San gasped dramatically, eyes wide with betrayal. "Wooyoung?!"

Y/N laughed as she slid a small dessert plate toward him. "What? He's got that cheeky charm from what I've heard."

San pouted, but the moment his eyes landed on the dessert, his expression brightened like a child on Christmas morning.

"Eat a lot, San. You're still young," Y/N said teasingly making the pout on his face came again. "I'm not that much younger than you, noona."

She raised an eyebrow with a knowing smile. "Still older than you." San raised both hands in surrender, grinning. "Fine, you win."

They shared a light laugh before Y/N stepped away to the kitchen. San stay seated, picking at his dessert and glancing around the space. The restaurant felt even more homely now—he could name most of the regulars, and there was always a seat saved just for him.

At one point, Y/N reemerged and placed a freshly made roll in front of him. "Try this. I'm testing a new recipe."

San took a bite, eyes lighting up. "Oh, this is amazing. You should definitely add it to the menu." Y/N beamed at his words, "I was hoping you'd say that. Your taste is starting to matter here, San." She said as she walked back to the kitchen.

Before he could say more, the door flew open and Hana burst in, her hello kitty backpack bouncing with each excited step. "Uncle San!!"

San turned just in time to catch her as she jumped into his arms. He lifted her with ease, spinning her once before setting her down with a warm chuckle. "Hey, princess! How was school?"

"It was fun! I drew a picture of a big dragon and I got a star sticker from my teacher!" Hana began rambling about her day, words tumbling over each other in excitement.

San listened intently, occasionally nodding, but every now and then, his gaze drifted behind the counter to Y/N, who was busy wiping a plate, completely unaware of the attention.

There's something in San's eyes whenever they set on the woman, there's crystal clear admiration and perhaps awestruck look on his face.

Hana noticed.

She stopped mid-sentence, squinting up at him suspiciously, "You like eomma, don't you?" San choked. "Yes—I mean, what?? No! I mean i do like her but not in like that-"

Hana raised a suspicious eyebrow as she playfully poked San's dimple. "So you don't like her?" He flailed slightly, embarrassed. "W-what even makes you say that?"

She shrugged. "You make the same face my friend Eunji does when she looks at the boy she likes." San opened his mouth, then closed it again, completely lost for words.

He doesn't like Y/N... does he?

San shakes his head, what was he thinking?? he can't have a silly crush over someone who's married let alone with kid at that!

While San having an inner turmoil with himself—Hana just beamed innocently. "It's okay! I like eomma too! Everyone likes eomma. She's the best eomma in the world!"

San smiled, secretly sighing in relief and heart melting at the little girl's innocence. He ruffled her hair softly. "Yeah... I think you're right about that."

A little later, after Hana was off doing her homework in the corner booth, Y/N returned with another plate—this time, something sweet and warm.

"Is this for me too?" San asked with a playful tone.

"You keep helping out around here and keeping my daughter company. It’s the least I can do," Y/N said, her eyes soft.

San helped clean up some trays as the afternoon sun spilled golden light into the restaurant. He was humming softly to one of his group’s ballads when Y/N paused mid-step and chuckled. "You really can't escape music, can you?"

San grinned sheepishly. "Not really. It's kind of in my DNA now."

Y/N leaned against the counter and watched him for a moment. "It must be strange, going from all that attention and chaos to this little restaurant. Not many people came in here, only regulars and occasionally new curious people"

San looked around, then back at her. "Honestly? I think I like this kind of quiet more."

Their eyes lingered for a beat too long before San looked away first, cheeks faintly pink. Y/N seems aware of San's bashfulness just smile teasingly at the younger man.

And somewhere behind them, Hana peeked from her homework—mischievous smile on her lips as she whispered to herself, "He definitely likes eomma..."

taglist : @sunnysidesins @spenceatiny18 @flambychan @dumplingsyum @iwuberic @kirilunimimi @thedistractedwriter @d3kstar @rosydipity

honestly this series is just something that i didn't really mean to continue lmao so i didn't expect so many people enjoyed it and even asked to be tagged, nonetheless it really means alot to me🥹🫶

taglist are closed!

divider by @.adornedwithlight | likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated ♡

[l0v-ly-c4t]

Movie Night - Daisuke x fem!reader

Summary: You and Daisuke have a scary movie night, but it turns out he's too scared to sleep alone + after care

Pairing: smut and fluff

T/w: smut, mentions of Anya, protected sex, full consensual sex, loss of virginity, whinny soft dom Daisuke

Wc: 3,3K

A/n: This is an AU where the shitty compan- I mean, Pony Express doesn't exist, so our boy Daisuki is on college living his best life as the lover I know he is.

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━━ ❝ It has been some time since you started crushing on Daisuke. You met him when you first arrived at this school. Being the new student is taught, and he knew it, that's why he made so much effort just so you could have friends and feel welcome. After that you guys became best friends.

Obviously, you always thought he was handsome, and kind, and funny, but something about him kept bringing you closer, leaving you in the situation you're right now: friend zone.

The worst part is that, no matter how much you try to show him that you like him, he's just too danm naive to get a hint! Urgh, this feeling is consuming you from the inside.

Little did you know that he thought of you in the exact same way you did of him. Well, not exactly "exact same way." He had his own little way.

It took him a while to realize his feelings. At first, he just thought of you as his prettiest friend. He would stare at you and be lost in your looks without knowing why. He would always try and be useful for you, being it by carrying something for you or paying you something to eat at the cafeteria. He wanted to be around you all the time, he would get bored and blue without you.

It is actually impressive how he didn't realize his feelings until very recently, when he saw you talking very closely with another boy. How to describe his feelings? It wasn't jealousy, it was more a sense of loss. He finally realized that being friends didn't mean that you would always be by his side. For that, he needed to be more than friends. THAT'S when he realized his feelings.

But then, he panicked. "What does it mean??? Do I... l-like her?" Silly little thoughts like this were frequently on his mind. Oh, if only he knew that you thought of him too...

You and Daisuke were chilling on your sofa, waiting for the other friend of yours, Anya, to show up. You had decided to make a little movie section in your house since you and Daisuke haven't been able to talk much with Anya. She's just really focused on getting her degree.

You were both on your phones. Daisuke is playing some silly mobile game, and you are just scrolling down your tumblr timeline, looking for something fun to pass the time. It was already 8 pm, and Anya hasn't given any news yet.

"Dude, she must be really busy. She didn't even send a message or something!" Daisuke says, his lips almost pouting like a disappointed kid. "Don't worry, she has a lot of work to do, we can hang out another time." You confort him.

"Yeah..." he answers. "Is just that I was so excited, I was like 'Let's watch a movie, yay, bom bom clap!!!' But now I'm just 'yeah, movies'" He emotes.

"What?"

He sights. "Nothing. Do you still want to watch a movie? Just the two of us?" He asks.

"Yes, it'll be fun! Let's watch something scary!" You give the idea. Daisuke instantly smiled at your words, thrilled to watch a super super horror movie with you.

You let him choose a movie, and after a while, deciding which one, you finally settled on a psychological horror movie. You sat by his side on the couch, eventually laying your head on his shoulders.

Daisuke didn't even notice, but he would probably have blushed if he wasn't so absorbed in the screen. If you didn't know him, you would say he was scared.

After about 2 hours later, the movie ended, and Daisuke was just too pale. "Daisuke U good? Are you scared?"

"Me? Scared? Pfff, c'mom y/n!!! I'm the thoughtest guy you know!" He said, playing it off. "U sure? I don't want you coming at my room at midnight"

"Don't worry, you'll get your well-deserved beauty sleep, and I won't bother you," he said. "Whatever you say gorgeous" you played.

You guys watched some other movies, one scarier than the previous one. I mean, scaring for him. You were just cool, but Daisuke was biting his nails and playing with his fingers the whole time. You didn't pay much attention at the beginning, but as time passed, you could literally see his nervousness.

Worried for your friend psychological state, you decide that you should both take a bath and go to sleep, even though Daisuke kept swearing he wasn't dirty enough for a bath and that he could sleep that way just fine.

Both of you cleaned up you decide is time to sleep, the clock already hitting 2am. "S-so, am I going to sleep here? In the couch? A-alone?" He asks.

"Why? Are you scared?" You tease him, resulting in him making an angry face to prove it to you that he wasn't scared. "What? Naah, I'm, like, totally fine." He says. Oh, how he regretted that later that night.

You were almost falling asleep when you heard a light knock on your room door. You got up and checked just to see Daisuke, with the puppiest eyes you had even seen on a man, standing in front of your door eith a pillow under his arm. "Daisuke," you called. "What are you doing?

"You were right, I'm scared. Can we sit and talk just so I can fall asleep?" Daisuke said, silently begging for you to let him in already. You invite him to sit on your bed, and you both stay there for a while, just chilling. You were almost falling asleep again when he started a conversation.

"So.." he said. "Are u seeing someone?"

"Why are you asking this so randomly?"

"I-i don't know, I'm just trying to break the ice ans start a conversation" he eyes you. Even though the only light comes from the moon past your windows, you can notice the little blush forming on his cheeks and top of his ears. You also blush at the sight.

"Sooo, are you seeing someone or not?" He asked again "no I'm not. What about you?" You look back at him. "No"

At that moment, being right there on your bed sitting and talking in the middle of the night. That was so good to Daisuke. He didn't know why, but just to know that you weren't seeing anyone got him full of happiness, his sleepless far gone now.

You eye him, his lips hard pressed together. This feeling is new to him. He doesn't know how to describe it. He just wants to kiss you, hug you, and be close to you. So close that your bodies become one. In a fearless act, he leans closer to you, his eyes asking for permission as your lips grow closer and closer.

When your lips touch is like heaven to him. You were coight off guard, but you followed his actions without thinking twice. The kiss is slow and passionate, and the chemistry is just right. In a slow move, he drags his hands along your arms and place them behind your neck, pulling you even closer. He couldn't believe in his own actions. He was actually kissing you!

While one of his hands is still behind your neck, caressing the hair and pulling you more and more to him, his other hand travels to your tight. He's so scared he moves in slow motion. What if you feel uncomfortable? What if you pull away from him? He's so scared, but he needs to touch you, or he'll drive himself crazy.

Your body grew hotter as you felt the warmth of his hand gently caressing your tight. A low sound scales his lips when you pull the kiss apart, leaving him with a red face and pouty lips. "Is this real?" You asked. Daisuke didn't reply, he was too embarrassed of himself to do so. It all happened so fast he didn't have the time to think straight about his actions.

The kiss was something you wished for a long time, and now that it was actually happening, you needed time to cope. To be honest, you have always imagined you and Daisuke together. You have always wished for him, craving for him silently. You wouldn't let this chance go to waste.

He stares at you with doe eyes, melting your heart. He looks so cute and so sexy at the same time that you actually feel dirty for having this kind of thought about him. Not knowing how to proceed, you both just stare at each other. For a moment, it feels like time has paused. For a moment, everything is about him and you, sitting on your bed with clumsy feelings and red lips.

"H-hey, so.. c-can we do more? Like... I want to kiss you more." Daisuke breaks the silence. You look at him, but it feels like you're looking straight to heaven. All you want to do is kiss him more. Not just that, you want him in a way you never wanted anyone before.

"S-soo... are you going to accept or... it's okay if you don't wanna, really!! A-actually, I don't even know why I'm asking, haha!" He fake laughs. His face became more redish and fluttered. He was about to pull completely away from you when you throw yourself on top of him.

You kiss him again, this time in a more needy and desperate way. You caught him off guard, but it didn't take long for him to respond to your kiss. Very gently you start to move, now sitting on his lap, never breaking the kiss as you do it.

He's overwhelmed. He can't say he never thought of you on his lap, but to actually have you there is a totally different level. He can feel himself getting harder as you get closer to him, pressing your body onto his.

Your hands go around his neck, hugging him while you press yourself on his chest. His arms hug you from your waist, caressing your back and sending you chills. He slowly lowers his hands until he reaches your butt, gently grabring it.

"Ahh, so hot" he says between kisses, making you shiver and readjust yourself on top of his laps. You start to grind on his lap, moving in a painfully slow rhythm. With his hands still on your butt you trail your kisses dawn his jawline.

He's lost in the feeling of your mouth in his neck, and just the thought of you leaving hickeys on him makes him even harder down there. How lucky was him for having a girl like you on top of him? He didn't know. He just knew he was lucky as hell.

"I-i need to tell you something.." Daisuke says. You make a signal for him to continue talking but never leaving his neck, your mouth glued to him like you need him to survive. "I'm- ah, I never... uhm, I-m a v-virgin" he finally says.

You stop the kisses, and he panics for a moment. You move back to look at him, his lips red and glimpse from the earlier kiss. You take your hand and put on his left cheek, caressing a little to bring comfort to him. "I-i'm a virgin too. Hehe" you say.

"So, like, do you want to stop here?"

"No- I mean... we c-could make it work. O-only if you want to, or course!!" You say, now being the shy one. Everything is new to you both, the feelings, the sensations, the craving, the desires: everything.

After a while, just admiring you, Daisuke comes back to kissing, not lasting long and going straight to your neck. Now, it was his turn to leave marks on you. The little noises tha scape your mouth almost making him cum right there.

The make-out is way out of control now, both of you kissing and praising each other as the clothes disappear one by one. At one point, you were only in your bra and panties sitting in front of him.

With his hand, he reaches to your arm, slowly making his way to your back. Your faces so close to each other you could count the moles in his face. "Can I take your bra off?" He asks. You nod, and he proceeds to do so.

He helps you take it out and throws it where the other clothes were thrown previously. He trails kisses down your bodies, starting from your neck and going all the way down to your clavicle. He worships you like you're the last drop of water in a desert, kissing and leaving hickeys everywhere he passes.

When he finally reaches for your boobs he can't help but stare. "Ahh, you're just so pretty~ I want you all for me," he says, looking at you.

In a bold movement, you push him down, forcing him to lay on his back while you crawl on him until you reach his lap again. For a moment, you stop what you are doing. "Wait, what about protection?"

"There in my pants, in the wallet, there is one we can use." he says. You get up quickly and gind the condom exactly where he said it was. "Do you always have this thing with you all the time? Why?" You ask coming back to him. You sit at the same position you were before.

"For moments like this." he answers, making you blush and smile a little. He smiles, too.

You look down at him, the volume in his boxes being extremely visible. "This looks painfull" you say as you help him take his boxes, leaving him full naked under you. "Oh, it is, c-can you help me?" He asks, his voice clearly more desperate than before.

You take of your last piece of clothing and open the condom. Stroking him a little before, you put it on his dick. "A-ah, that's... so tight.." he hisses. "I think you underestimated you size baby"

He blushes. "Hey, don't you think it would be less painfully if I was the one on top?" He asks

"Well, maybe... I'm not actually sure."

"Let's try then." He gets you on his arms and switches the position, now being on top. This view of you makes him feel like on cloud nine. The prettiest girl he'd ever seen all open and needy for him? Danm, he could cum just by the view of you like this.

Not being able to watch any longer, he positions himself and moves forward, his dick filling you inch by inch. The pain makes itself present, but it's not something you can't handle.

"Ah- ahh, you're so tight... shit" Daisuke says as he finally puts everything in. "Oh yes, ahh~ you're so hot, so tight, hmmm.. so fucking good"

He lay his body down, letting his weigh on top of you. You can hear his little moans in your ears as you try to get used to his length. "Danm Dai, I didn't know you were s-so big"

"S-stop it, if you talk like this I might already cum." He smiles. "A-ah, I can't believe I'm finally in you"

"I-i think.. you can move now.." You say, the pain now transformed into pleasure, making you crave for more and more of him.

He starts to push into you, the feeling consuming your senses. The extase is just too much. You actually feel like you could come right there already. "O-oh my god, ahh~"

"D-do you like it? Am I, ahh- am I doing g-good?" He asks. His voice filled with luxury, whispering right at your ear. "Y-yes, yes"

He slowly picks his pace, savoring and discovering your body. He wants to know every place you're sensible at, every move that makes you moan louder, he wants to kiss every corner of your body and make you feel so special that your would come just for him. Gosh, that's his greatest wish.

You were getting overstimulated, your clímax approaching so fast your moans started to go silent. Then, he suddenly stops. You look at him with a sad eye, a moan of protest leaving your mouth as you roll your eyes at the back of your skull.

"W-why'd you stop?"

"C-can we switch positions? Uhm, there's this one position I've always wanted to try.." he asks, his lips pouty like a little kid and his dick twitching inside you like a rock. You were in so much pleasure that you would accept anything this man asked you, so you instantly agreed.

He guides you how he wants, and you end up on all fours, with your chest glued on the bed and your ass up like a cat. He stands behind you, his eyes betraying him as he worships you. "Shit, you're so hot, you know that? Perfect, just perfect, ahh"

He positioned himself again, not sparing time for you to get used to him, going as fast as he can the moment he's inside you. He's crazy. So lost in the souce he can't make a proper sentence, he just yaps nonsense and moans desperately, seeking his hight just as he seeks your pleasure.

Your moans are like music to his ears. The more you moan, the more he knows he's good for you. "Aahhh, I don't think I'll- hmm, last any, uh longer" he moans.

He's now totally on top of you, his chest glues to your back while he leaves kisses, hickeys, and bites at your neck, making your pleasure ten times bigger. He's pushing as fast as he can, trying to make you feel as special as him.

"Ah, I-I'm gonna, ahh!" He screams. His movements become more erratic as he reaches his high. The condom becoming even more tight in his cock, now full of his liquids. You can feel his cock throb inside you, the feeling pushing you over the edge, making you both come at the same time.

The movements stop, and you just stay there trying to catch your breaths. After a while, he comes out of you and removes his condom. He lays down at your bed on his back, right by your side. You lay on your tummy and you look at each other.

"Did I do well? Was I good enough?" He asks.

"You were perfect, Dai" you reply. His eyes light, and he finally relaxes. You go closer and kiss his forehead, then his cheeks, then his nose, then you finally leave a peck at his lips. He looks at you with heart on his eyes. He's confident he's the happiest man in the world.

"So, are you seeing someone?" He asks. "Yes," you reply, "you."

After taking a bath, you both finally lay down to rest from your tiring movie night. He's hugging you from behind, leaving sugary kisses on your neck where the bruises start to appear. "Sorry I marked you, I went a little wild, hehe"

You turn to face him. "It's okay, Dai," you smile. He looks at you and throws a sad smile. You know him too danm well to recognize when something is off with him, and since he's just naturally honest, it's usually not hard to find out what it is that is bothering him.

"What happened?"

"Can I ask you a serious question?"

"Sure, go on," you reply.

"What's your favorite Pokémon?"

"Are you serious??" You ask. The sound of his laugher travellings straight to your heart.

"No, seriously now. Do you... happen to like me? Or something?" He plays with his fingers while looking down, just occasionally looking up to see your reaction. You don't even need to think before you answer him. "Yes, I do." You say.

When he was about to say something, you heard a ringtone, someone was calling you.

"It's Anya!"

"God, FINALLY!"

You accept the call. "Girl, you could have sent a message!" You sight. "It's okay, we understand. What I did all night? Ah, you know, casual things... cupcakes." Daisuke smiles by your side. "Okay, rest well, se ya!" You hang the call.

"Is my new nickname 'cupcake'?" He plays.

"Shut up."

F/n: Sorry if it looked like I was babying him, I just had this thought of him being a really sweet young guy. Also, sorry if it looked rushed, I am DEFINATLY NOT a professional, both in writing and in English. (Please tell me if I made a spelling mistake)

[27spoons]

CRUSH | ACT TWO: IF YOU'RE TOO SHY (LET ME KNOW)

pairing: natalie scatorccio/fem!reader

summary: Two weeks since the night at the party, you find yourself at Natalie's side, again. Nothing ever seems to go wrong when you're together.

wc: 5970

warnings: mentions of drug usage, threatening behaviour, mentions of violence (nothing actually depicted), lowkey some spiraling thoughts towards the end

a/n: i have angst in my pants! sorry this took so long lmao I'm a chronic procrastinator

ao3 / masterlist

PREVIOUS - ACT TWO: RIBS

NEXT - ACT TWO: SMOKE SIGNALS

"We're gonna get stabbed." Are the first words out of your mouth when you turn down a very… unbecoming street.

"We are not gonna get stabbed." Nat snorts, flicking out her switchblade, "If anyone is doing the stabbing, it'll be me." She makes some stabbing motions for effect, her grin wide and goofy at the sound of your laughter.

You two have been hanging out more frequently since that night at the party, and it's been easier than expected. You aren't sure if she feels bad for flirting so aggressively, feels bad for ignoring you the entire party, or something else entirely, but it's been nice getting to know Nat.

"You know, that is not as comforting as you think it would be." You roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth tug upward in a small smile. "Because nothing says 'safe' like my friend waving a knife around while we walk down a sketchy street."

"Friend?" She echoes, raising an eyebrow and twirling the blade once before closing it with a satisfying click. "That what we're calling this now?"

A scoff leaves your mouth in an attempt to hide the blush that's appeared on your cheeks, "Well, I don't know. What else would I call it?"

She shrugs, shoving the knife back into her pocket. "I dunno. Just feels weird to hear someone like you call me a friend."

"Someone like me?"

Nat shoots you a look, "See, I know you're smart. So why you're playing dumb…" She trails off, and you roll your eyes. "Whatever. Here we are, anyways." 

A beat passes before curiosity gets the best of you as you walk past the third building with boards in the windows, "Speaking of… where is here?"

She nods towards a gap in the chainlink fence that looks like it's been cut open with bolt cutters, "Just trust me, Princess."

You aren't sure when you started trusting her. Maybe it was that night she walked you home, and you had an epiphany. Maybe it was the Monday after the party when she showed up at your locker with a cup of hot coffee and acted like it was no big deal. Maybe it was when she started texting you memes at ungodly hours of the night with dumb captions. Or, maybe… it's simply been building over the course of the two weeks since that party.

Whenever it started, you're grateful that it did. Your friends have started telling you that you've been more confident recently, and your parents have noticed that you've been coming home later after school than usual and on days that you'd usually come straight home. They haven't asked why, but even if they did, you'd probably just tell them you've been spending it in the library. 

Well… you're pretty far from the library right now, aren't you?

"Hey," Nat cuts off your train of thought, "You're being quiet. Thinking about me?" She teases, bumping your shoulder before moving the chainlink to the side.

"Thinking about how you still haven't told me where we're going," you shoot back, hoping it's enough to convince her that you were not, in fact, thinking about her.

"Why would I tell you when you can just see?" She shoots you a wide grin, "We're almost there. C'mon."

You make a noise of disagreement as you move through the hole, Nat following close behind you. 

"I'm really hoping this isn't all part of a long scheme to murder me." 

"Oh, trust me." The blonde chuckles as she starts walking down the makeshift path that's begun to form in the ground, "If I wanted to kill you, I would've done it that night we went to the skatepark. Or the night I walked you home. Or any of the occasions I've had you alone. Spending more time with you is a terrible way to draw attention to myself, Princess." She turns her head to look at you, "You've been around me often enough—have you not learned anything?" Nat clicks her tongue and turns her head back.

"No. I don't pay attention to your delinquent activities, Natalie." You grin, taking a few quick strides to catch up with her.

"Oh, yeah?" She shoots a smirk at you that has you almost tripping over a rock, "Well. We're just gonna have to start spending more time together then, Princess."

Natalie doesn’t wait for you to respond. She strides ahead, her boots crunching against the gravel path as if she knows you’ll follow. And you do—because, of course, you do.

You sigh (although it's more of a huff, really) at her comment and continue to trail slightly behind her. "We already spend far too much time together." A beat of silence and a low laugh from Nat prompts you to keep talking, “Are you actually going to tell me where we’re going, or is this another one of those ‘just trust me’ things?”

The blonde shoots you an infuriating grin over her shoulder, continuing those long strides. “It’s always ‘just trust me,’ Princess. Keeps you on your toes.” She turns around to face you, walking backwards. "Plus, surprises are fun, yeah?"

A huff escapes your lips at that comment, "First of all, you're gonna walk backwards into a tree. Second off, I hate surprises." You cross your arms defiantly, "I thought you knew this by now."

"If you hate surprises, you sure keep picking the wrong person to hang out with." She sidesteps a tree behind her without even thinking about it—like she's taken this path enough to know it like the back of her hand, and she probably has. "Because I am just full of surprises. Shit, you still got a bunch more just… waiting to be uncovered. Like Pandora's Box!"

"...isn't Pandora's Box mostly bad things?"

Nat nods in agreement to your statement, that dumb grin reappearing on her face. "Yep. Released evil into the world, or something." A dismissive wave of her hand, "But it's the curiosity that kills. And we both know you are very curious, Princess." 

You huff, glancing away briefly in an attempt to hide the blush that burns up your neck at the tone she uses, "I don't—" Another huff, "Whatever. What's your point, Natalie?"

She shrugs, spinning back around to keep walking, "Nothin', nothin'. Just wondering how bad it's killing you right now to not know where we're going."

The scoff that leaves your lips is far too forced to escape the notice of the girl walking in front of you, and you can almost imagine the grin on her face as you reply, "Not that much." 

Nice. You sound like a whiny child. Good on you, really showing her.

"Sure, sure," Nat says, pushing some overgrown bush out of her path. "C'mon. Almost there. Promise."

You follow her through the bush, almost getting smacked in the face with a branch when you lose your attention for half a second, but successfully make it out unscathed, and you find yourself standing in front of what looks like an abandoned house. The white paint has long since peeled away, revealing weathered and rotted wood underneath. With the way the windows are bordered up, door hangs half-open in the wind, and roof looks half-caved in, you're starting to wonder if you were right about the whole 'her murdering you' thing.

"I can't remember if my tetanus shot is up to date…" You murmur as you carefully step over a broken bottle, a far contrast to how Nat is walking right now, all confidence and swagger. You'd be lying if you said you didn't envy the air of it that she seems to carry with her at all times.

Nat laughs lowly at the comment, shaking her head as she approaches the front steps to the house, "Never gotten one, and I've been fine so far." She briefly glances at you and gestures to the steps, "Watch your footing. It's rotting. Step on the spots that look dry."

You cringe at the comment about the steps rotting and watch carefully which parts she presses on. "I'm starting to think you have a thing for sketchy places." 

"Yeah, well." She shrugs and stops the front door from clattering against the frame, "They’re quieter than most places, y’know? No one bothers you out here.”

"That's because no one wants to come out here."

"Exactly." As you carefully walk up the stairs, she grins at you, "You're getting it, Princess. Pick the places people don't want to come, and you won't be bothered." 

Despite the steps protesting with every step you take, you make it to the top without falling through a rotten wooden plank. Nat gestures for you to enter first, which makes you hesitate for a few seconds, but you ultimately enter before she does.

The interior is… not terrible, surprisingly. Sure, it's abandoned and worn down, but it doesn't smell like death, and the grattifi on the walls gives the place some weird charm.

Nat drops her bag on the ground and stretches, cracking her neck. "Welcome to the 'Not-A-Crack-Den' Crack Den."

You stare blankly at her, blinking a few times. "The… 'Not-A-Crack-Den' Crack Den." You parrot, nodding slightly. "Right. That is… very reassuring, Nat. Thanks so much."

She grins at you as a particularly satisfying crack from her lower back sounds, "What can I say? I pick good names for things." A beat passes before she glances around, gesturing toward a few crates pushed up against a wall with peeling paint, "C'mon, sit. Promise you won't get stabbed by a shard of broken glass or whatever." With a grunt, she hoists herself onto one of the crates, nodding towards one pushed against an adjacent wall.

With great trepidation, you drop your backpack onto the crate before moving to sit on it, glancing down at the dirty floor before meeting her gaze again. "So…" You trail off, waiting for her to tell you why she brought you here.

"So…?" Nat repeats back, glancing at you with a curious expression as she pulls out her pack of smokes, tapping it on her wrist a few times before opening it up. "You gonna finish that thought, or just waiting for me to speak?"

A huff leaves your lips as you cross your arms, "No, well, yes, but—" You groan and rest your head against the wall behind you, "I just… why show me this place?"

Nat scowls to herself at your comment, clearly taking some form of offense to it. "What? Don't want me showing you my hangout spots anymore? Because I don't have to. We can go back to sitting around the school or the skatepark."

"No, no, wait, that wasn't what I meant. I just meant that—" You cut yourself off with a sigh, clearly just as terrible with words as she is. "Like… why this spot in particular? Just… uh… curious. Is all. Sorry. I didn't mean to…" You let yourself trail off again and rub a hand over the back of your neck in frustration at yourself and lack of proper communication skills. 

Cigarette smoke fills the room around you as Nat puffs on the end of a Marlboro Red, a sigh leaving her lips at your words. "No, I…" She scowls again, but this time more to herself than you. "I just wanted to bring you to another one of my spots, is all." She feigns nonchalance, but you can almost physically see the underlying sincerity behind her words.

"Oh." You say quietly, not quite sure how to respond to that.

The silence blooms between the two of you for a moment as Nat pulls drag after drag from her smoke, clearly also unsure where to go from here. 

Eventually, it's clear Nat can't take the silence anymore, and she speaks again with a low grumble, "Don't you have… like… your sketchbook or whatever?" She grunts and stubs the smoke out on the crate before flicking the butt to the ground. "You can, like, draw some inspiration from this place or whatever."

That, surprisingly… isn't the worst idea.

So, you unzip your backpack, pull out a pencil alongside your sketchbook and flip open to a fresh page. An unsure sigh leaves your lips as you glance around the decrepit house, a slight frown tugging at the corner of your lips. "I mean… it's definitely… atmospheric? I guess?"

A scoff parts from Nat's lips as she crosses her arms and leans back against the wall, "Atmospheric?" She chews on the word for a moment, "So… fancy art school talk for 'kinda shitty,' yeah?"

Your frown deepens for a moment before you realise she's just fucking with you, and you roll your eyes as a smile finds its way onto your lips. "No, I mean it. It's… abandoned, but not… forgotten?" You muse, tapping your pencil on the page, "Like there's still some life left in it."

"Shit, Princess." She raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms over her chest, "Didn't take you for a poet, too."

"Shut up." You mumble, glancing down to the page as you start sketching the first thing that comes to mind: Nat.

By now, she's pulled out another cigarette (because, of course, she has). She's idly smoking it as her attention shifts between her phone and you, seemingly just enjoying being in your presence without worrying about ulterior motives.

The first thing you sketch is how she holds it between her fingers, loosely but firmly enough that it won't slip from her them—an interesting juxtaposition, you think. Something about it feels similar to her character, in a way. Regardless, you choose not to linger too long on the thought. 

With the general shape of her hand done—slightly soft but still with visible definition—you start focusing on the finer details. The way her nails are cut so short you can't see the white tips on the ends of them. The slight boniness she has on the knuckles of her fingers. The rings she wears—mismatched with different shapes and colours. The prominent bones of her ring and middle fingers that appear when her hand flexes as she returns the butt of the cigarette between her parted lips. 

This brings you to the next thing you draw—how her lips wrap around the end. Soft and full but chapped. You imagine she's the type to lose every chapstick she's ever had.

You get so lost in this daze of sketching her features, the features that a part of you wishes you could learn more intimately, that you barely even notice Nat hopping off of her crate and walking up towards you, leaning forward to look at your page.

"Whatcha drawing?" She asks, peering over your shoulder to get a better look.

Her sudden appearance shocks you slightly, and you can't help it when you jump and almost send your pencil flying across the room. "Oh, uh!" shit. "I was just, uh, drawing, uh, the—"

"Ho-ly shit. This is wicked." She grins toothily, taking a long glance at the page that you fail to hide from her gaze, "I think you were drawing me, Princess." She points to the small sketch of the cigarette between her lips, "You even got the teeth right. Nice to see you aren't just turning me into a Barbie." Nat slaps your shoulder with her hand as she properly looks at your work once you stop attempting to hide it. "It's good. Real good." Her voice lowers to something more genuine and soft, mirroring the way her expression shifts. "It's, uh, nice. Seriously."

Your face heats up at the compliments, quickly turning your attention away from her. "You're only saying that because you don't know anything about art."

Nat hums, considering that. "Maybe. But I know what I like." She taps the page with her index finger, "And I like this."

A mumble leaves your lips, something that sounds like a meek 'thanks,' but it's quickly becoming clear that the smoker isn't done yet. "I don't show people my spots, you know? Most of the time, they either ruin it or just… don't get it."

A beat passes before you glance back up at her, "I… you think I get it, then?"

She meets your gaze, her expression shifting into something you can't quite place, and leans in slightly. "I think you get a lot of things about me that other people don't."

You swear time pauses, but that could very well just be your heart ceasing its beating, but the moment is gone all too quickly when you hear the creaking of wood and hushed chatters of… what sounds like a group of men.

"Fuck." Nat hisses, immediately pulling back and darting her eyes towards the door, "I didn't fucking think we'd have company right now. Shit."

You shake your head in confusion, "Wait, wait, company? Other people come here, then? Should I be—" Your words are cut off abruptly when a trio of men step into the house one by one. 

The first one, evidently the leader, sports a battered leather jacket and stone-washed jeans. His dark unkempt hair frames a crooked scar that stretches from the corner of his left eye to the bridge of his nose.

A low laugh spills from his lips when his steely eyes land on Nat, and the grin that splits his features is nothing short of feral. "Oh, shit! Scatorccio! Was wondering when we'd see you again."

Nat scowls at him, one of her hands reaching to rest on the handle of her pocket knife by habit. "Denny." She spits, "I was wondering when you'd end up dead. Shame it hasn't happened yet." The venom that drips from her words makes you shrink into yourself, genuinely surprised to hear her speaking with such a tone when she's been mostly calm with you.

The man, Denny, laughs again and scratches his chin as he speaks, "Yeah, bet you'd like that. Would be real convenient for you." 

He's about to keep speaking when one of his goons—a shorter man who honestly looks twelve—nudges him and points to you, sitting idly on your crate, sketchbook clenched tightly in fear.

"Oh, shit." Denny takes a step in your direction, and Nat's hand tightens around the handle of her blade, but she makes no effort to step in his way. "When did you start hanging around the…" He gestures vaguely to you and your form, "Loser type?"

A laugh spills from his lips, immediately echoed by the two men standing in his shadow, and this time, Nat does step forward. "Who the fuck I hang out with is none of your business, Denny." Her eyes flash to the man who nudged him, "At least I pick the ones that don't act like they need to fucking live in my shadow, Jackson."

Jackson, you assume, scowls at Nat but doesn't bite back with a comment of his own. 

Denny’s grin falters ever so slightly, a shadow passing over his features as his eyes dart toward Nat. "Careful, Scatorccio. Wouldn’t want you getting too comfortable running your mouth, yeah? Might get you into trouble."

Nat scowls at him again, "I don't give a shit where my mouth gets me, Dennis. I've spent more than a few nights behind bars. I'll do it again."

The man chuckles, but it’s colder now, devoid of humour. "Right, right. That's real cute, Scatorccio. But we both know I'm not talking about being in a prison cell. What's it been now, huh? A month? Two?" He tsks and shakes his head, "I'm keeping track. Are you?"

You see the way Nat tightens her jaw at the comment, "I don't owe you shit." 

Denny—Dennis?—lets out another cruel laugh, "See, that's the funny thing about debts, yeah?" He takes a step towards her and, by extension, you. "They don't just… handle themselves. And your old man… well, I don't see him handling them anymore. Not that he ever really did, anyway." He spits on the ground as he looks towards you, nodding his head in your direction. "Say, your little friend here know about daddy's little tab? Or you keepin' that piece of information to yourself?"

"This isn't about her." She says immediately, "Leave her out of it. This is about us."

"Mm, no." He shakes his head, "I think you got things mixed up here. You brought her here, so now she's involved. You know we like to come 'round here. You seriously telling me it's such a shock we did?" He scoffs and crosses his arms, "But hey, I’m a reasonable guy. You hand over what you owe—or come up with a reason for me to walk out of here without making a mess—and maybe we won’t have to get anyone else involved."

Nat stands her ground, but the way her fingers curl tighter around the knife’s handle tells you just how thin the ice is beneath her. You catch her glancing at you out of the corner of her eye, and the faintest trace of panic flickers across her face.

Which, in turn, makes you panic. Not that you weren't already, but it becomes far more visible on your features now. 

"You should leave." Nat mumbles to you, nodding her head to a rear door, "You shouldn't have to be involved in my shit."

Seeing Nat's head move, Denny nudges the remaining unnamed man who came in with him, and the guy heads towards the rear exit. "Nah. We're here, and we're gonna work somethin' out. Ain't that right, boys?" The two men nod their heads, and the one that looks like a literal child cracks his knuckles, and although it really isn't that menacing, it scares you all the same.

"So," Denny speaks after a moment, clearing his throat as his grin returns, "what's happening, Scatorccio? 'cus I doubt you got the cash on you to pay this off right now."

Nat fidgets, eyes darting between you and him nervously. "I told you I was working on it." She mumbles under her breath, which earns her a cruel laugh from Denny.

"Yeah, and you've had two months to work on it, sweetheart." The pet name comes out as an insult, and the unnamed man snorts at the use of it. "And, honestly? I'm done fucking waiting for you to pay up. I'm a reasonable man, Natalie, but even I have my fucking limits."

The blonde swallows nervously, knowing damn well she's outnumbered and you are far from a fighter, so she removes her hand from the handle of her blade and tentatively approaches Denny, speaking low enough that you can only make out a handful of words, most of which are swears.

It's a solid two minutes of them talking, and you trying not to actively have a panic attack with the way the other two men are looking at you before Denny claps his hands and steps back from Nat.

"I expect you to be there, Scatorccio. If you aren't?" He clicks his tongue, "I think that I'll be paying the trailer a visit next time. Maybe say hi to Vera, yeah?"

Nat doesn't say anything back to that as the men filter out of the house, but it's more than clear that she's shaken from the encounter. 

She doesn't face you again for thirty seconds after they leave, and she can't meet your eyes when she does. You see her jaw set uncomfortably tense, and her eyes flicker from point to point, but never to yours.

"Nat…" You trail off, not even noticing that you've clenched your notebook so tight that the page has started to rip, "Who… who were those guys? What… debt?"

"It's none of your business." She snaps immediately, eyes meeting yours now, "You weren't supposed to see or hear any of that. Just wrong place at the wrong time."

"But I have seen it." You murmur, glancing away from her and down to the ripped page, "I just… I don't know what it means—"

"And you won't." She cuts you off, "Because this point of conversation won't ever be brought up again, yeah? A one-time thing."

You frown and stand up from the crate, still clenching the book tightly. "It didn't seem like a one-time thing—"

"Drop it." Nat says, her jaw tightening.

"But I can't." You shoot back before you can stop the words spilling from your lips. You take a shaky breath, and everything you just witnessed is sinking in. "I can’t just pretend I didn’t see that, Nat. They… they threatened you. Your mom.” Your voice cracks slightly, but you push through. “And I have no idea what the hell is going on, but I care about you, okay? I can’t just let it go."

She laughs, cruel and sardonic. "Care about me? You don't fucking know me. You don't know shit. All you think you know is what you've pieced together from a few hangouts and some rumours. That's it."

“That’s not fair,” you counter, your voice rising slightly. “you don’t let anyone know you, Nat! You hide behind all this—this bullshit bravado and sarcasm because you think it’s easier than letting someone in.”

"Yeah?" Nat sneers, her voice cutting through the stale air surrounding you, "Well, maybe it is. Maybe it's easier to keep people like you at arm's length so I don't have to deal with… shit like this." She gestures between you, movements sharp and erratic, "You don't want to be a part of this world, Princess," The pet name rolls off her tongue in a way that makes you cringe and recoil into yourself, the once gentle name being used as something far more cruel, "so stop trying to be."

"You don't get to decide that for me!" You finally snap, stepping towards her in frustration as you throw your sketchbook down onto the crate you were sitting on, "I'm standing right here, Nat! I'm not going anywhere. And, yeah. Maybe I don't know everything about you. But I want to!"

Her breath catches slightly at your words, and for a brief moment, the mask she wears slips. But it’s back just as quickly, replaced with a hardened expression as she hisses, “You’re wasting your time.”

"Maybe." You murmur, taking another tentative step towards her, "But I don't think you get to decide that for me."

The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. Nat doesn't move, eyes boring into yours, and for a long moment, you worry she's going to say something scalding or just leave; the distance between the two irreparable. 

But, then, she's moving, crossing the short distance between the two of you in a single stride. Her hands grip your arms, both firm and uncertain, and before you can process what’s happening, her lips crash against yours.

You have no idea what's happening if you're being honest. Sure, you've had a few kisses before, but they have been like this. This passionate and intense, this filled with emotion. 

Nat kisses you with an urgency you've come to expect from her, and she doesn't half-ass anything; it's all or nothing, and this is no different. 

At least, at first. 

Then, she realises that you aren't kissing her in return, and she releases her hold on you, stumbling back a few steps and swiping at her mouth. 

Silence blossoms again as you stand there and stare at her, lips still tingling from the sudden crash of hers against yours, and you stare at her with your jaw slack. You aren't sure if you're even breathing at this point. Everything feels like it's balancing on a knife edge, just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Fuck!” She hisses under her breath, raking her hands through her hair. “Why the fuck did I—God, why are you like this?”

You blink and shake your head a few times, still in shock, but now even more so. "Wait, wait, hold on, what?" Finally, when you get your head back on, you only get more confused. "Why am I like this?" You snap at her, expression shifting from surprised to hurt. “Why are you like this, Natalie? One second, you’re—” You cut yourself off, throwing your hands in the air. “You’re impossible!”

Her laugh is sharp and humourless. “Me? I’m impossible?” She takes a step forward, frustration etched into every line of her face. “So what’s the point of you coming out with me if you’re just gonna be a fucking uptight bitch about everything, huh?”

"Wasn't it you that told me I needed to live a little, Natalie?!" You yell back, equally as frustrated. "And wasn't it you that said I should learn to say no?! God, why are you being like this?!"

She scoffs, "Has it occurred to you that maybe I would like you better if you just fuckin' took your clothes off, Princess? Huh?" She takes a step forward, "Even you aren't thick enough to see that I've been flirting with you for weeks."

That stings in a way you weren't expecting it to. You take a momentary step back, face contorting, "Fuck you, Scatorccio." You hiss at her, taking a step forward again and jabbing a finger into her chest, "Has it occurred to you that maybe I would like you better if you actually opened up about shit? Huh? Even you aren't thick enough to see, I've been trying to get you to open up for weeks!" You say, throwing her own words back at her.

"Listen, Princess," She sneers, jabbing her finger in your chest, "I'm just tryna fuck. Maybe you should get that through your fucking skull." But, even as she says it, and as much as the words sting, there's a waver in her voice as she says it like she doesn't really mean it but doesn't know what to say in this situation.

"Well, I'm not. And if that's all you want, then you have the wrong fucking person." You cross your arms defiantly, "You should have known that from the start, burnout."

Natalie's lip twitches in displeasure, but she seems to hesitate before saying whatever she is going to and instead opts to scoff and take a step back. "Whatever, nerd. Have fun with your fucking calculus textbooks and your neat little bubble." Then, she turns around and stalks off, slinging her backpack over her shoulder before burying her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket.

And then she’s gone, turning on her heel and stalking off into the shadows, leaving you standing there, raw and reeling, wondering how the hell it all went so wrong so fast.

You glance around the decrepit house, the air feeling much colder than when Nat was with you. The building no longer feels like there's life left in it—but rather, devoid of it. Empty and barren, mirroring the way you feel right now. You hate the place your thoughts take you to—the dark void that plagues you from time to time.

You look back down at your sketchbook, pages half torn and splayed wildly across the top of the crate you formerly used as a chair, and a shaky, weary sigh leaves you.

Gingerly, trying to stop the shaking in your hands, you slowly pack up your belongings, actively avoiding the way you etched her likeness into your book (and mind) as you do. Every move you make echoes in the space; the ruffling of pages and closing of your backpack zipper might as well sound like a plane taking off. 

You hadn't even spent that long with her today. You two had plans; she said after this that the two of you would go to that diner on fifth that serves breakfast all day. Maybe eat some shitty pancakes and get a milk-stache from a milkshake. 

But… the longer you think about it, did she even want that? Did she truly just… want one thing? Did she just see you as a body to use to pass the time with? A fleeting attraction that would fade once she got her fill? Playing the long game, just to see if it changes how the sex is?

Was that all she wanted?

The wooden steps protest under your weight as you leave the house, the wind picking up and pushing the door shut behind you—almost like a metaphor for something you'd rather not think about right now.

Gravel crunches beneath your feet as you step off the rotting porch, the cool evening air biting at your exposed skin. You pull your jacket tighter around yourself, wishing it could shield you from the ache settling deep in your chest.

Your feet carry you, almost on autopilot, down that same path that Nat had taken you through earlier, but it doesn't feel nearly the same. What was once exciting, thrilling, something out of your comfort zone… now just feels like a harsh reminder of what transpired between you. Empty and desolate. 

Fuck. When did you become so… tragic?

The streets are quiet. It’s almost eerie, the way the world seems to hum with an indifference that mirrors the hollow ache inside you. Your mind keeps replaying her words, the venom in them, the hurt you saw behind her eyes that she so desperately tried to mask with anger.

Why did it feel like she was pushing you away the second it felt like there would be any form of struggle within your relationship?

Better to hurt than be hurt, you suppose.

You stop under the dim glow of a streetlamp, your breath visible in the cool air. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, startling you from the train of thought you were stuck in. You fish it out, half expecting it to be her, even though you know better. It’s just a notification about some school assignment being due soon—something that feels insanely trivial right now.

Shoving your phone back into your pocket, you continue to let your brain send you down a path of thoughts you really shouldn't be letting it take you down. When she had leaned in earlier, voice uncharacteristically soft, telling you that you understood her in a way that others didn't… for a moment, you believed that maybe this could be something more.

But now? Now, you aren't quite sure what to believe.

You let your feet guide you down streets that are both familiar and foreign, not even registering the houses or buildings you walk past. 

Maybe this is who she is, you think. Chaotic, unpredictable, and closed off. And perhaps you can't change that, no matter how much you want to.

Maybe you don't want to. You just want to know why she is the way she is. An insight into the brain of Natalie Scatorccio. Something that people would likely pay to see.

Maybe… maybe she's just scared. Like you, but confronting her fear differently. 

When you finally reach your door, you linger on the porch, staring at the peeling paint on the frame and letting the silence stretch. The sound of the Monroe kids across the street playing basketball, the dog tied to the post a few houses down barking, and the wind shaking the leaves in the trees fill your ears and give you some clarity in this strange situation.

By the time you finally crack the front door to your house open, your mother is cooking something over the stove while idly bickering with your father as he leans against the countertop, neither of them noticing your entrance.

You'll eat your food and try to sleep, but realistically, you'll just stare at your ceiling and replay every aspect of your interaction with Nat for hours, and sleep will never come.

Fucking Natalie Scatorccio.

Fuck Natalie Scatorccio.

Fuck Natalie Scatorccio and the way you still fucking care about her.

Fuck.

a/n: man, when i said this chapter would be hard to write, next chapter... oof. next chapter is gonna be heavy in so many different aspects. you will both hate and love me, if you don't already. <3333333333

[mappedfantasy]

> anything to get me to sleep

summary: vessel has insomnia and cuddles help him sleep. pairing: vessel x gn!reader warnings/tags: sleepy!vessel, roommate!vessel, insomnia, texting (brief), cuddling, non-sexual intimacy, feelings realization. word count: 1.6k a/n: i had promised someone on ao3 that i would make another sleepy!ves fic, so i'm fulfilling my promise to them! this was pretty self-indulgent as well, i love the idea of someone being so safe with you that it helps them sleep. and as always, roommate!vessel credit to the lovely wolfie <3 ao3 link

It had been a long time since you had learned Vessel struggles with insomnia. The information came slowly previous to you right out bringing it up to him one day. You had noticed how much coffee he drank by the cups in the sink, how a lot of times he’d still be awake as you left in the morning, his body language being restless. You heard it in his voice too, saw a certain daytime depression. After a while, it had started to worry you, and that's when you asked him about it. 

He was shy at first, tried to push it off with an awkward laugh. “No…?” you remember him saying, not a single bit convincing of himself or you. 

And when you had given him a look of non-conviction, he broke, telling you it had been something he deeply struggled with since he were a teenager. He told you he had to take melatonin to help him sleep, even though at times that didn’t work. Anything to try to get him to sleep, or so he said. 

You took it upon yourself to be of use when possible, providing what support you could for him to get some well deserved rest more frequently than he was able to achieve on his own. You decided you would never comment on it much either, at least not in a way that would make him feel worse about it than he did to begin with. 

Meaning you chose to never bring up the times he fell asleep on you during movies, where you’d get up as best you could without waking him up. He would wake up on the couch, no recollection of falling asleep, and a text message from you reminding him that you would be home soon. You felt a smidge bad about lying to him, but he needed the rest at any given chance he had. You didn’t blame him for it, so no use of bringing details up. The guilt he could feel because of it wasn’t worth it. Call you crazy, but you cared about his feelings. 

That was exactly what had happened now, Vessel had taken a couple melatonin in hopes to get some rest after his thirty-something hours of being awake. About an hour ago, he had told you that he was off to bed, joked that if you didn’t see him for three days then call it a miracle. 

You let out a startled laugh seeing a couple texts come onto your phone screen from him. 

Ves: i can’t sleep :( Ves: this is unfair 

Of course this happened, it was his luck. Completely unfair. The utmost injustice for the guy. The universe must have it out for him at this rate of things. Unfortunate.

You: you poor thing :(

You absently giggle to yourself after you receive no response back for a couple minutes. The mental imagery of him being huffed up in his bed with blankets wrapped around him, staring at his phone with a frown, is quite comical in the grand scheme of this. It wasn’t anything to allow to slide past him either, for him to sulk over while sleepy to the extremes (or at all, if you were to be especially honest with him) over some light teasing. You had lived with him long enough to know this, let alone be his friend for long enough. So, yeah, Vessel tended to act a bit “childish” while tired. 

You: do you wanna come to my room for cuddles? 

Promptly after leaving you on read, a lazy knock is at your door before being pushed open to reveal Vessel waddling to the edge of your bed. He flops face first into your mattress with a loud, over-the-top groan. He lifts his head just enough to pout at you, knowing your eyes are boring into him. You can’t help the soft sigh you let out as you reach your hand to scratch at the back of his head. Seeing him in this state made you feel a softness for him you tended to ignore. And you quickly stop thinking about it once he makes a noise at how good your nails feel on his scalp. 

“That feel good, yeah?” You breathily laugh, it’s delirious sounding. If he wasn’t too sleep deprived to catch it, he didn’t mention it or have any reaction to it. 

He sinks his face deeper into the fluffy blanket spread across your bed. You weren't sure how he was breathing in this position. “Mhm…” he amuses in agreement. 

“Do you want to come up here? Lay on me?” is offered to him. You tap at your chest with your free hand, although he can’t see what you’re doing at all. 

He makes a disgruntled noise. 

“No? It’ll be more comfy, Vess. You may even get to fall asleep,” you try to sweeten the deal. 

Another sound comes from him in time with turning his head to the side to say words lacking in muffledness. “Don’t want to move.” His voice is quiet and slowed, stretched thin. 

You laugh out. Your hand stops moving in his hair, you retract it back. “Well, then, no more head scratches.” 

Vessel snaps to look at you, chin resting on the blankets, eyes a little widened. Then comes his signature pout, the one you were imagining before. It doesn’t ever get any less cute. 

“Fine,” he mutters unenthusiastically. 

He picks himself up limply, dragging himself up your bed, and drives his face into your neck. This is where he melts down into nothing. His body deflates itself into yours, in a way that felt like lines blurred between where your body starts and where Vessel’s ends. 

Because of this, you stay silent for a couple moments, half-shocked and half-savoring of this feeling. Your hand hovers around the back of his head until his hand draws your hip impossibly closer to him. That’s when your fingers dip back down into his scalp. Your other hand strokes up and down his arm at a soothing pace. 

Cuddling wasn’t a new thing happening in your relationship, if you’d call being roommates with him a type of relationship. Cuddle sessions happened often between the two of you. Happened during movies on the sofa, if either of you had a nightmare, simply couldn’t sleep (much like what’s happening this time), if Vessel had a particularly long day. Thinking of it, cuddles had taken place every single day in the past as long as you could remember. 

When did that happen? 

When did you start remembering how all he seemed to want was an excuse to be close to you lately? How pouty he turned when you had questioned him about it instead of going with it naturally? When did he start coming behind you while you did the dishes or cooked a special meal for you both? When did he start to get closer to you on the sofa, blaming it on the lack of blanket, despite that one being a specifically huge one for sharing purposes only? When did he start to ask to hold your hand because he was “cold”? When did he start allowing himself to have this intimacy with you, and why? More importantly, when did you start to feel as if all these things were normal, letting them slip by you like this was always something that took place? Maybe like it was supposed to be happening.

“...and it’s frustrating that I still can’t sleep. Do you get what I mean?” Vessel’s voice comes into your main focus, becoming almost like an echo through your skull at how out of focus you were. 

During that time, he had moved his face out of your neck. Had opted to squish his cheek against your chest instead, nose half-stuffed into the cotton of your sweatshirt. 

“Mhm,” you hum. Bearings still aren’t with you fully, still distance in sound. 

Vess’ hand pinches at your side, making you jump in surprise. Well, you were surely back on Earth with that. “You weren’t listening to me.” You could hear the effects of his mouth being in a squished position. How cute. 

“Yes, I was!” you lie. 

He takes a pinch at you again. “You were not. I can tell when you’re lying.” He dryly laughs, empty of emotion, like that information should’ve been obvious to you. Maybe it should have been… 

“Okay, I’m sorry,” you admit, “What were you talking about?” 

He sighs dramatically, which you lightly flick him on the ear for, going on to summarize what he’d said, “What I said was that I’m really frustrated about how melatonin doesn’t work that much anymore. I take ten milligrams for fuck’s sake! I just wanna sleep.” He trails off at the end, changing to be more hushed. 

Your hand on his arm gives him a small squeeze, holding there for a few seconds too long. “Is this helping?” you ask. “You know, doing this? Me being here?” 

Same mhm from before is made. “More than you know.” Oh…

His face nuzzles more into the fabric of your shirt, balls up the bottom of it into his fist. He pulls forward with a gentle tug. He was not past greediness. This hand sneaks under the material, reaching up just enough to be able to palm at the flesh of your stomach. You feel him grin. It’s gooey, (love)sick, honeyed. He’s satisfied. 

All the while, you had some things coming into perspective that would be due for another time. Vessel needed rest. 

For once, Vessel was able to fall asleep within minutes. He hadn’t felt so at peace, so safe, in many moons. Eventually, he slowed in his breathing, had fallen asleep in record time for maybe his entire lifetime. He was safe with you, truly safe. He would never tell the tale, but you felt something of what the word “home” was meant to serve. 

[zayneslady]

summary: it's been a while since the last time you saw him, but you missed him so terribly.

warnings: angst/comfort. Happy endings for the win *sobs* Pt. 2 of these scenarios

characters: Zayne, Rafayel, Xavier x reader (separately)

a/n: I wanted to apologize. I got some comments saying that perhaps I wrote them a bit too ooc and that they wouldn't do something like this, so I was thinking maybe I should step out from writing these; I'm probably not understanding the characters very well. I'm really sorry! I had this one written already, so this is probably going to be the last post I make! Thank you for your support! In only a couple of days you guys were so amazing and loving, I'm super moved and I don't deserve you all at all ❤️

classification: scenarios

tag list: many of you asked me to tag you in the second part, I hope you guys like it! 💕

@biitchyberry @rosaryia @lcheerymotion @mo0nforme

ZAYNE ❄️

It's been four weeks since your argument with Zayne. The first days had been like hell. You had already tasted the honey of a relationship with the person you liked the most and loved the most. You wanted more of him, you needed more. You felt anxious without him, like you had become addicted to his kisses, his gentle touch, and the sweet words he whispered in your ears. You missed him more than you dared to admit.

The days passed slowly, each second seemed to last an eternity. When you got home you felt the emptiness of his presence and you felt like dying, but life continued on, and eventually you got used to being without him. The pain was still present, but more bearable as time kept its course. 

You had stopped frequenting the places you knew he liked for fear of running into him. The dessert shop, the cafe near the hospital, the night stands near the library. You even avoided getting sick so you wouldn't have to go to the hospital. Your life was limited to going to work and coming straight home, with occasional visits to buy groceries. 

You would never have thought that you would have to live a life again without Zayne and only because he didn't know how to separate his friendships from his romantic partner. So smart, but so stupid at the same time. 

You sighed, returning to the present and the food you were making; it was too late when you realized it, but unconsciously you were making one of his favorite dishes. You weren't going to waste the food, so you just carried on trying not to think much about it. 

“Now, where did I put–,” you stopped, surprised by the sudden knocking on your door. You frowned, you were not expecting anyone, but the knocking continued once more and you sighed, turned off the stove. “I'm coming.”

You regretted opening the door. Opening just a crack to see who it was, your heart fluttered in your chest as if there was a small caged bird inside it. Zayne was standing in front of you. He looked ridiculously tired, more than you'd ever seen him. The bags and dark circles under his eyes were deep, his skin did not look radiant and healthy as always and his eyes did not shine like emeralds. 

Your hands were sweating and your insides were churning. "Are you okay?" You asked with a broken voice. Zayne shook his head and he fainted, but with a gasp, you quickly wrapped an arm around his waist and tried to keep him upright. “Zayne! Hey, what's happening?” 

Zayne didn't answer you, and just leaned on you. Not knowing what to do, you dragged him inside and carefully guided him to your room. Once there, you laid him down on your bed, he looked weak. 

“Zayne? Can you hear me? Are you okay?” 

He mumbled your name and your heart raced. “I'm… I am sorry,” he said as he finally passed out. You gasped, but soon heard the soft snores you were so used to. 

Was he that exhausted? And what was he doing at your house? You frowned, fighting back the stinging sensation in your eyes as you tried to hold back some tears. He really always appeared to stir everything inside you. You had already accepted your life without him, but here he was. You sighed heavily, taking off Zayne's shoes and covering him with a blanket.

Your eyes couldn't help but admire him. Even though he was tired, he still looked as handsome as ever. It seemed like a dream, an illusion that would disappear at any moment. You wanted it to happen. You wanted him to disappear, but at the same time, you wanted to take him in your arms and kiss his face. But no, clearing your throat, you grabbed an extra blanket and left the room, closing the door behind you. It was better to let him rest so he could leave as soon as he got up. 

The next morning you woke up to soft steps. Sitting up and whining a little after sleeping on the couch, you saw Zayne coming out from your bedroom. His hair was messy and he was rubbing one of his eyes like a little child, something warm spread across your chest and a smile tried to spread your lips, but you stopped it. He seemed more rested, the bags under his eyes had diminished considerably and his skin looked a little more alive. 

“Zayne.”

He seemed a bit startled as he looked at you with slightly wide eyes. “Hello… I am sorry I fell asleep.” 

You hummed, folding the blanket. “Haven't you been sleeping well?" You didn't want to sound worried, but you were. 

“I haven't… I constantly have nightmares and I've been working over time… a lot more."

“Why?”

“Because I can't stop thinking about you,” he said and despair filled his eyes. “You have no idea how much I've missed you. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I have been working nonstop so I can have my mind occupied, but you're always there, in the back of my head.” 

Don't cry. Don't cry! 

“And what exactly do you want me to do about it, Zayne?” You said coldly, wanting to get over with this. 

Zayne approached you and you couldn't move as he took your hands. “Please, please. Give me another chance. I swear. I swear in my life that I do not have feelings for her. I just… I was just stupid and took you for granted. Please, my love, please.”

Tears began to well up in your eyes and you cried even harder as Zayne grabbed your face. "N-No, don't touch me.”

“Please. How can I show you I truly want you? Do you want me to stop talking to her? I'll do it. I'll do it, so please. Just… please. I can't live without you.” His words sounded sincere.

His eyes were glassy and the pain on his face was evident, but your heart still hurt. How did you know that he really wouldn't leave you as a second option anymore? You couldn't even tell him to stop talking to Miss Hunter, you knew this was just Zayne's fault. 

“Zayne… Zayne you're hurting me so much.”

“I know. I know I am and I am terribly sorry for this. I love you. I truly love you.” 

You also loved him, so much. 

“... If this ever happens again, Zayne… I won't forgive you another time. Remember that.”

His green eyes shone with happiness as he pulled you into a tight hug. You hugged him back, the tips of your fingers tingling as you felt his warmth, the tip of your nose digging into the crook of his neck, you breathed deeply, enjoying his scent. 

“You're on trial, Zayne.”

Zayne chuckled and he nodded. “Yes. You won't regret me, I promise you.”

RAFAYEL 🐠

Life was boring without him. He was the spark and the spice in your days. With him, every day seemed like a small adventure, but now that you no longer saw him, the days seemed dark and lifeless. You didn't even remember how much time had passed since that day. One week? Three days? Two months? You weren't sure and, honestly, you tried not to think about it too much because, even though you missed him, the pang of pain in your heart almost made you gasp for air every single time you recalled every moment with him. It was almost as if his bodyguard had also been there, on every date with Rafayel, for all of your conversations were about her. 

He was full of praise for her. He named each of her virtues and laughed affectionately at her defects. He didn't accept anyone claiming that they were better than her or stronger, because his precious bodyguard was the strongest and the bestest. Just thinking about it made you feel tears filling your eyes. You didn't want to remember any of it, but as you held your phone with your thumb hovering over the dial button, you couldn't stop thinking about how miserable Rafayel made you feel, even when he also made you feel like the most loved person in the world. 

When he didn't have his mouth full of his wonderful bodyguard, Rafayel showered you with affection. His kisses, his hugs, and his caresses all felt full of love and tenderness. His beautiful eyes looked at you sweetly, as if you were the most precious thing that ever existed on earth. He liked to tease you and make you laugh and he always said that you were like a muse for all his paintings: The sparkle in your eyes, the color of your hair, the texture of your skin, the curves of your body, everything was inspiration.

How could he be so cruel and loving all at the same time? Poor bodyguard, you even didn't like her although she hadn't done anything wrong, as far as you knew. 

Sighing, you finally tapped on the green button and your heart raced faster and faster at every beep coming from the other side of the line. Would he answer you? Was he… with her? Was he busy with one of his paintings? What if- 

His voice calling your name surprised you, making you jump. “I’m here! Hi!” he sounded out of breath and your cheeks blushed. “Hmm, h-how are you d-doing?” 

“Rafayel…,” you took a deep breath. “I… have some clothes at your place. Could I stop by later to get them?” 

“YES! I… I mean… yes. I'll- I'll be here all day. You can stop by at any time you want.”

“... Right. Then, see you there, Rafayel.” 

You let out a long sigh after hanging up. You had forgotten how wonderful his voice was and the way he pronounced your name. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach. You were going to see him, you were really going to come again, but you shouldn't be excited. What if he and his bodyguard were dating? The thought made your stomach twist and you decided it was best to leave immediately. The quicker you finish this, the better. 

As always, the door was open, but you didn't immediately enter, your hands were shaking and your heart was racing against your ribcage. You didn't want to see him.

Taking a deep breath, you gently pushed the door open and you were greeted with that aroma that you had missed so much. The smell of acrylic paint, the sea and Rafayel's scent. You couldn't help but take a long breath- this exquisite smell felt like home. Your eyes watered a little, but you tried to stay calm as you walked deeper into the spacious house.

“R-Rafayel? Are you here? "You heard a gasp from the room and in a second, Rafayel appeared in front of you. Ah, he looked as wonderful and beautiful as always. His gorgeous eyes were wide, looking you up and down as his mouth stretched into a shy smile. You wanted to hug him. “The door… was open so I just- I'm sorry.”

“No! That's okay! I… I left it open for you!” 

You nodded. “I see… do you mind if I just…”

“No, go ahead, please.” You excuse yourself as you made your way to his room, as you passed by him you felt your legs tremble and you gasped in surprise when he suddenly took your hand.

“Rafayel, what-

“Please, forgive me,” he begged, his eyebrows furrowed in a painful expression. “I was absolutely wrong, you were so right. I was stupid and careless and hurt you so badly.”

“Rafayel… I just came for my clothing, let me g-

“Please!” He hugged you and you went stiff. “Please, please,” he sobbed in your ear. 

“Are you crying?” 

He nodded. “I can't live another second without you. I can't paint anymore. I feel like a piece of me has been taken away, I live half and barely. I really, really do not have feelings for my bodyguard. You're the only one I can think about.”

“Then why- 

“I just… I was just stupid, I didn't mean anything to hurt you, I swear! When I said I missed her, what I wanted to say is that I wanted to train with her, I would never make you train, that's too dangerous,” he started to explain in a rush. “When I told you about the candies, it's because she gave me some amazing chocolate I wanted to gift you and then-

“Rafayel-

“Please. Just this once, I swear,” he said, finally showing his reddened face, tears streaming down his face. You gulped, reaching up to clean his tears away and he whined. “I wasn't there to wipe your tears, I am so sorry.” 

That made you burst into tears. That's right, you really wanted him to wipe your tears. He gently cupped your cheeks and his thumbs brushed against your cheeks, catching all of those tears falling from your pretty eyes. 

“You can break up with me if I do something like that again! But please… just this once. I love you so much. I really do.” 

You looked at him, His eyes were still wet and some tears were still falling down his cheeks. Maybe…

“Just this once, Rafayel… I won't forgive anything like this ever again.” He beamed and leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss, but you covered his mouth, frowning slightly. “I'm still mad at you.”

He blinked and gently smiled behind your hand before taking it in his. “Of course, I'll prove myself to you, beautiful creation.” 

XAVIER ⭐

You couldn't sleep. It's been two weeks since you last slept properly. Two weeks ago you were in Xavier's arms and he held you lovingly, whispering words of comfort in your ears. You weren't sure why, but being around Xavier always made you feel relaxed, a little sleepy, but never bored. You loved spending lazy times with him, taking naps and frolicking in bed, giggling like fools and giving each other soft, tender kisses. 

With his warmth and love it was not difficult to fall asleep at night, he always wanted to sleep so that tranquility that emanated from him was enough to relax you and make you sleep throughout the whole night. In the mornings you felt rejuvenated and full of life and seeing his sleepy smile was like living in a dream. 

You felt your bottom lip quiver into a pout. You missed him too much. You never thought he would behave that way. Had you never really been important to him? If he wanted to be with his partner so much, why had he even agreed to go out with you in the first place? 

“Agh! I hate you Xavier!” You cried, banging your fists against the table in your kitchen. “Why did you let me fall in love with you?” Maybe you really had gone crazy, talking to the table like that. 

There was no time for this. It was almost dark and you still needed to go buy some groceries for your dinner. You struggled out of your house, so tired and dragging your feet. You wanted to sleep... with Xavier. You wanted to feel his warmth. But... what if he now wrapped his partner in his arms? Your cheeks turned red and, trying to avoid thinking about it, you hurried to catch the bus. 

You found a seat near the door and next to a young man, there weren't as many people as you imagined and as the bus started to go you felt your eyes heavy. Maybe... you could sleep for a few minutes? The store wasn't far away, so just a few minutes... just a couple of minutes… 

You heard your name being called between clouds. From far away. Over and over and over. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. 

“Hmm?” You opened your eyes and gasped, How long had it been?! Where were you? And... why was your head...? Had you fallen asleep on someone's shoulder?! "Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" You said, raising your head only to find that the young man next to you... "Xavier?!" 

The hunter blinked, his eyes avoided yours for a second before looking directly at you and nodding a small greeting. Had he been there next to you the whole time? You could barely notice what was happening around you with how tired you were, but, strangely, you felt very good. It seemed like he really was the cure for all your ills. You chuckled softly, shaking your head. Xavier looked at you confused, tilting his head to the side like a little bird. 

“I'm sorry, Xavier. I didn't know you were there,” you jumped, “but wait, where are we?!” Checking outside the window, you could tell you were far away from the store now. 

“We're almost at my place,” he said gently and the alarms in your head set off. His partner... didn't she live in the apartment below?! Oh no. Before, you had no problem staying at Xavier's house, but... if they were really in a relationship…

“I gotta go,” you said, seeing the next bus station. It was already dark outside.

“Where are you going?” Xavier asked and you frowned.

“What do you mean? Back home. I only wanted to go to the store, but I fell asleep as you could see… Now it's even dark. Thankfully it's not raining,” you were babbling to yourself as you waited to arrive at the next stop, when you finally did, you got up. “Sorry about that, Xavier. Goodnight.” 

"Now... The next bus…," you mumbled checking the bus's schedule. "10 minutes? Lucky~"

“I'll go with you.” 

You couldn't help but squeal and jump when you heard his voice right behind you. Turning around, you saw him standing there, as tall as he was and as bright as the stars. 

“I'll take you home. It's dark. Something could happen.”

You rolled your eyes. "What could happen, I'm only going home.” 

“Some witnesses have seen wanderers in the area. I can't let you go alone." 

You sat on the bench, arms crossed, Xavier sitting next to you. "Ah, that's true. I'm not strong like your... Forget it." Your cheeks turned red. Very well! Keep opening your big mouth! Xavier didn't say anything, but you could feel his gaze on you and the blush on your cheeks traveled to the tips of your ears. 

Silence reigned between you. You could feel him, his warmth, he was so close to you, you could reach out and touch his knee. Your eyes felt heavy, you wanted to hug him. 

“I am sorry,” he suddenly said and you thought you imagined it but then he repeated it. “I am sorry for what I said the other day.” You turned to look at him and flinched when he saw his bright eyes looking sad and red. “I don't know what I was thinking. Talking like that in front of my girlfriend. Acting like I didn't want to have been there with you, but you're the only person I want close to me. I don't like nor have feelings for my coworker, I only want and need you.” 

He gently wiped a tear from your rosy cheek, his touch was electrifying. 

“You haven't been sleeping well.” You didn't answer, but he continued. “I haven't been able to sleep either. I keep recalling that day and seeing your crying face, I can't stand it… please forgive me.” 

He took your hands and you finally looked up at him, your eyes widening as you saw a small tear fall down his cheek. 

“I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I still beg you, I beg you to give me another chance. I promise I'll do better. Something like this will never happen again. I was an idiot." 

You frowned, “you were an idiot. Do you have any idea how you made me feel? It's hard to believe you love me.” 

He nodded, listening to you carefully. “I know it's hard to believe, but please let me prove it to you, let me show you how much I love you, please. I can't be without you anymore, my star. I need you, otherwise I'll go crazy. Please.” 

You sobbed and Xavier gently pulled you close to him. Wrapping you between his warm arms. You tried to pull away, but he didn't let you and soon you melted in his embrace, crying into his work clothes. 

“Please, give me another chance.” 

You nodded softly. Just one more chance. “There's not gonna be a second time,” you warned between sobs and he chuckled, kissing the top of your head. 

“I won't need them. I will treasure you as the most valuable thing that you are. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” 

[eightofpents]

alright i'm gonna talk about the letter apparently. i was just gonna write something petty to rot in my drafts but i've decided i actually wanna collect my thoughts here.

this got. too long. it's under the cut.

FIRST. The letter doesn't invalidate his choice in Re Creation. WHY would he give up the wish he is currently making with the expectation that Adrien Might make the wish he actually wants sometime in the future. He's not the brightest but he's not that dumb. It would be an absolutely nonsense decision to make.

For now I'm gonna assume Gabriel wrote the letter.

I think Intuition is probably when it would've happened. He's high key dying and Nathalie asks him to make arrangements for Adrien, and despite his general inability to envision his failure he Does ask Adrien about it. And in the letter he assumes Nathalie will still be there; as of Intuition they think she'll outlive him. So, arrangements: world's shittiest letter.

And he marks it as anachronistic and puts it in the box with Froggy. Which is in character. White!Gabriel constantly doles out affection to Adrien to manipulate him. Look at Froggy, remember we love each other, and then read this mind blowing letter. Then go beg Nathalie to help you stop being an orphan even though she'd given up on that.

The contents of the letter, for reference:

My son. If you're reading this letter, it means I'm with your mother. I sacrificed everything to save Emilie. Monarch was me. I did all I could to seize the miraculous of the ladybug and the black cat. With their powers, I could have brought your mother back. But I failed. It's your turn, now, to continue my mission. Don't worry. You'll have help. Nathalie will explain. You will seize the miraculous of that wretched Ladybug and her pathetic partner Cat Noir, and you will make the wish to bring your mother and me back. You will be perfect. I know these revelations will turn your life completely upside down. It was the case for your mother and me when we first found out about the miraculous. But we never regretted harnessing the peacock to-

The letter to me, largely sounds like Gabriel could've written it. He Would be petty about Chat Noir.

"My son." Gabriel calls Adrien that on relatively few occasions, but he considers it affectionate, and importantly, he does it in Both My-Son-Is-Chat timelines, and fairly frequently as white!Gabriel, specifically to manipulate him. We're off to a very Gabriel start.

I am curious about him calling her Emilie to Adrien. Not in a "That's not Gabriel*" way, just. It's weird to call your partner by their name to your kids right? Are they just reminding Us of her name?? (*not that he's ever done it before)

"But I failed." His inability to conceive of a world where he fails; you might consider this an issue of ego, stubbornness, whatever. I. Do not. When he says he can't live without Emilie in Re Creation, he fucking means it. He finally accepts her death and Immediately kills himself. He can't lose because the world can't go on without Emilie. So despite it being uncharacteristic to Make Arrangements (notably. he doesn't, like, find a caretaker for adrien. just this letter.), I'm not marking it against Gabriel writing the letter because the arrangements he's making are actually just to make sure Emilie comes back.

"It's your turn, now, to continue my mission. You'll have help. Nathalie will explain." It's not Nathalie will help. It's Nathalie will explain. You'll have help. From the cult. (Who notably refer to the diamond's "mission" at the end.) The point of this letter isn't to get Adrien to start hunting miraculous (on his own). It's to get Adrien into the cult. Which I'm sure Nathalie recognizes.

Perfect and revelation are both loaded words but I don't have any thoughts on em beyond that.

"But we never regretted harnessing the peacock" (A lie, but one I can appreciate.) This is what really gets me. He's going to tell Adrien he's a senti. Which doesn't make any sense for Gabriel to do. A deathbed confession about senti stuff? Yeah, Maybe. But if he plans on being back to deal with the consequences of Adrien knowing??? This isn't going to endear him to Adrien. I don't think it'll make him more likely to listen. All it'll do is fuck the boy up.

And as someone else (i do not recall who) pointed out, hiding the letter in the box when you're working with the very limited time frame of Nathalie's life from Gabriel's perspective as he's ostensibly writing this would be Exceptionally risky. Its been months, now that we're finding it. But if it was written after Gabriel's wish that's a moot point.

I legit went into this post without strong feelings on who wrote the letter but I've kinda fully convinced myself it wasn't Gabriel. (<says noted Gabriel Apologist. but I was managing that just fine when I thought he Did write it so.)

Anyway I'm officially putting my money on "written by the cult, for the cult."

[thirstkanaphan]

Some more thoughts about Youth

Here's Mingi singing Youth on BIBIM-POP (full ep here)

I love this version of Youth and Mingi has never sounded better. His tone is so good and he brings a mellow flavor to this performance that we don't see when he's on stage. I also love how deep his voice gets at the end.

I also really appreciate having the English translation because the lyrics are really quite insightful.

The line adults use the word youth to say that sadness is happiness / to enjoy the moment makes me suspect that Mingi was told by many adults in his life not to complain about his struggles...like, you're an idol, shouldn't you be thrilled? The way certain adults deny the pain young people feel and insist that this is the happiest time in their lives. Mingi asks of his Youth: Did you enjoy these times? Did the happiness outweigh the pain? Bear in mind, Mingi wrote this song when he was 22 and on hiatus. This is 22-year-old Mingi talking to his younger self, not the 25-year-old singing the song.

It's hard to even sleep, yeah

I wonder if the "yeah" isn't meant to be a lyrical punctuation to the line; instead, might we also think of it as a question mark: It's hard to even sleep, yeah? Mingi asks of his Youth, To make dreams a reality, yeah? and Youth responds: I'm too young, it's too hard right now.

We know Mingi's a fan of emo music from the '00s (my teenage years) and his playlists include Fall Out Boy, Simple Plan, The Killers, Green Day, and Linkin Park. This musical influence is more apparent in Tunnel, where he is especially candid and vulnerable in his lyrics, but Youth also frequents the same space. The lyrics are pure emo, even if the sound is smooth r&b.

What did I do wrong? With a drink, can it be shaken off? We don't know the answer and we never will, but this may be the first time I've ever heard reference to drinking in a kpop song. It's such a distressing sequence of lines, and you can't help but think of Mingi's hiatus and the strength it took to come back.

Then you exit that chorus to the sound of Yunho's voice soaring above the instrumental track. On this night, night when even the moon cries / Please find it, somewhere in my heart / Is there a place I can rest? It's such a devastating refrain, and he puts those words in Yunho's mouth.

The wind of my twenties / when I was alone

jeeeeeez what a line. The wind of my twenties / when I was alone is pure emo but it nudges at something deeper and more existential. Mingi is still in his twenties; he'll continue to be in his twenties for a while. The line implies future knowledge of the right-now Mingi. He's still going through it.

Of course I'm going to connect this back to Yungi, because the two got very (and perhaps uncomfortably) candid in their conversation for Off The Record. Yunho praises Mingi for his growth and development, but remarks that Mingi perhaps lost some of his youthful innocence.

Yunho says: I wish I could see more of that happiness from you

Mingi's response is so interesting: The thing is, it's not really innocence, I think I just adapted...I'm not the type to lean on others, because I only trust in myself.

Yunho wishes that Mingi could look back, reflect on yourself, and refresh. In a way, Yunho resembles the adults who use the word youth to say that sadness is happiness, to enjoy the moment. Yet when Yunho tells Mingi to live in the moment, it strikes a different chord.

Mingi says: I think I felt what kindness and thankfulness is from you.

He learned these things from Yunho, who took him to lunch and bought him beef in high school; who traveled across town to eat with Mingi and waited for him to finish his meal, who experienced the same highs and lows of pre-debut and idol life...

Yunho who called him nearly every day of his hiatus.

As in all things, Yunho is the exception. In his 8 Face episode, Mingi compares him to a "savior-like entity."

Yunho has been keeping an eye on Mingi since predebut. Here's a letter he wrote for Mingi which Mingi reads aloud during a live:

Look at Yunho, the way the embarrassed smile drops from his face.

Mingi owes Yunho his life, however you interpret that statement, and it means something that Yunho is someone from whom Mingi learned a kindness that got him through the worst of those months. It's for that reason that Mingi wrote Youth with Yunho in mind.

From an interview with Jongho published in December 2024:

I don't usually write this much but if you have any thoughts or opinions about Youth, I'd love to hear them!

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ kudos and enemies to lovers

type of post: fic characters: rook additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, this is ooc I just thought it was funny, rook writing rpf is morally questionable I KNOW. he's a freak author's note: the fanfiction site is made up

"completely ooc. vil would never say this"

Rook Hunt has been staring at the anonymous comment for hours.

He's come back to it five times, taking breaks only to rest his eyes when the harsh glare of the computer screen becomes too much.

It's not so uncommon for him to fall for so little; in just seven words, this anonymous hate had captured his full attention like a rabbit in a snare.

His gloved finger brushes over the enter key.

What to say? How could he possibly express himself in only a few hundred characters, in the comment section under a fanfiction of fifty thousand?

How he wishes they commented from an account... not only could he DM them, he may also have some idea of who they are. What sort of person would know Vil Schoenheit better than him?

No one. That's who.

"Dear Reader: I am sorry to hear you did not like my writing. However, I am inclined to believe I know Vil Schoenheit a modest amount better than you. Merci. -R"

Rook smiles. Eloquent, graceful, but firm. A gentleman like him would never start a fight.

Only finish it.

His curiosity finally put to rest, he responds to the other comments, thanking his usual commenters in detail.

When he scrolls back up to the top, there's something new:

"I sincerely doubt that. and fyi, you couldn't beg vil to be friends with neige"

Ohoho. Those are fighting words, he thinks. A smile creeps across Rook. Well, if it's a fight they want...

"Dear Reader: You doubt it? And how so? -R"

He refreshes the page again and again, hoping for an answer each time. This is the most stimulation he's had all week.

Now, who could this mysterious commentor be? A jealous fan, perhaps? A bitter critic?

Then:

"I was sitting next to him not two hours ago and he'd never say that"

Rook's smile widens. Of course. He should have guessed. The typing quirks, the misspelled words, even the voice in which each comment is written...

Now, he has you right where he wants you.

"Naughty naughty, Prefect. Does our Roi du Poison know you frequent the Vil Schoenheit x reader tag? or have you been keeping secrets again~?"

This time, he doesn't refresh. He knows you won't respond. Rook gets up from his desk and leaves his dorm, knowing just where to find you at this hour, and...

"Bonsoir, Trickster," he lets himself in your room.

As expected, there you are, looking beautifully flustered and vulnerable with your Crowley-approved phone in hand.

His smile sharpens. "Beautiful night, non?"

"I can explain,"

"Ah-ah," he tuts, sitting at the edge of your bed. "Do not be ashamed. I'm not a tattletale... not when I don't have to be."

His voice has a dangerous edge to it, and you give him a suspicious look. "What do you want?"

Rook lets the silence drag on, making you more and more impatient, more nervous, as if he were about to ask for something dangerous.

"Rescind your comments and leave a kudos on my work,"

You blink.

"...That's it?"

"Oui," he says. "...Unless you had something else in mind?"

You sigh. Now it's your turn to drag out the silence.

"...Let me edit your next fic,"

And, subsequently, it's Rook's turn to be surprised. He hadn't been expecting that. How... bold.

He smiles.

"...Ah... a tempting offer, I admit. I am working on something new. Perhaps we should discuss it over dinner?"

You think... and then: "I'm free Friday,"

"Then Friday it will be," Rook says, standing from your bed.

"Until then, mon petit critique~"

[legendofmorons]

Written in the stars (forever on loop) chapter seven - so much for star dust

Pairing: Pre poly! Chain x reader, Wind & reader

Rating: T

Summary: While you spend some time examining everything that has come up since you fell out of the sky the boys face their own emotions, Epona throws a fit, and the pair that is Dark and Onyx scheme.

(Aka: reader breaks down, Legend is sad and has a shitty joke to cheer up Wars and Hyrule, Dink and dreader are in love and making problems, Wind proves a point, you soulmate with Twi and Wild so hard you have the same reaction about two different things, and some lady spills the "secret" that the chain has Feelings About you)

Warnings: cursing, grief, guilt, breakdowns

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know

Previous Masterlist Next

-------

Three days after the chain leaves, you find yourself fairing about as well as you can hope. With your inexplicable ability to read hylian, you're able to read the odd jobs papers on the town bulletin board, and you earn some rupees through that.

Spooky seems inclined to hang around you, following you through the market or the town. They even tried to follow you into the inn!

(That didn't work. The inn keeper wasn't a fan. Spooky did, however, find your room window and sleep under it.)

The good news is you get great prices when shopping with a panther at your side! Also, creeps stay further away, which is definitely a bonus.

You are fairly confident Spooky has adopted you. Because they've brought you a few birds and also like to nap across your legs. So... yeah.

But you aren't complaining. They're self-sufficient enough to hunt their own food, and you don't have to clean a panther litter box.

Researching at the library dosen’t turn up any new information on the soulmate thing. This isn't a surprise but a disappointment.

The dreams have been getting more vivid, and the only hint you've found there was in a book called 'The Magic of Dreams', but that book was poorly written and had no sources. The book claims that dreams that frequent and vivid that truly feel like memories are often from 'past lives'.

Which is ridiculous because you live on Earth, not in Hyrule. How could your past lives be in a different universe?

What are you, Hylia's favorite character or something? Are you an anime protagonist?

The biggest concern for you right now is just trying to get used to this new way of life. It's strange to be in a place where there's no light pollution, no public transport, no cameras everywhere, and no headphones.

Today, you find your afternoon spent helping a heavily pregnant woman with her laundry. Washing it in the river before wringing it our and hanging it to dry.

Her son runs around to the side with Spooky, though she has the sense to look over frequently.

"May I ask about your... panther?" The woman - Alice - asks you.

You hum, rinsing out a tunic. "Spooky is sweet. They just came up to me a few days ago. I'm not sure why, though."

You wring the garment out before setting it on the rock beside you.

"How strange. You're sure they aren't dangerous?"

You smile, "Not to your son. But to birds? Maybe."

Alice gives a nervous giggle. "If you're sure."

"I am." You say.

And really, regardless of your personal views on children who would ever knowingly let a child so close to a bloodthirsty animal? You wouldn't.

"Where did the lovely young men you came with go off to?" Alice asks as she wrings out a blanket.

You ignore the immediate and strange urge to flinch at the reminder of the boys. "I'm not too sure. They have a quest they're on."

The words strike a strange resignment within you, as if this is something you've had to say many times. (You've never said it before that you recall.)

"I see. That's a shame they were lovely."

"They are," You manage to smile.

You both return to the laundry, allowing the silence to linger in a mostly comforting way.

There's a cool breeze, and the birds sing in the trees. It's nice here.

You would still like to get back to Earth, but there are much worse places to be.

You could be stuck in a zombie apocalypse or something else, not fun and even more dangerous.

You let yourself exist here for a moment, safe and in a world you've always longed to truly see.

The air is crisp, and the grass is sift where you touch it. The river rushes easily with little forms darting about the shallows.

Spooky brushes by you, rumbling happily as they bound away again.

"Do you think you'll see those men again?" Alice asks you.

There's an instinctive 'yes' that wells up in your throat, but you bite it back anyway. You can't know that for sure.

There is no guarantee of such things.

"I'm not sure."

"Do you want to?" She asks, giving you a little smile.

Again, the instinctive agreement is something you bite back. You settle on "I don't know..."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to poke if they've been rude."

You crack a half smile, "They're good guys... I think I just make them uncomfortable for the most part."

"Really? They kept staring at you like you hold the key to their hearts, and they think they've lost you," Alice muses as she wrings out a dress.

"I'm sorry, what?" You ask breathlessly and thoroughly caught off gaurd.

What is she talking about? Every time you catch them looking at you, they look sad, angry, calculating, or comcerningly polite. How is she saying they looked at you any other way?

Is she imagining things? Is she lying?

"Those boys couldn't keep their eyes off you, you'd look away, and they'd stare at you like they're lost." She laughs a little, sounding as if she believes herself.

"Oh..."

If that's the case, it is probably just because you're a sore reminder of their soulmate. That... explains a lot, actually.

Hopefully, Wind hasn't lost that soulmate yet and never will. That kid has already done so much.

As you and Alice finish the laundry, you find yourself facing the pile of things you keep putting off in your mind.

Once the laundry is done, you accept the two blue rupees with a 'thank you' before leading Spooky across the little foot bridge to go sit on the stone bench with the bird bath beside it.

The bench sits in a park area of sorts, but it's empty for now, so you will use it to let your mind process... everything.

First of all, you are in Hyrule! A place that less than two weeks ago was no more than a setting for a popular video game franchise!

You fell out of the sky! Miraculously didn't have a bunch of injuries from that, and you met nine different Links.

Who falls out of the sky (unharmed!) and meets nine different people from their favorite video game franchise?

You apparently...but you also have some sort of Disney princess thing going on because you have a panther that has picked you as it's person.

None of this makes sense. It feels a lot more like a fever dream than reality.

If you're going to be honest, it feels a lot more like a fanfiction written by someone who has a fixation on hurt / comfort media.

But...

It is real.

You can't place why, but you know that this is real against all logic.

Against all odds, this is reality.

How the fuck are you even here though?!

Why you?

Why now?

Who brought you here?

Why can you read everything? It's in a fictional language! Except... it isn't fictional.

If Hyrule is real... are all the other fictional worlds real too?

Okay- nope! You can't think about that right now.

One crisis at a time, two max. Your crisis docket is chock full today, we can try again tomorrow.

Fuck... Hyrule is real, you've met nine different Links, magic is real, and you have no idea what's going on.

Maybe this fits in with the multiverse theory. Your brain woukd like it to.

Okay...

Multiverse... We can say that's real here maybe? You are in the world of Zelda

But... there's also those dreams and half memories that have been taunting and confusing you to no end.

Those fucking dreams and half memories!

Oh!

You want answers for that!

Why in the name of literally any and every deity are you experiencing half memories and dreams of men who can barely stand you?!

Even as creative as your brain gets that dosen’t account for how vivid and achingly real they feel.

The way you hear their voices speak in your mind as if they hold you as the most important person to them... hurts.

It hurts a lot.

You want someone to love you the way they love you in your weird half memories. It would be wonderful!

But that's not reality.

Sure, you definitely had a crush on the Links growing up, you aren't the only one. You have always thought them good looking, strong, honorable, and maybe a little mischievous depending on the source material.

You can admit that the real deal is also crush worthy, but it's hard to feel that way when everyone keeps you at arm's length.

The dreams make it harder than anything though. Living through scenarios where you are romantically involved, even the bad dreams, make it hard to remember the truth when you wake up.

You swear Hyrule called you Honeybee when he healed you...

Legend called you Trinket when he gave you that potion...

What do those even mean?

What are you supposed to do?

All you want is to go find them.

There's a soul deep ache to be with them but you can't place why.

Are you horrible?

Is your brain making up strange dreams?

Or worse... are you somehow reliving memories of the soulmate they always lose? Have you somehow been cursed to do that?

Did you do something to make that happen?

Is it like a ghost situation?

You groan, putting your face in your hands.

"Fuck."

The sentiment isn't nearly strong enough, but you don't know what else you can say. (Double fuck?)

Spooky comes over and nudges your arm with their nose, making an inquisitive sound.

You look over and give a straining smile. "Hey, pumpkin... I don't suppose you know what's happening?"

Spooky dosen’t answer, but they do push your arms away so they can put their head on your knee.

They stare up at you with bright eyes.

You huff a little but scratch behind their ear. "I don't guess you could tell me anyway."

Spooky just purrs, leaning into your fingers.

You laugh a little, only half fragile.

Out of the corner of your eye, you swear you see a dark figure move, but when you turn your head to check, no one is there. How odd.

No stranger than the rest of your life lately, maybe it's that shadow that took on those lizafos for you? Which...

Honestly that experience is another thing you don't understand but you can't find the energy to spiral about it.

Maybe it was Four's shadow? Or is his shadow still dead?

Oh shit- the heroes are not only real people, but you played through their trauma like it was a game to entertain you! You know so much more about their lives than you should, and it feels sick.

Knowing what you know makes your skin crawl and your throat feel thick.

What will they even say if they ever find out?

Spooky nudges you again to get your attention. They seem to be trying to cheer you up, which is sweet.

"Thank you, pumpkin..."

-------

"Epona, I have had about enough of your sass," Twilight grits as he tries yet again to lead his mare to cross the bridge, pronouncing ever word in a slow, steady pace that is engineered so he can't possibly be misunderstood.

Epona stands firm, refusing to move for the seventh time. She gives him her best 'unimpressed horse' whinny.

Wind snorts, "Do you want a hand?"

"I doubt anyone could get her to move," Twilight manages before he grits his teeth again.

Wild sighs, "What's going on with her anyway?"

"She's been like this since we left town." Four muses, "Did she want more rest?"

"You broke her horsey heart making her leave (Y/n)," Wind rolls his eyes, "She's just upset."

"Sailor, if you know so much how about you get her across the bridge?" Twilight asks in the same slow and clear manner.

Wind, just snorts, holding his hand out for the reigns. "Maybe I will."

Twilight passes the youngest hero the reigns and crosses his arms. The rancher is willing to bet money that this fails.

After all, the kid grew up by the sea, horses aren't his specialty.

Wind takes the reigns before bending down and ripping some grass out of the ground. The teen offers the grass to Epona, roots and all.

Epona takes the grass and begins to chew it, seemingly accepting the bribe.

Wind starts walking, gently pulling at the reigns. "Come on, Epona. We're just going to cross the bridge okay?"

Epona chews her grass, not moving but not fighting either.

Twilight smirks.

"Come on, pretty girl. Help me prove rancher wrong." Wind coaxes gently before he clicks his tongue twice.

Epona does move this time, slow and obviously unhappy, but she moves.

Wind leads Epona across the bridge while Twilight clenches his jaw.

The rancher is facing the fact that his mare is apparently a traitor.

"That's a good girl," Wind praises, patting Epona's neck. "Good job, sweetheart."

The pirate is not above stealing the name you use for the horse, and it seems to please the mare so he won't stop anytime soon. He likes proving a point after all.

Legend snickers, "She must be mad at you, cowboy."

"Shut up," Twilight hisses.

Time snorts and Wild just laughs.

Sky pats Twilight's shoulder.

Four and Hyrule share a look, biting back smiles.

"All you did was bribe her, sailor," Twilight says as he crosses the bridge with Wild and Legend on his heels.

The rancher crosses his arms as he moves, only a little sore about being proven wrong.

Warriors, already across the bridge, laughs as he pets Epona. "You could have bribed her too."

"Shut it, city boy." Twilight huffs.

Wild - the traitor - laughs at that, snapping a picture on his slate.

There's a distinct sense of fear that crawls up the spine if every hero followed by a ground shaking roar.

"Fuck." Wild hisses, whipping around.

Twilight looks up and sees two gleeocks and promptly thinks 'fuck ain't enough of a sentiment'.

"Do we have to fight?" Wind groans.

Time shoots the pirate a deadpan look. "Yes, we do."

"That shadow is getting more vicious," Twilight draws lowly as he grips his sword hilt.

Wild and Legend both start sending arrows at the beasts and the fight commences.

Twilight dodges out of the way of lightning and hears an explosion in the sky. He supposes Wild found the bomb arrows.

Probably good.

But then black blood drips from the sky.

"Double fuck!" Wild hisses.

"Shiver me timbers!" Wind shrieks, choosing the moment to be obnoxious while not cursing becomes he's mad at Time.

Twilight takes a second to be grateful you aren't here for this before he knocks Legend out of the way and deflects a lightning ball with a wooden shield.

The fight descends into adrenaline fueled instincts.

The boys lose track of their own movements, they can't see keep track if others.

By the time it's over, they're all half dead and grateful for potions.

-------

Dark sighs heavily where he sits, crossing his arms as he glares at the wall from within the shadows.

"Are you seriously pouting right now?" Onyx chuckles as they look over from where they are currently rearranging your things to be easier to find.

They aren't doing that because they like you or anything, the chaos was just pissing them off.

"I do not pout, I am made of evil," Dark pouts harder.

Onyx snorts, "That is absolutely bullshit, viper. Knock it off."

"It is not bullshit."

"You know how I feel about being lied to," Onyx warns sweetly as they finish tidying your things.

They set the little seagull figurine in the back, unsure why you like it to much.

Dark gives a slow, heavy sigh. "It should not be so difficult to end nine lives. You understand that, don't you, darling lamb?"

Onyx rolls their eyes and turns to look their lover over. "Can't you focus on the challenge instead of a short term disappointment? Where's my vicious man?"

"My darling lamb, am I not allowed to be frustrated?"

"You can be frustrated, but you have a habit of wallowing in it." Onyx points out, awars of the way their lover gets.

"I do not wallow."

"Dark."

"I only wallow the acceptable amount."

Onyx gives a thoroughly unimpressed look.

Dark opens his arms, "I am mourning a great plan, I demand you comfort me."

They roll their eyes, but they go over anyway. They always will. They will always go to home when he asks.

Onyx collapses into Dark's arms carelessly, more than trusting that he will keep them both upright. It's his job anyway as the one demanding this.

They press their face against his chest, listening to his heart. "You'll get them next time, viper."

Dark pulls them close, one hand on the back of their thigh and the other on their shoulder. "I will eviscerate them."

"It was a good plan," Onyx says softly. "It would have taken one or two of them alone out."

"They're still alive."

"I know. But with (Y/n) out of the way you can attack without fear."

"That's true..."

"Why don't I make a plan? You need a break and I'm bored." Onyx muses, ideas already half spinning through their mind.

Dark grins sharper, half smitten and half cruel. "I do love your twisted mind."

Onyx hums, pressing a kiss to his throat. "You flatter me."

"I do not. I just adore your plans."

Onyx grins. "Good. I am amazing."

"You are. My darling lamb."

"What can we do about getting (Y/n) out of this time and somewhere else?"

"Whatever you want, I will make happen." He promises them easily, without thought or deceit.

-------

Legend sits away from the group but is careful to make sure he's close enough to Hyrule and Warriors to watch them after the disaster that the Gleeocks wrought. He is incredibly grateful that you are not with them right now, it means you are safe.

That's what matters anyway.

He misses you.

By the Golden Three, he misses you so much.

You are safe though, in a town with nice people and away from all the tense behaviors his brothers exhibit to you.

Legend could kick himself for letting his grief cloud his judgments and treating anyonethe way he was treating you before. It's only made worse knowing he took his grief for his soulmate... out on his soulmate.

He is such an asshole.

Fuck.

"I still don't understand why their magic has to be identical," Hyrule says to Warriors.

Legend swallows and turns his attention to the conversation between the traveler and the captain.

Warriors sighs, "Does it matter?"

"You don't get it. Their magic was a perfect copy. Magic is always unique to an individual. Even similar magic signatures have some variation."

Warriors rubs his temples. "Hyrule, you know as well as I do that the goddesses aren't that kind."

Hyrule sighs, rubbing his arm absently. "I guess..."

"You're looking for our soulmate, and you probably always will. I understand, I do it too, but you'll run yourself into the grave if you aren't careful," the captain warns with a heavy tone as he looks up to the stars.

Legend bites the inside of his cheek. It's just one more secret he holds, and it's to save his brothers the same grief he faces.

You don't even seem to know.

It takes everything he has to keep from spilling the truth. If he tells them, after the momentary joy, they too will have to know they lost you. Again.

Legend can't do that to them.

"Isn't there anything that (Y/n) did that made you think they were really our soulmate?" Hyrule asks with a weak voice as he stares into the fire.

Warriors lets out a bitter chuckle. "Almost everything. The day they saw the lizafos before we did? They shoved Wind behind them without a shield or sword to their name. It was a reflex."

"Oh."

"That's how I lost them, to an ambush... their reactions are identical, Rulie... But (Y/n) isn't Dove."

Hyrule looks to the captain with a look that is all but a shattering heart. "How do you know?"

"Because we aren't that lucky, and they've never said anything about knowing a Link."

Hyrule swallows hard, hugging himself tightly. "You're probably right..."

Legend sighs, shoving down the words that want to come out. He stands and walks to the traveler's side before he sits back down.

Warriors just raises a brow.

Legend wraps an arm around Hyrule's shoulders, pulling the other into his side.

Hyrule leans into Legend.

"Finally joining the fun?" Warriors challenges.

Legend scoffs, "You weren't having fun, pretty boy. You were having a wake."

The captain rolls his eyes. "Like you can be more cheerful."

Legend snorts, "Is that a challenge?"

"Yes."

"Fine. Knock knock."

Hyrule stifles a laugh, side eyeing his predecessor.

"You're fucking kidding me," Warriors huffs incredulously.

"I said 'knock knock'," Legend raises a brow.

The captain lets out a theatrical sigh, "Who's there?"

Legend gives a grin, "Boo."

"Boo who?" Warriors asks as he crosses his arms.

"Aw, don't cry pretty boy," Legend coos in a sarcastic tone, "It's just a joke."

Hyrule laughs, swatting at Legend playfully. "That was horrible! Jesus Christ, Ledge."

"How did you manage to be a prick through a knock knock joke?" Warriors asks, sounding rather impressed.

"I'm just that great," Legend smirks.

What he dosen’t tell them is that the joke is one he used on you back when you were kids whenever you were down. Back then, when you were both still children, the joke always got at least a little amusement from you.

He finds that as much as he avoids the joke because of the memory it holds... Legend dosen’t mind sharing it now with his brothers.

You would certainly approve.

"That was ridiculous," Warriors informs him.

Legend shrugs, "You just have bad taste."

"I do not!" Warriors scoffs.

Hyrule snickers, "You so do.'

Legend lets the two argue as they hop from topic to topic, taking pride in the fact he got them to stop poking an emotional wound that will never quite heal. He just wants to help them.

He just wants them to be okay.

He already failed Hyrule horribly just by not finishing Ganon for good...

Legend can't fail the traveler again.

He can't fail any of them.

You would be doing everything you can for them if you were aware, and so it's Legend's job to do so in your steed.

Hopefully you're okay in that town.

Maybe... maybe he could go visit? Just to check.

His Pegasus boots would make it easier.

No.

The best choice Legend can make is to let you go... so he will.

Legend will let you go, and he will stay away because that's what's best for you. That's what matters.

-------

Next

Taglist: @danyzta @vrsin @silver-the-pendejo @tulip-does-stuff @justanotherweeb666 @yourlocaltreesimp @blueberrysungie @victoryssong23 @shu-leepy @sleepifonlyigoti @sour-patch-delight @phlying-squirrel @pumpkincitrus

[justafairytailofinnocence]

Newt scammander x mermaid reader🧜‍♀️🌊🪄✨️

Newt scammander, a magizoologist, first caught sight of you within the bay of the forbidden forest.

You were the only species of mermaid that frequently surfaced. Seeking massive interest, he wanted to study you.

You were observed frequently sitting on the rocks, showing high levels of intelligence in communication.

Newt began to sketch your anatomy, the look of your tail and your appearance. Believing to have discovered a new species of mermaid that's never been seen before.

As you sat upon the rocks and your tail fin draping below, just touching the murky water. You heard a noise from behind. Upon seeing a mysterious reddish-brown haired man, wearing a light blue trenchcoat with a yellow and black scarf representing hufflepuff draped around his neck. you nearly freaked. You pushed from the rocks into the black lake's water.

Newt—not meaning to have frightened you—stepped forward. He was curious to know if you have high levels of adaptive communication, understanding English.

Your tail gently swam up and down toward the surface. Curious about whom that human was, it's not natural to see men out this far—nor have they ever seen you before.

Your head peeked above the surface. Your eyes curiously gazed at him, wondering if he had any sort of good or bad intention.

Newt muttered, "i-i'm s-sorry I didn't mean t-to disturb you—" unsure if you understood a word. "You're very exquisite, something I only wish to understand if you let me."

He has a gentle voice. Kind. Soft. You thought.

You were still unsure, but you raised yourself amongst the surface more. Exposing your neck and head, but enough to still keep your gills in the water. You felt the wind gently billow against your skin.

"Are you the only one of your kind? are you gregarious? Or are you solitary?" He asked.

You understood him, deciphering his dielect, thanks to the many witches and wizards speaking among the surface.

You held up your index finger saying "Just me."

Newt, impressed by you, took notes within his journal. "Just you? S-sounds rather isolating."

Your head bobbed within the waves as your tail gently swayed to maintain balance. "Do you have a name?" he asked.

"Y/n" you said simply.

"Y/n. Extraordinary." He smiled to himself. It seemed everything you did fascinated him.

"Mine i-is Newt." He smiled back, feeling a connection between you.

"Newt." You say back, your lips curving into a smile.

"I-i have to go now, but I'll come back." Newt said with a hint of disappointment.

The weird reddish-brunette man carrying a journal left. Oddly, you were fond of him. This was the first time anyone had tried to communicate to you.

Over the next few days, the odd man came back exactly in the afternoon. You sat upon the same rock smiling at him. Often, he would bring food, fish, crustacean, and squid—sometimes kelp, but you weren't highly fussed on that.

Newt would speak to you of the surface world, fascinating you even more. You find it odd that many wore clothes, let alone how they were living in huge stone like rocks—meaning houses to him—. You didn't understand how they walked, how they ate, and how they flew on magical sticks.

Newt eventually offered you a safe place where he could study you further, inside his bag? Though that was only an illusion, inside, there was a whole sanctuary with different creatures. You were hesitant at first but the idea appalled to you.

Newt and you formed an unlikely bond, as he routinely brung you food in return to study you further.

One day, along the shores of the black Lake. He spotted a woman faced down within the sand. Newt worried came to your side, realising it was you but with legs?! As to how this happened was a mystery.

He took you in quickly as bunty, a kind lady who assisted newt, helped aid you. When you awoke, you were rather freaked, as this was not your usual environment. When you looked down, you saw legs!

You stood up from the bed, trying to walk but finding it rather difficult. Newt reassured you and helped teach you how to walk.

For the past week you spent on land, you had learned a lot. Learning of the surface dwellers culture and tradition.

However, knowing this wouldn't last, you bid farewell to Newt diving back beneath the waves of the black lake returning to your mer form.

From then on, Newt would visit you occasionally to check in on you. You were the first of a kind. A rare species to uncover. The first to be discovered and founded.

[midnightcrw]

Provocative

Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader

Summary: Lucifer visits the Hazbin Hotel because his daughter called him, but there he sees a good friend he hasn't seen in a long time.

Warnings: Swearing

a/n: I know it's been a long time, but I just couldn't get myself to write anything because of my finals coming up and everything else going on. I also didn't want to write a bad third part, so I only wanted to write when I had some motivation to do so. I hope you all will like it. Part 1 / Part 2

If you had known that one day you would see Mimzy again, you would have been the most holy person in your mortal days, and unfortunately, you weren't.

And as soon as everyone in the hotel registered the short woman's appearance, Lucifer dropped his grip on your hand, looking almost fearfully at your expression, which probably said more than a thousand words.

"Why is everybody gawking? Is it cuz I'm adorable?" The woman playfully said while posing as you gritted your teeth.

And not even a second later, Alastor immediately stopped holding your hand, "Mimzy!" The happiness was more than obvious in his tone.

"Alastor, sweetie, doll face!" In your mind you were already imagining how you could break every bone in her body. "How have you been? Good? Good," she said as she put her arms around your husband.

They even squeezed each other as they made contented sounds. "You good?" Lucifer whispered in your ear as you could almost feel your eye twitch.

"Splendid," you murmured back as the Ruler of Hell continued to look at you uncertainly, but your eyes never left the pair.

"I heard you were staying at this ritzy slob factory and I figured I'd stop by, say hi! For old times sake" you hated the way she talked about Charlie's hotel as the blonde walked even closer to Alastor, if that was even possible.

"Of course, Sweetheart! Everyone is welcome here" the enthusiasm still didn't leave your husband's voice as you balled your fists tightly.

"'Everyone is welcome' my ass," Lucifer muttered hatefully, squinting his eyes at the man dressed in red.

When Charlie asked how they knew each other, you tried to hold back as best you could, you knew what was coming.

And the moment Mimzy heard the question, an even bigger smile appeared on her face "Oh yeah. We go way back."

A little too far back, you thought.

"You know, this one used to frequent the club where I used to perform. He's the only one I knew who could pound whiskey like a sailor and then keep up with me on the dance floor," her theatrics continued as she did a little dance and received a compliment from Alastor.

"Ho ho, you should have seen her in her heyday," oh, how you wished you hadn't seen her then.

You remembered everything perfectly. Mimzy and Alastor knew each other before you married him, and you met her through him.

Alastor was always a huge fan of music, especially the music that was played at the club where Mimzy used to work. And one day he had had taken you out on a date. Of course you were excited at first, you had never been to that club before, you were expecting something spectacular since your husband was always talking about it.

And oh, how spectacular it was, Mimzy practically throwing herself at your husband like it was nothing. Now, you really weren't a jealous person, but the short woman brought out the worst in you.

At first you really tried to like her, but with every backhanded compliment, you began to truly despise her more and more.

It was obvious that she had a crush on Alastor, and that crush probably never really went away, or she just wanted to get you mad by sticking to him like glue.

"Oh, oh, my stars," she made her way to Lucifer as soon as she saw him, and you immediately made your way to Alastor while she was distracted.

"You never told me she was here," you said in a snippy tone as you approached him until you and him were face to face, just with you having to look up due to his height.

"My sweet, of course Mimzy would be in hell," he only said as he looked at the chubby woman who was currently engrossed in a conversation Lucifer had no interest in.

Before you could snap at him, the annoying voice was heard once more, "No way!" Mimzy shouted loudly as she made her way towards you, deliberately swaying her hips.

And before you could prepare, the short woman hugged you tightly as she stood on her tiptoes to lean closer to you, "Still the jealous little wench, I see," she snickered as you bit your tongue.

"Ah, just like old days," Alastor's smile still remained on his face as he looked at the two of you, obviously not having heard what his friend had just said to you.

I'll show you the old days, you thought when Mimzy finally let go of you. And then you all remembered that the tour of the hotel had to continue.

"Why don't you let the others help you settle in and I'll be back before you know it," your husband said to Mimzy as he took your hand and led you to Charlie and her dad.

"Behave," Alastor whispered in your ear as his static returned and you could only scoff.

"I'm the one who should behave?! Look at you!" You whispered back, even digging your nails into the hand that was currently holding yours.

And while the tension between the two of you didn't go away, Mimzy already started talking to the others at the bar.

"How ya been, fur-ball?" She asked as she leaned her elbows against the bar, holding her face up with her hands.

"Good until five minutes ago" Husk wasn't happy about the whole situation, just like you, and it was obvious, and clearly ignoring his mood, she turned around to ask what Niffty has been up to.

"I never understood why you liked her so much," you said, keeping the frown on your face as Alastor let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around your waist while Lucifer glared at him as Charlie showed him around.

"Jealous, aren't you?" He asked with his piercing smile, having already expected this reaction from you.

"She's the last person I would be jealous of," you snapped back, but in reality you knew she was everything you were ever jealous of.

Not only was she popular, but she was beautiful and confident. All the things you couldn't see for yourself.

Suddenly, Alastor laughed, even softly, I might add, as his hand rubbed your hip, "As it should be, you have nothing to be jealous of, love," your eyes widened.

He has never called you "love" before, unless it was to get attention or to make your marriage more believable decades ago.

"Uh-huh... Thanks, pussy cat!" Mimzy said as she drank from the glass.

"Oh, fuck you" was the only thing Husk replied with as he walked away while Angel Dust made his way to the bar.

"So uh, you and Alastor are like what? Friends?"

A grin made its way across her face, "Well, that's your word, not mine, but I think it fits," Angel Dust didn't seem too convinced as he sipped from his glass, which didn't seem to make Mimzy too happy.

"Why so surprised?" She grunted as Angel Dust responded with "Well, just didn't know he had any of those. He's been here a while and is still a big, creepy mystery. I really don't know how his his wife handles him. What even is his deal?"

At the mention of you, her face fell for a split second, but she regained her composure as she began to tell them about when Alastor revealed himself as the Radio Demon.

"But underneath is all... he's a total sweetie. Put on some jazz and pour a couple fingers of rye, and he becomes a kitten!"

Sir Pentious and Angel Dust looked at her in shock, since that part didn't sound like the Overlord they knew.

And once the tour was over and they made their way back to the bar.

"There you all are! I was starting to get real bored here," Mimzy's voice was slowly starting to make you mad once more.

"Finally," Husk grunted as he wiped the glass in his hands clean while Mimzy continued to talk.

"I bet she was the reason it took so long," obviously referring to you as she glared, "Nothing's been the same since the marriage," the short woman ranted, while you rolled your eyes at her as you suddenly felt Alastor's hand graze your back.

Looking up at him, his eyes were a fraction softer for once, as you couldn't look away.

"Since the marriage?" Lucifer asked, clearly confused as to what was being discussed.

"Their marriage, of course," Mimzy said with disgust in her voice as she nodded towards you and Alastor.

"You're married?!" Lucifer yelled as you flinched at the sudden loudness, while Alastor rubbed your arm in reassurance.

Fuck... you thought.

Taglist

@l0ca1ax010t1

@itsmskeisha

@nightlydream

@randomuser-89

@explosionkatsu

@nonetheartist

@anuttellaa

@angelxx7

@karolinda007-blog

@fairyv-ice

@chewbrry

@cryptidghostgirl

@harmfulb1tch

@crowleysthings

@fandomfan-102

@readergirlstuff

@wendds

@lucifers-silhouette

@droopingdatura

[youaremy-parkfilter]

Something about ' you're my park filter '

I'm so random lol...my mind just went like that and Yes!

'you're my park filter' i mean this

211013 cutey sexy lovely jimin's bday. Like every others he also went live on his bday. Little boy felt little awkward since it was a long time after his life. He talked a lot...but still something was off. Like a life line option, he called jungkook to join him on his bday live. Within a fraction of time he joined too, wished him many times, even pretend to bring the cake ... the frequent hand shakes (i have no counts lol)

And when you notice, they talked like everything on the earth from him mom's kimchi to his new hairstyle-my poor boy accidentally spilled.

Then our president hobi enters, boom we got a shy jiminie there. Teases over teases..I wish I could see their faces . Only because of hobi, we got to know who prepared that cake ? Who prepared that creative caption on that cake? Hello Mr.jeon you even took that cake in your hand when you entered the studio before, did you even care to ask 'hey how is the cake, did you like it' and so on ?? No . When only jhope was curious about the lines, jungkook was fast to convey the message of that line thats jimin's birthday and jimin's solo song filter and he combined it. Thats when jimin came to know it was from jungkook. Such a warm moment imo🥹

Are words the only thing in a relationship which can convey love? What if actions can speak more than words? What if actions can bring so much warmth?

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

People are so stubborn that he didn't say this at jimin's face,that at jimin's face. People really need words !? More than 10 years and he have showed us more than enough that he care a lot about jimin. Even from their debut era, when the requirements where so not acceptable by him, he did it for the sake of doing it . That to push jimin away for fun, to make fun of him. From jimin's words we already know that jungkook used to say sorry for all these during night while the other pretend to sleep so he could listen. You think jungkook don't care ? He didn't care ? He won't care ? No, thats not the case. He is a pure soul, was a shy baby even to make eye contact with army from the beginning. As they grew up, he was inspired to be a dancer rather than a singer. He decided on that. They have discussed how jimin was shocked when he heard about this and how he wanted jungkook to be a singer, as an important member in their group like everyone. You think jungkook will never care about that person who stood always by his side day or night, ups or downs, happiness or sadness. You think Jungkook is some kind of ungreatful brat? That might be in your delulu fanfiction. In reality (what they have shown us, real reality is unknown to fans ) he seems very kind, generous, soft and care every other person. Too polite, a gentleman! So what made you think that jungkook never care about jimin ? Just tell me one reason why ? Just one !?

Keep the 'ship' aside. I never use that term to disrespect their bond. Never !

Now just think, when you say that jungkook never care about jimin, aren't you indirectly pointing out that he is a brat? An arrogant? The doe eyed boy which carry a galaxy in his eyes, who grew infront of ARMY, who claimed he loves ARMY the more - is arrogant? Is he faking?? How can you even bring this up ?? How can you ever think like that??

Whats your problem when it comes to jimin and jungkook? Why can't you digest the fact that they click each other easily. Just why ? Will it affect the rotation of earth?? Will it cause global warming 2 times more ? Just why CAN'T YOU accept the FACT ??

I want this fandom normalise jikook like every other duo ! No freaking ship !! Their bond should be respected! Their love should be valued ...

♡

i don't know how I reached this far, just talking about them and how fandom treats them fumes me like anything hahaha..

So.... My park filter, yeah ! You both deserve all the happiness and love. Keep going my loves

[interestingplan]

*•.¸♡ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ♡¸.•* 🌿

ᴶᵒᵉˡ ᴹⁱˡˡᵉʳ ˣ ᴿᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ 🌿

warnings - 18+ smut, thigh riding, reader has anxiety and nightmares, soft! joel, fluff, season 1 joel, no ellie, emotional, age gap (reader in mid 20s), pre established relationship,

↫↫↫↫↫ ˢᵘᵐᵐᵃʳʸ ↬↬↬↬↬

while trying to sleep, nightmares have been plaguing your dreams. trying to calm yourself down, you find yourself going to joel for help.

────୨ৎ────

Trying to get yourself to sleep has become an absolute impossible task. It has gotten to the point in which you don't even want to sleep at all. Finding yourself tossing and turning in your sleeping bag almost every night with little to no sleep. Since the world has changed, you've changed and it hasn't helped. Living in constant fear of endangerment has made your nervous system maxed out. Anxiety gripping and straining your lungs, making your words feel unsure and hesitant. You've always had bad anxiety and now with the way the world was, it wasn't helping. However one person has helped you unintentionally, it was Joel.

Joel found you a while back when things first started to get bad. He found you screaming for your life before saving you. Now both of you have been trying to navigate this world together as Joel tries to find his brother. You've always been so thankful for Joel, he practically saved you. He's made you feel more safe and secure in this new unsteady world, which has helped you immensely. Even with him being with you, it didn't help that your feelings felt strongly for Joel. You would get mad at yourself at times for finding him attractive, hell he was handsome for his age. But it made you feel torn, he was much older than you and it felt impossible. Sometimes you would hold his gaze for a little longer, or even wanting to feel the touch of his hands. But those things felt impossible and out of reach for you. You didn't want to ruin something that you already had with him. Plus, you also didn't want to worsen your anxiety if you did loose him.

The night air was cool and bitter, stinging at your skin. Joel had found a spot just beyond a forest to setup camp for the night. You already dreaded the anticipation of trying to sleep as you knew you wouldn't be able to. While walking over to the small area, Joel settles his pack down. You do the same and start to retrieve some of the items from your bag, including your sleeping bag.

"M' grab some wood over there." Joel says with his southern drawl.

You nod as you continue to unpack your things from your bag.

Joel comes back and starts to set up the fire, trying to keep you both warm for the night. You sit on a small log right beside him as he finally gets the fire going.

"There we go. M'uch better than sitting here freezing our asses off." Joel retorts

You exhale with a sigh and shake your head slightly, resting your head on the palms of your hands. Joel notices your contempt's and tries to look into your eyes, as you stare into the fire.

"Is everything okay darlin'?"

You look back over at Joel to see him trying to hold your gaze. Nodding lightly, you look back into the fire.

"Yeah.. just sleeps been a big issue lately." you retort

"Hell, I know how that feels." Joel snickers

Joel looks at you once again seeing that there's something much more than just the issue of sleep on your mind. You look back at him and look into his dark brown eyes, seeing a hint of warmth in his lingering gaze. Joel's facial expressions soften at the way you where looking back at him. He turns back quickly to look into the hearth of the fire.

"Is there somethin' else" Joel asks

Looking back into the fire along with Joel, you sigh for a moment before speaking about your troubling dreams.

"Well yeah, I've been having more frequent nightmares than beforehand and I'm not sure why.." you state while still looking into the burning fire.

Joel looks back at you once again trying to find your eyes. His face worried with concern. Some days Joel could see the tiredness in your gaze, but you never mentioned it until now. Your eyes would appear more dark and sunken at times, along with frequent yawns. He could see how tired you would get at times which is why he would always try to take first watch if possible to let you sleep. But this time was different, he could see the pure sleepiness on your face and it wasn't hiding. Joel began to fiddle with his fingers thinking of something or someway to help you calm your sleep terrors. He turns away back at the fire once more.

"M'aybe if we put our sleeping bags closer together. I know I usually put mine far away but, we can put them closer if ya wish" Joel retorts

You look back at him for a second a bit taken aback by his statement. You felt surprised by his offer of moving his sleeping bag closer to yours. Joel would always keep his things farther away from yours making sure to give you space. You had no idea how much Joel did deeply care about you especially after saving your life. Joel would always try to do small things for you but never wanted to invade your space as he didn't want to cross any lines with you because of his emotions. But deep down, Joel really did care and love you. It was hard for him to express this as he was unsure of your feelings for him. But sometimes you would notice him staring at you for a little longer or the way you two would walk besides each other.

You smiled softly at Joel's offer and nod at his question.

"That's fine by me Joel."

────୨ৎ────

The air had finally gotten cooler as night time finally was here. Joel had moved his sleeping bag much more closer to yours, very close in fact. Joel started to get into his sleeping bag as you tried to settle yourself down and get comfortable for the night. Rolling over you look at him as he was looking back at you, his eyes looked hazy and sleepy.

"G'night darlin" Joel's southern drawl hangs before falling asleep

"Goodnight Joel" you say sleepily

You do admit, it feels much more safer having Joel sleeping much more closely by your side. With his safety you finally found yourself falling asleep.

Running through the main streets of your old city, you felt your breath leaving your body. Unsure of where to hide and go, feeling yourself trapped in a box. You run into one of the small gas stations near your former house closing the door behind you just before a clicker got inside. Racing to the back of the store, you where halted by the clicker slamming your body to the floor. Trying to fight off the clicker your body starts to tremble as you cry and scream for your life.

You wake up with a sudden jolt as your breath became very erratic. Putting your hand over your heart you tried to calm yourself down from the nightmare you just experience. Even just trying to get one night's rest has been an absolute problem and you just didn't want to deal with it anymore. Feeling yourself becoming a bit more steady, you start to well up with tears. Joel hears your tears and breathing as he wakes up suddenly and hears your cries. He get's up and out of his sleeping bag and goes over to yours.

"Hey hey.. darlin' what's wrong?" Joel coos

You take a second to calm yourself down trying to catch your shaky breaths.

"Another nightmare..." you replied back shaky

Joel looks at you with a tender expression, trying to think of something to help. He thinks of an idea but is unsure of your response.

"Do you want me to stay in the sleeping bag with you?" Joel asks his expression still soft and tender.

At this point, you just needed something to take your mind off of your dreams and help you sleep. You nod at Joel's response as you move over to let him get into your sleeping bag. Joel get's in and immediately settles you down by taking you into his arms. Both of you lying down in the sleeping bag together. Joel wraps his arms around you holding you close to his chest. You embrace his warmness, the sent of pine and oak radiating from him. Joel rubs his arms up and down your back holding you closely to him trying to ease the fever dream.

"S' gonna be alright" Joel says softly.

In that moment, you felt so safe and so sound underneath his arms. You didn't want to admit but you really liked Joel holding you like this. You began to feel your heart racing, that nervous feeling coming back to you. Joel looks down at you, trying to find your eyes. Joel was trying so hard not wanting to do more for you in that moment. He could feel your nervousness and tense feelings after having that dream, he wanted to do so much more for you. Looking up at him, you finally catch his gaze as you two both stared intensely into eachothers eyes. Joel was still holding you close, moving his hands down to your hips tenderly. You unconsciously moved your head a little bit closer to his almost as if you where grazing his lips. Joel noticed this and moved his head closer to yours. In this moment, you two where just inches from each other's lips. There was so much hesitation found in Joel, he didn't know what to do in that moment. Your breath was starting to hitch, feeling his hands over your hips tenderly grazing over them. Joel moved one hand to gently cup your cheek, as he reaches in to kiss you gently.

After so much hesitation, Joel finally kissed you in that moment. You felt a bit surprised but leaned into his lips embracing the tender touch. Joel continued to kiss you gently as you moved your hands to his chest. Joels grib became a bit tighter on your hips moving you even closer to him. At this point you where practically straddling his right thigh while you wrapped your left leg around his waist. Joel pulls away from the kiss for a brief moment.

"Darlin.. what do you need from me right now..?" Joel asks softly.

You where already straddling his right thigh while both of you where entangled in the tight sleeping bag. The space starting to become a bit claustrophobic for you. Staring at him gently, there was a little hint of darkness in his eyes. But tenderness still resided in his gaze towards you. You look away for a moment before being pulled back into his gaze. You've always had some fantasies about being with Joel like this, although nothing really super intimate as this.

"I think.. I want to sit up for a moment.." you say

Joel looks a bit confused as he readjusts himself to sit up in the tight setting. You sit yourself up as well as you find his gaze once again. Readjusting yourself, you climb ontop of his lap straddling his right thigh once again. Joel looked down briefly then realized what it was that you wanted. He moved his hands towards your waist, pulling you more towards his embrace. Looking up at the way you where straddling him, he started to feel hard. He didn't want to cross any lines with you previously, but you clearly felt a certain way about him that he couldn't help. Joel got closer to your face and whispered very softly and tenderly.

"You wanna' ride my thigh?" Joel asked his gaze darker than before

You felt yourself heat up even more than before as you didn't know what to say to his words. Not saying a word you nod as you began to slowly grind into his right thigh. You had to readjust yourself, trying to find that right spot that felt good. Joel held you closer to him, his right hand holding your back. His left hand holding onto your hip helping you steadily. You began to grind into his tigh, feeling a wave of pleasure surge though you. Feeling the pleasure you began to moan and mumble under his touch. Joel was holding you so tightly and closely that it turned you on even more. Joel never left your gaze, still looking into your eyes as he began to groan himself. Joel started to place gentle kisses down your neck, as he assisted with your grinding. Joel readjusted his thigh helping you to grind even deeper into him and his touch. You held onto his shoulders trying to steady yourself from the pleasure. Your moans began to get a little bit louder with each grind hitting that spot that sends waves of pleasure through your system. In that moment, the world didn't exist besides Joel and you together. Joel started to whisper sweet nothings into your ear, sending more feelings into your heart.

"Your doing so well darlin', keeping grinding into me just like that" Joel groans into your ear

Your pace became a bit faster as your breath hitched more and more. Joels embrace still making you feel safe and secure in his arms. Joel helped you a little more as he readjusted his thigh again helping you to deepen the pleasure. Joels moans became louder along with your's. You feel your high coming to a climax as you knew you where going to cum. Joel looks deeply into your eyes again as he kisses you once again, this time more passionately.

"Cum for me sweetheart'" Joel said breathy

You finally came as you felt yourself pooling in pleasure. Resting your head on his shoulder as he held onto you and let you settle down from your high. He pulled back to look at your face as you looked back into his eyes.

"Thank you Joel.. for always keeping me safe.." you say softly to him

"I just wanna be gentle with you.. take care of you.. love you.." Joel confesses to you.

Joel brings you back down into the sleeping bag as he wraps his arms around you. Keeping you close to his embrace, you felt his security and warmness become a fabric of your being. Finally after having that horrible dream, you fell gently into the arms of someone who wanted to keep you safe. That man was Joel Miller.

[iwoulddieforher]

Rigid | Casey Novak × Alex Cabot

Author's Note: This got super out of hand with the length- I think this is the longest fanfiction I've ever written. Hope you enjoy it, though <3 ~16k+ words

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff. I like the idea of Alex being neurodivergent in some way, even if she doesn't know it herself, so some of her self-descriptions will come off that way.

Summary: Alex wants desperately to be able to relax like she sees her colleagues doing, and a night watching a coworker she has her eye on- Casey Novak- might present itself as the opportunity to get what she wants.

Porcelain dolls strung up by small transparent strings were significantly less rigid than Alex Cabot currently felt. How she usually felt, even.

High-class family, posh preparatory school, strategically made connections rather than real relationships were all she grew up knowing. Everything had a meaning, a purpose, a reason for why it was so, and that also applied to every detail of her appearance and demeanor must similarly be intentional. She grew up internalizing that, and thus, as an adult she utterly lacked the ability to let her spine curve into a natural slump, to lay in bed without wondering what it would look like to a non-existent observer, to kiss someone in a way that focused on the intimacy rather than the shifted facade that she displayed in order to appear desirable.

It felt inhuman. She really hated it. The feeling she coped with daily made her skin crawl as if it was begging to be torn off to reveal a real person behind it instead of the ever-complicating mask.

It was especially noticeable to her on days like these, where a high-profile case had just been absolutely devoured by her colleague, Casey Novak, so the squad room was positively thrumming with excitement and a collective sense of triumph. Olivia, the one Alex had made a habit of perching herself by, was currently at the corner store to pick up a bottle of something to share, so the attorney was standing almost aimlessly against the brunette detective's desk. Across the desk was Stabler, in his respective chair, looking up at Casey who had chosen to place herself on the edge of his desk. Munch was in his rolly-chair, with Tutuola leaning over the back of it, Cragen standing stiffly but not uncomfortably near the commotion like a proud father.

"And that absolutely little weasel of a man-" Casey chirps, as much as a voice as low as hers could sound like a chirp, interrupted by a bark of laughter from Stabler, "Sorry, that boot-licking short ass bottom-feeding rodent-"

"Casey!" Stabler admonished, although his eyes were shining with amusement, and the faux blonde woman laughed and swatted at him half-heartedly.

"Yes, okay, I'll mind my manners. The defense counselor, before the trial, told me that because I'm pretty if I want after the duration of court he'll give me some tips on improving- and now I won, and when he was walking out, I managed to shoot him a smile and say 'if you want any tips, just call Novak at the DA's office'- I thought he was going to deck me right there-"

Casey's storytelling is rewarded with a roar of laughter from the men, her face shining with victory and the aftereffects of a battle well fought, and Alex can't help but find her beautiful. Casey Novak was anything but rigid, and Alex wished she was more like that- even if Casey's temper did get her in trouble more frequently than one would wish.

"Okay, well, don't let your victory get you all haughty, I'm still going to kick your ass tonight." Stabler snorts, after the laughter had died down, which sends Casey into a refreshed cascade of giggles.

"You? Kick my ass? Oh, you wish."

"Wait," Alex cuts in, everyone's eyes flickering to her as if they were slightly off guard that she was still following the conversation, "what's this about kicking each other's asses?"

"I'm going to hand Stabler his balls on the softball field tonight-" Casey starts before Stabler swings at her playfully and she gets distracted by shooting him a playful warning look. Alex forgot how much they acted like siblings sometimes, but the way they seemed to bounce off each other and banter so smoothly made them seem like twins. She could very easily imagine them in early teens kicking each other under a dining room table.

"Recently we've all started getting together to play softball together," Stabler interjects, granting Alex a serious response, "after big cases on the weekends we get together with some other cops and some other lawyers at night. Good way to blow off steam if justice isn't served or good way to celebrate if we do."

“It used to be a big thing, there were inter-department tournaments at the DA’s office or whatever, but now us who liked it so much just play for the hell of it, and also against the cops.” Casey nods, finally done with Stabler after managing to flick him in the middle of the forehead with her finger, which he glares at her for.

"And us who don't play softball get drunk while watching 'em." Munch says, leaning back in his swivel, with Tutuola adding a nod from just above him.

Alex bit her tongue, blinking in mild surprise. Back before she had 'died', they had gone to bars together to celebrate such things, and she didn't know any of them had really had any penchant for sports outside of Stabler occasionally mentioning his daughter's soccer or basketball results. She certainly had no clue Casey was apparently formidable enough on a softball field to hold on against a built detective such as Stabler.

"Speaking of drunk, I'm back." Olivia announces, strolling into the precinct once more, finding her way to stand beside Alex while cradling two bottles of some discounted wine, holding one up as evidence.

"Oh I got the worst fucking hangover from that shit-" Fin fires off immediately, who then gets silenced by a snort from Olivia, and the warm atmosphere is immediately resumed, Novak and Stabler beginning to chatter about proper swinging technique and which one of them was doing it wrong while Munch, Benson, and Tutuola start arguing over alcohol. Alex felt rather out of place.

Tone switching over to something light and banter-y was usually a bit difficult for her after grueling caseloads, and today especially she was just done. She didn't want to leave, though, she didn't want to be alone or god forbid find company with other stiff-necked attorneys to chat with hollow words about unnecessary topics, but involving herself in this easy exchange- especially since she wasn't entirely sure if she was invited- was hard.

"Oh, how about you join us, Alex?" Olivia suddenly exits her own argument to turn towards the blonde, her face soft the way it usually was when it came to her. "I know it's not your type of thing, probably, but it would be nice to have you there."

Her voice is earnest, and Alex had been wishing someone would invite her to accompany the drinkers, so although she entertained the puppy-eyes Benson made at her for a few seconds longer than necessary she did ultimately accept.

"Does this mean we can put bottles of something more worth drinking on Cabot's platinum card?" Munch mutters, pushing his dark glasses up the bridge of his nose, and Alex snorts.

"Tough luck, but if we go to a bar after I'll carry a round."

Olivia's head whips around and stares pointedly at Casey, firing off a quick, "No tequila," to which Casey makes the most indignant face Alex could possibly imagine on the copper-headed woman.

"Hey, that was not my fault- and also only once-" Casey defends, and Stabler starts laughing, slapping his fist on the table.

"Do you remember the whole thing with that-"

"Yes," Casey snaps, "I'm sure mostly everyone does, and if they don't then-"

"Casey, Alex wouldn't know." Olivia says lightly, elbowing the mentioned blonde, "Come on, Alex, aren't you curious? We should retell this for your sake, right?"

Alex's icy blue eyes met Casey's dense green ones, and she was momentarily indecisive. She wasn't friends with Novak, and she wasn't going to pretend that she was, as much as she enjoyed watching the copper-headed attorney play with the coworkers she was genuinely close to. She wanted to know, but as soon as she saw the guard up in Casey's posture, the way that Alex's rigid demeanor was mirrored immediately by the younger woman, she faltered.

Alex was stiff. Her spine was held to an excessively intentional angle. Even though to everyone else she seemed almost as natural as the rest of them, learned iron in her veins commanded her to be a degree of rigidness that came close to robotic. And Casey was the farthest thing from imperceptive.

In the courtroom, it was necessary to shoot the same metaphorical bullet as the one that had been fired at you, and Casey did nothing short, her vertebrae stacking above one another as she readjusted herself, jaw growing more firm, her eyes flickering to become hard and sharp in a way that would almost seem predatory had it not been for Alex's recognition that this was entirely procedural for the younger attorney. Alex knew in her head too that if she was interacting with someone else like this, she'd have done the same thing.

Lawyers had a way of exchanging thoughts without verbalization, and Casey and Alex were currently having an odd back-and-forth that happened within a fraction of a second completely unbeknownst to the rest of the room. Casey registered the swirl of thoughts in Alex's mind and her inability to formulate a response in time to seem natural, and with the ball in her court, decided to give the blonde attorney an out.

"Okay, fine," she huffed, as though she was actually unwilling to share, despite the fact she was fully aware Alex would not have moved to force her to and she could easily tamp down or distract the eager detectives, "long story short, Olivia and I started fighting, and she made a jab about me no longer being white collar's youth prodigy, so I tried.. to prove how youthful I still was- er, still am."

Alex wrinkled the tip of her nose, pursing her lips to stop from laughing at that, and Casey twitched an eyebrow jokingly before shaking her head.

As soon as her head turned, the copper-headed attorney decided to release the inelastic facade she had just momentarily constructed, leaning backward once more. To the eye of the others, nothing that demanded the level of thought that had just been executed had come close to occurring.

The older attorney wasn't entirely sure how to reward Casey for her kindness in that exchange, but she felt like she should. She made a mental note that she owed Casey something- perhaps if the copper-headed woman snarked at her sometime in the future, she'd let it go without question, or some similar social grace. Her uncle has drilled in the 'advice' that one never forgets what they owe another, lest suddenly be surprised when the other expects to collect.

"She ended up kissing this random blonde woman who was going through a divorce." Munch supplied helpfully, who earned a glare from Casey in return, and the seconds returned to passing at a more natural rate rather than the slowed pace Alex had just felt like they moved in. The conversation was resumed.

"No, the bad part wasn't even that she made out with her, but the fact her flirting consisted entirely of legal jargon-" Olivia filled in, and Alex snorted softly as Casey's head whipped in the other direction to glare at her instead.

"Okay, okay, listen- first of all, she was not a random woman, her name was Jane and we did keep in contact for the duration of her vacation here-" Casey raised a finger, cutting Liv off, "and if you understood any sort of vocabulary past fifth grade, it would have made perfect sense to you."

Alex paused, deciding this was probably a point at which a response was required to reestablish her presence so she could stop relying on Olivia to make her involved, "Well, it does seem like a- ... youthful thing to do?"

Casey's jaw fell slightly agape, and then she closed it with a huff. "Okay, well. Olivia's just pissed because I can actually involve myself with women."

"I'm not gay!" The brunette protested indignantly, to which Casey and Elliot exchanged a look that read as what-is-she-on.

Olivia was silenced for a moment, bristling, before extending her arm to rest on Alex's. "Alex, help me out, us straight girls need to stick together with all this-"

"Straight?" Alex questioned, an uncomfortable chuckle in her throat, "Olivia, you didn't know I'm-?"

"What?!" Olivia cried, straightening immediately, not affronted but apparently incredibly surprised, which Alex internally sighed at, only to be distracted by a low whistle from Casey that she decided not to respond to.

Internally, Alex was grappling with the new information that Casey was sapphic. She was too, although she understood why Liv hadn't known, she wasn't super forthright with her identity- but Casey?

After a moment's contemplation, she realized that this actually made a lot of sense and she felt mildly stupid for not having realized on her own.

"Yeah," Stabler says after a pause, "I think this is our cue to get going to the softball diamond before Liv has her whole am-i-gay breakdown right here in the squad room."

The rag-tag group collectively nods, shuffling for possessions, with Olivia still apparently on edge and lost in an internal conversation with herself about the possibility of homosexuality. After a few more moments of collecting items or putting things into respective places, and after Casey pats Olivia sympathetically on the shoulder, they begin to head out to the parking lot.

Alex clicked the key to her Cadillac, briefly pausing to obtain the address of the sports place as well as a time, since a few people wanted to drop by home to discard professional belongings or change, and because a few members of the DA's teams were still in session, before studying the exits of her colleagues.

Tutuola and Munch separate to respective vehicles, with Olivia being given a ride by Stabler as usual, and Casey splitting off from the group entirely to unlock her bike. Cragen excuses himself with the explanation that he's not going to meet up with the rest of them, he doesn't play softball nor does he drink so he's spending a nice night in instead.

Everyone's method of transportation seemed in some way reflective of themselves. Munch's windows were so tinted Alex was vaguely concerned about the potential illegality of it and Fin's car is beat up in a way that shows he doesn't abide by the physics of curbs. Olivia and Elliot's carpooling constantly served as a testament to their bond as detectives, and Casey...

"I still can't believe you actually bike here every morning. While wearing the suit? Jesus." Stabler bantered, leaning on the hood of his own car while watching Casey fumble with the lock on her bike.

"Well," she replied in a curt rasp, straightening, "that's why my legs are toned and yours would snap under water pressure-" she stopped to point at him almost accusingly, "and don't get me started on cardiovascular health."

Olivia drags Elliot into his car before the two start bickering again, and that leaves Alex watching Casey out of the corner of her eye as the attorney fixes her bike locks to the luggage rack before swinging one leg over the seat and taking off, her chin nestled in her scarf, her mid-length hair swirling behind her.

For a second too long, she lingers, but then Alex climbs into her cold car, groaning slightly at the feeling of the stiff leather on her back, before driving without picking out a destination. She didn't have anything she felt uncomfortable leaving in her car, nor did she have anything to pick up, so going to her penthouse was somewhat pointless. However, with about an hour until the designated time, staring out the window at the city streets far below seemed more interesting than staring at said streets on the ground level while seated aimlessly in her car, so she went home.

The elevator opened directly into her apartment, so she needed to use her key in the elevator pad itself, and when she did and the doors opened she dropped her briefcase right next to the door- it fell exactly the same way it would've if she had intentionally placed it, which makes her mildly irritated.

She didn't bother to kick off her shoes, placing herself on the couch in her apartment, and staring blankly at the wall. Her spine was straight, her legs angled to the side in the way her mother had taught her to make them look longer, her hands folded in her lap. Her apartment felt desolate. Her skin crawled.

She tried to focus on something- anything, really, in her apartment- but all she was met with was cold, smooth marble that her eyes slid off of. Plaquettes held her accomplishments that suddenly felt utterly pointless, framed pictures of her family or college friends that seemed impersonal. She couldn't keep a plant alive and she had never actually gone decor shopping herself, so the place was devoid of color, only shades of grey.

Alex groaned and placed her hands over her eyes under her glasses, tilting her spine backward until it hit the back of the sofa. It felt wrong, everything felt wrong, and her skin felt like it was crawling, her bones turning and burning inside her like she imagined cement would feel. It was uncomfortable in a way that wasn't painful- but that didn't stop her from fixating on the discomfort immensely.

The attorney rolled to the side, swinging her heels up onto the couch, one hand cradling her head and the other reaching to tug off her glasses. Strangely, in the dim blue lighting of the sun setting behind heavy clouds, her mind shifted to the opposite of said cold color- it landed on the shade of Casey's hair.

In the DA's office or in court when they crossed paths, Casey was stiff in the way every lawyer Alex had ever encountered was. The degree of rigidness that was learned by years of constant practice of saying and acting exclusively in intentional ways. Still, though, her eyes were always warm, in a way lawyer's eyes seldom were. But when she relaxed, which she was able to do, unlike Alex, she was simultaneously the same and also a completely different person.

She'd be lying to say she didn't know Casey was athletic- despite her unaware that she played softball, or was to any degree interested in her own physique the way her exchanges with Stabler today suggested- Alex had let her eyes linger on the other woman's arms on occasion in warmer environments when the redhead rolled her sleeves up. Her mind constructed the image of running her finger along the toned curve of her forearm, up her arm, and towards the delicate curve of her neck. In her imagination, Casey's skin was warm, and it only warmed further at Alex's motion. When she met Casey's olive-colored eyes, she was already looking back at her, eyes only half-lidded.

She felt her own cheek flush in her palm, and she sat up, shaking off the thought, but the sensation of warmth in her cheeks and the imagined feeling in the pad of her fingertip was enough to pull her off the couch, to the bathroom, where she took off the makeup she had done for court, tugging her suit jacket off, fumbling off her belt.

She wanted out of the porcelain, out of her skin for a night. She had seen the way Casey's guard had flickered up when she had faced her in the squad room, holding a mirror to the rigid body across from her, and she wanted out. The solution to that was to try to force the stiffness out of her soul so Casey wouldn't have any such thing to mirror. She had a reputation to uphold with the rest of the squad, with Liv and with Stabler, but Casey was more perceptive than Liv was- at least when it came to her- and she felt as though she knew enough to play it safe while still getting what she wanted. It would be an issue if Liv or Stabler or any of the other detectives or such lost respect for her professional standing. She was diligent, and hardworking, and she valued that about herself immensely, and she was not about to make the mistake of letting that persona fumble for a night’s activity. But still, she wanted a night where her skin felt like it belonged to her. If Casey's eyes didn't harden when she looked at her, maybe that would be close enough.

Her formal attire was replaced quickly, boot cut jeans instead of her slacks and although she didn't remove her white blouse she layered it with a loose sweater. She ran her fingers through her hair, intentionally messing with it, before nodding with satisfaction at her now slightly more casual appearance. The collar of her blouse sticking up through the neckline of her sweater was enough to not shift the persona the detectives identified with her, but she decided it was enough. It was enough that her uncle would click his tongue at her for wearing jeans while around a colleague.

She then proceeded to sit almost aimlessly on her couch again, drumming her fingers on her lap while waiting for the time to elapse so she could go to the softball field without being the first one there. In her mind, she debated writing up some notes or preparing for a case in the coming week, but she knew if she went back into lawyer mode it would just be worse trying to shake it off again. Unfortunately for her, as a kid all her hobbies were dictated- fencing, equestrian, ballroom dance and such, and since she never really grew attached to any of them and then failed to procure a hobby or pastime in her adult life, she didn't have much else to do.

Her phone chimed and she picked it up, assuming it would be something idle or law-related, only to find a text from a number she recognized, her heart thrumming insistently when it realized whose message she was currently reading.

Casey Novak→ Hello Alex, this is Casey (Novak, the one you work with, in case you know another)

Casey Novak→ Apologies for jumping this on you, but any chance we could carpool tonight? My bike is having a technical issue I can't be bothered with fixing it currently.

She waited a couple seconds before answering with,

← Seems doable. Send me your address?

Casey responded to that within a minute and Alex exhaled, mentally registering where that was, before standing up. With the detour of picking up Casey as well as the fact it doesn't really matter if she's early now because she's accompanying a player, she feels soothed to leave soon.

← Would you find it alright if I came in about a half hour?

Casey Novak→ More than alright, you have my thanks

← I'm more than happy to help.

After a pause, the message goes on read, and Alex doesn't really know what she had expected as a response. Mildly discontented, she put her phone down.

If she wasn't about to be driving, she would drink a glass of wine, but alas that was quite literally the point so she could not indulge herself. She pondered briefly the logistics of getting drunk when she was at the softball diamond, but worst comes to worst she’d just have to taxi. And, she supposed, would have to take Casey also in said taxi.

She felt her jaw grow a bit firmer at the constant resurfacing of Casey Novak in the back of her mind. Alright, sure, now they actually had plans and she was picking her up, so it made sense. But still. It wasn't exactly unlike her to develop random infatuations, desires to knock people she admired and simultaneously was irritated by down a peg, god knows the mistake with Jim Steele- but… Casey seemed… different.

Her heart muttered that Casey seemed warm and alive and her skin seemed soft and she was entirely unlike anyone Alex had ever grown attached to, Casey was not a power play, Casey was not a mind game. Casey was Casey. Alex didn't really understand what that meant.

She clicked her tongue to herself and then decided that no, she would not pursue anything with Casey. She had been toying with the idea of making that dream of tracing up Casey’s forearms with her fingertips a reality, perhaps as a flirty joke she could pass off as drunken boldness. But now her heart started to fumble in her chest at the thought, and not only in a good way. She wasn't exactly sure why her mind was suddenly reeled in the polar opposite direction of what she had been fantasizing about only a couple of minutes ago, but now she felt mildly stressed. Her skin crept little patterns on her nerves like ants blacking out a lamp, eating through power cords.

Maybe the fact she didn't really understand Casey is what sent little alarm bells ringing in her mind. To pursue meant to trust and to trust meant she had to know it all. She felt like she knew essentially nothing.

Sometimes Alex really wished she was less self-aware. She analyzed every thought or feeling she had like it was someone else’s, and therefore frequently felt as though she was drowning in someone else’s brain when in reality she was still sitting on her couch in her apartment in her clothes in her- supposedly her- skin.

It was time to leave now, anyway, so she cut herself off from her own train of thoughts to stand, and collect some items in one of her more used purses in case alcohol was split, it got snatched, or some other random misfortune that may occur to a handbag. Once she was pleased with her level of preparation she double-checked the contents one last time- car keys, one of her more mildly used wallets, phone, power bank, medical emergency kit, a notepad, a block of sticky notes, her pager, and a pen. She pulled a scarf on as an afterthought, not entirely sure if the temperature would drop as it got dark out but decided not to take that risk.

With that, she left her penthouse, standing stiffly in the elevator on the way down, staring at herself in the reflective wall the metal box had. Hmm.

Within twenty minutes, and exactly on time to the thirty minutes she had offered Casey earlier, she was parked on the street outside Casey’s address, looking up at a rather elegant brownstone. Sometimes she mused to herself that the modern aesthetic of her apartment complex far outranked the sort of shabby, oftentimes falling apart older buildings, but this seemed.. it seemed vaguely Elysian. She approved of it.

← I’m outside

Casey Novak → I’m sorry, I’m running a little late. Would you like to come up? I’ll buzz you in.

← I can wait in my car, I don't want to intrude.

Casey Novak → I’ll feel better if you just come on in. I’m inviting you. Please.

Alex blinked at that message, slowly typing out,

← Okay, then. If you're sure.

She exited her car with a furrow in her brow, locking the vehicle, and then continuing the steps up to the doorbell placard, where she found Novak’s name printed in a thin, flat font. She pressed the small silver button next to it, making a mental note of the floor and roughly which door it should be based on doorbell placement. A startling buzzing sound went off that Alex was thankfully prepared for, and she pushed open the frankly unnecessary large wood door. She traveled up the steps, to the third floor, deciding that she should start exercising more often if going up only three floors already had her inhaling a bit sharper, and she didn't need to wander reading the names next to the ringers because Casey’s door was open ajar and she was peeking her eye through the crack.

Alex caught a glimpse of Casey’s smile through the small opening, before the copper-headed woman disappeared in a flash, waving Alex in. She did as instructed, closing the door behind her tentatively. Immediately, she could not see Casey in her own apartment.

“Sorry,” the woman called, “I decided I wanted to shower beforehand so I need to straighten my hair again. That's why it's taking me a minute. Just sit down wherever you like, I’ll be done in just a second.”

“You straighten your hair?” Alex asked curiously, standing awkwardly in the foyer. Although Casey had instructed her to sit, she couldn't imagine pulling a chair out anywhere or settling herself on the younger attorney’s couch.

Inhaling deeply, she resigned to studying Casey's apartment interior with interest.

The interior walls were a smooth ivory, the floorboards a dark wood that matched the accents- the window and door frames, the stairs. Casey’s apartment was a lot more vertical than her own- where Alex had half of a floor, so her apartment was wide horizontally as well as deep, the walls were only a couple of feet on each side in the entry hallway and Alex couldn't imagine the rooms being, well, anywhere as large as her’s. But somehow, the comparison did not change the charm of the apartment.

Perhaps that had something to do with the atmosphere. It smelled like sandalwood and caramel, and the walls were lined with memorabilia- which Alex considered briefly was strange, because Casey's desk and office were almost barren considering some of the other workstations she had seen. She skimmed over smiling faces, Casey with dozens of people she’d see in this photo and never again. Casey with a little girl propped up on her hip, holding a little boy by the hand on a beach, all three smiling at the camera, but in a way that made it seem like it was almost unintentional, like someone had captured a moment in a camera which usually only existed in fond memory. Casey kissing a man with short brown hair, her arms, which seemed slightly thinner in the photo than Alex had grown to know them, (although the woman was always slim,) wrapping around his shoulders. She looked younger, happy, smiling into the kiss, and he did too. Probably during college, Alex mused. Casey’s finger, resting lovingly on his shoulder, was adorned with a silver band. Alex blinked.

She chided herself to move on with her inspection. Whoever this person was, it didn't seem like they were still in her life, unless Casey had been cheating on him with ‘Jane’. Stabler didn't take well to cheaters, so Alex really doubted that. She wasn't sure what the thrum of her heart was meant for- so she just exhaled. She couldn't drag her eyes away from it, though.

When she inhaled again, she was greeted with the scent of whatever hair products Casey was currently employing. It dragged her out of her thoughts, and it made her twinge with guilt at the thought of analyzing Casey’s history through her personal pictures. Casey was kind enough to be undeserving of an inspection.

There was no door between the foyer and the kitchen, so Alex turned to focus on that instead, her blue eyes skimming over what appeared to be a sourdough starter. Music played quietly out of some surround sound speaker, somewhere, something idle, and indie.

The dark brown of the floor was complimented well by the constant appearance of plants- not flowers, but succulents or similar. Apparently, Casey was in the middle of repotting one, because the table had a large tray with items that would suggest that.

“Oh, sorry about that-” Casey mused, appearing suddenly next to her, “I was trying to swap out pots for that one- roots were getting too big, you know, but then I got buzzed for a warrant this morning and dropped it.”

She smelled really good, and Alex wasn't happy that that was the first thing she noticed, but she did. Casey’s perfume, which Alex had noted a couple of times in the DA’s office, had just been freshly reapplied, and her hair was perfect in a way that only lasted a couple of moments after styling it. She looked in a way that Alex could only describe as warm.

Casey was dressed in a blue softball jersey that had ‘Sex Crimes’ bolded on the front in a lacy font and tracksuit pants. The usual frustration carried in her eyes and eyebrows was gone entirely, replaced with lights of excitement that showed in the way she held her hands and smiled. She wasn't wearing any makeup, only a dark lip balm that Alex now wanted to know the brand of.

“And yes,” Casey said, replying to Alex’s comment from a moment ago, despite it having felt like an eternity since then to Alex, “I do have to straighten my hair. Not all of us can be blessed with locks like yours, Miss Cabot.”

Ignoring the teasing nature of her voice as she said Alex’s more formal name, the blonde still lifted her eyebrows as if pained and shot her a look. “Please never call me ‘Miss Cabot' again- It’s just Alex to you.”

“Alright, ‘just Alex’-” Casey said, with an amused huff, before turning and waving at her abode, “verdict? You seemed interested.”

“I-” Alex pursed her lips. Casey was not stupid. If she hadn't been interested, she would've sat down like Casey had initially instructed or been on her phone, or been staring off into space. “I like it. You have a very lovely apartment. It suits you.”

“Thank you.” Casey smiles, pleased, before glancing back down at the houseplant activity. “It would feel better if I had gotten to finish this, though. My mom insists I keep them all.”

“Why?”

“You know how in law school, you’d stay shut in all the time, sleep at horrible hours, and keep the blinds drawn? She bought me a million plants and kept making me show her they were still alive to make sure I was airing my dorm and letting sunlight in. And that I was looking up from my laptop at least for a minute a day.” Casey snorts, but she seems fond of my memory. “I guess she doesn't really insist I keep them anymore. She hasn't checked, anyway. But I got used to it. I swapped out her delicate plants for succulents, though, because I forget to water them sometimes. I’m not here very much.”

“Your mother seems like an attentive woman,” Alex comments, watching as Casey’s eyes grow momentarily heavy, staring still at the plant, before she blinked it off.

“I’ve been blessed,” she answers smoothly instead, “with a wonderful family.”

There's an awkward beat of hesitation, where neither knows what to say, before Casey exhales and forces a smile. “Have you eaten anything? If you're going to drink with Tutuola, you probably need something to eat. And I need to grab my gear and such. If we leave now, we’d still be significantly early.”

“I had breakfast-” Alex starts, before seeing Casey raise an eyebrow at her, “but it was a large one, Casey, I’m not trying to tear up your kitchen.”

“Sweet or savory?” Was the other woman’s only response as she strolled into her kitchen, opening cabinets and ruffling through items.

“I don't have the time to make you something properly right now, but God help it if I let you leave here without eating something.”

Alex stood uncomfortably in the doorway to the kitchen, a small unsure frown on her face, so Casey shot her a pointed look, walked over, grabbed her arm, lightly guided and then shoved her into a chair, and then went back to trying to find something to offer her.

“You seem,” Casey looked at her as if studying her brain through her skull, “as though you’d have a sweet tooth.”

“Why do you say that?” Alex looked at her, slightly indignant. Outside of being used as a method of intimidation, it was normally rude to brazenly note observations as such in the world she was used to. It was far more polite to make it sound as though it was a question.

But Casey just laughed softly, pulling a box out of the fridge and popping the lid. She fumbled with the contents for a few seconds. In the chair Casey had set her down in, Alex could not see what it was until Casey approached, holding a dessert fork in one hand with her other carrying a plate with a generous portion of red velvet cake.

“Fancy ass cake for a fancy ass lady. I made this yesterday, so I think it's still fine to serve you, even if the frosting set a bit more than I prefer. You don't have to eat it all, but I hope you at least try it.”

With that, and not even waiting for a thank you, Casey brushed past, going to collect her sports gear. Alex felt like her head was spinning slightly with the lack of normal procedure. She was being left alone to eat cake in Casey’s apartment? Wasn't the redhead worried she would- well, Casey had commented on the fact she knew Alex was borderline snooping, but to leave her alone after that? How trusting was she? Unless this was some sort of test.

Alex decided to proceed as if it were. What would Casey be testing? How much Alex trusted her? Maybe she thought Alex wouldn't eat food a stranger gave her, well- not entirely stranger, but still. But she couldn't fault her for that, could she? Regardless, Alex wasn't like that anyway. Maybe she was testing if Alex was too prudish to eat what she had provided. That sent a small jolt down her spine- she really didn't want Casey to think she was a snob- so she lifted the fork and in small, precise movements separated a small piece from the slice.

As soon as she felt it on her tongue, she immediately broke off a much larger portion to follow it with. Fuck. It was delicious.

Soft vanilla cream coated somehow equally soft red velvet generously, but not overwhelmingly, and once Alex separated off the middle she could see it was triple layered. The flavor was delicate, but in a way that made every taste bud in her mouth moan.

If she had to go celibate for the rest of her life to eat something like this again, she just might have to consider that. This was better than sex.

“Grandmother’s recipe,” Casey purred, reappearing with a large duffel slung over her shoulder, leaning in the doorway. “Well, not really, but it was one of the first things she made after she got access to the Internet and all the baking blogs one can find on there.”

Alex was physically startled, too engrossed in her eating to have realized Casey’s presence had reappeared. Casey easily could have murdered her while she was eating cake, and she wouldn't have looked up once.

She pushed the plate as if making to stand up, holding a hand in front of her mouth as her mother had taught her- it was impolite to see people see one chew, after all- but Casey shook her head quickly and took a seat next to her, leaning back, the duffel hitting the floor with a soft thud while Casey stretched out her arms, arched her spine languidly. Alex tried not to let her eyes linger on the soft amount of muscle coating her.

“By all means, I don't mean to interrupt your indulgence.”

Alex sheepishly turned back, pausing only for a fraction of a second before returning to shoveling the cake into her mouth as gracefully as she could. Casey looked very pleased, so that settled her nerves by a fraction. She couldn't and also wouldn't complain about Casey's bemused grin.

“It's- it’s just been a while since I’ve eaten anything this good.” Alex said after a swallow, straightening in her chair a little bit, looking at the remaining bites on her plate as if they were whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

“You look good like this,” Casey said, which Alex’s eyes widened at, blinking up from the cake to Casey, who strangely looked equally delicious, “you're normally so tense. Glad my baking can fix that.”

“I- uhm,”

Casey chuckled at Alex’s fluster, resting her head in her hand. “Just teasing you. But really, I am glad you're enjoying it.”

“How did you learn to bake like this?” Alex murmured, decided to switch tracks since she wasn't very sure what was happening.

The copper-headed woman only shrugged. “You learn in a family as large as mine. I mean, if both of my parents were busy, I’m not about to let all the younger ones go hungry because the older one decided to order something only for herself. And now all my nieces and nephews demand I make them sugary shit when I’m over, so my pastries are decent enough.”

In the back of her mind, Alex was now a bit upset that she couldn't cook. Casey’s reasoning that it was due to her family made sense, but it also twinged Alex’s mind that if her parents were busy and she had nothing to eat, they'd just call for the private chef to come up and make her something nutritious enough. When she was in college, on her allowance, she had just kept ordering delivery. Casey and her seemed to contrast each other notably in that way.

“How many siblings, if I may ask?”

“Four. I have an older sister, and then there was me, and then two twin brothers and my baby sister. Not that she’s much of a baby anymore- she graduated college last year- but still. She'll always be little to me.” Casey exhaled, evidently very fond, before glancing back up. “And you, Alex?”

“I’m- I’m an only child.” Alex said, after a second, and before she could stop herself, “they needed an heir.”

Casey paused, looking up at her thoughtfully, before nodding. “I wished I was an only child a lot growing up. It's different now that I have my own life and everything, but… mm. Families are complicated.”

Alex nodded sagely at that, finally finishing her cake, and then after a small pause asked, “Did you want your own?”

The second she said it, she felt like it was wrong. It was an intrusion, and she was already in Casey’s apartment in Casey’s chair eating Casey's food with Casey's utensils. She was overstepping everything, and she was asking something from Casey she could not possibly believe she was entitled to knowing, without giving her an out.

Casey froze, her eyes icing over. She stared at Alex for a long moment, who now was sure she had done something horribly wrong, but then Casey’s eyes shifted from blank shock to mildly upset.

“Sorry- yes, I did. It didn't work out that way.”

Alex swallowed, and realized this was a decisive moment. She had relaxed, and she had slipped up, and now Casey was rigid, and if she bounced back off of Casey and tensed, she’d never get what she wanted.

So then, biting back her nature and what she was taught to say in such situations, she said softly, “It didn't for me, either.”

The atmosphere shifted entirely, so much it seemed like the colors had changed spectrum. Alex was now used to how fast her colleague could run through emotions and facades, and although that familiarity was from the courtroom, Casey’s demeanor now changing into something almost like solidarity reminded her a lot of it. Casey dropped her momentary coldness as fast as Alex could put down her form, but unlike when Alex changed the face she wore in order to elicit the response she wanted, Casey seemed like she genuinely just had a change of emotion.

“You're still young, Casey,” Alex continued, encouraged by the attorney’s return to warmth, “it’ll happen.”

“Oh, please. Alex. You’re what- two years older than me?” Casey chided, her voice light. “And you're hot as hell, so I’m sure you have suitors.”

“Casey, have you looked in a mirror recently? If I have suitors, you must have a line from here to the DA’s office.”

“Oh, you charmer.” Casey scoffed, but Alex meant it. She slid her hand underneath the now empty plate, bringing it to the kitchen, before picking up her duffel once more. “And now you get to be my driver.”

“I’m honored,” Alex smoothly joked back, collecting her purse and standing up.

She glanced around Casey’s kitchen, then glanced around the foyer, one last time before she followed the redhead out of her apartment. She noted the shift of atmosphere the second she stepped over the doorstep, and internally found herself hoping it wasn’t the last time she was there.

A more sensible part of her brain reminded her just now that she had decided against pursuing Casey, so such thoughts were not worth lingering on. Another part of her brain indignantly riled that she could enter someone’s apartment without any sort of connotation. A third part of her brain wanted to reexamine the circumstances of the decision to blacklist Casey from the possible companion category, while a third sighed loudly and wished they would all shut up. A fourth part snarled that she was not going to allow herself to be vulnerable with this enigma- yes, despite her niceness and her willingness to provide her with cake she still didn't have any grasp on Casey's psyche, so that's what she was- until she had enough to cover her ass if something went wrong. A fifth part just wanted to see Casey smile at her in the kitchen like that again. The fifth part managed to distract most of the others with daydreams.

Casey understood that Alex was in thoughts, so she did nothing to compel a response, although Alex was sure she thought she was musing about family or law or such.

Nothing was said until they reached the front door of the building, which Casey opened and offered, and then resigned to follow Alex to where she had parked. She gave a low appreciative whistle when she climbed into the front passenger seat tugging her duffel down and into the legroom.

“Fuck. I knew from the outside you had a nice car, but… jesus christ, Alex.”

“What? Oh.” Alex glanced behind her as if only just now registering that. It was a nice car. Her Cadillac had been a birthday present from her uncle, especially because her Bentley was sold off after her death. “I- thank you. Well, only the best for you, right? Now that I’m your cabbie.”

She was rather pleased with the hints of a surprised blush forming on Casey's cheekbones. If Casey kept throwing out random compliments at her, she should return that, right?

“It's just because of my bike-…”

“Please. You’re so quick to dish out the teases until I do so?” Alex hummed, amused, and Casey only huffed in response, pointedly looking forward.

Alex set the softball arena as her navigation’s destination, and allows Casey on aux, the same melodious background sound filling the car speakers as they begin on their way. Being the driver is good. If she was the passenger, she’d be darting her eyes too constantly to look at Casey. Casey apparently does not have this struggle.

“So tell me, honestly,” Alex starts, to fill the silence with a topic she knows Casey will yap over, “between you and Stabler, who has the better swing?”

“Me,” Casey says, with absolutely no question in her voice. “Elliot is good- but he’s too used to his job. In softball, most of the swing is supposed to come from the rotation of the shoulders, not the movement of the arm. Elliot relies so much on the idea of punching he doesn't really get that. He tries to push his palms forward and pushes one shoulder down. Besides, I’ve been playing softball for a much longer time than him.”

“How long?” Alex asked, glancing over at her in the passenger seat. Casey was so forthcoming with information- well, yes, Alex had asked, but…

“Since my sophomore year of high school,” Casey answered, “There was this fight involving one of my little brothers and I- well, that's beside the point. Regardless, the coach took me aside the next day, said he’d never seen someone swing like that, and asked me to try out. I did, and that was that.”

Alex let out an exhale that felt like a soft laugh, so Casey quipped in response, “Have you ever played any sports?”

“Fencing,” Alex offered, “and equestrian, for a little.”

“Equestrian?” Casey perked up, “Wow, that's amazing. I’ve always wanted to try riding a horse.”

“I didn't really enjoy it much-” Alex looked over again, and she realized that was a mistake, because Casey was looking at her with such interest in her eyes that Alex felt as though she needed to run for the hills. “I- I… it just wasn't for me.”

“Why not? If I can ask.”

“My instructors had to scold me constantly for being too stiff,” Alex murmured, trying to make it sound lighthearted despite to some degree admitting the biggest self-struggle she had, “when you're on a horse, the horse has to be an extension of you, the same way when you hold a bat- actually, I’m not entirely sure of that, I’ve never played a ball-sport, but- when the muscles of the horse move, you need to adapt and move with it. Otherwise, the horse becomes vexed.”

“So young Alexandra was just being a vex to horses?” Casey chuckled, and Alex tilted her head at the jest.

“But if you tell anyone, they’d never believe you.”

“Oh trust me,” Casey snorted, “I’m not about to let other people know about baby Alex being a thorn in some training horse’s side. That’s something only I get to know.”

“Hey. You just used the adjective ‘young’, and now ‘baby’- am I regressing? And I was more a pain in their back rather than side, unless I very immensely misunderstood where you're supposed to ride horses.”

In reality, the small thrum in her heart that she now associated with the younger attorney was very pleased with the information Casey apparently felt territorial on information regarding her. She couldn't describe to herself why that made her happy, but it did.

“Sigh. ADAs and their technicalities,” Casey shook her head, “and no, I could never accuse you of regression. You only ascend.”

“Good. Quick study, Casey.” Alex purred, the words a bit too soft and a bit too smooth, although she hadn't really thought about it that way until she saw Casey shift and decided she was very pleased she had said it.

It was Casey’s turn to fall into a blushed silence, her eyes fixing suddenly very straight on the road, as if she had never seen New York City before. Alex felt victorious, and she basked in that feeling.

They arrived at the softball field shortly, and as soon as they pulled over in the dirt parking lot and Casey stepped out of the vehicle with her duffel she was essentially jumped by a collection of random people Alex believed she probably had seen previously in the DA’s office- other ADAs, a couple interns. They surrounded Casey eagerly, spouting game talk- apparently feeding Alex cake had delayed her arrival, and she was the last one, so they had been waiting for it. The copper-headed woman gave her an apologetic wave over the shoulder as she was yanked off, and Alex felt uncomfortable. She tried not to feel as though she had just been shunned. If she had spent less time in her intern years sucking up and networking with her uncle and her uncle’s friends, perhaps she would know some of them. Her career was jump-started, she did not have the bond the others seemed to share of watching each other pull themselves up the ladder- despite knowing logically some of them must have also come from nepotism, at least to some degree.

The softball field was fenced in by wired mesh, and ‘softball field’ was really the only way she could describe it, because it was nothing else. There were a couple of bleachers that reminded her of a cheap high school movie- her school had definitely never had anything like that- but otherwise, it was just a meshed-in square in the middle of a flat field, with a large brick box-like building on the side. She spotted Munch already seated on said bleacher, though, and although she didn't know him as well as she knew Olivia, who her mind had been looking for initially, she wandered over.

“Hey,” he greeted her on arrival, motioning to the place next to him, which she tentatively sat down on after her eyes skimmed it to ensure there wasn't a layer of filth (there was, but she ignored it) “Liv's trying to hype up Elliot. He really wants to get Casey back for the last match.”

“What happened in the last match?” Alex muttered, not especially interested but aware she was required to continue the conversation, inspecting the floor of the bleachers for a place to put her purse. She decided directly beneath her was probably the cleanest.

“She- well, nothing exactly. She’s just ridiculously good. Not many of the DA team have her skill, but so long as she’s there she continuously wipes the floor with ‘em. MVP, easy.”

Munch turns to her, almost accusingly. “Oh, you're rooting for that team, aren't you?”

Alex considered that for a moment, then, “I’m rooting for Casey.”

“But, team-wise, you're on our side?”

“I’m just rooting for Casey.”

Well, we had the whole gay talk in the squad room earlier, so-”

“Careful,” Alex chided, cutting him off with a harsh look in her marble blue eyes, “your boyfriend is here.”

Munch looked over with confusion, then saw Tutuola walking towards them, and shot Alex back a glare through his dark glasses. As if on cue, Olivia materialized and plopped herself down next to Alex, handing her a flask and wiping her mouth with the back of her palm indicative of the fact she had just taken a swallow. “El has been given the best pep talk I physically know how to give. If he doesn't win, I’m done showing up to these.”

“Alex is rooting for the enemy while drinking our alcohol,” John fired, but Alex turned to him and, apparently intimidated, he visibly backed off. Olivia just laughed.

Alex took a swig from Olivia’s flask, grimacing at the feeling of vodka burning down her throat, but she took a second swig almost immediately. She already felt uncomfortable, skin prickling and writhing, and being drunk would make it better.

The game began with little issue, and Casey had meant it when she said it wasn't a real tournament so much so as a large group of very competitive friends being cheered on by a large group of friendly drinkers.

She was bored until Casey took the batter’s stand. Alex had absolutely no clue how softball was played, but Casey looked perfect.

It was probably the alcohol talking. Between her and Olivia, they had made quick work of the flask, Liv because she had started to become anxious on Stabler’s behalf, and Alex because she was double-thinking her decision to show up. But if she hadn't shown up, she never would've gone to Casey’s, she never would've gotten that cake and she never would've seen the younger woman's reaction to being told she was good.

And God, Casey was good. Alex watched her sprint, the way she swung so relaxed but so intentionally, completely in her element. It was dark other than the stadium lights, which definitely were not up to standard, but when Alex caught a glimpse of Casey's eyes she could see very clearly the glint of fierce determination.

John Munch had been very correct that the DA’s team- Casey’s teammates, were not comparable to the copper-blonde’s skill. But to that matter, neither were most of the detectives. Alex noted the reality in the way that Stabler swung as if he was trying to hook something instead of swinging a bat- Casey was right- but he still did fairly well.

Not well enough to keep up with Casey.

Every time she hit the ball with a heavy ‘thwack’ that reverberated in Alex’s spine, every time she started darting, long legs stretching out to slide the last meter, the furrow in her brow, the light reflecting off her hair. Alex felt positively dizzy. That last part could very well be from Olivia’s vodka- or so she reminded herself.

She had tied her hair into a bun- Alex mused to herself it was unnecessary for her to have straightened it, then- but it bounced as she walked up to take- no, own the stand. Her lips were pressed into that thin line she made when she was concentrating in the courtroom and was similarly undeniably attractive here, except the corners of her mouth tugged up in a fierce smile. Her movements were fluid and Alex decided that if she would've done well in equestrian, with the way she moved- her intensity was elegant, her movements as refined as a swimmer’s. Alex felt her chest tighten and her heart pounding as she watched, feeling almost greedy for more sight of Casey.

Other than her, she was displeased with essentially everything else. The people next to her were becoming progressively more drunk and more rowdy, cheering and applauding and calling out encouragement or jests to active players, who would yell incoherently back at them. The bleachers had grit stuck in the groves in the aluminum and she mused to herself she’d need to get the pants she was wearing cleaned.

The game simultaneously lasted fucking forever and was much faster than Alex thought it would be. Casey's team won, so Alex had to deal with Olivia huffing and chastising the DA’s team next to her and John giving her a very pointed look, competitive in the way of the observer, that she returned coldly.

Casey didn't come around until the detectives were almost ready to go. Stabler had returned, clenching his jaw after trying to convince a couple people to do some more practice runs with him, and Olivia bolted to her feet to sympathetically pat him on the shoulder. Alex, after a fraction of a second, rose too, and followed. “I don't get how she does that,” He kept grumbling, and Alex had to agree- but her opinion of that was different.

Alex watched out of the corner of her eye as Casey bounced around- literally bounced around, some of the younger interns were literally jumping with the adrenaline and Casey was mimicking it for their benefit- and they hugged each other tight around the shoulders, fluid motions and hearty laughs, until their noses and cheeks were tinted pink with breathlessness. Casey was here celebrating a win- a double win, now- but apparently, some other girl on the team had just lost a major suit according to someone Alex had overheard on the bleachers and the DA’s team was clearly playing on the enthusiasm and adrenaline to cheer her up. Alex watched as Casey grabbed the other lawyer in a tight hug, then pressed a kiss to her cheek, and her stomach fluttered and she looked away very quickly. She hoped no one noticed.

She looked back in time, though, to see Casey shaking the woman off her arm, and that settled the unease in her bones quickly. The other woman held her hand for as long as possible, looking at her with eyes akin to a lost puppy, but Casey only flashed her a bright smile and kept walking, letting her arm fall loosely over to her side as she walked away. She quickened her pace of exit when she saw Alex looking in her direction, jogging over.

“So, Alex?”

“So yourself. You were fantastic.” Alex chimed, and even though Casey was sweaty and was coated in dirt from the floor of the field she extended an arm to give her a half-hug and Casey took it, resting her head on Alex’s shoulder for a moment before letting go.

The others in the group shared similar observations, albeit half-heartedly, while Casey just grinned apologetically at Stabler who stood staring at her blankly. After a moment, the two exchanged a very informal fist bump, and tension eased from Elliot’s broad shoulders.

They chatter about the game for a while, recounting moments of note or teammates that were new or actions that were game-changing, until it was randomly noticed they were the last ones outside, the other legal system workers apparently having moved on to their own after-party that Alex noted Casey apparently had turned down and the other detectives had sullenly collected belongings and dipped.

“So, McMullen’s?” Stabler muttered, “I could use a beer after all this.”

“That's the one all the way near the precinct,” Munch argued, but Alex interjected with, “Let's do it.” That place was familiar- she had grown accustomed to it, and selfishly it was also very close to her apartment. John was left alone in his argument and they all nodded, separating towards cars with the knowledge they’d meet up shortly.

“You may have to drive,” Alex murmured, “I’m above the legal limit. That okay?”

“I get to drive your fancy-ass car? Hell yeah!” Casey cheered, “That's a reward on its own. Come with me, though, I have to grab my things.”

There was a small building off to the side, big enough to serve its only purpose as being a locker room. There were two doors and no windows, effectively a brick block that had no aesthetical component at all, and the lights flickered on as Casey went into one of the doors and hit the light. It kept flickering, though.

Alex stood in the doorway for a second, wrinkling her nose at the smell of very heavy spray deodorant and sweat, but Casey was talking to her, so it felt rude to let the door close separating the two, and after a second Alex stepped in behind her and tugged the metal door closed behind her.

“Did you mean it, though? That in the fourth inning I-”

“Yes, Casey,” Alex interrupted her, “you played very well. I don't say things I don't genuinely stand behind.”

It was rather endearing that Casey wanted her verbal approval, despite the fact Alex was completely aware Casey knew she had played well. She had been getting a stream of compliments and attention from her peers. It made Alex salivate that Casey had chosen to ditch the girl who had reminded her of a dog to talk to her instead. Maybe that was the alcohol talking. Maybe she should keep reminding herself that it was the alcohol talking.

“Hold on- look away, I’m going to change really quickly, and then we can get going.”

Alex felt her cheeks grow warm but she obediently turned on her heel to face the metal door, hearing the tug of a zipper as Casey stripped off her pants, then the rustling of fabric as her shirt came off, and Alex ground her teeth against each other trying not to imagine what was directly behind her. Casey sighed deeply, and Alex bit into her cheek.

She stayed like that, staring bolts of lightning into the door, until she felt Casey tap her shoulder, relinquishing her of the obligation. “Alright. Car keys, counselor?”

Alex pawed them over from her pocket wordlessly and Casey offered her a confused smile but did not press the issue, letting herself out of the locker room and heading towards the car.

She had changed into a white polo shirt, the top two buttons missing to dip and show her distinct collarbones, the cut of the sleeves emphasizing the subtle but firm muscles of her forearms. Beneath it, she carried dark jeans with a leather belt. She hadn't removed her hair from the bun, even though several strands of hair had fallen out near the front, and Alex tried to fixate on the shape of said bun on the back of her head while following her towards her own car.

Her internal monologue was failing to come up with reasons why she shouldn't be allowed to touch Casey's shoulders just a little bit. She could see the groves of muscle through the polo shirt- a little bit, right? Just a little bit?

Alex turned the music up in the car when Casey put it back on so she wouldn't need to make shaky conversation, and Casey seemed content enough with that. The duffel bag had been discarded in the back, Alex now in the passenger with Casey in the driver.

“You seem happy,” Casey commented finally during a lapse in the music- a long outro, or a long intro- and Alex just smiled slyly back at her. She was.

The bar was wonderfully familiar. Alex followed Casey to the booth in the back, the one their group always frequented, and the others were already there, looking up from menus no one really needed because they'd been there so many times everyone already had a signature.

Alex ended in between Olivia and Casey, the brunette on her left towards the wall, and Casey in the gap between her and the end of the couch. Casey struggled slightly- the booth wasn't large enough to accommodate a group of six people, but Alex was more than happy that it forced Casey to try to curve into her side. She didn't move over, didn't try to shove herself against Olivia to make more room for the redhead. With one leg crossed over the other and her shoulder firmly on Alex's, though, Casey made due.

They chirp orders to a bartender who wanders over, Alex graciously agreeing to carry this first round as she had earlier mentioned. Stabler ordered a beer more expensive than the type he normally drank, and Casey shot him a pointed look. He looked mildly apologetic, and Casey rolled her eyes.

John and Fin quickly began chattering about things below Alex’s pay grade, so she turned her attention towards Olivia and Elliot, who were discussing an upcoming event at Stabler’s children’s high school- a fundraiser, or some other such thing- and Casey listened eagerly. Alex stayed mostly quiet, unaware of how to participate in a conversation about public schools and children.

Besides, she had a much larger problem to attend to.

Casey's arm had snuck around her waist and was currently resting on the slight ridge of her hip.

Logically, she could reason that it was because she was intentionally making it more difficult for Casey to sit comfortably, the younger attorney still awkwardly very close to the edge of the faux-leather booth, but still. Her thumb was resting directly on the iliac crest, and if Alex paid close attention it was almost as if Casey was moving it, the rest of her fingers snaking just below it, grasping at the fabric of Alex’s pants. Maybe this was her punishment for enjoying forcing Casey to wriggle and balance on the very end of the seat.

She opened her mouth to join the conversation, but Casey, as though experimenting, ran her thumb in a line across the jut of her hip bone and Alex stiffened on impulse. As soon as Casey felt her spine tense like that, she hastily let go. Alex wished she could ask her to leave her hand there, though.

Why are you thinking like that, she internally chastised herself, Alex, you don't- you said you wouldn't try to do anything with… but she’s pursuing you, now, isn't she?

“Yes, Alex?” Olivia asked with a note of confusion, and she realized she had made to speak and then lost herself in thought. She didn't really remember what she was going to say, though. Her jaw was still open, but she just snapped it shut and shook her head quickly with a ‘never mind’.

Casey's hand did not return for the rest of the hour or so spent chatting at the bar, despite Alex’s struggling attempts at manifesting. She was uncomfortable, now, not because of Casey, but because of Casey's absence. She was pressed so close to her side but somehow it felt as though Alex had messed up, prematurely rejected her, and that something would shift in the dynamic now. The itch and ache behind her skin got progressively worse as she tried to mask her anxiety behind the mask, when really all she wanted to do was talk to Casey. The copper-headed woman’s conversations always included either Olivia or Stabler or Munch, though, and there was never a moment in which Alex could separate her off to start a banter or a hushed conversation between the two of them alone. So, mostly, Alex just sat there, watching her coworkers indulge in the moment while feeling isolated and cold. Her spine was not able to relax after Casey’s hand had left.

She started to feel sick with the rigidness of her body. She wanted to peel it off.

“You seem distracted,” Casey murmured lightly, her breath warm over the side of Alex’s face, her mouth precariously close as she leaned her face towards the side of Alex’s jaw, speaking into her ear. Alex hadn't even realized she had moved.

She steeled her eyes and turned to stare at Casey coldly, almost as if trying to scare her off, a habit she regretted the second she realized what she was doing- I won't let you get this close, I'm warning you- it said, but Casey simultaneously picked up on it, picked up on her regret, and simply grinned at her. She seemed pleased, even, that she was eliciting a response. Alex fumed inside of her mind at the amount of control the redhead had attained over her in the span of a night that wasn't even over yet.

“I’m fine.” Alex said in a hushed whisper, “Just- just drunk.”

Casey provided a low hum in the back of her throat, placing her jaw on Alex’s shoulder, blinking up at her through slightly narrowed eyes.

“Aren't you, Casey?”

“I assumed I’d be driving. I had a beer, but that was around an hour ago, now.”

“Oh.” Alex shifted, her face heating up slightly, “You're taking me home?”

“Do you not want me to do that?”

“I- but, how would you get home from mine? I don't- I can't really give you my car-”

“I can walk from yours,” Casey responded easily, to which Alex shook her head quickly.

“God, Casey, I’m not letting you walk home alone in the middle of the night, just-”

“Are you two planning on leaving soon?” Olivia interrupted loudly, who had drunk a bit more than both of them and seemed irritated in the way drunk people were. “I cannot wait to get away from this guy here,” the brunette sighed, jabbing a thumb at Stabler, who stared at her incredulously. Like Casey, he had also refrained from drinking so he could drop Olivia and John off.

“Olivia, I’m driving you home, and I stand by what I said.”

“But that doesn't even make sense!” She scolded him, “Why is the plural of mouse mice and the plural of goose geese and the plural form of moose still moose? Who the hell has ever said ‘Oh yes, what a lovely pack of moose there in the distance’-”

“Liv, I didn't say it didn't make sense, I just said it wasn't relevant-”

“Excuse you. This is very relevant to my day-to-day life.”

They blinked at each other for a long, slow moment, and Alex decided she did in fact need to get away from them. But, as she reached for her purse to drop what she owed, shame bloomed suddenly in her heart. Fuck.

She groaned quietly, her index extending automatically to rub the base of her glabella, tilting her head backward and squeezing her eyes shut with frustration and also an unwillingness to share what she definitely needed to.

Her discontent at her mistake triggered something else in her stomach, and she felt the familiar sensation of everything inside of her moving uncomfortably, skin aching and turning. She felt like she was about to be scolded by her father- or worse, her uncle- for lacking composure, for forgetting to keep track of every minor detail and interaction held.

It was important to be on top of everything constantly- no, it was necessary. She needed to. It was drilled into her as much as her skin was part of her anatomy, and regardless of how stressed it made her, she needed it compulsively.

She wanted to be someone else, and now she'd have to pay the price for it.

“Alex?” Casey’s voice sounded mildly concerned, and Alex tried her best to hide the embarrassment in her voice when she turned to the redhead and conspiratorially muttered, “I forgot my purse.”

She knew exactly where it was- well, unless it had been stolen since then, but she knew where she had left it. Putting it directly beneath her on the aluminum bleachers of the softball field had not been a wise choice given the principle of ‘out of sight, out of mind' and her lusting after Casey and Casey’s ridiculously attractive shoulders had not helped to remind her to grab it before they left.

Luckily she always kept three hundred dollar bills in her phone case in case of an emergency, so she popped it open and removed one to cover the table, waving off the others who tried to offer her change and similarly dismissing people offering to cover her drinks the next time the group joined at a bar.

“Well, we’ll just go back for it, then.” Casey replied smoothly, and Alex thanked the heavens Casey had not taken this as an opportunity to try to tease her, because Alex genuinely would've gotten mad if she had.

“But that's- that's half an hour each way,” Alex sighed, “and I’ve had too much to drive, but I don't want to ask you too-”

“Extra time with you? I can't complain. Come, now.” Casey grinned, swiping at her shoulder gently the way she had with Elliot earlier, and Alex couldn't help but crack a weak smile and follow her and she made her way out of the bar, waving goodbyes to the others.

“I meant it, though,” Casey starts once they're outside of the building, “you did seem distant back there. Is everything… alright?”

“I-” Alex started without meaning to, clamping her jaw shut and watching Casey unlock her car so they could both climb in, Casey placing the duffel in the back again as prior.

She watched the younger attorney raise an eyebrow inquisitively, which she responded to with a loose sigh.

“Nothing.” She said blankly, and listened as Casey echoed her sigh.

Alex could see the gears churning in Casey's head as they both clambered into Alex’s Cadillac, Casey’s eyes roving over the interior with awe once more. The copper-headed woman wasn't verbally pushing her to explain her issue but Alex wasn't stupid enough to think Casey would let it drop. She briefly worried that Casey thought it was her fault, but if she did, maybe she wouldn't provoke an explanation, and Alex was okay with that. She didn't feel like she wanted to verbalize this discomfort with Casey.

This car drive was again quiet, but not because Alex was in a state of drunken content, but rather because Alex was fighting personal demons and Casey was trying very hard to run through every possible list of what could've upset the older attorney.

“It was just one of my mulberry set, so it doesn't matter that much if it's actually missing or if someone stole it.” Alex said finally, to fill the void of silence.

Casey squinted at her, trying to figure out if that was sarcasm, but it didn't seem to be.

“I’m not going to grant that a response,” she said finally. “You rich kids are something else.”

Alex thinned her lips into a straight line but didn't respond. Casey was right, of course, they had very different upbringings. That's why Casey's skin suited her body, and Alex’s was constantly irritating her.

Neither attorney tried to fill the void of silence after that, not even with music, Alex staring blankly out of the side window while Casey focused on the dark road in front of her. Alex had moved on from her demons to anxiously smoothing her thumb in little patterns on her wrist, very uncomfortable without a distinct reason. This wasn't really about the purse, to put it plainly.

After what felt like an eternity, Casey pulled over, and Alex stumbled out of the car. The place was utterly devoid of people, although the lights were still on for some reason, and it wasn't hard to spot the dot of her bag in the distance even with her glasses. There was a light behind the bleachers that illuminated the spaces between plates of metal and she could make out a shape that blocked out the light exactly where she had been sitting. Without checking to see if Casey was following, she set out, wincing at the feeling of gravel and damp dirt beneath her shoes.

She had picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder before she registered Casey’s presence again, behind her, and the attorney's voice was soft as she spoke.

“Put it back down, Alex, play ball with me.”

Alex froze.

“What?”

“Play ball with me,” Casey echoed, and when Alex turned around the copperhead was simply tossing the softball up and down in one hand without even looking at it. Casey’s eyes were instead fixated intently on her.

Alex shrugged her purse strap tighter to her side as if it were a life raft of sorts. “I don't play sports, Casey-” she tried, but Casey just shook her head slightly, the bun that had slowly been coming out over the duration of the evening bouncing along with the rotation of her head.

“Just catch it,” Casey soothed, “and if you really hate it we’ll go back to the car. Put your purse down- come off the bleachers, come over here.”

It was hard to disobey when Casey sounded so direct, so after a moment of hesitation and a minor internal thrashing Alex set her bag down once more and stepped off the bleachers, onto the grass where Casey was. She knew her face must be exerting a twisted, concerned expression, but although Casey’s eyes were soft they were also immensely firm. Determined.

“I don't know… how to catch a ball.” Alex said lamely, holding her hands out stiffly in front of her. She was rewarded for her confession with Casey’s chuckle.

“Don't think about it,” Casey said, “just focus on me. You’ll catch it.”

The redhead paused her casual toss-catch rhythm, cupping the ball in her palm and letting her arm hang down by her side. She smiled reassuringly at Alex, who hadn't felt nervous like this since grade school.

“You've been doing fine focusing on me tonight,” Casey teased, after Alex hadn't answered, and Alex flushed, “so- should be doable. Ready?”

Alex wanted to curl into a ball and hide, honestly, so no, she wasn't ready. Straight spine, stiff shoulders, her head feeling like it was propped up on a pedestal rather than a neck. Her hands still were held loosely in front of her, as though someone was passing her a wine glass to nurse rather than a ball to catch, and her feet were right beside each other in the ‘natural’ resting position for her- which had been very unnaturally taught, and then forced, until young Alex did not automatically stand any other way. Casey’s brow quirked as if this was amusing to her.

The blonde’s brow furrowed in anxious concentration, and she took a quick breath, trying to focus on Casey as the redhead had so advised. And despite her teasing tone, she had been right, it was easy for Alex to focus on her.

It was really dark out, now, so Alex could only see the parts of Casey that were illuminated by the overhead beam, but it was angled in a way that she could still see most of her. Casey’s eyes were teasing but attentive, and her posture was entirely relaxed. She didn't look like she had when she was actually playing, which relieved Alex immensely.

When Casey had been playing, she had seemed athletic and agile, with muscles that rippled under her skin the way that a leopard’s might as it pounced. Now, more similarly to her courtroom appearances, her arms had relaxed back into how they normally appeared- although they always looked wonderfully lean- only slightly more built than the average woman’s. Her fingers were lithe as they wrapped around the softball she held, a degree of comfort interacting with the object that read easily as years of experience. Alex tried not to note the details of how the white polo shirt clung and accentuated her bust, or the curve of her waist. Casey’s stance- leaning slightly, more weight on one leg than the other casually, did not help Alex scrape her eyes off of her figure. She felt herself relax, slightly, drawn in by the details of the other woman’s form. She supposed it was easy to stop paying so much attention to herself and everything that was right or wrong in herself and her posture when she was given permission to study someone as- well, frankly, hot- as Casey.

“I’m ready,” Alex said after a long pause, running her tongue over her dry bottom lip to ease the nerves. She wasn't sure what prompted her to say it.

Casey eased her arm in a low arc, passing it once, then twice, the arc getting larger each time, before curling her fingers around the ball as she let it go in a firm underhand toss. Trained as she was, it flew in a bow formation, slow and controlled as it made its way directly towards Alex, who caught it instinctively, trapping it between her two palms.

She looked up at Casey with eyes as concerned as if she was carrying a grenade, and Casey laughed, her hands on her knees, evidently pleased.

“Good! Go on, throw it back to me.”

Alex’s nose scrunched up with focus as she tried to recreate the same motion Casey had done, her limbs feeling weird and disjointed, stiff and loose, unlike the fluid motion Casey had produced. But regardless, she threw it.

Casey catching it was entirely due to the redhead’s own ability, because unlike when Alex had caught it due to Casey’s precise aim, Alex had no clue how to direct the ball properly, and it fell short by about a meter, which was anticipated the second the ball left her hand by Casey who scrambled to get it, achieving the fear with only a mild degree of difficulty.

“You did it!” She cheered, bouncing with excitement the way she had when she had won the softball match hours prior, and Alex couldn't help but acknowledge her enthusiasm as very infectious. A small, genuine yet shy smile played on her lips and Casey darted backward again, taking her stance to throw it once more, which Alex did not move to protest.

Unlike last time, when Alex had caught it very close to her chest, the blonde with some degree of determination reached her arms slightly higher, managing to catch it while it was still in the air above her. She still used both hands, but it was a stark degree of progress.

Alex's face split open into a grin of genuine emotion, now, a smile that awkwardly expressed the strange pride she felt at managing the relatively very simple task, and without hesitation she threw it back to Casey, using enough force this time- correcting her precious mistake- so the ball was easily once again resting in Casey's hand.

“Look at you go,” Casey beamed, the corners of her eyes angling with the intensity of the smile she flashed Alex with, “now, this one’s harder, okay?”

This time, Casey threw it overhead, albeit still much gentler than she normally would. Her previous throws were meant to land directly at Alex’s stand, but this one aimed for a foot or so behind her. The blonde, however, had seemingly gained enough understanding of the ball’s arch to realize, hastily taking a few steps backward to once again encase it.

Alex mused to herself that she felt as though she was getting the hang of this, so she returned the ball once more, still using underhand, watching as Casey bounced backward twice to give them more distance. She threw it, and Alex realized it was flying too far to the side, and she scrambled in that direction, bending down strangely but managing to catch the softball before it hit the floor.

She looked up with a very sheepish expression, but was rewarded with the sight of Casey smiling as if it were Christmas morning, and she relaxed, standing up. Casey had apparently taken a few more long strides backwards, away from her.

“I can't throw that far, come closer.” She called, but Casey shook her head.

“You can make it to me- try out throwing overhead.” Casey urged, “And if it falls short, I’ll run and get it anyway.”

Alex stood, awkwardly still for a long second, staring at Casey, who just kept her bright smile. After a second, she glanced at the ball in her hand, and, mimicking Casey’s movement once again, extended one arm behind her slightly, rotating her torso, and then shot it forward, leaning forward into her swing.

Although she stumbled, looking up prematurely to see if the throw would arc the way she had wanted it to, it did fly almost all the way to the other attorney, who easily lifted a singular hand to catch it in her palm.

This time, Casey did not wait for Alex to recompose before swinging- and she did it differently, this time, lifting a leg to fire the ball at her the way she had during softball except with a bit less force. Enough force, though, that although Alex again scrambled for it, the softball flew too far to the side and the blonde woman ended up on her knees in the shortly clipped grass. She turned her head to stare indignantly at her companion, who just poked the tip of her tongue out of her mouth nonchalantly and motioned for Alex to go fetch.

She would never do anything so.. unpretentious. However, with Casey patiently grinning at her, Alex sighed, standing, brushing off her knees quickly, and then briskly pacing to retrieve the ball, which had landed only a few meters to her side.

“Are we done, counselor?” Novak called from her place a ways away, and Alex raised her eyebrow at the other woman incredulously.

“After that?” She scoffed, and threw the ball again more forcefully, purposely not really aiming at Casey who thus had to hasten towards it, reading its path but still needing to scurry multiple meters, catching it but only just barely. Alex refused to note how elegant the motion was, despite how awkward it really should've seemed.

Alex did not have the time to further study Casey’s elegance because the redhead was already firing back at her, one leg raised high at the knee as prior, and that only really made her understand how attractive Casey’s legs were- her undivided attention to the attorney’s arms had made her miss out on something else equally appealing.

This time Casey was gracious enough to aim at her once more, and Alex caught it, each grab easier than the previous.

They repeated this exchange, Casey’s throws were much smoother and intentional, except she kept occasionally throwing slightly higher or lower or to either side to force Alex to move herself. Alex occasionally missed her grab or not being able to close the distance in time, which only fueled her play intensity when she returned the ball. Alex’s throws were mostly loose, but for the most part, they went far enough, and Casey was more than happy to scramble for them, ending up on her knees multiple times but never failing to catch it firmly.

Casey had started laughing, at some point, delighted to be playing no matter how bad her play partner was, and Alex hadn't even realized when her grin became permanent and her exhales started to sound like breathless giggles.

Eventually, Alex’s breathing started coming faster, and there was a thrum in her heart unrelated to Casey, and said woman realized the blonde was starting to get tired. She stopped the back and forth once the ball returned to her palm, choosing instead to jog over.

“Let's try something- hold this.” She murmured, tossing the ball into the air, which Alex now easily and casually managed to snag.

She reached over and adjusted Alex’s position, smooth hands gliding to shape the rotation of the older woman’s shoulders, lightly pressing to move her hips, gliding across her arms to rearrange the assortment of limbs.

She then turned to stand beside her, mirroring the posture she had just moved Alex into, looking at her with a sly grin. “Now, when you throw, I want you to curve like this-” she demonstrated, her motions causing the fabric to ruffle, her shirt rising up slightly at the hem to tease Alex with a thin strip of the woman’s abdomen, “and raise your leg like this, and then,-” she made a hushed whooshing sound, a cartoonist version of a ball being thrown.

Alex nodded obediently, starting to prepare herself before Casey shook her head quickly. “Give me a headstart- I go on two, and you go on zero. Okay?”

The blonde was now mildly confused on what Casey was attempting, but regardless nodded, frozen in the position Casey had sculpted.

“Five, four, three..” Casey counted down, slowly creeping her body down into a low lunge, “two-!” she bolted forward, and then Alex understood, mentally counting down the last two numbers before flinging the ball as hard as she physically was able to.

She was then content to straighten out, catching her breath, while watching Casey sprint after it. Her strides were so long and so light Alex wasn't sure she was even really touching the ground. With the movement, her ever-loosening bun snapped open, and auburn hair flowed as if cascading behind her, and Alex's breath caught still in her lungs.

Even though the ball did manage to outfly her sprint, she was damn near close when she dove for it, sliding on one knee to retrieve it, skidding to a halt a little ways away from where she had initially landed. She jumped up, shook herself off, and then jogged back, a breathless grin on her face.

“I thought I had it,” she panted, “I’ve always wanted to try doing that.”

The copper-headed woman proceeded to flop down on the grass, rolling so she was lying on her back looking up at Alex who was still breathing with a little more labor than she’d like to admit from their previous shenanigans. After a second, Alex carefully sat down next to her, near but not close enough to be on her loose hair by accident.

“You were very close,” Alex agreed, eyes never leaving Casey’s enthusiastic ones. “I didn't know people could be that fast.”

After a brief second, she reached out and rested her hand on the front of Casey’s shoulder, who blinked up at her. It was a reassurance that Alex’s earlier silence wasn't her fault, Alex tried to convey, that Casey had done nothing wrong and everything right.

Casey sat up to look at Alex more directly, but she raised a hand to keep Alex’s fingers resting on the flat of her chest and an inch below her collarbone. Her face was close to Alex’s leaning forward so boldly Alex almost thought to lean back.

“You look good like this,” She cooed so lightly it was almost smug, almost victorious, “you’re normally so rigid, so overtly mannered.”

It was then that Alex realized she had not registered anything of herself outside of trying to figure out how to position her arm to throw better for the past while.

Nothing had seemed to exist outside of Casey laughing gleefully across the field, bouncing from one foot to the other while waiting for her to launch her softball back to her- as much as Alex could launch it- and as soon as the ball had left her hands, the only thing she thought of was the sight of Casey running to snatch it midair, her hand itching to feel the leather again so she could try again, see if she could throw it farther, and more forcefully.

See if she could make Casey laugh harder, the giddy sound almost echoing in the night, filling the void and almost creepy vacant softball field with audio so genuine it made Alex’s heart flutter. See if she could elicit another called praise, or another witty comment from the woman she had been eyeing so intently.

Her limbs and joints felt loose but connected, blood racing through her veins happily as if finally allowed to dart around her body, resurfacing energy and releasing dopamine in a way she hadn't felt in what must now be years. Her bones felt as light as a bird’s, and her skin was so enthusiastic at the play it nestled onto her body like a puzzle piece that finally clicked into place, and even now that she was finished, it felt like her own. For once, Alex had earned the right to feel comfortable in her own skin.

She hadn't cared to ponder what she must look like, in a blouse layered by a sweater in a field with her glasses, tripping over herself to try to play ball with a woman who could pass as a semi-professional athlete. Her chest must be heaving in an effort to catch her breath, her lungs entirely unused to anything more strenuous than stairs, her legs long but her ability to use them only equivalent to a fawn’s. But whenever she had caught Casey's playful eyes, they looked at her like her stumbling self was a million bucks, and that was enough for her.

This was enough for her. Her goal for the night had been realized in full.

“What are you thinking about, counselor?” Casey breathed, and Alex realized she had leaned even closer, dark green eyes searching her’s as if she could read words in Alex’s pupils.

Alex almost thought she was assuming something until she caught the microaction of Casey’s eyes darting to her lips, before glancing up a fraction of a second later with a hint of shyness in her expression- something Alex had never seen, but certainly wasn't complaining about- and Alex was more than happy to indulge her, seeing as how Casey had spent the last hour trying to ensure Alex could ease some of the rigidness from her soul.

She left the hand Casey had touched on her collar, but brought her other hand up to cradle the back of the redhead’s skull, closing the small gap between their faces, and pressing her lips gently against the other woman’s.

Casey let out a small, whimpered sound, and Alex tried to let her go, only to be tugged back with ferocious intensity.

The younger woman pushed her into a more structured sitting position, one leg swinging over Alex’s lap to straddle her hips, Casey’s hands cupping the sides of Alex’s neck, one thumb on her jaw. Her lips were so soft, but so exhilarating, Alex felt as though she could melt, Casey pulling them apart every couple seconds just to come back closer a second later. Due to the nature of their position, Alex had to crane her neck to angle her face up at her, the column of her throat exposed, and Casey was clearly thrilled, her hands exploring her jaw and below it, soft touches that felt rather greedy.

Alex was finally able to take what she had been fantasizing about- when Casey pulled them apart for a second, panting for breath much harsher than she ever had while exercising, she untangled her hand from the auburn locks she had grasped and ran her hand instead down Casey’s shoulder blade, reveling in the feeling of the soft muscles and the small noise Casey made when she did so, catching the woman’s mouth once more to swallow the sounds she made as her hands both moved to smooth over Casey’s biceps, her triceps, her forearms, and then back up again.

“Alex,” Casey breathed into her mouth, before Alex shifted, pressing her back into her lips, to which Casey had no protest. The copper-headed woman’s hands stopped so much exploring as they did holding for support, and Alex mused to herself- the first coherent thought to break through the haze of bliss she had found herself in- that Casey must have thought she’d be the one to have the other squirming. The thought amused her, and only compelled her to continue feeling her up.

“Alex-,” Casey was whining now, Alex’s hand slipping behind her lithe figure to her shoulder blades again, running her fingers down savoringly before turning her attention to her ribs, using her thumbs to brush against her breast only slightly before moving down her to waist, utterly enraptured.

Alex bucked her hips, startling Casey as the blonde pushed her off entirely, and then kept pushing, rolling them over until Casey was flat on her back, and Alex was over her, her knees buried hard into the dirt to keep her above in a way that would've made her quite upset at the grass stains they’d be sporting later had she not been so enchanted by the feeling of Casey moving, Casey’s muscles bunching and twitching as she moved against her.

“Oh,” Casey gasped, and Alex paused, raising her hands to either side of Casey’s head so she could smile down at the woman whose cheeks were so red they almost matched her hair.

Her blonde hair fell to frame Casey’s face, who breathlessly tried to push it out of the way so she could see the triumphant gleam in Alex’s eyes, and then Casey propped herself up on her elbows to land a soft kiss on Alex’s grinning lips.

The normally overtly composed woman broke into a giddy laugh, sitting up, before rolling to the side so she could lay next to Casey in the dark grass. Casey snorted lightly at the sound of it, rolling to the side so she could study Alex’s gorgeous side profile as the woman looked up to the dark night sky above them.

“I guess this solves the issue of us going to separate apartments with only one car,” Casey breathed, and that just made Alex laugh harder, lulling her head to the side to meet Casey’s eyes and see her quiet smile.

All of Alex’s strings had been cut. Right now, she felt anything but stiff. Anything but rigid.

[xxchumanixx]

tim bradford x reader

tim knows the reader has a crush on him and so he likes to play around with her about it (flirt, etc) maybe a confession at the end after the reader has finally had enough

Stop talking

Tim Bradford x reader

Warnings/Tags: hurt, angst, fluff Word count: 2.508 Authors note: Hello love, I hope you'll like how I wrote it! I'm not a hundred percent happy with it, but that could just be me being tired of studying. Anyways, let's get going!

Enjoy!

Tim and you had been best friends for years now.

You two had went through thick and thin.

He was there with you, whenever you needed him, being your shoulder to cry on or being your support.

You were there for him, when things with Isabel went downhill, her addiction breaking him apart piece by piece, until she had left him in the middle of the night, shattering him completely.

You remember him calling, frantically asking where she went. But you didn't know, being as clueless as him - even more so, not knowing that she was doing drugs in the first place.

When he then confessed her addiction, you nearly lost it. He had went through all of this suffering, carrying this burden for months, all alone.

He should have told you, even if you might would have ratted her out - she couldn't have been going on carrying a weapon whilst being high.

A responsibility she wasn't able to hold anymore.

You've been there for Tim, never letting him down. But as you were taking care of him, supporting him, something inside you slowly shifted.

Or maybe it had been there all along, but you never would have dared to dig further.

You fell in love with him, as wrong as it was. You couldn't love him, not like that, he was your best friend. But as time carried on, your feelings only grew stronger.

It didn't help that he dated a few women over time, breaking your heart again and again.

Somehow along the way of you being his heart mender, he became your heart breaker.

One night, when you were drunk as hell, having gone out to a party, you might have let it slip - or at least hinted at it. You didn't remember everything, but you were quite sure that he knew about your feelings.

Still you hoped for the contrary.

He occasionally would flirt with you - nothing he never did before, no matter with who. But it made your heart flutter, nonetheless.

Especially since he did it more frequently. You weren't able to tell a joke and an earnest flirt from him apart anymore.

It went from him brushing your hand, hugging you on a night out with a few friends to him kissing your cheek, whispering things into your ear.

Nothing seemed too serious, but it confused you, fueling your feelings for him even further. He wasn't like this before.

"Come on, don't be a party pooper!" Tim complained, pointing at the shot of tequila in front of you. Rolling your eyes, you downed it, before slamming it back on the table, after you had refused to drink it at first.

"Happy now?" you retorted, narrowing your eyes at him, even though you weren't really angry with him.

You were at the bar with a few friends, including Tim. He had brought a round of tequila shots to your table, causing you to grimace.

The last time you had tequila, you almost confessed your feelings to him.

He nodded proudly, grinning at you, the action making you swallow, as your heart beat a tad faster.

He would be the death of you.

"What do you say we dance a little?" he asked, already standing up, not giving you any chance to protest. Rolling your eyes playfully, you grabbed the hand he was offering you, following him onto the dance floor, to where most of your friends had already went off to.

Your fingers tingled as they came in contact with his, sending pleasant shivers up your bare arms.

He normally isn't one to dance, you noted. But he seemed a little different the past few weeks, anyway. Maybe it's nothing.

He chuckled, as you clumsily followed his movements.

Yeah, you really weren't one to dance, either.

He approached you, hands on your hips as he started to guide you. "I'm not that bad." you complained, causing one of his brows to rise. "Tell that to my feet." he retorted, grinning.

You blushed, looking away for a split second, as his hands sent a certain warmth through you.

"Are you okay?" he wanted to know, sounding worried. You nodded, sending him a smile that was meant to reassure him.

Even if he wasn't yours, he was at least for this moment.

His fingers dug into your waist, his thumbs brushing circles on your skin, were your shirt had cutouts.

Maybe you shouldn't have listened to Angela when she told you to buy it. It seemed a little flimsy, nothing you would have typically picked.

It just was too exposing.

Now, you were pretty sure every being on planet earth was able to see the goosebumps forming on your skin.

Tim tugged you a little closer, his breath fanning over your face. He did that often lately, you noted again. He more frequently would seek your proximity, even if it was just a brush of his hand against yours, or something as simple as a hug.

He did it on purpose, you were sure of it by now.

He had to bite his tongue, when you entered the bar earlier. Angela really had it coming for him, your shirt with the cutouts surely her doing.

She knew that it was complicated - at least for him it was. He had refrained from thinking about you in a different way more than once, knowing it would lead to no good.

At least not for him.

He wasn't blind, and he wasn't dumb either. When he had picked you up from a party a few weeks ago, you said something that wouldn't leave his mind.

"I'm never the one."

He had asked what you meant, his gaze briefly wandering towards you, as he drove on the still crowded streets of LA.

"I try so hard but I'm never the one." you had just mumbled, looking out of the window. "I'm so dumb. I'm in love with my -" your words were drowned out by someone honking, clearly unhappy with Tim stopping at a red light.

Dumbass.

He could only assume what you were talking about, or rather who, having to bite his lip as the possibilities of how your sentence would have ended pointed at him - your best friend - as well.

It wasn't like he didn't harbor some feelings for you, too. No, in fact they kept him up at night, plaguing his thoughts even when he was dating someone.

But they weren't you.

When you cared for him when Isabel left, he truly learned to value you. He got to know you in a different way, not the best friend one, but the passionate woman you were.

And he couldn't help but keep thinking about it. About you.

"You look good tonight." Tim noted, causing you to blush again, as you swayed to the rhythm of the music. A smile lightly graced your lips, as your eyes met his, the intensity of his stare stealing your breath.

"Thank you." you returned. "You look pretty good as well." He chuckled, smirking. "I know, baby." he agreed playfully, causing you to huff out a laugh, shaking your head at him.

The endearment made your heart flutter, the sound of it still ringing in your head.

Baby...

You liked it.

It added to the list of names he had called you during the past few weeks: darling, sunshine, sweetheart and now baby.

But, over the time he acted different towards you now, it came to bother you a little bit. Did he nowadays call everyone of his friends baby? Did his hands brush those of others like they did yours?

You knew it was silly - to even interpret something into it, was silly as hell.

But you couldn't help it.

Sometimes, like right now, as one of his hands slid a little more downwards, his face inches from yours, you were unsure, not knowing why he did it.

Did he even know himself?

His cologne clouded your senses, the room slightly spinning, and you finally had enough.

"Excuse me." you mumbled, slipping out of his grasp, before hastily making your way towards the front door, pushing it open.

You needed fresh air, otherwise you couldn't think straight.

Fighting against the tears in your eyes, you let out a silent, frustrated cry, hands balling into fists, after you stopped a few feet away.

Something you realized a while back, came to your mind again.

Either you had to quit your friendship, or you had to get rid of these feelings for him.

Both options were heartbreaking.

The door pushed open behind you, steps echoing through the night, before he stood before you. Of course his protective instinct had to kick in.

"What happened?" he wanted to know, confusion and worry etched into his features. "I'm good, just needed some fresh air." you lied, trying to reassure him, not looking at him though.

He shook his head, not believing you. "Y/N, you know you can tell me everything." he tried to get you to open up, but you just snorted.

You didn't mean to, really, it just slipped out.

He leaned down, his eyes searching yours. "Y/N." he pressed, even more worried by your reaction.

"Are you having fun?" you snapped at him, finally looking up. He leaned back a little, brows furrowing. "What do you mean?" he asked, knowing that you didn't mean hanging out at the bar.

You huffed, barely being able to contain a frustrated laugh.

"Do you like making a fool out of me?" you asked a bit louder, arms crossed over your chest. "Because I don't. Whatever it is you are currently going through, don't let it out on me."

His mouth was agape, as he tried to process what you said. "What do you mean?" he wanted to know, though it seemed to dawn on him. He really should have kept more to himself.

"I mean your-" you searched for the right words, getting frustrated again. "Your constant over the top flirtatious behavior, the touches! Maybe I'm just misinterpreting things, but something's been different for the last couple weeks!"

He huffed, brows raised. He was right with his assumption, he had to admit that he went overboard with it. But he wanted to test his theory - and he had desperately hoped he was right.

"Do you remember the night I picked you up, after that party you went to?´" he inquired, biting his cheek.

Of course you did - how could you not if you almost spilled the truth in your drunken state?

"What about it?" you gave back, not sure if you really wanted to hear it. "Do you remember what you said?" he asked, eyes fixed on yours. Inhaling shakily, you licked your lip.

"I don't know what you mean."

His eyes rolled, as he shook his head, getting worked up. His patience was running thin, you playing dumb not helping the case.

"You know exactly what I mean." he deadpanned, arms crossing over his chest. Trying to hold back the tears that welled up, you looked down at the ground. "And?"

He sighed, taking a small step closer.

"I know what you feel."

He risked it, he had to. He didn't have the patience to play around. He needed to know if he was right.

"I know that you have feelings for me."

Your heart stopped, before it doubled its speed, as your cheeks grew unbearably hot.

"You don't know what I feel." you tried to deflect, shaking your head as a tear managed to spill. "You don't know how it feels to love someone you can't have, to watch the person you have feelings for go out on dates. To watch said person delve into a relationship, breaking your heart over and over again."

He sucked in a breath, finally having his confirmation.

"But I-" he wanted to interject, but you didn't let him.

"You don't know, how hard it is to have to choose." you continued, briefly looking up at him. His face was contorted, like he was in pain, as he opened his mouth to speak - but you didn't let him, again.

"Either I get rid of these feelings as quick as possible or I distance myself. It both fucking hurts to think about."

He grew impatient, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, as he waited for you to shut up. But you were rambling on, eventually causing him to snap.

"You-" He didn't let you talk this time, as he grabbed your face, pulling you closer, not giving you any time to process, as his lips met yours. They moved demandingly against yours, his hands tilting your head to get better access.

When your mind finally processed what was happening, you returned the kiss, leaning towards him.

Why was he kissing you?

Not that you complained, though. It felt heavenly, his lips being soft and warm. They moved in synch with yours, his tongue licking into your mouth.

When he let go of you after a while, you gasped for air, eyes wide as you looked at him.

"Stop talking." he muttered, breathing heavily, his pupils blown wide. "I wasn't sure if I heard you right. But I had to try - I had to know it. Yes, I fooled around by flirting with you, but that was to find out how you'd react."

One of his hands brushed a few strands of hair out of your face, before it stilled on your cheek.

"I have feelings for you, Y/N." he admitted and the butterflies in your stomach exploded. "I know that it's wrong, but fuck it. After what happened with Isabel, I didn't want to fall in love with someone like you again - someone that knows me like the back of her hand, someone that knows all my weak spots. But I was wrong. I never should have dated someone just to get rid of these feelings for you - instead I should have asked you out on a date."

Mouth agape, you stared at him, pure happiness and warmth pulsing through you.

"And that's what I'm gonna do now." he continued, eyes locked onto yours. "Do you want to go out for dinner with me?"

A tear managed to escape your eye, but he was quick to wipe it away.

"Yes, Tim, I'd love to." you spoke shakily, smiling at him through the tears in your eyes. "And yes, you are right - I do have feelings for you. I just never thought you would even consider me."

He rolled his eyes, muttering a bullshit.

"Let's go out and we'll see if my flirting is appreciated now." he offered, smirking a little. Huffing, you swatted at his arm. "It was appreciated, thank you very much."

He laughed, one of his arms wrapping around your shoulders, as he guided you back to the bar.

"Let's go, or we'll be arrested for not paying our bills."

"Our first date being in a cell at the police station - how romantic!"

[skyrim-forever]

WIP Wednesday

It's Wednesday my dudes :) Thank you @chiqita @silly-little-diary @labskeever for tagging me! Great to see your cool stuff :)

Tagging: @theoneandonlysemla @pocket-vvardvark @changelingsandothernonsense @scholarlyhermit @sulphuricgrin

@hircines-hunter @ladytanithia @firefly-factory @heavy-metal-dick @sanzas-reverie @dirty-bosmer (I know your super busy bestie so no pressure)

@saltymaplesyrup @captain-of-silvenar @lucien-lachance @friend-of-giants @thequeenofthewinter @umbracirrus @pyre-of-pages

I've gotten a bit more hair done, progress has been slow on him, decided he'll get done when he gets done. But I have gotten a lot of writing done! This is a snippet from Chapter 4 of Changing Tides (which I'm hoping to post this weekend). Both 4 and 5 are done and Chapter 6 is underway!

Under the cut is Visdros being a dickhead to Odile's neighbour and this neighbours drops an important piece of information for her:

The other mer gazes lingers longer on Visdros than her so she introduces them. 

“Ah Baelyn,” she uses his first name. “This is Visdros, I found him wounded and now am trying to help him find his way.” She chuckles nervously, distinctly leaving the revenge-seeking out. When the Bosmer says nothing, the two just exchanging looks that puzzle Odile, she decides to get on with why she’s here. “I was wondering if we could trouble you for a ride to Leyawiin, if you are still going today.” 

“A ride in what?” The injured mer mutters. “A walking tree?”

“My boat,  twelve feet, single sail. Modest but perfect for going up river.” Baelyn almost sounds defensive, even more so when he adds, “Not for attacking others like some brute.” Visdros’s eyes narrow as the sneer which looks all too familiar by this point, dawns his face once more. 

“I will never set foot on a vessel controlled by one like you.” 

“Do you got a problem with mer like me? I thought you’d like it, maybe you could even steal from me, I’m sure you’ve done a lot of that.” What in Oblivion?

“You’re not worth my time nor the effort,” he does a stabbing motion with his hand. Visdros spits on the ground, offers one more glare and then turns to walk away. “We will walk.” An even more familiar feeling occurs in her chest, where it always did. Anxiety grips her lungs as she cycles through fear and confusion. 

“It’s a two day trek! It would be so much…” She stops mid-sentence. I can’t ask Baelyn to help us now, not when he has been so rude. The Bosmer had choice words of his own but Visdros did insult him first and most importantly, unprompted. Yet, he was already eyeing him, too frequent to be just curious… She turns to address her neighbor, muster up some apology for his behaviour as though she is responsible for him. I am. “Oh Mr.- Baelyn, I am so sorry for him. I mean absolutely no offense, I don't know what…” Her eyes drop to the ground as she grows even more confused. In a way she shouldn’t be surprised given how brash he’d already been but, that did not cease to make it jarring. Thankfully the other does not blame her.

“I’m not offended, Odile. Don’t worry about me.” That does ease her fears, but the confusion only grows when he speaks next. “I suggest you be careful traveling with one of those fish.” Fish? Is he alright? Has he been injured too?

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean...” He sighs, pointing to the mer who is now leaning against a tree, almost making a show of avoiding looking at them. “We don’t see them in these parts but they are notorious along Valenwood and Summerset.” Baelyn looks back at her for what he says next. “He’s a Sea Elf, a Maormer if you want to use the Elvish. They come from an archipelago far south. Their lot are either pirates or soldiers, both equally ruthless." A Maormer? So he’s not a Dunmer but, but something else? “I suggest before you go anywhere with him, you think on if he’s worth the hassle.” I am worth the hassle. Her principles of good will were worth the effort, wherever he is from does not change that.