#literally just a short 'loved this' would probably get you closer to the update you want

[gasmeros]

"please update" what if i said no ._.

[nyxyooni]

(3) Honey Ties

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hello! i'm back!!! i know its been a little over a year, trust me. out of all the fics that i have not updated this is the one that haunts my nightmares the most. BUT enough of that, im here! this is here!!!!! not only is this an update, but ive also just made up my mind, literally as im typing this out as to what this whole thing is gonna be. and im thinking of a slice-of-life-esque collection of loosely connected chapters with very little plot scattered about.

and! before you continue, this is also my informal invitation for you, my dear and wonderful readers, to make requests for any future updates! i'll make another update as to what im comfortable with writing for this particular story later! so, without further ado, lets go!

————

In retrospect, the man kept a decent amount of distance between himself and Bruce, one hand was steadily holding out a flute of champagne while the one next to Bruce clutched the opposite lapel of his suit jacket. Really, he was most likely leaning closer to their father simply to speak clearly to him. His eyes, although hard to see through the glare of the glasses covering them were looking at Bruce's face with respectful interest, an easy smile on his moving lips. There was nothing scummy about the man, nothing threatening—well except maybe for the sheer size of him but then again, his shoulders were slumped, rounded despite their broadness.

"Jason!" Hissing as he reached a hand to the bigger man in front of him, so close to being able to grab him, and lamenting when his hands failed short a mere inch. At least Jason wasn't bulldozing people out of the way, small victories he guessed. "Jason!" Near desperate Dick threw himself at the hulking figure of his younger brother stuttering to a stop just as Jason froze, suddenly becoming a brick wall. "Jason for the love of god, get your issues under control you absolute freak—"

And they were right in front of Bruce and the stranger, except that the stranger wasn't a stranger at all.

"Mr. Kent?" Straightening in order to stand next to his brother, Dick suddenly felt a little stupid for being even remotely suspicious of Clark Kent, granted he hadn't known it was him, but still, the man couldn't hurt a fly even if he tried.

"Hm? Oh!" Straightening up with a little jolt Clark Kent patted his free hand against his thigh, letting go of the suit to reveal the fact it didn't quite fit properly but he was smiling gently, dimples sinking into his tan cheeks, "hello, Mr. Grayson, Mr. Todd." Nodding at both of them, voice sure and body steady. "I don't mean to be rude or overstep my boundaries, but it is a wonder to see you at one of these events, Mr. Todd."

Huffing, relaxing at long last Jason popped out one of his hips as he crossed his arms, beside him Dick also deflated, taking a nice, slow deep breath and lifting his head to smile at the reporter. "Mr. Kent, you know how we feel about you addressing us like that," Dick would probably say out loud in his next interview, that Clark Kent was his favorite reporter of all time. Something about the man felt incredibly warm.

Laughing, somehow in a way that felt like walking out onto the porch of a country house on a warm summer morning, Clark Kent's smile grew. It dulled the intricate glass chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.  "And if I remember clearly, I said that the only way I would stop was if you would stop calling me as such," peeling away fully from Bruce and the baby, Damian following the movement with a small sway of his body, Clark stood a couple of steps away from their father, "in that regard, I can see the family resemblance..."

It was slow, it was gentle, and somehow, despite being in the middle of a gala, full of old, rich people with money stuffed all the way up their asses, they looked at each other as though they were alone. Dick took a step closer, his body moving on its own.

"I am here to pry. What is a man such as yourself doing here, Mr. Kent?" Jason's voice cut through Dick, it made little baby Damian snap his head over with his mouth open. Only Bruce remained serene, with a gentle smile as he looked at everyone gathered around him, gently bouncing Damian. "Out of all the stuck-up people who just love to talk about themselves, you're here, bothering our father and—"

"Jason..." Bruce's voice wasn't hard, it never was, and never had been, and if Dick were to bet money on it, couldn't be. "Let's not be rude, Mr. Kent and I were just having a nice conversation," in his arms the baby seemed to focus on Clark Kent, body leaning over, to stretch out towards the reporter, hands flailing and mouth moving in words that were not words and could not be heard over all the other noise. "What is it, baby, hm?"

Moving Damian, shifting him so that he held him up in front of his face from somewhere under his shoulders, hands wrapped securely around his body, cradling his ribs. However, Damian leaned over to the side, hands reaching and reaching. Toward Clark Kent.

All four of them stared at the baby, shock clear across their faces, Clark Kent stared blankly until a smile broke out on his face, so very unlike the previous one. Somehow it shined brighter, it made Dick take half a step back and made Jason go rigid. It was obvious, he was whole-heartedly and unabashedly endeared with the little bundle of joy currently trying to claw his way into his arms and out of his father.

Raising a hand, curled weakly, Clark Kent used two of his fingers to pinch the baby's cheeks, he did not take Damian into his arms the way the baby wanted, but he did give him attention. The man stepped closer, hunched down so that he could look into those priceless jewel-green eyes, and smiled. "I don't know, baby, maybe you should stay with your daddy?" It was near deafening, the soft tenor and sway of Clark Kent's voice amidst the maddening constant buzz of the crowd around them. "Who is he gonna hold if I'm the one holding you, hm?" Letting go of the soft supple skin to instead gently rub with the back of his index finger the man smiled again.

Damian whined, high and reedy and short, he wriggled one last time and sighed. As though a wave of sleepiness hit him all at once he settled against Bruce's chest. Blinking slowly and instinctively moving his hand up to his mouth so he could suck on his curled fist.

No one moved, no one made so much as a sound. Even when around them the buzz seemed to be near a delirious height the baby's body relaxed, chest rising and caving slowly and steadily like. Damian had fallen asleep.

Awestruck, Dick reached out to gently poke one of Damian's soft, chubby cheeks as though he couldn't possibly believe what the baby had done. It wasn't that Damian struggled to sleep, at least not when he was comfortable and in a quiet peaceful space, not silent, the baby seemed to love the sound of their father's voice, or the soft chirping of birds, the trickle of water from a stream, the pitter-patter of gentle rain. Never silent, simply calm. The beating of their father's heart as he slipped away into slumber atop his chest.

Damian disliked loud, chaos that held no rhyme not reason, crashes, bangs, or pops, just like any baby. Damian loved the sound of his family, just like any baby.

"Well, would you look at that," gently maneuvering the baby so he was being cradled in his arms, Bruce smiled up at Clark Kent, that utterly wonderful and disarming smile and made his eyes crinkle and his dimples show. "It seems that my baby was all tuckered out, it has been a very exciting day for him," halfway through his sentence, Bruce had instead focused on Damian, speaking down to him in a hushed tone. Leaning down to plant a dry kiss on the baby's forehead. "Does anyone have the time?"

All three of them snapped to attention at finally being addressed, neither Dick nor Jason had their phones on them, Alfred insisting that it was ruining their suits pointlessly so. Still standing beside their father, Clark Kent brought his wrist up in a quick, sharp movement and slid his sleeve down so he could peer down to his watch for about three seconds.

"It seems to be a quarter to eleven," came the man's smooth voice. His glasses had slid down his nose, resting at the very tip. Swiftly he pushed them up with his middle finger in a practiced motion from years that had transformed it to instinct.

"Dad." Jason called out, voice taking that tall-tale brattish tone that had irked Dick to insanity when they were still getting used to being around each other. The shock of having the young man call their father as such settled in right after the irritating bit of nostalgia. "If you still want to hang around and..." trailing off, pointedly looking Clark Kent up and down, he finished with a clear expression of distaste. "Mingle... I'll take Damian up to his room."

Bruce looked from his son to Clark Kent, he wasn't stupid, he knew his children. Knew how to read their moods, how to soothe them, and how to speak to them, Bruce knew when they lied to him and when they kept secrets from him. Like how he knew there was something all of his kids were keeping something from, something big, that no matter how much he wanted to know, no matter how it hurt to not be trusted, would wait for them to tell him. Bruce knew his children, and because he knew his children, he was keenly aware that Jason did not likeClark Kent.

"Oh Jason," stepping forward to his son, not for the first and definitely not for the last time, startled at how the young man was taller than him, "don't worry about that, I'll take him up, get him nice and settled." Cupping the side of his face, Bruce smiled when Jason's shoulder's relaxed, "stay here, make sure nobody tries to steal Dick away, or worse, Tim." Grinning, he dropped his hand, stepping away and towards the way out, "I'm worried that he'll try and bite someone again."

Dick's laughter leaves his chest before he even realized it. Someone had once made the mistake of trying to... cozy up with Tim while the boy was practically falling asleep on his feet, never mind the fact he was still very underage. The outcome had been hilarious. And very satisfying, Bruce had unleashed hell on the degenerate and was banished from any and all future galas that he hosted.

"Mm, I don't know..." Jason rested his chin on the webbing between his index finger and thumb, "it was pretty funny last time... something tells me it'll be pretty funny a second time..."

Huffing fondly, with a roll of his eyes, their father shook his head as he turned around. Maneuvering around people with an amount of tact and ease that made all three men jealous.

"Well... that went great!" Dick turned to Clark Kent with a clap of his hands and a smile on his face. Beside him Jason grumbled, refusing to look at the reporter and instead surveyed the hall, glad that in about an hour or so, everyone would be gone and their home would return to the peaceful atmosphere he had learned to appreciate. "We understand that you and Dad were talking and... we want to apologize for interrupting—"

"I don't."

"—since you two seemed to get along and, while I shouldn't be saying this, Dad doesn't have many friends, so I appreciate that he had you to talk to tonight." Finished Dick, as though he hadn't been interrupted at all. 

Clark Kent looked at them both with mirth dancing in his blue eyes, the shade was darker than their father's, it was almost like the blue that inked the ocean, low and mellow, or the rich blue spanning over a field of wheat, reminiscent of serenity. As they gazed at them, however, it matched the blue of kings, the reflection of the lights against his lenses made due for the golden accents. His smirk charming, the curls of his hair that fell just right over his forehead enough to distract from the ill-fitted suit. Flute of champagne half empty in his hands. 

"Please! None of that!" He was smiling, dimples deep, he looked younger this way, disarming, Dick narrowed his eyes, careful to safeguard his own smile. "It was entirely my pleasure, not many people can say that they've had the privilege of speaking with Bruce Wayne, to count myself as one of the lucky few, well... it's almost a dream come true." Clark Kent's voice was smooth, almost impossibly so. 

Jason felt a sneer pulling at the edges of his mouth, that wasn't what a friend would say. He knew something was up with Kent, if it wasn't to try to wheedle some bullshit to fill half a collum on the front page of The Daily Planet, then, of course, it was to get nice and cozy with their father. 

"If you two would excuse me," the man was speaking again, dimples and curls and big blues, "it's been a rather exciting day and an even more exciting night." He was bowing his head, in respect, "and well, I find myself a long way from home. Good night, Mr. Grayson," he held a hand out towards Dick, who took it and shook it, amiably. "Mr. Todd." Then out to Jason, who took the hand, and squeezed a little harder than he should've, in return, the dimples and the man deepened. 

Watching the man walking away, lacking the same grace of his father but still impressive in his own manner, a bad feeling began to stir in their stomachs. 

[yoonpobs]

Omg requests are open AAAHHH

may i request an oblivious oc and tsundere yoongi who likes holding oc's hands and idk like maybe oc thinks it's bc his hands are cold and his friends make fun of him and oc only realizes yoongi likes her when they spill his secret

as a yoongi stan, this is my guilty pleasure and this absolutely KILLED ME ily for asking this 🤣and double update today???? who am I????? 

hope you enjoy this v fluffy and v yoongi piece <3

pairing: tsundere!yoongi x oblivious&clumsy!oc

genre: FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFF

warnings: lots of squealing into ur pillow moments. taehyung, jimin & jin being the saviours tbh

words: 3, 136

Yoongi is staring at you like you spilt milk over his favourite pair of sneakers and you have no idea what to make of it.

“Uh …” You drag, blinking up at him with wide eyes when all he does is level you with a blank stare.

You can hear the distinct chatter of your friends in the background, likely already having their go skating around the rink. They always left you and Yoongi alone, for whatever reason it may be. But you weren’t complaining, you wanted to give him your gift in private!

But when Yoongi only stares at the mass of knit in your palms as you hold it out to him, you can only feel your ears flush an embarrassing shade of red at the subtle gesture of rejection. 

Yoongi was by no means a malicious person, but he was very clear-cut. He was straightforward and it was definitely one of his qualities that you admired the most about him. His ability to mitigate any situation, or look at things objectively was something that you struggled with for the most part of your life. Which is why some people would mistake him for cold or uncaring, but you knew better. 

“Do you … do you not like it?” You ask meekly, eyes darting everywhere but his as they continue to stare you down.

Yoongi doesn’t say a word. Instead, he grabs your hands with his larger palm where your gift lays and observes it, scrutinises it as if he’s there to pick apart any stray strand of yarn. His hand, despite his exterior, is soft and gentle when he holds you; and your brain short-circuits for a good five seconds when he traces a thumb over your knuckles.

“It’s cute.” He shrugs.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Your eyes dart down to your hands and somehow you find them in a familiar position. His fingers intertwined with yours and his palm engulfing yours entirely.

“T-Then why don’t you—” You try to pull away, making an effort to dangle your hand-woven mittens in front of him in hopes of attracting his appeal towards it.

But he doesn’t even bat an eye, just sighs and squeezes your hand tighter.

“I’m holding your hand.” He says pointedly, shooting you a serious stare.

You stutter for a response, and despite the chill in the air you hope he can allude to the redness of your cheeks a result of the wind that blows past you and not the flustered state you find yourself in when he tugs your body closer to his.

You suppose you found a bad spot to give him the mittens because you nearly stumble into his chest at how wobbly you are on skates. You planned his gift for weeks, fully aware that your group of friends was intending on coming to ice-skate. 

“I’m really bad at ice-skating. I’ll just slow you down.” You huff with a frown, still attempting to tug your hand away.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, “I literally don’t care.”

You gape at his bluntness and scowl when he only offers you a lazy smirk. His hand is still tightly wrapped around your own, and you sigh, knowing that it was hopeless to fight against Yoongi when he was far stronger than you were.

“I can skate with Tae or something, he and I are pretty much—“

“No.” Yoongi blinks.

You splutter, “E-Excuse—?”

He snatches the mittens from your other hand and shoves them into his pocket. The action is so quick that you can barely register the way Yoongi is tugging your forehead as you flounder on your feet, already feeling unstable at the way the ice is set on making you fall.

But Yoongi is there like he always is, and he rests a gentle palm on your waist and shoots you a rare and soft smile that makes your heart weak.

“I’ll teach you.” He says it like it’s obvious, “Just hold my hand.”

“Yoongi, I really don’t think—” You weakly protest when he pulls you closer until you’re nestled comfortably by his side, his face set forward as he blatantly ignores you.

“Stop being so stubborn and hold on tight.” He scolds, squeezing your hand when he feels your fingers loosen its grip.

You pout, your other hand patting your cheek in hopes of easing the burning of your cheeks.

.

Lest to say, you are horrid at ice-skating and you wished you stayed home.

Your two left feet was probably the least interesting thing about you, yet it was the one thing that left a lasting impression on the people you’ve met. Whether it be because you tripped up a flight of stairs as you rushed to your next lecture, or if you accidentally torpedoed into a bush while you were attempting to penny

“How are you even real?” He huffs, fingers intertwined tightly with your own. You’re grateful he has a lethal grip on you because you don’t think you’re ready to be doused in ice, even if it was at your own accord.

“I’m sorry!” You whine, hand still clasped with his.

Yoongi doesn’t let go, even if you’re stable on your feet. He never does. He only holds your hand tighter, grumbling something about your clumsiness as he uses his spare hand to adjust the strap of his bag over his shoulders. When he shoots you a look, you feel very much like a scolded child as you pout up at his narrowed eyes.

“What would you do if I wasn’t holding your hand, huh?” He laments, eyes rolling while he tugs you towards the direction of your friends who have somehow all gathered at the corner of the rink.

You stare at your feet, tittering to keep up with his long strides as he keeps the hold on your hand firm. 

“Look, I don’t ask to be swept away—!” You retort petulantly, but Yoongi completely ignores you as he squeezes your hand in response, right as he stops in front of your friends.

You’re still sulking when Yoongi doesn’t let go, shooting you a look that has you pursing your lips shut. 

“Lovely for the two of you to join us,” Jimin snorts.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, but you miss the lethal glare he shoots at your mutual friend.

“I’m sorry that my skating skills can’t keep up with you,” You huff.

You see Jin’s eyes dart down to your intertwined hands, before looking up; a knowing smirk on his face that you can’t decipher.

“Seems like Yoongi has it all settled.” He snickers, nudging Jimin by the side.

You can feel Yoongi roll his eyes next to you, even if you pout at Jin’s words.

“At this rate, I think you’re basically joined by the hands,” Jimin says smugly.

You blink.

“She’ll fall,” Yoongi says blankly.

“Look, I said I’d skate with Tae but he’s so adamant!” You cry.

Yoongi shoots you a dry glare, before briefly releasing your hand. You splutter for a second, surprised at the sudden coldness that engulfs your grip and the emptiness that you feel when he no longer has his fingers intertwined with your own.

“What—?” You furrow your brows but Yoongi pats you on the hand to ease your confusion.

“I’m getting you hot chocolate. Your hands are freezing.” He murmurs, and to prove his point; he grabs your fingers and rubs soothing circles on your knuckles to provide you with any warmth he could.

If your hands weren’t warm, then your cheeks definitely were. You couldn’t hold eye contact with Yoongi because he was staring at you so intently that you may have been the one to melt into a puddle on the ice.

“But the mittens—!” You call, but he’s already skating away to the confectionary stand where they sell hot chocolate.

You sigh, dejected as you frown. Did he really hate the mittens that much?

“You are so stupid.” Jin gawks at you with a shake of his head.

You turn your head so fast that you nearly fall over, but Jimin’s grip on your wrist prevents you from doing so.

“And clumsy, God, no wonder hyung won’t let you go.” He scolds.

You frown, “Hey! What the hell is up with the slander?” You whine.

Taehyung stumbles into the conversation, quite literally almost smashing his body against the divider but he manages to balance himself by gripping the hell out of Jin’s shoulders.

“You deserve it,” He sticks his tongue out as you gape at him.

“What?! Why?” You hiss, “You literally just entered the conversation!”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, “And I’ve had to see you and hyung doddle around each other for ages so spare me the fucking brain cells because clearly, you need it more than I do.”

“What—?” You splutter.

“You are literally the densest person on this planet.” Jin blinks.

“What are you guys even talking about?” You cry.

Jimin shoots you a dry look, willing the God’s above to give you a semblance of rationality or logic to put two and two together.

“The hand-holding? The constant going out of his way to do things for you? The fact that you’re the only person he’ll ever smile at even if you do the dumbest shit ever?” Taehyung exasperates.

You blink.

“It’s winter and his fingers get really cold—!”

Jin groans, tugging at his hair in frustration.

“No, you idiot! Yoongi literally doesn’t get cold. He’s the human equivalent of a furnace! He literally doesn’t give a shit if he freezes to death. The only reason why he ever holds your hand is that he wants to!” He yells, grabbing you by the shoulder as he shakes your body while you stare up at him with wide eyes.

Does that mean—?

“He hates the mittens?” You cry, face crumbling.

You see Taehyung, Jimin and Jin’s face fall as they all share a look of disbelief.

“I’m sorry but I have no way to defend you.” Jimin blinks.

“I just wanted to do something nice for him! He’s always taking care of me and I thought knitting him a pair of mittens would help with the cold …” You mumble, eyes darting down to your feet as your voice trails off into a whisper.

“Okay, I know I promised hyung I wouldn’t say anything until she figured it out herself but I can’t take it anymore.” Taehyung seethes to the other boys.

Your eyes dart up, furrowing in confusion as Jimin and Jin’s eyes widen at Taehyung’s statement.

“Figured what—?”

“Dude, Yoongi is going to kill you,” Jin warns.

Taehyung scoffs, “Like I give a shit. I’m losing brain cells listening to her speak so this is an act of self-preservation. He’s going to thank me and so are you.”

“What are you—?” You huff.

“Yoongi likes you!” He exasperates, throwing his hands into his air.

The silence is overwhelming, as the four of you simply blink at each other. Your brain is processing his words, but it doesn’t really make sense. You’re confused as you attempt to deduce the meaning behind it until you come to a conclusion—

You look over at Jimin, “Are the two of you—?”

Jimin wants to scream.

“No, oh my God! Yoongi likes you! You!” He shakes you so hard that your head spins, “He likes you so much it’s disgusting and cute so you better do something about it and not accustom us to this torture anymore, okay?!”

Before you can say anything else, you feel a gentle hand on your shoulder. You blink up, and you see Yoongi offering you a cup of hot chocolate, eyeing the rest of the boys weirdly as they stand there with tightened expressions.

“Here you go,” He says softly, helping you blow onto the steaming cup before gently placing it into your hand.

It warms you up immediately, and you only then managed to piece together what Taehyung and Jimin just told you. The realisation dawns upon you as a scandalised expression makes its way onto your face. Yoongi raises an eyebrow, observing the odd behaviour of the four of you as the three boys ignore his pointed gaze.

“L-Let’s go take a seat,” You stutter, pushing on his chest with your free hand as you attempt to skate away from the wandering eyes. The pressure was too much.

“Hey, hold on, you’ll fall.” He gently chides, doing what comes as second nature to him as he grabs your other hand, giving you a squeeze of reassurance.

As the two of you skate away, you miss the sighs that leave the three boys’ lips.

“So, is there a reason why you tried to skate away like you were an Olympian?” Yoongi asks when the two of you managed to settle down in a small bench outside of the rink, tucked a decent distance away.

You look down at your palms, squeezing around the hot chocolate as you pay attention to the steam that escapes the surface.

The words from Jimin was essentially still haunting you, and you wondered if this was some sick joke of his to get back at you for mixing up his toothpaste with his shampoo a few months back. You sulk because this was a really mean joke and your feelings were about to get really hurt if he was lying to you.

“Hey,” Yoongi murmurs, hand reaching out to tilt your chin up to look at him. His stare is so intense that you find yourself cowering away, cheeks red and embarrassed. “Look at me.”

You can’t.

“I-I … there’s nothing wrong!” You squeak, eyes travelling and landing on different people that wasn’t Yoongi. Anyone that wouldn’t cause your insides to melt with just his gaze alone.

Yoongi purses his lips in disapproval, sighing before he sets his hot chocolate by the table next to the bench and turns to face you. You knew that you had no place to run, especially when Yoongi essentially traps you with his eyes, observing your every move.

“You’re shaking.” He points out.

And only then do you realise that you were shaking, and your hands were basically vibrating with the hot chocolate. You cursed at yourself, and the cold.

“I-I’m cold.” You chatter.

Yoongi frowns, reaching out his hand to immediately grab your own to warm them up. But when you spot his hands, you squeak, immediately retracting them as if he was about to bite them off. 

You realise how it looks, and you notice the slight drop in Yoongi’s expression when you reacted the way you did.

“Are you—?” He begins to ask, slow and tentative.

“Not my hands!” You blurt out.

Yoongi pauses for a second before he relaxes his posture and raises a brow at you in questioning.

“Okay …?” He drags, “Where are you cold? Do you need my jacket?” He asks.

You curse at yourself because you didn’t know how to get yourself out of this situation. Especially now that Yoongi was patiently waiting for your response. Your thighs were essentially brushed up against each other, and his body was leaned over ever so slightly that you catch every strand of eyelashes on his eyes.

You were so weak.

“N-No, I … you can keep your jacket.” You stutter, shaking your head as you pat his puffer down when he goes to shrug it off.

Yoongi’s frown deepens, “Well, can you tell me where so I can help—?”

“My lips!” You declare, voice high pitched and loud enough that it attracts a few stares from bystanders.

Yoongi just stares at you, and you’re mortified when you realise what you said, but you can’t seem to stop now that you’ve already dug a hole for yourself.

“My … lips … they’re ... cold,” You clear your throat, blinking up at him with a false sense of determination in hopes of shielding the way your face is undoubtedly on fire right now.

“Your lips … are cold?” He articulates each world tentatively as he observes your face for any reaction.

You nod.

“Yeah. Cold.” You say.

Oh my God, shut up!

Before you can even run away, and it’s as if Yoongi expects you to flee, he pins your hands down with his own and draws closer to your face so quickly that you can barely even catch his next move.

And kisses you.

Smack on the lips.

He pulls away too fast for your liking, and you’re gaping at him like a fish out of the water when you realise what he did.

“You—” You croak, pointing a finger at him.

But Yoongi leans in once more, pressing a firmer kiss to your lips, one that sends your brain into overdrive as you feel yourself melt into his hold. If you were cold, you definitely weren’t anymore. Not when Yoongi is pressed against you like a warm lover by the fireplace.

He pulls away first, again, and you notice the tip of his ears turning red before he offers you that charming smile of his.

“Took you long enough,” He sighs, reaching out to cradle your jaw in his palm. And only then do you realise that Jimin was right, his hand is warm.

“W-What?”

He rolls his eyes fondly, ignoring the way you stare up at him with confused and wide eyes; likely still absorbing what just happened.

“Just hold my hand,” He tuts, reaching in between the both of you to intertwine your fingers together once more as he rests your combined hands on his lap.

“Does this mean …?” You ask shyly, head ducking away from his eyes.

He smiles at you, and you notice that it’s the same look he’s always had whenever he speaks to you.

He brings the back of your hand to his lips and presses a gentle peck to it, causing heat to rise to your cheeks all over again.

“You warm now, cutie?” He murmurs.

You melt, “Oh my God! Don’t—just—I’m literally going to die!” You whine, shoving your face into his puffer as you scream at his suaveness.

He chuckles, low and deep as he unlocks your hands to wrap an arm around your body, tugging you closer until you’re practically glued to his hip like a koala.

“Don’t die on me now,” He sighs, “Just got you to myself.”

“I hate you so much.” Your complaint is muffled into his puffer, but you can feel his grin on the top of your forehead when he presses a warm kiss to it.

“That’s disappointing. I like you very much,” He returns.

You blush, but you don’t push him away when he laughs into your hair, the sound making you melt further into his arms.

You liked him, too.

[rafescoke]

Crime ; Part 3

masterlist

Part #3

Read the previous parts here:

Part #1, Part #2

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Maybe life just doesn’t go your way sometimes. 

Warnings: heavy writings on death! angst, just two people being in love but one of them is scared

A/N: ideas are inspired by @pogueslandia literally the sweetest <3

Maybe Rafe was overthinking it. 

He ran his fingers through her hair, his arms all wrapped up around her. The golden sunlight hit them squarely on the face, and the weather never looked so inviting. 

“Stop thinking,” he whispered, pulling her close. He placed a soft kiss on the crown of her head. 

She hummed, letting him caress her. The guilt was eating her away, and she hasn't felt good for a week now. 

5 more days until John B’s death sentence. 

And yet, here she was; all wrapped up with the boy she loved in the Bahamas. 

Rafe thought it would be ideal to bring her away from the chaos. Her parents thought it was a good thing too, with all of the commotion and rebellion by the pogues. It was her second day in the strange place, but even with all of the soothing sounds coming from the waves, she couldn’t forget about John B. 

Rafe sighed, “Is it about John B?” 

“No,” she quickly said. She bit her lips, blinking to stop her tears from crashing down. 

“I love you,” Rafe breathed. His fingers stayed on her stomach, and it was a pleasing sight to see; two people in love. If only one has never committed a murder.

(Y/N) pursed her lips, because she couldn’t utter the words back. She loved him, of course, but she was scared. It wasn’t like it was Rafe’s fault entirely; he gave her a chance to confess, but she didn’t. 

Love is truly a blinding bitch. 

. . .

“You guys came back early,” Ward said, helping them out with the bags. He turned to look at (Y/N), and then back to Rafe. He sighed. 

“What is it?” 

“She’s not feeling well,” Rafe mumbled. His eyes were tired, showing how they have been fighting since god knows when. (Y/N) didn’t look any well either, keeping to herself the whole time from their departure.

Ward made to grab his arms before he could follow (Y/N) into the house. “Control her.” 

“She’s not a dog,” he said through gritted teeth. He pulled his arms away, seething. 

“She’s going to tell on you.” 

“She won’t,” Rafe answered back, but he too, wasn’t sure. 

Because all of her actions were showing him otherwise. 

She wasn’t like (Y/N) he knew anymore, but he took it as her way to cope with the situation. 

“What is wrong with you?” Rafe finally asked. He plopped onto the bed beside her, his lips curling. 

“I’m just tired.” 

“All we did in the Bahamas was sleep,” he scoffed. “You can’t use that excuse, (Y/N), come on.” 

“Maybe if you actually try to understand me you’ll get it.” 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” she sighed. She laid her back against his bed and closed her eyes, letting the darkness take over. 

“So like what? You’re going to tell the cops, huh? Is that what you’re going to do?” 

“God, can you let me breathe? We’ve just had a long fucking flight.” Her eyes opened, feeling so exhausted from the overwhelming situation. She didn’t know what to do, but fighting with Rafe was definitely not on the list. 

“Whose fucking fault is that?” He mumbled before standing up. 

Rafe exited the room, wanting to get away from her as soon as possible. He could feel it. He could see what was going to happen. He thought of this exact moment, but he didn’t really want to act on it out of fear. 

He wasn’t sure if he would ever hurt her.

Sometimes he felt like doing it, but he just couldn’t. Everytime her eyes set on him, he felt like seeing her for the first time again. 

“Hey, I’m sorry.”

(Y/N) wrapped her arms around Rafe’s waist as he stood near the railing of the porch. The sun was setting in, and it would look so mesmerising; just them two, but the feeling was long gone. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered, and breathed into her scent. 

His girl. His. 

. . .

(Y/N) was sleeping right beside him. 

She looked so peaceful, her hair fixed to one side and her chest heaving slowly. 

He couldn’t help but place a soft kiss on her temple. 

She shifted, groaning slightly. 

Rafe panicked, “Shit, I’m so sorry, baby. Go back to sleep.” 

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” She grunted, shifting her position to face him. “It’s midnight.” 

“Can’t sleep.” 

(Y/N) sighed, and pulled him close to her. “Go to sleep.” 

He smiled, laying his head against her chest now, and he could feel her heart beating. 

A few minutes after, he felt her poking him. “You’re asleep yet?” 

“No.” 

“Wanna go swimming?” 

“Where?” 

“The beach.” 

Rafe smiled, “You’re not tired?” 

“Am tired. But you can’t sleep.” 

She guided him to the exit, her hair messy from her slumber before. The moonlight glowed from above, illuminating the pathway to the beach behind her home. 

They sat on the beach for a while, just staring into the never ending landscape, until Rafe pulled her close again. 

“I love you.” 

(Y/N) smiled. “I know.”

She couldn’t. She just couldn’t utter it back. 

He removed his shirt, revealing his toned figure, and pulled her up her feet. She giggled, removing her own tank top and shimmying out of her shorts. She was completely naked now, and allowed herself to be pulled into the water. 

Strange enough, the water was not too cold or too hot. Just perfect. It was like the night was made for them. 

She giggled when Rafe pulled her further into the darkness, and a sudden thought of a strange creature in the water occurred to her. 

She reached for Rafe, her eyes trying to see through the water even though it was nearly impossible. 

Rafe laughed, holding her tight. Her chest was all pushed up against him, and he had never looked at something more beautiful than her. 

“We’re gonna die.” 

“Probably,” he rolled his eyes. “Maybe there’s that dinosaur from Jurassic World down here.”

She hit Rafe from the sudden thought of a monster underneath her, and went to swim away. Rafe laughed again, pulling her quickly by her wrist and letting her lay against his chest again. 

“I’m kidding. I’ll kill a monster for you.” 

They stared at each other again, breathing in each other’s presence, and finally, he closed in the distance. 

She melted into the kiss, feeling so good she never wanted to let go of that boy. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close, and it was all so perfect; 

Like something out of a book. 

“You’re perfect,” he whispered. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, admiring her eyes, and placed another soft kiss. “So, so perfect.” 

(Y/N) smiled, always loving this side of Rafe. The side she knew before he. . .

She made to move away, but Rafe grabbed her again. He sighed, “What is it?” 

“I have to go,” she mumbled, and swam towards the beach. Rafe pulled her again, still so unsatisfied, because the moment was perfect, right?

They were kissing, he was telling her that he loved her. 

What else could he do? 

“What did I do?”

“Rafe, just let go,” she said, and pried her hands away. 

This time, he let her go. 

. . . 

Rafe thought it was finally time to make it right again. 

His relationship was getting rockier, and he intended for a smooth ride again. He straightened the dark blue suit he got from Chapel Hill, eyeing his watch from time to time. 

“Hey,” (Y/N) smiled, brushing her fingertips along his face. 

The gazebo was set exactly like the first time they met; all bright with fairy lights and smelled of floral candles. Her breath hitched at the sudden memory of that night. 

“You don’t have to do this,” she said. 

“I want to,” Rafe shrugged, helping her to her seat. He brushed her hair for good measure before going back to his seat. “You’re okay?”

She shifted uncomfortably, “Yeah.” 

They ate in silence. The only sound came from the clanking of the cutleries and the plate, and the constant sipping of the wine. 

Okay. Maybe what she did was wrong. 

But he’ll get out of it, right? 

He got money, the best lawyer in the states, and a high position. 

They wouldn’t put him through the death sentence.

Right? 

“I think it’s time,” Rafe said suddenly. (Y/N) looked up from her plate, her heart thumping wildly. Her eyes scanned the lake, and back to him. 

Rafe walked towards her, his mouth forming a bright smile. He reached for his pocket, pulling out a white box-

No. This couldn’t be.

(Y/N) won’t accept this. 

She simply just won’t. 

They’re too young. 

Too afraid. 

“No,” she said, scraping her chair to the back. “No, Rafe.” 

Rafe’s smile disappeared, his eyes turning low. “What?”

“No. I, I- I won’t accept it.” 

The diamond ring glimmered under the lantern, and (Y/N) noticed something similar from it. 

Her breath hitched.

Of course it would be the same promise ring she threw at him last year. Except it was updated. 

“It’s my mom’s ring,” he took a step closer. “What’s wrong? Don’t you want this?” 

More than anything. 

Her chest heaved, and she quickly put her hands up before him, as if protecting herself. “Rafe, I can’t. I’m so sorry.” 

He took a step closer, because god, he was so, so confused. He loved her more than anything in the world; more than himself. 

He was unsure about a lot of things, but not this. 

“Rafe,” she warned, still putting her hands up. “Please? I’m sorry.” 

“I don’t understand?” He whispered. His eyes were now filled with tears, and (Y/N) used all of her energy to stay away from him. 

For her own good. 

“I just can’t.” 

She stole a glance at his watch. She glanced at the lake again, her heart beating wildly. 

“Did I do something wrong?” 

“No,” she said. His forehead creased, and the tears were now completely wetting his suit. The ring was still left untouched in the box, still glimmering in the hope to be wrapped around someone’s finger. 

“Is it because-” he whispered. “Is it because of JJ? Did I do something wrong?”

“Rafe, stop,” she shook her head. “It’s not anyone’s fault. Let it go.” 

He took a deep breath. The box closed with a snap, and Rafe kept it back securely in his pocket. He held his head, walking away from her, muttering curses incoherently. 

“We can still be together.” 

“Fuck off,” he laughed. He pressed his back against one of the railings, closing his eyes and admitting to the darkness. His head felt light, and his fingers were trembling. 

“Rafe-” she walked towards him, placing a hand against his cheeks. He leaned into her, feeling her warmth, and didn’t try to stop the tears from falling. “I’m sorry, okay?” 

It was like falling down from a cliff; too fast, and everything happened in just a blink of an eye. 

Lights were coming from all directions, hitting them squarely on the face. Rafe protected his eyes from the red and blue lights, groaning, all the while searching for (Y/N). 

But she wasn’t there. 

“What the fuck?” He said to no one in particular, looking around wildly. Whatever the reason was, the police were coming to him; straight and fast. He knew he didn’t have time to reach for his car, not without (Y/N). 

“We’re not going to hurt you, son,” a voice bellowed from the lake. Rafe tried to see the figure, but the light was too blinding. “We’re going to make it fast and easy.” 

“What did I do?” He said, still trying to keep his cool, but it was failing miserably.

Anyone could see that Rafe Cameron was scared. 

Maybe it was the rejection from earlier. He didn’t know. What he was sure of was; he wanted to get away. 

The gazebo was guarded by the police now, and (Y/N) was nowhere to be seen. He sighed, taking a seat on her chair and grabbing the wine bottle. He downed the content, his heart beating wildly and his forehead clammy. 

It’s time. 

. . .

He had never felt this painful before. 

His head was throbbing, and his chest was soaring with agony in all the right places. He trembled as he sat up straight, trying to clear off his blurriness. 

It failed miserably when he reached for the toilet bowl, emptying his already empty stomach for the third time today. Rafe was sure 98% of the vomit was his bile, and he wished for nothing more than death. 

Everyone does this to him.

Every. Single. Person. 

Ward tried helping him, hiring the best lawyer in the United States of America, but the chances for him to be freed were low. So, so low. 

They told him that he did multiple offenses in one go.

He couldn’t name any of it, and he has accepted his fate anyways. He didn’t see the point in living when the girl he loved was no longer there in the light. 

His memory was fading really fast, and everything that happened around him seemed like a dream. He wanted to reach reality, but he wouldn’t allow himself. 

“Cameron, you got a visitor.” 

“Tell Ward that I’m okay with getting killed.” 

“It’s not your papa, boy,” the police sighed. “It’s a girl.” 

His head perked up at ‘girl’. Maybe it was Wheezie, coming to see how fucked up her brother is. He bit his lips, stopping the incoming tears from the thought of Wheezie alone. 

He followed the officer down the jail, his eyes scanning the other cellmates. Some jeered at him, knowing him as the ‘rich boy who never got himself into jail because of money’, and loving the fact that Rafe Cameron was finally getting the treatment he deserved. 

Rafe sat in the empty room, his eyes staring at the bent part of the metal table. He remembered this room clearly; the room he was forced into questioning and had seen him cry until there were no tears left to cry. 

He waited a few more seconds, only hearing some noisy sounds coming from the old air conditioning. 

“Okay, thank you.” 

His head turned to behind him, hearing her voice so clearly now that his heart was soaring again. He watched as she entered the small room, not looking at him, and placed herself before him. 

“Hi, Rafe.” 

Rafe stared at her, not saying anything. His thumbs were fiddling with each other under the handcuffs, and his legs were shaking wildly. 

He had missed her more than anything in the world. 

She looked so much healthier; her hair was up in a ponytail, and her cheeks were rosy and bright. 

She didn’t look miserable like him. 

“How are you?” 

What a stupid question. 

“What do you think?” He asked, tilting his head to one side. “Are you my therapist, or something? Did Ward hire some kind of a prison therapist to help me stay positive until the day I’m hanged?” 

She sucked in a breath. “Rafe, I’m trying to help you.” 

“Congra-tu-fucking-lations,” he smiled. “I’m getting the death sentence. Would you care to watch me getting hanged tomorrow? It'll be like seeing me play volleyball on the beach like last time.” 

Oh god.

She didn’t know.

How could she? 

They told her that everything will be alright, that he will be released after paying a large sum of money. It would be unfair to the sheriff, but at least no one is getting killed at the end of the day. 

How could she be so fucking naive? 

“I didn’t know.” 

He laughed, “It’s okay. Would you come and see me though? It’ll be a damn pleasure.” 

“Rafe, stop,” she said, clutching onto the table. “You’re not getting hanged, okay? I’m sorry. I’ll get you out of this.” 

He softened, finally realizing what he had been saying. He sighed, still fiddling with his thumb, and looked at her again. “There’s nothing else left to do. We did everything.” 

“No, no, I can fix this-”

“(Y/N),” he sighed. He placed his cuffed hands on the table, asking for hers, and she gladly accepted them. She bit her lips, failing to stop her tears now that she felt him around her again. 

Her sweet, sweet boy. 

“It’s okay,” he said. “I accepted it. It’s my fault. There’s nothing you can do.”

There was a knock on the door, and (Y/N) jerked slightly from the sudden commotion.

3 more minutes. 

“It doesn’t have to be this way.” 

“There’s no other way,” he whispered. “But you will always be my love, okay?” 

She held him in her fingers now, caressing his face. She ran his fingers over the new scratches on his face a few times, soothing the pain down, and placed a soft, longing kiss on his lips. 

He kissed her back, feeling better slightly, and only pulled away when the second knock rang throughout the room. 

“Yes, by the way.” 

“What?” He asked, confused. His eyes were teary because god, he wished he could do better for her. 

For them. 

“Yes to marrying you.” 

He laughed. What a stupid thing to say a day before his death sentence. But he loved it. More than anything else in the world. He softened, “I don’t have the ring.” 

She guided his hands, sliding an imaginary ring over her ring finger, and she examined it admiringly under the white light. 

“Thank you,” he said. 

It was brief; their moment of happiness, but it was enough for Rafe. He couldn’t think of anything better than this, knowing that the love of his life had accepted to be with him.

(Y/N) pulled him in for another kiss as the last knock blared, and they stayed in that position after the door was opened, revealing the same officer who had brought her in. She gave (Y/N) a warm pat on the back, allowing her to give Rafe another long, last kiss. 

He could still taste her when she walked out, her eyes all wet now, her mouth whimpering. 

He put a hand up, waved it slightly to the right, his own eyes glassy. 

“I love you,” he mouthed. 

. . . 

Rafe didn’t know what to expect the next morning. 

He watched many crime documentaries and movies involving a death penalty before, but he never truly put his mind on what he would be feeling on the walk to the inviting creature called death. 

After (Y/N), Ward came to see him. They didn’t say much, only exchanging a few words of “how are you?” And “I’m okay”. But it was clear Ward Cameron was broken at the sight of his son. 

He failed as a father. 

He wished he could’ve been a better father to Rafe, because god, he loved him too much. He even thought of admitting to the crime, but the crime was too strong on Rafe’s side. 

He gave his one and only son a last, longing hug. They held each other in complete silence, just feeling the moment until an officer came, pulling Rafe away. 

He didn’t even get to say I love you. 

“You’re okay?” 

Rafe looked at whoever was responsible to kill him beside him, and nodded. “Yep.” 

He looked down at his white suit and sighed. “Can I wear something proper?” 

The man pushed him into the room, annoyed at his impulsive words. 

This boy just killed a goddamn sheriff, and he was still joking? 

“Rot in hell,” he told Rafe, to which he accepted the remark willingly. 

The executioner motioned for him to step on the tool, and Rafe thought about the simpler times in his childhood where he was told to stand on a stool in middle school by a teacher for kicking on a boy who touched Sarah on her newly washed hair. 

He couldn’t even remember the last time he saw her. 

The executioner, blinded by the black cloth around his head, looped the rope around his neck, and Rafe involuntarily swallowed his saliva. 

He looked down at his fingers, imagining his wedding ring. He smiled, looking up to the ceiling, watching as the white light blinded his eyes. 

Maybe in another life. 

-

@okayshoto @joselyn001 @onceuponateenagetrash @dyingsleeping @iwannabeapogue @meaganjm @rafesobxs @flossy2929 @unfortunatekiwitrash @scottybitch @asimpwriter @amaya124 @tommy-tommo @thatshithurted8 @fallincindy @marvelwhor3 @rafeswh0ree @kookap @supernaturallydc-blog @blank-velvet @alaniskauany @kiiim8 @witchywrter @kaitlyn2907 @heyimflo @overcookedpastasause @tsukkiswifeey @spidey-d00d @anonymousobxfan @gotmeinloveagain @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @lexi-writes @classydragonthingknight @belongtoyou-u @badbussylol @savannah-elliott @angelreyesgirl100 @haterpenny @beehappyyy @alwaysclassyeagle @maybankslut @kayleea122 @clearbolts @lovelyxtom @christianaevans @jemimah-b99 @opierdalacz @dangerdolns @wildflowerliv @classygirlything21 @pogueslandia

[icollectyoursins]

Jotaro Relationship Head Canons SFW

Because I’m a self indulgent little shit and just love to ignore all of the work I have to do, have some Jotaro head canons. I am but a humble simp, and love this man. So much.

Update as of writing this. Somehow, it got very angsty, so... yeah. Sad man vibes. Also rambly. I just kinda kept going.

Wanna know what I’m willing to write? Rules here!

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: None, just angst, but nothing too serious.

Word Count: 2,985

Jotaro’s type is... I mean, it depends, like most people. I don’t think he’s super picky over appearances or things like that, it’s more whether or not he gets along with you and how long he can put up with you.  He’s polite (well, as polite as he can be) and courteous, but probably a little more apathetic when you’ve first met. Once you’ve been around for a while he’s more relaxed and almost a little more critical. Mostly because you’re his friend now and he expects more from his friends.

While I was writing this I sort of realized that he could be aromantic. Maybe it’s just my own aro tendencies coming through, but I thought it sort of lined up with his personality. Or at least from my experience with romantic attraction.

Eventually, though, he’ll admit he cares about you a little more than he cares about others. It comes through in little almost compliments. “You did good. Keep it up” or “good job, dealing with this” are common phrases that sound nice on the surface, but it almost feels like he’s trying to pressure you to do more, which is far from the truth.  

If it’s not awkward compliments like that, it’s awkward gifts. Always something you had briefly mentioned wanting or stared at a minute longer than you usually do, wrapped in a paper that’s your favourite colour or pattern. Sometimes, though, it’s something you’ve never mentioned that he somehow guessed would be something you wanted.

At the same time, though, he’s oblivious or at least acts like he is. There may be times when he goes home after you said something exceptionally sweet to him or that just means so much and he’ll just take a moment sitting at his desk to mull over what you said.

    With a grunt, Jotaro rolled back into the armchair with a cup of tea in one hand and today’s newspaper in the other, since he didn’t get to read it this morning. It’s late with the sun almost completely set, giving his room an orange hue. He tries reading the first column, something about a cat being saved from a sewer grate, but after about a minute, he catches himself drifting away, sort of staring blankly at the paper.

    He blinks hard, taking a long sip from his coffee. He must be tired. Another attempt is made at reading, this time the comics. They’re not his favourite thing, but short enough that he can focus on them. Or so he thought.

    He zones out again, face suddenly feeling very hot.

    He was thinking about you. Or, rather what you said.

    It was something so simple, so mundane.

    You had been talking about family together, exchanging drama, if you will, and he had brought up how his father had left his mother when he was very young. It didn’t bother him, he had said, after all, it was years ago and if he was being honest, he didn’t really need a father. Then, you gave him this look. It wasn’t pity or something like that. You put your hand on his knee, staring deep into his eyes.

    “Jotaro,” you said, voice soft and sweet. You struggled to say the next words, opening your mouth, sighing, then finally: “I’m not leaving you.”

    “Why would you be leaving?” He said, confused, taking it literally. Or, he pretended to be confused. It had made his heart warm with affection.

    What Jotaro hadn’t noticed at that moment was that his eyes seemed to gloss over with wet tears while talking about his father. He wasn’t over it, you understood that. How could he be? He was so young then, he probably didn’t understand what was happening or why and now that he’s a father himself, there had to be so much guilt about being the same way. It was only now that he was realizing how much you had an effect on him.

    It didn’t make him sad, by any means but... loved. He’ll say thank you tomorrow with a gift or some flowers. He hadn’t planned on meeting you for the rest of the week because he was busy, but work could wait, right? Yeah. Tomorrow.

God, it would take so long for him to get you to move in together. He’s so used to living on his own that I think he’s a little self-conscious about it. He’s not a slob by any means, but certainly a bachelor. I mean, he lived (assumedly) on his own from probably around or earlier than DiU right up until Stone Free, so it’s been a while and he’s certainly comfortable with his mess of clothes lying on the floor in the corner, but you won’t be. He cleans up before people come over, obviously, but how many times did he actually invite someone in?

When you start staying around more, he starts cleaning more, which makes him a little frustrated both coming to terms with liking someone enough that he’s actively cleaning for them once a week and also discovering that he’s a lot more gross than he thought. You would not believe how stained the counter was from coffee or how gross the filter was on the coffee maker. He takes his coffee very seriously. You begin to notice how clean everything is, well, how consistently clean everything is and it even starts to smell nicer, more floral and fresh. He bought a lavender air freshener. “It’s supposed to be calming,” he’ll say with a hint of annoyance. It’s not a bad smell to him, better than vanilla air fresheners, but it does give him a headache when he first sprays his place. You seem to like it though, so he’s willing to put up with it.

I honestly believe this man can cook, but nervous when cooking for other people. His food when he was a bachelor was good enough for him and I’m sure Holly would have shown him a lot too, but it’s not the best food. He definitely steps up his game when you’re over and even more so when you move in. He’s better with dishes that have pasta or noodles because it’s easy, but he’s not too bad behind the grill either.

When you guys finally live together, he tries to keep the cooking even, with you cooking some days and him doing the rest, but I honestly feel like unless you are a hazard in the kitchen, you would do most of it.

Jotaro would be like that with most things around the house partly because he doesn’t want you to do all the work if you don’t want to but he enjoys having a little more time to himself to either do work or... yeah, it’s just work. There are a few things that he’ll never make you do because it’s either too hard or he’s built up a routine of doing that thing a certain way and he’s convinced no one else will do it right. Like his laundry. He won’t let anyone else clean his clothes. He tried once and nothing dried right, he swears that his jacket is still damp to this day. You can fold his stuff or hang it up, but he’s running the washing machine and dryer. Also picky about how his office is cleaned.

If you asked and gave a legitimate reason for not doing a certain chore, he’ll do it, but be prepared with an excuse as to why you can’t wash the dishes or fold the laundry. He’s especially resistant if he’s working whether that be gathering information for the Speedwagon Foundation or editing his latest Marine Biology book.

Actually, can we just talk about how much this man hates folding laundry? It’s so pointless to him. Why fold it and put it into neat little piles when you’re just gonna rummage through the drawer and mess everything up? Sure, it looks nice, I guess, but not for long. He was for sure a floordrobe kind of guy, especially in his early years. He knows which ones are clean, it’s fine, just leave it. Of course, he would get better the longer you’re at his place, but still. It’s not that he’s lazy, he’s just busy and putting clothes away takes way too fucking long. (which, honestly, agreed.)

Date nights with Jotaro are... rare. I mean, you live with him, why would he want to go out and pay for something when he could do the same thing at home? They’re nice, of course, but it’s more common for him to take you out to dinner while you guys are on vacation or in a location other than home, because he doesn’t feel like cooking and it’s more special when you’re supposed to go out. Eventually, it clicks in that you are supposed to make each other feel special and will surprise you with an expensive dinner or a short cruise. If you suggest the aquarium he’ll think you’re just saying that because he’s into aquatic wildlife, but honestly doesn’t put up much of a fight and will answer any questions you or anyone else has about the fish.

He does enjoy a good relaxing movie (or documentary) night at home, though. It’s so nice to finally be finished work, settle into your super comfy couch and just chill until he gets tired. Even better when you’re lying on top of him with your head just under his chin. There’s something so soothing about smelling your perfume, shampoo, conditioner, cologne, etc. To just smell you so close to him and feel your weight. Aaah. So nice.

    The microwave beeps faintly from the kitchen signalling that popcorn was done. You trailed out soon after, tossing the bowl to mix around the butter. You smile sweetly at him, leaning down to plant a gentle kiss on Jotaro’s lips before settling into his lap, nestling your head just under his while stretching out your legs. His arm instinctively moves from the back of the couch to drape over your back, rubbing circles into it with his thumb.

    He sighs; relaxed, finally. He allows himself to kiss your forehead, closing his eyes for a moment, just basking in your comfort. When he opens his eyes, he pulls you closer to him, feeling your heart beat almost in time with his. It was moments like these that eased his panic of losing you. You were here in his arms, safe and sound and vice versa. He was safe in yours.

Yeah, he’s a little angsty. But, can you blame him? He’s getting better, though. With help, of course. With you being around so often (and being very adamant that you’re not going anywhere) he’s able to let go a little. He’s not perfect, by a long shot and progress is slow, but it’s the little things like these that makes you proud of how far he’s come.

PDA is common, but a little restricted. When you’re out together, Jotaro’ll always have his hand on your back or shoulder. Hand-holding isn’t really a thing for him, but he will make sure you know he’s there. He’ll kiss you in public, but it’s not nearly as intimate or special as when you’re at home. Still, it’s a sweet reminder that he loves you, seeing as words of affection aren’t really his thing.

I mean, he can express himself just fine, but he still gets a little nervous saying things like ‘I love you.’ It’s more along the lines of ‘I care about you.’ Or, well. “of course, I care about you. You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” Which... thanks. I think.

Kissing him is so nice, so you’re not too mad about him doing that instead of words. When Jotaro kisses you it’s full of a mix of emotions. Mostly caring, but on his rough days, there’s something else there. It could be worry or whatever the emotional equivalent of never letting you go is. You can always tell that he wants it to last a little bit longer. There’s something in the sad look in his eyes when he or you has to pull away. Sometimes he’s overly gentle like he’ll break you somehow, especially if you’re not a stand user or fighting-inclined (whether physical or otherwise). It’s not patronizing, or at least he tries not to be patronizing, he just prefers you safe.

    It started out simple enough. You and Jotaro were just sitting at the table, eating dinner when he got this... sinking sort of feeling. There was something in the silence between you that just sent his mind spiralling. Thoughts of you someday dying too soon for whatever reason or leaving him because he’s not there enough, stand users, car crashes, divorce. They all started to flood into his mind, fabricating that you would somehow be taken away from him.

    “Jotaro? Are you okay?” Your voice rings through; a bright light breaking the storm. He’s been staring at his plate for a while now, his eyes are dry and itchy. He looks at you and tries to say something, but the words don’t come. Is he okay?

    You stand up and walk over to him, cupping his face gently. You rub the dark circles under his eyes while kissing his forehead. Jotaro slowly wraps his arms around you, letting his face fall into your hands. You’re pulled into his lap after a few minutes, running your fingers through his hair next. Finally, he sighs, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

    “Thank you,” he mumbles and though you’re not quite sure why, you still say a quiet you’re welcome, silently soothing him through whatever happened.

If you couldn’t tell, he needs a lot of reassurance. Not so much words, but actions like the snippet above. I mean, he can be as strong as he wants but we all know he’s got some baggage and while he’s able to put it aside, for the most part, I think when you’re at home he’s just a little more vulnerable.

Now, onto happier things! If you like coffee or tea, he will always make you a cup in the morning. Jotaro is a very early riser except on the weekends, so he usually gets that done while reading or watching the news and when you come down, he’ll ask if you want breakfast then make it for you seeing as he’s more awake.

He loves coffee. So much. He might have a caffeine addiction, honestly. At all times of every day, you can see him with a black coffee in hand and a book or phone in the other. He will switch to decaf at some point, but you might have to switch it for him. He’s forgetful when he gets busy.

Sleeping in on the weekends is like heaven for him. The two nights (or more on holidays) that he gets a full nights rest, breakfast in bed and a warm soul to cuddle into. He’s usually big spoon with a hand just resting on your side, but please, for the love of god make him the little spoon once a week. Will never admit it or vocalize wanting it. He just grabs your hand and drapes it over him with a “good night” and then promptly passes out.

He’s a heavy sleeper but doesn’t sleep often. Once he’s out, there is nothing that could wake him up except the fire alarm or something like that. It just takes a while. Not because of trauma, but more just internal clock is delayed.

Not a bath guy, strictly showers ‘cause they’re quicker. Most of the time he’s in and out before you can invite him into yours. When you do he’s “reluctant” but showers with you are a favourite of his. He gets his hair washed for him (if he bends down), he can wash you. It’s great.

I don’t think he would want more kids. He’s getting older, busier and just doesn’t think he has the time to care for a baby, even with help. Plus, if they were anything like Joylne or god forbid him when he was younger, he might start greying sooner than he thought. Joylne is a great kid, but... she’s definitely got some of his defiance in him. One kid is fine.

He doesn’t really like pets either, hates when there’s fur on all the furniture. But, if you came home with a stray cat or two, he’s not gonna put up a fight if you say they’re not going to the pound. “Just as long as you take care of them yourself.”

You got him a betta fish once because Jotaro. Fish. Makes sense. He thought it was a little pointless at first. You can’t pet them or play fetch (not like he does those things anyway). All a fish does is sit there and look pretty. You were a little disappointed, but whatever, you’ll take care of it. Then he comes home one day with a 30-gallon tank, freshwater plants and fancy lighting to help them grow which he quietly sets up in the living room. He spent at least a half-hour deciding on where to put it.

A week later, after he’s pleased with how it looks and the tank has been cycled he puts in an order for more fish then lets your betta acclimate to the tank. “There, he’ll be happier in here. The idea of bettas not enjoying or panicking in larger tanks is a myth. He won’t be alone for long anyway. He also won’t kill everything in the tank.” Well, he hopes he won’t, each fish is different. Thankfully, the small school of tetras get along with your betta just fine. From then on, he’s in there once a week, cleaning everything, trimming the overgrowth. It is officially his tank.

[shingia]

DATING SUNA...

in honor of this smexy middle blocker’s birthday, here are MANY hcs about what i think dating suna would be like (as exhaustively as possible) bcs he’s on my mind 25/8 <3

cw : one or two suggestive stuff, mentions of food

— EARLY RELATIONSHIP

• ok so suna would definitely not waste his time dating someone if he wasn’t truly in love

• that’s why it took him a few months to ask you out because 1. he wanted to be sure of his feelings 2. he wanted to be sure of yours 3. he was scared

• he probably acted detached at first, but it was just to compensate for the fact that you had him wrapped around your finger since day 1

• he probably didn’t officially tell his friends that you were dating and just casually kissed you before for his class (lowkey enjoyed leaving without a word while everyone else was freaking out)

• nicknames came after a few weeks, when he ‘accidentally’ called you babe after asking for a kiss. yeah he is that smooth

• because it took him so many months to ask you out, you already knew each other pretty well so he felt comfortable around you very quickly

• and he tried his best to make you feel the same if you were a bit more nervous

• honestly he couldn’t wait for you two to become closer over time <3 he's a sucker for the boyfriend/bestfriend dynamic

— LOVE LANGUAGE

->| QUALITY TIME

• he cherishes every single moment you spend together, even if it’s just for a few minutes between classes

• sure, there are times where you two just hang out at his place or yours, scrolling on your phones and enjoying each other’s company. but tell him once that you want to talk to him about something and you’ll have his undivided attention

• and lemme just kdjqdhvjdmsjvh real quick : eye contact. that’s how you know he’s listening, and he always leans in just enough for you to know that he’s paying attention. no phone in sight, just you.

• he doesn’t need to take you out on fancy dates for it to be called quality time, because he values impromptu face-to-face late night conversations much more than a dinner at the restaurant.

— DATES

• your first date was one of the only dates you spent outside, it was nothing extravagant you just went for coffee after school and ended up walking through the city, holding hands for the first time

• once you guys started officially dating, you realized that at-home dates were actually more your thing. but there needs to be a difference with the rest of the time you spend at home, so you always have one or two things planned like :

• cook together an elaborate meal for once, actually put an effort in the choice of the movie/tv show you’re gonna watch (and not end up watching rick and morty for the 23rd time this week), try the most questionable face masks recipes - he loves them and doesn’t even deny it

• but i feel like you guys might go out for your anniversaries, and it’s a great opportunity for him to take really nice pictures of you and update his phone’s lockscreen (he’s a huge simp)

• your dates often take place in the evening because he loves to see your face illuminated by the city lights, and he likes to know that you might get cold because he can be smooth af and give you his jacket (most of the pictures are taken when you’re wearing it)

• i think official and ‘elaborated’ dates with suna maybe occur every two weeks because he wants them to be special and likes to look forward to them

— CUDDLES

• he gets a kick out of kissing your whole face except your lips, but really he’s just waiting for you to get frustrated and kiss him yourself

• however, if you ever don’t play along he’ll stop like “wtf you’re not supposed to do nothing”

• he’ll give you lazy and passive cuddles where you just lay on top of him, hugging him while he watches something on tv or on his phone, BUT

• if he ever wraps a blanket around you then real cuddles begin. i’m talking scalp massages, back strokes, kisses, playing with your hands...

• i just know his kisses are aphrodisiac, there’s something about the way he holds your head still with his hands that’s just UGHHH

• you could be sharing a perfectly peaceful moment together and he’ll suddenly get bored and feel an urge to tickle your sides, squish your cheeks or randomly blow in your face/ear

• but god forbid you ever do that to him, he will crush you with all his weight until you can’t move

• he also uses your hand to scratch his back because he can’t do it without writhing like a cat, not that you’d complain about seeing that one day

• you two always end up dozing and losing track of time. “we stayed like that for NINETY MINUTES?” (he’d have to find an excuse for being late at practice, because there’s no way in hell he will tell the truth in front of the twins)

• it’s very likely that you guys wake up still cuddling after nine hours of sleep. i mean it’s canon that he has a good shoulder mobility so he can keep holding you even if you’ve moved in your sleep

• his biggest struggle is morning cuddles because it’s really hard for him to get out of bed and go on with his day when he’s so comfortable in bed with you

— PDA

• i think he’d adapt to your needs, he doesn’t really mind pda

• if he ever pulls you in for a hug in public, it won’t always be a soft and sweet hug, no. sometimes it might look like a literal headlock, but he’ll give you a quick peck on the head to make up for it

• in fact the only times his hugs are sweet and lovey in public are after his matches

• if atsumu ever makes fun of him for ‘being a softie’, he’ll do the exact opposite of what’s expected of him : and by that i mean ruthlessly tongue-kiss you until tsumu begs him to stop

• he uses hugs as a way to talk shit to you about someone without them realizing it

• he doesn’t necessarily hold your hand all the time but he has affectionate gestures like giving you little pats on the head or wiping dirt off of your clothes

• pokes your cheek for no reason, and that’s daily

• he’s also a fricken tease and doesn’t have any problem with gripping your thigh when you’re sat at a table :)

— COUPLE DYNAMIC

• he tries so hard to act like you’re the clingy one but everyone knows it’s a lie

• he probably has a private story called ‘being held against my will’ where it’s just him roasting you on a daily basis

• which is a great contrast with all the albums full of pictures of you in his camera roll. like i said, he’s a MAJOR SIMP

• you also have a private story called ‘exposing the truth’ and it’s filled with stolen clichés of him being a needy and whiny little bïtch (sorry i got carried away) : it’s the twins’ main source of blackmail

• i said before that suna’s a sucker for the boyfriend/bestfriend dynamic. yeah well you guys definitely have it - you can spend entire afternoons together without once acting like a couple

• he’d give you a kidney if you ever needed one, but steal one of his fries and he’ll flip your chair over without thinking twice

•  you both think that your failed attempts at being romantic are hilarious. one time he tried to kiss you under the rain but you were so cold that you couldn’t stop your teeth from chattering and yeah it was just terrible

• the efforts you put in to embarrass each other are remarkable. you once kissed him in a supermarket and he just pulled away, yelling “MOM AND DAD SAID NOT IN PUBLIC !”

— RANDOM HCS THAT GIVE ME LIFE

• remember when i said you guys would do face masks together ? yeah well suna doesn’t own any headband which means that you have to tie his hair up in two pigtails at the front (it’s too short for one ponytail or a bun hehe)

• he has a silent laugh, the kind of laugh where he just wheezes while slapping his thighs, and he has to make a conscious effort to catch his breath

• he tugs on your sleeve whenever he wants to show you something <3

• in winter he writes messages on the frost of your car’s windows. nothing cheesy, probably something along the lines of “nice ass”

• he thinks it’s hilarious that your contact name in his phone is your full name, no emojis, nothing. he even put caps at the beginning 

• he sends you 30 tiktoks per day and expects you to answer to all of them

• he makes you playlists for the dumbest things. one of them is called ‘dentist appointment vibes’

• he likes to see you wear many layers of clothing in winter because he takes great pride in being the only one to know what’s hiding under them *wink*

• when he’s driving, he often tries to be smooth and stare at you lovingly when he’s at a red light, but he always misses the moment when it turns green and the other drivers start to furiously honk at him (another failed attempt at being romantic)

• i’m gonna be honest w/ you : he’s probably effortlessly seggsy when he drives

in conclusion : you might not be the most romantic couple, but your vibes are 𝑖𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 because you’re both so madly in love with each other

pspsps: here’s a link to my suna playlist that fuels my mind with thousands of scenarios 

[goldentournesol]

Not in That Way

*gif not mine, found on Giphy*

(Spencer Reid x fem!Reader)

The one where Spencer’s TA falls in love with him.

Length: 3.3k

A/N: VAGUE SPOILERS FOR S15 AHEAD! AGE GAP (10 years). Read at your own risk everybody, very angsty. NO PART TWO’S WILL BE WRITTEN. enjoy :)

masterlist

It wasn’t hard, really. It wasn’t hard at all to fall in love with Spencer Reid. In fact, it was the easiest thing she’d ever done. It came so easily that it shook her to the core.

Really, what’s not to love? He is a badass FBI agent with a heart of gold, he can literally recite almost any book to her on demand, and it certainly doesn’t hurt that he looks like he’s been sculpted by a coveted artist.

She didn’t know though, she didn’t know how easy it would be to be completely enamored by someone. She didn’t know what kind of life she’d be stepping into when she’d applied to become his Teaching Assistant. She’d heard from her peers that there was a part-time professor who had been looking for a TA. She signed up without a second thought, desperate for any kind of connections that could possibly help her with her PhD in forensic psychology. When she’d learned that he was a certified genius whose other job was to be a real life superhero, she hoped and prayed he’d pick her application.

She was over the moon when she found out that he did indeed pick her out of all the students who had applied. This was an opportunity of a lifetime. She’d seen his university ID photo on the website and thought he was attractive, but seeing him in person was almost magical. The camera definitely could not quite pick up on the subtle gold flecks in his irises or the silky sheen of his hair. And that smile. She was sure she could drown in it forever.

After being chosen and going through a number of interviews, Y/N learned just how meticulous Dr. Reid was in everything he did. She helped him create the syllabus as well as build his lesson plans. Over the semester, she would go over his grading since he had the tendency to give students the answers instead of making helpful comments on the papers to make them think and reflect. She’d also learned about his particular aversion to technology, which meant they had multiple meet-ups when he was in town just so she can walk him through certain systems, like the university’s portal system as well as the email. She also showed him how to pose his answers as questions instead, explaining that sometimes, he shouldn’t answer their incomplete thoughts because it's an undergrad class. Also, with his unpredictable schedule concerning the FBI, she would often step in and teach his class whenever he was away on a case.

They’d become good friends outside of his office and classroom, probably closer than they should have been. He was just too likeable and she was always eager enough to hear what he had to say, thus a bond between them was born and reinforced each time they saw each other. He was so thoughtful, it shocked her. Once he’d heard her mention that she used to love collecting keychains when she was a child, and made sure to get her a new one from each state he’d visit thanks to his trips around the country. Her previous boyfriends were beyond disappointing in comparison to say the least, and they weren’t even dating. He knew her favorite coffee order by heart and often had it ready with a fresh croissant whenever they met at the university’s coffee shop and if they were meeting at his office, he’d take them to go. 

It was little things like that that made her fall in love with him. And she knew, it’s not like she didn’t, she just chose to hide it with every cell of her being. Crushing on your professor is pretty common amongst university students, but being a TA and being desperately in love with your professor was a whole different kind of story. 

She already admired his intelligence in class immensely, however hearing his stories from his time out in the field made her heart grow three times the size of normal. His stories ranged from being about geographical profiling, to action-packed anecdotes, and even funny moments with the team.

Was she constantly impressed by him? Yes.

Was she constantly worried about him? Also yes.

Which is why she’d practically made him adopt the habit of texting or calling her every time he landed in DC. They’d been chasing this unsub, Lynch, for months on end and he’d informed her that they were finally close to getting him. The last time they talked two days ago, he was feeling confident. But then it was just silence. He hadn’t texted her, he hadn’t called her. She didn’t even know if he was back in DC. Her mind took her places she didn’t want to go. He’d gotten so good with keeping her updated that this silence was turning her blood into ice water.

She’d left 11 missed calls so far. But she didn’t give up, she was determined to hear from him. The next morning she tried again, holding her breath and squeezing her eyes shut in a silent prayer.

“Hello?” Someone finally picked up, a woman.

“Hello? Who is this? I’m trying to reach Spencer Reid.” Y/N said into the phone, voice clearly on the edge of tears.

“Oh you must be Y/N Y/L/N. You’re Spencer’s TA. I’m Penelope Garcia, I work with Spencer.” She said into the phone evenly, calmly.

“Yes, I am. Did something happen to Spencer? He hasn’t contacted me in two days. Why do you have his phone?” Y/N worried into the phone. She could hear every heartbeat, loud and clear.

“Spencer is in the hospital. There was an explosion yesterday and he hit his head really hard. We found him passed out in his apartment this morning.” Penelope answered. Y/N’s eyes widened and she felt the tears slip from her eyes quickly. The panic began to set in.

“C-could you please text me the address?” Y/N managed to whisper into the phone through her tears.

“Of course, sweetie. He’s going to be okay. His mother is here, I’m assuming you know about Diana?” She asked tenderly.

“Yes, yes, I know. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Y/N said, already rushing to put on shoes and looking for her keys.

The drive to the hospital wasn’t long, but Y/N felt like it took ages to get there anyway. Her breathing was uneven and her eyes were already swollen as if she’d been crying for days. There was a bad, bad feeling reverberating around in her chest. She’d somehow floated through the hospital like she was running on autopilot. 

She’d found the room and met eyes with a blonde woman adorning two identical blue puffs in her hair. She would have thought they were adorable if she wasn’t panicking her heart out. She spotted Spencer laying on the hospital bed with oxygen tubes hanging around his ears and inserted into his nose. The sight made her stomach lurch. Something about the way his usually pink lips were drained of their color made her want to sob until tomorrow came. Beside the bed on the other side sat Diana Reid, a tall woman with short blonde hair. She’d seen her in photos before. Diana merely stared at her with a hint of a smile.

She stepped in the hospital room, swallowing down the bile in her throat, “H-Hi, I’m Y/N.” She waved tentatively into the room, almost unable to keep with the tensity of the two women’s gazes. She wiped at her eyes and stood at the foot of Spencer’s bed, “Is he going to be okay?” She asked, staring at the steady rise and fall of Spencer’s chest. That way it was reassuring to watch him. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she stood.

“The doctors are hopeful.” Penelope replied, assessing the young woman who just entered. She was much younger than she previously thought she was. Although she had no idea what to expect when it came to Spencer’s academic life, he was always surprising her.

Diana sat still and silent in the hospital chair, a pensive expression draped across her features. Penelope sensed a tension in the room and looked towards Diana, “Hey, Diana, would you like to come with me down to the cafeteria to fetch some jello for Spencer to eat when he wakes up?”

Y/N sent Penelope a sidelong glance filled with gratitude. She tuned out the sounds of Diana telling Penelope the story of the first time Spencer had jello as they exited the small room. She immediately pulled up the chair closest to his bed and grasped his hand tightly. She let out a shaky breath at the contact. Cold, his hand was so, so cold.

“Oh, Spencer, you scared the shit out of me.” She whispered, pressing her lips to the back of his hand quickly, “I could have lost you today...and-and I wouldn’t have known what to do with myself if that would have happened. I know you probably can’t hear me, but I still have to say what I’m going to say. I have to. For myself. So here goes,” she pauses, taking a deep breath, “there’s nothing that scares me more than losing you, and that thought alone terrifies me.” She sniffled, wiping away her tears, “What I feel for you terrifies me, Spencer. I didn’t know I was capable of loving someone so deeply until I met you. And...I don’t know what to do with all this love, I want to hand it all to you, let you see yourself the way I see you, but I can’t do that. I can’t.” She held back an incoming sob, whispering, “I can’t ask that of you.” 

She bowed her head and rested it along his forearm, her silent tears soaking through the hospital sheets. The fear of grieving for him outweighed the fear of rejection. She’d never forgive herself if he died without knowing how big of a space he occupied in her heart. She didn’t know if she was brave enough to tell him to his face while he was awake, but this was a start. Solidifying her feelings was a start. And man, were they solid.

A few minutes later, her phone began to ring because of an endless stream of emails. There was a class today, and she’d have to teach it. She went back and forth from her phone to Spencer’s face and released a deep, heavy sigh from the pit of her chest. She stood from her seat and hovered her hand over his cheek before allowing it to rest timidly on his skin.

“I have to go, but I’ll see you soon.” She paused, chewing on her lip, “I love you.” She said softly, fresh tears making their way back to the brim of her eyes. She pulled away from him and exited the room swiftly. 

Spencer’s bleary eyes opened slightly to just barely catch the sight of her disappearing into the hallway from which she came. Seconds later, Penelope and his mother came marching in, seeing his open eyes.

Penelope set down the cups of jello nearby and Diana made her way to her son quickly. He could barely keep his eyes open for long enough. It was a small achievement but they both held onto it dearly. 

Hours later, he blinked his eyes open again as he heard his mother and Penelope conversing about his favorite type of cloud. Diana leaned over her son’s bed and set a comforting hand on his shoulder. He stared at her fondly.

“Am I alive or is this heaven?” He asked, smiling slightly.

“You are very much alive.” Diana smiled broadly at him.

Garcia had since gone back to the office to assist the team in finally closing the Lynch case. Spencer was just waking up from yet another snooze. 

Diana looked at him closely, sometimes he felt she was the profiler in the room, “She told you didn’t she?”

Spencer rubbed at his eyes slightly, “Who are you talking about?” He yawned.

“The pretty girl who was in here earlier.” Y/N’s name had slipped her mind the second she said it. Spencer stared at his mother incredulously, shocked at just how clear her mind was at the moment. Diana took his silence as an affirmative and nodded at him.

“You should tell her.” She said definitively. For a moment, he doubted if he understood just what she meant, but he understood.

“How did you know?” Spencer asked curiously.

“I told you, a mother always knows. And I saw the way she looked at you. She deserves to know, Spencer.” Diana said.

She deserves to know.

The thought tumbled around in his head for days after he was discharged from the hospital. He was on medical leave for the moment but as soon as he could see straight, he took the train to her apartment. He’d been there a few times, they’d had a few casual dinners there while grading papers together or coming up with future lesson plans. His hands were on the verge of trembling as he knocked on her apartment door. The numbers nailed on the door mocked him as he stood waiting for her to open.

She frowned at the sound, she wasn’t expecting anybody. She pushed her laptop to the side and stood to straighten her pajamas, making her way to the door. She ripped it open as soon as she saw who it was.

“Spencer! Oh thank goodness you’re okay! I’ve been worried sick about you.” She threw her arms around his middle tightly, making him stagger a bit from the impact, but he enveloped her in his arms anyway. The contact was very welcome.

“Hey.” He smiled into the hug, his heart spilling with gratitude over being worthy enough of her attention. They separated from the embrace and she stared at him with a look resembling wonder.

“What are you doing here? I thought you still had a few more days off until you had to get back to work. Come in, come in.” She moved aside to let him in. She also moved a plethora of blankets and textbooks off the couch to make space for him to sit.

“I know, I’m sorry for kind of coming over unannounced. I didn’t mean to intrude or anything.” He eyed her matching set of cartoon character pajamas as he took a seat, making a mental note that it was the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. She blushed under his gaze but shook her head nonetheless.

“Oh come on, you know you’re always welcome here. Can I get you something to drink? Some water or coffee, maybe?” She asked.

“Water’s fine.” He smiled, leaning back into the couch. She nodded and made her way into the kitchen. Spencer’s shoulders untensed for a moment and he hadn’t realized that he’d been carrying so much of his worries in them around her. She came back with the water and took a seat next to him, angling her body to face him. He muttered a thank you as he sipped from it, unsure how to approach the situation.

“I wanted to thank you. For coming to the hospital to see me. That meant a lot.” He met her eyes and saw a flash of panic dance across her irises. How did he know she was there? Penelope probably told him, right? He couldn’t have heard her.

“Of course, Spencer. It’s the least I could do.” She smiled sweetly. His heart cleaved in his chest as he stared at the sweet girl in front of him. 

What did he ever do to deserve her friendship? 

He fidgeted with the glass in his hands, a silence beginning to drape over them.

“Is everything okay?” She asked, noticing his fidgeting. 

He took a deep breath and set the glass down on the coffee table in front of them. He turned his body to face her and reached for her soft hands. Her breath hitched at the intimate contact, butterflies erupting in the pit of her abdomen.

“You are a remarkable person, Y/N. I’m so lucky to have you in my life. I see the absolute worst that humanity has to offer on a daily basis, but you have made it your mission to make my life easier. And you do, honestly, I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” He said with soft eyes and a half-laugh. She smiled back, she could practically feel the rush from his words directly in her brain.

“And it is an honor to be loved by you,” his voice hesitated to say the word, his eyes darkening with regret as he continued. Realization snapped into place for her as he said, “but I can’t give you what you need.”

He had heard her. He knew.

Her blood ran cold as she tore her hands away from his, as if the skin on his hands had the ability to burn her. He frowned as he watched her frantic eyes search his for any semblance of dishonesty. Her throat closed up over all the words that fought to surface. She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came up. Instead, tears sprung to the corners of her eyes.

“What?” She whispered, brokenhearted and momentarily in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He tried to console her but she was past the point of consolation. 

“I-I understand.” She nodded painfully, tears cascading down her face before she even got the chance to wipe them away, “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said anything, it’s completely unprofessional.” She swallowed an incoming sob as best as she could.

“No, I’m glad you told me, but if I’m being honest, I knew long before it. This isn’t about professionality, I don’t care about that. But I care about you, a lot.” Spencer said softly, staring at the young woman in front of him. She shook her head, utterly devastated and doing her best to shield herself from his gaze. Thoughts escaped her as her heart took a deep-dive to settle in her abdomen.

“And I thought I should let you know how I feel. I love you, Y/N,” he paused, “just not in that way.” The soft voice he used was completely useless against the harshness of the words. 

She tried, she tried her absolute hardest to suppress the incoming sob, but those words just about broke the dam. She rubbed at her eyes, nodding. He tried to set a comforting hand on her shoulder but decided against it. She took a deep breath and stood up from the couch. 

That was enough humiliation for the day.

“No, no, I completely understand.” She said, voice wobbly and eyes ringed with red. He frowned up at her at the sight of her being so upset. 

“Will you be okay?” He asked as he stood up from his seat. She laughed slightly, this man had devastated her, broken her heart with a few simple words and still wondered if she’d be okay. That’s Spencer Reid for you. The question made her heart ache and long for him more. His simplicity and good intentions made her question why the world wasn’t kind enough to let her have him.

“No, I won’t. And I probably won’t be okay for a long time. Because I will keep meeting men and keep comparing them to you so, until I stop doing that, no, I won’t be okay, Spencer.” She answered with a surprisingly stable voice. He frowned and nodded.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, stepping forward to cup her cheek and gently use his thumb to wipe the remainder of her tears. Her glassy eyes bored right into his, her lips wobbling at the contact. She then closed her eyes and leaned her cheek into his palm, soaking in his warmth one last time before he tore himself away from her completely and showed himself out of the apartment without looking back.

That was when she allowed herself to fall apart. He heard her heart wrenching cries from behind the door and hesitated, but decided to walk away anyway with a chest heavy with regret.

She will never be enough for him, she thought.

He will never be enough for her, he thought.

[hamsterboos]

Met Him Last Night

I literally speed wrote this in an hour so I'm sorry if this is a mess lmaooo but hopefully this will be continued, we'll see :D If anyone wants to be tagged in upcoming updates to this, please let me know! Just be warned, this first chapter does have (not very specific) details of a panic attack!

Title is from Demi Lovato's Met Him Last Night

Word Count: 2181 Read on AO3 Rowaelin Month Masterlist

Day 17 of Rowaelin Month Prompt: Bodyguard AU

~~~~~

Aelin was just about ready to murder someone, and that someone would most definitely be her cousin.

“Aelin, I’m serious, you need protection.”

She growled as she slammed her palms down on the dining table, loudly, as she stood up. “And I’m serious when I say that I need sleep. This stupid bodyguard business can wait two days for me to hibernate.”

Aedion also stood up, mirroring her stance as he leaned in closer to her. “Your life is in literal danger, Aelin. I hope you understand what that means.”

“It was one instance!” she insisted, pushing herself away from the table and moving to the kitchen to put her empty dinner plate into the sink. She was so exhausted from all the travel she’d done in the last few days that all she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep — dishes be damned.

“One instance of the guy mailing you pictures of you from the hotel and on the sidewalk,” he responded, moving beside her. He was following her on purpose to make sure she couldn’t escape him, and Aelin was pissed off that he knew her so well to do that. “He’s been sending you those weird as hell letters for years.”

“It’s not exactly a trade secret which hotels I stay in when I’m going on book tours, Aedion. You know that.”

“If you stopped posting Instagram pictures with the hotel in the background, then it would be more of a secret considering that you are a public figure now. Besides, it’s only going to get worse now that Crescent City season 1 press shoots start soon. Your face will be more famous than just in the book world, Aelin. People will see articles of the author behind the next biggest fantasy show on television. Things are already bad, and we shouldn’t let it get past that.”

“Okay, fine, but why can’t we talk about this later? My body clock thinks it’s the middle of the freaking night, and I haven’t slept in fifteen hours. Please get out of my face so I can sleep.”

“Aelin, if you don’t take this seriously, I’m going to do it for you.”

“Oh dear cousin, owner of a security company, please do. I don’t have the mental capacity to deal with it, especially now that I’m going to be much busier.”

“You’re so annoying,” he grumbled as he stalked towards the door.

“Love you too!” she called after him, finally, finally, heading towards her bedroom. Fleetfoot trotted after her happily, and Aelin snorted as her dog’s wet snout kept bumping into her bare calves. The dog was way too excited to see her after two long months away from home with Aelin travelling all over the world for the release of her latest book. It wasn’t like she could deny the fact that she had missed her dear, sweet dog so much as well, so when Aelin flopped down onto her soft bed for the first time in months, she let Fleetfoot join her.

Fleetfoot circled the same spot three times before curling up against Aelin, her tail slowly thumping against the mattress as Aelin got comfortable as well. The feeling of warmth from her dog and the happiness from being in her own bed after so long had Aelin falling asleep faster than she normally did, and she was just about entirely asleep when she barely heard the click of her front door opening.

Figuring it was Aedion, she just tried to drown out the sound, not having the willpower nor the strength to move. He could let himself out after taking whatever he had probably forgotten at her place, and Aelin would be happily dozing for the next several hours.

Until a crash broke the haze Aelin was in, and her eyes shot open. Heart pounding in her chest, she looked at Fleetfoot who was staring at the closed door with alarm as well.

Aelin was confused. Aedion was careful to not drop ceramic or glass objects within the house, knowing how much her mother would always be on the two of them growing up to be careful with such things, and it didn’t help that she was still half asleep. Nothing made sense to her.

Slowly getting out of bed, she winced as she stood up entirely, her feet aching after days of standing in heels. Aelin walked over to the bedroom door and creaked it open, and she scanned the immediate vicinity for Aedion, trying to see if he was anywhere near the living room or corridor. When she didn’t see him, she creeped out of her room, trying to be quiet but the sluggishness had already taken over body as she stumbled into the wall a few times. Fleetfoot was at her tail, but Aelin forced her to stay before turning the corner into the living room. If there was glass on the ground, she didn’t want it getting in her dog’s paws.

Once Aelin turned the corner, she immediately stopped, finding the scene in front of her unwelcome and incredibly jarring.

There was a man standing in her room, one that didn’t have the same blond hair she did, and the broken object was a picture frame, the shards of glass littered about on the ground as he gripped a photo of her and Fleetfoot.

Aelin swallowed slowly, the saliva getting stuck in her throat as her mouth went dry, as she realized that a man had broken into her home.

As quietly as she could, she placed a hand over her mouth, trying not to breathe too loudly as she quickly made her way back into her bedroom, herding Fleetfoot with her, and she locked the door to the bedroom. Wildly glancing around, she took the chair from her vanity and jammed it under the door knob so the door wouldn’t open.

“What do I do,” she whispered, scared of her mind as she sat down on her bed. She was shaking, that much was sure as Fleetfoot tried to lick her hands and face in an attempt to calm her down. How was Aelin supposed to calm down when there was someone in her house?

Realizing that Aedion must’ve not gotten far, she lunged for her phone on the bed and dialed Aedion’s number.

“Weren’t you supposed to be asleep?” was his greeting, but all she could get out at first was a shuddering gasp.

“Aedion,” she whispered.

“Aelin? Are you okay?” he asked, his voice immediately alert.

“There’s someone in my apartment.”

“What?!”

“Hurry, please,” she cried, trying to muffle her voice to make it seem that she wasn’t at home. She didn’t know if the man had known that she was in the apartment, but she didn’t want him to find out.

“Aelin, listen to me, you’ll be fine. I’m almost there. Are you still in your room?”

“I, uh, I’m in my bedroom with Fleetfoot. I went out when there was a crash, and then ran back to my room,” she managed to get out. “I locked the door and jammed a chair underneath.”

“Go into the bathroom and lock that door too,” he urged, and she got up to move to the bathroom. “If he manages to get your room door unlocked, then at least you have some more time. I’m almost there, but you need to call 911, too.”

“Aedion, I can’t—” Aelin gasped out, leaning against the bathroom counter after locking the door behind her and her dog. Her breaths were coming in faster, and there wasn’t anything she could do to control the way her eyesight was beginning to blur. “I can’t let him know I’m in here.”

“He won’t find out,” he urged.

“But Aedion,” she cried, “the plates in the sink. He’ll see them, and he’ll know I was home. He’ll know I’m here.” The pounding in her chest had gotten louder than what Aedion was saying, and all she could do was sob into her hands. She wasn’t safe anymore outside, but now she wasn’t safe in her own room.

“Aelin! Aelin, it’s okay, I’m here.”

The next thing Aelin heard were shouts and yells before it got all quiet. She clambered up to her feet, throwing the door to the bathroom open before trying to get the chair back out, but it wouldn’t budge. It was stuck, and her limbs weren’t cooperating. There wasn’t anything she could do, and she tugged at the chair with a cry.

“Come on,” she cried, tugging at it more before it finally came free, clattering to the ground. Unlocking the door, she took a few unsteady steps before Aedion came into view, the man lying on the ground unconscious. Aelin lost all control of her body, and she fell into Aedion’s arm as he ran for her, and that was the last thing she saw before blackness encompassed her.

~~~

When Aelin awoke several hours later, it was to the commotion coming from downstairs. At first, she blinked a few times, trying to readjust to where she was because it wasn’t the drab hotel room view she’d gotten accustomed to, and once her brain was awake enough to process that she was in Aedion and Lysandra’s spare bedroom, she got out of bed and padded over to the bathroom to brush her teeth and her hair. If she was going to show her face after a major panic attack that caused her to faint for a few minutes, she should at least look decent.

Fleetfoot was, thankfully, also with her in the room, and Aelin sat on the ground for a few minutes just to hug her dog before getting up and going to the living room.

As soon as she made her entrance, everyone went silent, the only sound was Fleetfoot’s paws as she went straight for Lysandra to nose at her for treats.

“Okay,” Aelin swallowed. “I get it. I need a bodyguard, but at least that guy was arrested,” she continued, hopefully. Aedion beckoned her to sit next to him, and it was then that she realized that besides her cousin and his wife, Elide was also there and a man that she’d never met before. He was striking, to say the least. Silver hair with a sharp jawline and beautifully green eyes. His short-sleeved shirt also showed off swirls of tattoo creeping up his bicep, and Aelin had to say that she was intrigued by who this man was.

“Look,” her cousin started, directing her attention back to him. His face showed concern, and she was suddenly worried that this entire ordeal might not be over. “That man wasn’t the same one who stalked you. He was just a burglar trying to score after noticing that no one had been going in or out of the apartment for a while. It just helped that the security guard downstairs is of no use, so he broke in.”

Aelin was having a hard time processing all this information being thrown at her. “So you’re telling me that it was just...unlucky?”

“I have been telling you to move,” he unhelpfully added, and she let him know exactly that.

“Anyway, we’ve come up with a solution,” Elide butt in. “Aelin, meet Rowan Whitethorn. He works in Aedion’s company. He was working for a different client for a few years, but they switched companies, so he’s now free to protect you.”

“Hey,” she greeted without any of her previous enthusiasm.

“Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Galanthynius,” Rowan responded, and she noticed the slight accent to his words.

“Doranelle?” she asked, and he nodded.

“I will be protecting you from now on, uh, in a close manner.”

Aelin slightly jerked in her spot at his shy demeanor over his words, and the way he said it caught her attention.

“What do you mean?” No one answered her at first, peaking her anxiety again. “Aedion?” she asked, looking to him for an explanation.

“Since it’s also not safe for you to be at home alone, we’re going to have Rowan pretend to be your boyfriend.”

~~~

Aelin stepped out of the car, hand placed in Rowan’s as he led her into the paparazzi filled lot that led to the building where the final press shoots and poster shoots would be taking place for her show. It was still absolutely insane that someone she had written was actually going to be a TV show for the whole world to see, but another absolutely insane thing was the fact that she was pressed up against Rowan’s hard body, trying to pretend to be absolutely in love with him.

“Who is this man?” she heard one of the journalists ask, and she wanted to say that she didn’t exactly know either considering she had just met him last night, but this was the perfect opportunity for the world to know that she had a boyfriend.

Technically.

Smiling, she pulled Rowan to a stop as she turned to the vague direction from where she heard the voice. “This is my boyfriend.”

[mae-gi-writes]

Take Me Back | Sunwoo (The Boyz)

Requested by anon! You broke up with Sunwoo because of long distance and he’s hated you ever since. When you meet up after three years, feelings resurface. 

Genre: angst, ex to lovers au, enemies to lovers kinda, fluffy ending.

A/N: JESUS i know I said that I don’t have time because I LITERALLY DON’T. So don’t ask me why all this inspiration comes to me when I can’t even sit down to write -- I write on the way to and from work, it’s so sad -- so yeah. I hope you enjoy <3 <3 

---------

Breaking up because of long distance was one of the biggest regrets of your life. The fact that you had to let him go because it was just getting too hard for your heart to cope was, in itself, heartbreaking. But you figured that it could get better, for the both of you, if you moved on with your lives without being tied at the hip with someone that was a continent away.

Except, the moment you had murmured your silent goodbyes, you had broken down into the most horrible, heartbreaking sobs that had ravaged your entire body. You cried and cried and cried, and wouldn't stop. The tears just wouldn't stop even when you told yourself that it was better this way, that he'd find someone better, stronger, it did nothing to ease the burning pain pulling your heartstrings apart.

One thing was for sure, Sunwoo's behaviour made things much easier. He'd grown distant first, curt and cold and isolating you, though you knew deep down it was a way to protect his own heart from the damage you'd inflicted on him.

But then he started ignoring your messages, spoke rudely whenever you did catch him on the phone. While you tried being understanding the first few times, you soon grew frustrated and annoyed that he'd act so childishly. The man you had once loved with all your heart had now been reduced to nothing but someone who kept digging holes into your heart.

You juggled the thought of asking him whether he hated your guts for what you did. You wouldn't judge him. On the contrary, you'd understand.

But you hadn't. Merely because the thought of losing him forever pained you.

Fast forward three years and here you were, sitting in a restaurant with a group of your high school friends, Sunwoo included. He'd nodded curtly at your appearance but did nothing more, causing your heart to squeeze in pain at the nostalgia kicking through your stomach.

"It's been years, Y/N. And you look the same," one of your good friends, Eric, jovially stated with a wink, already down by a few beers.

"Thanks Eric, I'll take that as a compliment."

"Don't go hitting on Sunwoo's ex with him right here," your classmate Raina said, "let's not end this dinner in a fight."

"I don't think Sunwoo minds," you mumbled loud enough for it to reach everyone's ears.

"You're right, I don't care," Sunwoo's voice -- still as deep, still as gorgeously beautiful and rough. An obvious contrast to the iciness of his words like pricks aimed at your heart.

You tried your best to brush off his comment, turning to Raina to ask her about any updates about her love life.

As the night wore on and people fell into deeper conversation, others left with excuses that they had spouses to return to, families waiting for them. Until there's only you and Eric in a corner, with Sunwoo at the bar, chatting up a gorgeous girl that looked like she had just walked out of a magazine spread.

"Still doesn't wanna talk huh?" Eric took a swig of his drink.

You shook your head, "he hates me, Eric."

"No he doesn't."

"Yes, he does.He can't even look at me in the eye without scowling."

"Bollocks. You just don't see it."

"What's there to see?" You scoffed, "if killing me was legal he would've done it ages ago."

Hesitating slightly, Eric takes another swig of his drink before replying, "look, I can't speak for him. But...you'll just have to talk to him yourself."

"Fuck no, I'm not doing that," you crossed your arms over your chest.

"Stubbornness never looked good on anyone."

You pulled out your tongue in response.

"Childish," Eric's eyebrow rose in amusement. Before you could defend yourself though, the said man turned to call out Sunwoo's name and you watched in growing horror as Sunwoo walked over to your table.

"Right," Eric jumped up from his seat as though it was on fire, "Sunwoo, keep her company. I'm off to see my girlfriend."

"What? No--" but Eric was already out of the door before Sunwoo's protests were heard, resulting in an awkward air hanging off your table the moment he turned, causing you to quickly drop your eyes to the beer you were nursing.

"You don't have to stay here," came your mumble.

You felt him shift in his seat before he said, "even if I am, I'm not doing this for you."

"I know," you shot back, gaze flitting up to clash with his mahogany orbs, ones that you remembered held so much love and tenderness before. They were now cold, dark with silent seething anger. You continued, "I know you're not. I never asked you to."

"Then stopping looking at me like that," he snapped, "you of all people should know how tough this is for me."

"Sunwoo, it's been three years--"

"Don't," he cut you off with a hiss, "talk about that."

Rage started to bubble in your stomach, "I don't understand whether you hate me, or whether you’ve just turned into this rude annoying person that nobody can stand.”

He seemed to have been slapped by your statement, stayed silent for a few minutes as he clasped his drink a little tighter.

Knowing Sunwoo, he was probably silently seething from what you'd just said. Your own fingers clenched around your beer, hating how easily he could upset you even after all these years.

When he spoke next, his alto was slightly softer, a little less harsh on you, "I don't hate you."

"Doesn't seem like it to me."

There was a pause in which you managed to recollect your emotions, the anger simmering down to cold remorse at how badly you had left things.

"I'm sorry," you murmured out, avoiding his eyes in case he saw the pain that consumed you, "I know it's not easy for you. It's not easy for me either."

"I don't hate you, Y/N," Sunwoo's alto was gentle this time, without any of the malice of the earlier hour, "I...It just hurts me, every time I see you I can't stop thinking of what we were before. I--" he shifted and you managed to lift your orbs up to his, only to see guilt swimming through his as he choked out, "I miss you."

Emotion tightened your chest. Tears rushed to your eyes, "I miss you too."

You stayed unmoving, your eyes saying everything that your words couldn't. The music boomed around you, filled the empty silence that would've swallowed you whole otherwise.

When you felt your ex-boyfriend move in your peripheral, you glanced at him, noticing for the first time the tired lines around his eyes. What looked like resignation was set on his face.

And then he was pushing his hair back, muttering a string of excuses about how he couldn't do this anymore before he walked right out of the bar, with you gaping at his retreating form.

"Sunwoo! Hey--" you scrambled up to chase after him, stumbling over your feet as you gripped your bag clumsily. Running out into the street to see him already steps ahead of you, you quickly jogged up to his frame, not taking into account the nervous fluttering through your chest.

"Hey, wait! Sunwoo!" You gripped onto his arm and pulled him back. He resisted.

You started blurting things out anyway, desperate to make things right, desperate to take away the pain he felt.

"Sunwoo I'm sorry," you stumbled on as he quickened his stride, "I never--I never meant to hurt you, I-- I thought that it was best for both of us at the time, I didn't--" your words were choked, laced with emotion, "I didn't know how hard it would be."

He stopped so abruptly you almost walked into his back.

His shoulders shook as he spoke, "when we broke up, I couldn't stop thinking. Did I do something wrong? Should I have done more?" He took a breath, "I wasn't living, Y/N. I barely ate. I kept seeing you everywhere I went. It was-- it was horrible," his alto broke at the last word.

You took a step closer. Tentative. Hesitant. Hands tightened into fists.

He continued, "and it never got better. I thought it would. That's what they all said. But three years have passed. Three years and I still feel like I lost the most precious fucking thing in my life and I can't live with myself because of that."

You couldn't feel your heart, which was tightening with pain and sympathy that mirrored his words. Memories of you crying into your pillow as you willed all of your love to disappear, memories of the dull ache stretching across your ribs because you had cried too much.

You opened your mouth, an apology on the tip of your tongue, when Sunwoo swivelled around so fast you barely blinked, his hands finding your shoulders in a tight grip.

"Y/N," His eyes were red and red-rimmed as they searched yours in growing desperation, "look Y/N, what I had-- what we had, I miss that. I miss us. Please, I--" swallowing thickly as his grip tightened on you, he continued, "you can do anything. Anything, Y/N. Break me. Use me. Do whatever the fuck you want but just-- just--" his chest heaved with a shaky inhale, a sob echoing from his throat, "just let me be yours again."

The silence that followed was deafening. You couldn't believe your ears. Your heart beat so loud you felt it vibrate against your ribcage.

His chest heaved, his breaths coming out short and static as he stared at you, waiting, hoping.

There were so many things, so many things you wished to say at this very moment, so many things that you had regretted the moment you had parted ways with this amazing man.

And now, to hear that he wanted you back, that he was still undoubtedly, irrevocably in love with you was enough to bring fresh tears to your eyes as another wave of pure hope crashed through your heart and flooding it with light. 

"Y/N," Sunwoo searched your eyes, "say something--"

You did. Jumped up to press your mouth against his.

He stumbled, hands finding purchase at your waist.

And when he kissed you back, all thoughts flew out of your head only to leave Sunwoo's taste engulfing your entire being like you had never stopped loving him from the first day you met.

It was pure, utter bliss. It was like finding the lost lover that had parted ways with you at sea. Sunwoo's mouth was hard on your own as he moved with the same grace, the same fluidity that left you breathless. His grip tightened, fingers sliding under the hem of your shirt to rest on your lower back as sparks ignited beneath your half-closed lids. Everything came crashing back; the memories, the happiness, the giddy excitement that erupted in the form of goosebumps and electrical sizzles over your limbs whenever Sunwoo kissed you.

It had never stopped. And at this very moment, you wondered briefly why you had forced him away when your heart was still irrevocably his.

One hand coming up to cup your jaw, he proceeded to tilt your head back to suckle onto your lower lip, the action causing a gasp to die in your throat while your hands tightened around his neck, pulling him even closer if that was possible.

Sunwoo's chest rumbled with a choked up moan, tongue darting out to meet yours halfway while a soft whimper echoed through your throat. You tried to match his movements, to kiss back as passionately as he was kissing you. But it was almost like Sunwoo was trying his best to make up for all the time you's spent apart, his mouth permanently pressed on yours and when you turned to catch your breath, he kissed your cheek, the corner of your eye, pulling you into him to imprint another kiss at the base of your neck.

You shuddered with emotion, body lighting up on fire and heat pooling through your stomach. Turning your head back until your noses brushed, your breath caught when your eyes locked, for Sunwoo's gaze was one of fierce, intense affection, as though you were something he'd sworn to protect his whole life.

"Don't," his gaze softened, thumb brushing your lower lip, "don’t ever leave me again, I--” his own lips trembled, "I don't know how...how I'll live with myself if you do."

You knew that words were going to be useless at this point, so you just nodded, biting down on your lower lip as he leaned in and dropped a kiss near your temple.

It was weird after so long, to have his body so close and his scent overwhelming your senses, a reminder of many long nights where you'd cuddled up to sleep on his chest. Just the memory made your lips tilt into a soft amile.

That grabbed his attention, "what are you thinking about?" He murmured.

"About you," your soft maroon clash with his intense dark chocolate, "about how stupid it was to have given up on us, because all this time apart feels like a waste. And I feel so stupid."

"It's not your fault Y/N," he smoothed a hand over the side of your head as his gaze softened, "there were so many things working against us. And maybe-- maybe it was right, at this time."

Your head tilted upwards to watch him. You felt his fingers, absentmindedly drumming against your lower back and igniting a line of sparks up your spine.

He continued, "I wouldn't have known, how important you were to me, how you filled up such a major part of my life--Oh shit. You're crying?" He was quick to catch your incoming tear with his thumb, panic flashing through his features, "Y/N? What is it? What did I say?” 

“Nothing, it’s nothing I just--I’m so sorry I broke up with you,” you blurted out as silent tears trailed down your cheeks. Shaking your head and looking up into his maroon orbs, you impulsively reached up to cup his face with your hands. Lucky, your subconscious chanted. You were lucky to have someone like him.

"Come here,” You didn’t protest when Sunwoo’s arms tugged you into his broad chest -- was it broader? You felt like it was-- before his head rested atop yours. Another softest of pecks was imprinted atop your forehead, then your nose, before he dipped his head for a chaste kiss upon your mouth. 

It felt like a promise. It felt like a message conveyed from him to you, that he wasn’t about to let go, prompted even more when he wound his arms around your frame in a firm, yet gentle hug. 

You pillowed your head against his chest, closed your eyes, and counted all your blessings. 

You were definitely counting Sunwoo as one. And you’d make sure that you wouldn’t be as foolish as to let go of him ever again. 

[luxshine]

Smallish update because I’ve seen some missunderstandigns going on.

Ok, so yesterday was a day. 

I am still reeling of a lot of it, which is why I have not been able to do a transcription of the panel (although the ones I’ve reblogged, made by other people, are very accurate and their only “fault” is not being in my head to know why I had some troubles translating Guillermo’s long answers as he spoke too quickly and too passionately so I had to paraphrase rather than translate literally as I did with the shorter answers, and at some points, I admit my short term memory may have failed me)

I am trying to get the panel off the facebook page to put it on my youtube (With permission from Harlecon’s organizer, Harleyquinnarts, whom you should all follow in Instagram and follow Harlecon on facebook because she’s amazing and made this possible by giving us the space to have the panel. BTW, I have heard that there IS a version already on youtube? If it is, please, please, please, put a link back to Harlecon on it, yes? These small cons deserve all our support)

I am ALSO trying to contact Adrian Fogarty, the dubbing director (NOT the translator, as some people are mis-reporting) who is, in the end, the one who has the answers as to where the hell the “Me too” came from.

Which is the missreporting I;ve seen going around, and which I need to adress.

During the panel, Mr. Rojas went from talking about the “Original” Script to the “DUB” Original Script without making it obvious that there was a different. Understand, for MOST actors, when they talk about the Original Script, they’re NOT talking about the Original English Script. They don’t get that. They get the Original TRANSLATED script, which can be then FURTHER changed by them or the director in order to fit cadence, and lip sync. 

And yes, we come again to my old nemesis, lip sync.

So he said that the original script said “Me Too”, as a reply to Cas’s “I love you”, and THEN Alejandro Fogarty, who has a TON of experience adapting on the fly, and is a very respected dubbing director, changed it to “And I you,Cas” because it fit better Dean’s lip movements.

This DOESN’T mean that Fogarty ADDED the Me Too. IT WAS on the Original DUB Script that Guillermo was reading.

He said that Dean didn’t reciprocate Castiel’s words too, but that was AFTER he said he didn’t HEAR what Dean originally said (Which, granted, could be him misremembering as he admitted he had a bad short term memory). This is not to say that he lied when he said Dean didn’t reciprocate, but that that’ts the reason why two different versions of what he said may be running around. This was when I said that then we had to ask Fogarty about the origin of the dub script “Me Too” as he’d probably be the one who knows.

He also said that while it was a surprise, that the writers had been very subtle creating the story between Dean and Castiel, and that it made SENSE. 

There are a few things I could say here about voice actor culture, but I won’t as it could muddy the issue and I want to wait until I finish the transcription.

What he corrected from my previous assumptions was that there was no Warner Bros quality control. They finish dubbing, then send it to air and as far as HE knows, there’s no WB exec checking the files. He admitted he might be wrong on that, but it’s more probable that he’s right. So IF the “Me too” was added, there would be no final check to stop it. HOWEVER, there has been no request to RE-Dub the line, so we can assume that, now that the horse is out of the barn, WB and CW don’t really care that, in Mexico and LataM, Dean Winchester is bisexual, canonically.

Which brings us back to the REAL question: Where did that Me Too came from?

Now, I want to make clear this I DON’T BELIEVE THERE’S A BIG CW CONSPIRACY TO KEEP DEAN STRAIGHT. What I do believe is that, due to a bunch of mismanagement of the series, PR, confusion of what their demography is, old-boys club mentality AND good ol’ network censorship, they may have ended up accidentally creating the ILLUSION of one.

And to be honest, I preffer to know the ACTUAL truth, which could very well be a rogue dub director (Which, if you check my previous posts, was a possibility I raised, that if there HAD been a rogue dub translator, the director HAD to be on it too), or a different audio version sent from the US.

I’ve seen script captures from the Original English Script that were leaked, and there Dean doesn’t reply ANYTHING. Not “Me too”, not “Don’t do this, CAs”. HE just goes 404,File not found, Being Loved by an angel, doesn’t compute.

So we know that DEan’s answer in english was Ad libbed by Jensen. 

However, we also know that Jensen had to re-record some lines. 

So he could’ve ad-libbed again, something different (Either by choice, or by the director’s request. I frankly don’t know nor care. I just assume that there were two different readings and the “wrong” one was sent to the Latam Translator. Wrong here to mean “not the one that aired in the US”)

And the only way we’re going to get closer to which was it, is asking the dub director, which is what I am trying to do. And I do hope that by now, you trust me enough to know that, IF the answer was “Oh, yeah, we decided that it was more logical” , I’ll tell you straight (Or, you know, organize another panel so that you hear it from the horse’s mouth just as I did with Guillermo Rojas)

Also, yes, Guillermo didn’t say the words “I ship Destiel” or “I am a Heller”. However, he DID say that the ending of the arc of Dean and Castiel having a love story was the closing of the series, that Dean reciprocating Cas’s feelings made it make sense and that it was beautiful. So he is a heller, in spirit if not in name.

ETA: I had to fix Adrian Fogarty’s name as someone pointed out I wrote “Alejandro Fogarty” and this proves that I need at least a week of sleep as this show has broken my brain.

[watchmegetobsessed]

With you - Harry Styles

❄️ FANFICmas 2020 ❄️

Read more about FANFICmas here!

fanficmas week 2! i really hope you guys are enjoying the holiday content! updated the fanficmas post with the title of next week’s fic and im working hard on more content, hopefully i’ll have more time when i finish school next week. take care!

word count: ~2k

masterlist

Getting into a relationship so close to the holidays is a pain in the ass. There are just so much unexplored territory, it makes an already stressful time even harder. What do you buy them? Do you spend it together? Do you take them home to your family? Do they want you to meet their family? There really should be a manual to answer all these questions, because it really works up your anxiety.

When you made things official with Harry just a short month before Christmas, you didn’t think about all these things, but once you were able to see from the pink clouds around you, realization hit you hard. These were all crucial questions and you were afraid to ask them straight. What if you disagree on one? What if you want him to meet your family, but he feels rushed? The two of you only dated for a few weeks before he finally asked you to be his girlfriend. You could jump and scream from happiness, but then you realized what it means for the holidays and now you are stressing out.

Harry however knows you well enough to notice that something is off, so one evening, when you’re on the phone he softly asks.

“Love, everything alright?” you hear his soft murmur through the phone.

“Yeah, why are you asking?” you say, trying your best to sound convincing.

“Because the moment I brought Christmas up you started giving one word answers. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Your heart aches, he is such a sweetheart. You can’t just put it all aside hoping for the best, you need to be mature and just communicate your fears. Hopefully, he won’t think you’re crazy for stressing on such things.

“I’m just… a little anxious about the holidays.”

“Okay, talk to me. What’s gotten you feeling that way?”

“I’m just not sure what we should do.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we haven’t talked about what happens on Christmas. Do you want me to meet your family? Do you want to meet mine? Do we celebrate together or meet after the holidays?”

You hear a soft chuckle on the other end of the call and you huff to yourself. Good to know, he finds it entertaining.

“Love, don’t stress about it, alright? We can talk about it now. But there’s no wrong answer, okay?”

“Do you really mean that?”

“I do. I know it’s our first Christmas together, a kind of important step, so I just want to make sure you’re comfortable with whatever we come up with.”

“You are literally making it so hard for me to comprehend that you’re real when you are so caring and loving Harry,” you mumble in the phone, earning another chuckle from him. Moments like this, when he acts like a real prince charming just makes you unable to wrap your head around the fact that you are dating this man. He is your boyfriend and you are his girlfriend. Unbelievable!

The two of you talk it through and come up with a plan for the holidays. Dinner at your parents’ on the 25th, lunch with his family on the 26th and then ice-skating in the evening, just the two of you.

Now that you have cleared it all, you just worry about one thing: not to do anything during the holidays that would make him want to leave you right away.

Dinner at your parents’ goes by smoothly, it’s not a surprise Harry wraps both of them around his fingers, you were kind of expecting it beforehand. Besides, your mom was already so excited to meet your charming new boyfriend, he doesn’t even have to try that hard through the evening.

Now lunch with his family has been working up your anxiety, but when Anne greets you with a warm hug and some sweet words about how grateful she is to finally meet the girl her son has been gushing about, your nerves fade and you let yourself enjoy this time with them. They are all so welcoming and you really hit it off with Gemma, already making plans after the holidays, just the two of you.

“Already getting rid of me, babe?” Harry teases you softly and you just kiss him with an innocent look.

After family time at the Styles home, Harry drives you home to get changed and pick your skates up before dropping by his house to do the same. You arrive to the skating rink a little after five, the sun has already dipped down below the horizon, the Christmas lights all around the place are setting the mood for the evening.

“I’m warning you, I’m not that good of a skater,” you tell him with a nervous smile as you finish up with your skates.

“S’alright, I’ll look out for you,” he smirks, making your heart flutter in your chest. He holds out a hand for you and you gladly take it, balancing on the blades a little wobbly. It’s been quite a few years since the last time you skated and you surely became a little rusty. You can only hope you won’t embarrass yourself that badly, wouldn’t want such an awkward memory from your first Christmas spent together with Harry.

“Hold onto me all you want, Love,” he tells you when he is already on the ice, helping you step into the rink as well. Your ankles aren’t holding up too steadily, so you take up on his offer and cling onto him for dear life.

You manage to get on the ice without smashing your face against it, so you give yourself a point for that. Harry seems to be comfortable in his black skates, gliding on the ice easily, always looking out for you to help or catch you if you might fall.

It surely takes you time to get used to moving around on the ice, losing balance quite often, but Harry is always quick to catch you just in time, saving you from falling.

“You are getting better, babe,” he smiles at you proudly when you are only holding one of his hands, trying your best to move forward, people passing you in a faster pace, but you are just happy to take it in slower.

“Sorry to hold you back. You can go a few rounds without me if you want,” you tell him, knowing well he would easily be able to circle the rink smoothly like a pro.

“I’m perfectly fine, don’t worry about me, Love,” he smiles at you and he sounds genuine. Returning the smile you try to inch closer to steal a quick kiss, holding onto his hand you manage to reach him, but right before your lips could meet his, a guy speeds past you so suddenly, he scares you, making you jump and easily fall out of your balance you worked so hard to keep all along. Harry’s arm immediately flies around you, trying to keep you steady, but it’s all dead business.

You launch forward, not able to hold yourself up, collapsing against Harry, who desperately tries to keep the both of you standing, but he doesn’t succeed. The two of you fall to the hard ice and though you mostly land on Harry, it’s still painful and you can only imagine what it feels like for him.

“Oh shit!” you gasp when you finally realize what just happened and that you’re lying flat on Harry who is grunting underneath you. “Harry, I’m so sorry!” you whimper, already feeling the embarrassment crawling up on your cheeks, heating them up. Of course you have to be so clumsy to pull Harry down with you when you fall.

Eyes falling to Harry’s face you see that his expression is quite pain twisted and looking down at him you try to find where he hurt himself.

“Wha-what hurts?” you frantically ask as he opens his eyes, staring up at the sky, seemingly holding his breath.

“Don’t panic, Love, but I think my wrist is broken,” he huffs out and you gasp at his words. You carefully get off of him and your gaze finds the hand that’s probably injured, but you can’t see much, his coat and sweater still covering it.

You manage to hold your tears back as you and Harry somehow push yourselves up from the ice and make your way off the rink. He is holding himself up like a soldier, not even whimpering at the pain he is surely feeling, but you can tell it’s painful as hell. You help him change into his boots, then change yourself as well, pack everything up as you head out to the car. This time you’re clearly driving and sitting in the dark car you need to bite into your lower lip to stop yourself from crying, but you are not even the one who is injured.

You just can’t believe he broke an arm because of you. How pathetic are you really? This evening will surely haunt you for years.

You feel Harry’s gaze on you while you drive, and you’re pretty sure he can tell how shaken up you are, but he chooses not to comment on it and you’re more thank thankful for that choice.

You park down at the hospital and walking in you are faced with the holiday chaos of the ER, that basically looks like hell. The place is packed, nurses and doctors are rushing from one point to the other, patients are waiting everywhere, children are crying and it’s a whole mess.

You check Harry in at the nurse station and the nice lady asks the two of you to wait until his name is called. Harry spots two empty chairs in the corner so you make yourselves comfortable there for the wait ahead of you.

He can tell you are blaming yourself and shutting yourself down, but he surely doesn’t want you to think it’s any of your fault.

“Hey,” he softly breathes out catching your attention. “What’s going on in your pretty head?”

You let out a tired and frustrated sigh, rolling your lips into your mouth.

“Just that I’m such a loser, breaking my boyfriend’s hand on our first Christmas together.”

“You did not break my hand, okay? It was an accident, Love.”

“Yeah, but I fell on you and that’s why it happened. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted nothing to with me after this,” you mumble under your breath, but Harry is shocked to hear your words. Moving up his healthy hand to cup your cheek he turns your face to force you to look into his eyes.

“Okay, this is the silliest thing I’ve ever heard from you. Why would I want to break up with you for this?”

“Because… I’m a clumsy loser?” you whisper, feeling the tears stinging in your eyes again. “I’m so not the right match for you, anyone can see that,” you huff sadly.

“Stop this, I hate seeing you doubt yourself. Because it makes me feel like I don’t worship you enough, that I don’t show you enough how crazy I am for you.”

“You are?” you mumble with wide eyes.

“Oh, absolutely,” he chuckles, running his thumb across the soft skin under your eye. “And this is going to be the funniest and best story to tell later. I can’t wait to tease you every year about it,” he smirks smugly at you, and though you want to roll your eyes at him, your heart is threatening to jump out of your chest. He is planning to spend more Christmases with you!

“I’m sorry this is how our first Christmas turned out to be. In a crowded hospital waiting room,” you huff your apology and he just smiles down at you sweetly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“It doesn’t matter where we are. I just want to be with you.”

[wthjillie]

KNB Imagine - Kagami unexpectedly leaves for America for 6 months (Part 1)

a/n: Hey guys! So this is the first time I'm doing this EVER. I've never written anything and posted it on the internet so I hope it doesn't suck too much. This is literally just for fun, I didn't really know what to expect going into this so I just winged it! I hope you'll enjoy as much as I enjoyed writing this!

It's been several months since your boyfriend, Kagami Taiga, left Japan to return to America for a 6 months

He left so suddenly there really wasn't any time to adjust or to process what was about to happen, he practically got up and left his whole life behind... he left you behind..

The first month was alright, you and Kagami would video call as much as possible

But because of the time difference, you would mostly be in class and secretly have his video call on, even if he was asleep

He would do the same for you, when he was in class or working hard at basketball practice, he would have your video call on just so you two could feel that much closer

However, phone data bills were starting to shoot up and your separate routines began to conflict one another

From video calling almost constantly, it started to be 30-minute phone calls twice a day (if you were lucky to catch each other at a good time). But because of long distance connections, you and Kagami would only get a couple short sentences in before the line was cut or disconnected

Daily phone calls became weekly phone calls which eventually became bi-weekly phone calls

Messages started to be less detailed and not as exciting, replies would only reciprocate the energy of the message it received

Eventually, almost all means of contact and communication stopped

You felt powerless, like there was nothing in this world that could close the growing gap between you and Kagami

You would occasionally send hopeful text messages and quick photos to update your boyfriend on your life in Japan, but more times than not, your message was opened and read but never replied to

Eventually you felt like you didn't have time to stress or to sulk over your boyfriend who always seemed to be more in love with basketball than anything and anyone else in his life

Because you couldn't turn to anyone about your relationship issues, you internalized all that hurt and all that pain that you felt from Kagami

Before you knew it, you started to isolate yourself and draw away from the people you cared about

It started by moving to the back of the classroom, sitting next to Kuroko who would never say anything, but was always looking over to make sure you were doing okay... or at least the best you could

Next, you started avoiding all of Kagami's friends from the basketball team. You always had some kind of creative excuse as to why you couldn't hang out with them or couldn't go to watch their games

Riko and Hyuuga noticed right away that it probably had to do with Kagami, but knowing your personality and Kagami's oblivion, it was hard to approach you, let alone know what to say

Everything suddenly became muted, like life had lost all its colour and you were constantly living in a state of dark grey emotions

It wasn't until Kuroko walked up to you in class one day and startled you when he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder

"Hey y/n."

"Oh hey Kuroko.." you monotonously replied, looking out the classroom window

"There's something important I need to tell you, so listen carefully. But before I do, I need you to promise me you'll remain calm."

You furrowed your brows and tilted your head to the side in confusion, you found it strange that Kuroko was talking this much and was beating around the bush

He was usually super blunt and straight to the point

You nod your head, signalling him to proceed

Kuroko takes a deep breath and sighs

"Kagami is coming back tomorrow."

~~~

a/n cont'd: AHHHH okay that was kind of fun and exciting too! Again, this is literally just for fun, I didn't plan a thing about where this imagine was headed, it all just came out lol so I hope you enjoyed and make sure to stay tuned for part 2 !!! because this post was getting long

[hansoulo]

lead me to the promised land

part two of “Pillar of Salt”

Pairing: Boba Fett/Princess!Reader (she/her pronouns, no Y/N)

Warnings: NSFW - language, kissing, heavy petting, dom!Boba, gagging/choking, marks and bruises of the Spicy nature, hand and finger kink, allusions to canon-typical violence

Word Count: 2k

Gif Credit: (x) by @/tylowen

A/N: good day gremlins i am not very good at updating but i bring u some fun times as penance pls forgive me

༓ series masterlist ༓

7:00 PM: T-MINUS 14 HOURS UNTIL IMPERIAL CONVOY DEPARTURE

You were used to being moved around by other people, poked and prodded and lifted up so that stays could be tied or burdensome headpieces be attached to your head. Shuffled around to smile and be proper, sedated by heavy skirts and perfume. It was a fact of life.

Your dress was unlaced by the mechanical hands of an attendant, the change happening quickly and without fond regard from any party. It was early evening now and the sky peeled itself into a burnt orange. If you closed your eyes, you could almost taste citrus.

“Careful, please,” you whispered with a slight wince as the woman’s thin fingers brushed against your neck, both of your reflections cast warm in the mirror you now stood in front of. They were almost-bruises. Little ghost flower petals. Delicate and pretty, trailing behind your neck and not quite noticeable.

The woman only nodded. Servants weren’t ones to ask questions.

 ⫸ ———————————————————————————— ⫷

3:25 PM: T-MINUS 17 HOURS AND 35 MINUTES UNTIL IMPERIAL CONVOY DEPARTURE

The world seemed to tip on its axis, spinning too fast and not at all. It’d only been a minute, maybe two, but Boba’s words hung out to dry in the summer air and there was nothing else to do but wait for the actions to fulfill themselves. It shouldn’t have been as easy as it was to let him keep kissing you, but you only broke away to warn in a jolted, harsh whisper when his touch became too sharp. “Don’t leave any marks.”

“Are you commanding me?” Boba sneered, his voice slightly cruel as his gloved thumbs rubbed circles into your hip bones. You didn’t bother opening your eyes to look at him, letting his mouth skid over your jaw. Your answering yes or no wouldn’t make much of a difference. You had the feeling he would do what he liked either way. You had the feeling you’d let him.

It was strange, too fast. Too fast because really, what did you know about Boba? Were you even on first name terms? He’d never called you your name, and you’d never called him his. You’d only known of him for a few weeks. Had truly talked to him for even less than that. Maybe you should stay a capitalized Princess and he should be “Fett.” For the sake of clinicality.

Letting him lift you up and onto his lap was most definitely not clinical. “That depends,” you croaked out after a moment, finally looking at his face in your half-stupor. He’d sat you up to face him and you’d gone with, pliable and keening. Being champagne drunk felt like this; like his eyes coal-black and the way he seemed to take up everything in your mind until there was no room for reason.  You traced over the scar on his forehead with a light mouth, knees bowed to nestle closer and every muscle in your body flexing, tensed as if dripped over with sunshine. “Are you going to listen?”

The smile of a predator was the only answer he gave you.

⫸ ————————————⫷

3:30 PM: T-MINUS 17 HOURS AND 30 MINUTES UNTIL IMPERIAL CONVOY DEPARTURE

Men were vile. They had clammy hands that wandered to your thighs at banquet dinners, slimy mouths when they pressed their lips to your hand in greeting. They were all insufferable and you promised never to go near one as long as you could help it. But promises were a boring thing to keep sometimes. They were much more fun to break.

Boba spoke but it was swallowed in your interlocking mouths, hungry and escalating desperate. You were still sitting with—on?—him, too cowardly to do anything more than kiss and let yourself be felt by the strength of a man’s greed. He tasted like teeth and blood and pink flesh. That was the thing that no one had ever told you about kisses; about men like him. They tasted like broken skin. 

You were eating Boba whole. He was eating you piece by piece. 

You were just kissing. Had been just kissing for what seemed like ages but was actually only fifteen standard minutes. Fifteen standard minutes for your stays to be dragged loose, your lips to be bitten plush, and both sandals abandoned somewhere in the slow scramble. It wasn’t so much desperation as it was just a sheer curiosity goading your irrationality, but the end result was the same: a man squeezing the back of your neck, calling you lovely in the same breath he called you naive. 

“Take them off,” you almost demanded, pulling desperately at his gloves as the warm leather dragged against your fingernails. Learned manners were added in as an afterthought. “Please.”

His one-handed grip on your thigh tightened. It would bruise, likely. Raise questions, definitely. You would have to chalk it up to something else. A fall. A bad trip on a set of stairs. Anything besides what was happening now. The words rumbled against your chest and registered vaguely as a threat. “What was that?”

Huffy and impatient, you answered in a much more keening, undignified echo. “Please, pleasepleaseplease—”

Boba put his fingers in your mouth.

Boba put his fingers in your mouth.

Stuffed was the more apt word. You tried not to think about how he could only fit two of them inside without hurting you. It made you feel temperature-hot, physically burning until your cheeks and your insides twisted into smoldering ash because his fingers breached the alabaster edges of your teeth until they almost gagged you on your own tongue. Boba drew his hand back only when you sighed around it, sedated with fluttering eyes and no longer asking questions. His voice seemed to get deeper, raspier around the unplaceable accent from a place you’d never heard of and probably never would. “Good girl.”

The gloves stayed on. Why they did and why you couldn’t just get him to do what you wanted like everyone else you had no idea, but your frustration quickly ebbed into hazy, sparking pleasure. He called you good. You liked being good. 

Your hips stuttered when they caught on Boba’s trousers and suddenly you were giggling into the thick muscle of his shoulder, quiet and juvenile in your own disbelief. Everything about this was absurd and inappropriate, which formed the basis of your amusement. It was something to play with. Someone. Big and shiny in the most literal sense of the word. 

The hunter let out what could be construed as a laugh but sounded more akin to a growl and two large palms settled again on the soft rise of your hips. “Not here,” he repeated into your jaw, the words that were previously muffled so long ago now clearer. Not here. Which implied a theoretical somewhere other than here where you would possibly, hypothetically be doing more than- “We need to go.”

You should go. You should be pushing him off of you and running and screaming or something equally inflammatory because this was… because his...

“No,” you protested weakly with a slow shake of your head. Your hands curled around his pauldrons and rested there, limp and slightly shaking. “No, they- they didn’t actually need me for anything. My father just had to—oh Maker-” his cuisse plate pressed up hard between the warm softness of your thighs. “—had to send someone out to search for me—” you rutted against his leg once, twice before the arms around your waist tightened again and inhibited any further attempts at movement. You recovered from the loss of friction quickly, instead letting yourself sag into his solid chest as one set of fingertips dragged along your spine. “—’s just a poor look for him not to,” you finished flippantly, barely audible from where your face settled smushed against the creep of stubble on his cheek. “Bad press.”

“I’ve still got places to be, princess. Even if you don’t.”

“Oh I’m terribly sorry,” you tried replying sarcastically as his mouth flattened against the thin skin of your neck. His lips were soft, but they pressed against you like anything but. You tried rolling your hips again but were thwarted. “Am I in the way of a prior engagement?”

“Something like that.”

“Well then,” you flattened your palms against his chest plate and broke away from the seal of his touch. It wasn’t fair. You couldn’t breathe right and looked like you’d been dragged through a sarlacc pit, but he was just sitting there. Watching you. His eyes were hungry though. “Why let me keep you?”  The words were shot through with airy exhales as you were lifted up off the smooth stone. “I was under the impression that you hated me,” you continued into Boba’s neck with hands curled around the dark curls at its nape.

You did think that, before… this. Now you didn’t know what to believe, what his intentions were. Most likely they were the same as yours. Nothing good.

Whatever either of your motivations were, they would have to be paused now. For his mysterious, vague “engagement” and probably for the betterment of your health, because you were certain if you stayed here with him, shielded away from prying eyes and marching men, your heart would burst right out of your chest and through your ears. 

Your legs wobbled slightly when he set you standing on the ground, Boba’s helmet still laying on the fountain’s edge, and you handed it to him with a reverence that belayed the previous minute’s informality. When it was restored to his head you found yourself mourning the loss of his face. You’d been spoiled this last hour. You didn’t like not seeing it anymore.

“I don’t.” was his short reply. What a wordsmith. 

“Aren’t you still my escort?” you huffed, trying to catch your breath. Your chest rose and fell in panted inhales. Wiping haphazardly at your mouth, you leaned over the fountain’s reflection and attempted to compose yourself. The circlet usually pinned neatly to your head lay crooked and loose, glimmering its delicate metals in the daylight as you fussed with it this way and that. The pool of water currently acting as a mirror rippled too much to be of any real use. You pressed your palms to your flushed cheeks and mumbled. “My penitentiary guard, more like.”

Boba turned you around to face him with his hands on your shoulders and you imagined his eyes to still be edged in charcoal embers. The last smudge of lipstick on your chin was rubbed away by a broad thumb and you watched, curious to his intentions and surprised at his actions, when he reached up to right your crown.

“Let’s go, princess.”

You didn’t argue. You’d been sated from rebellion for the time being.

 ⫸ ————————————⫷

4:10 PM: T-MINUS 15 HOURS AND 50 MINUTES UNTIL IMPERIAL CONVOY DEPARTURE

The mercenary stood by the side entrance watching you. 

“You look a mess!” your mother admonished, harried with the exertion of the day’s events that you somehow managed not to be privy to. Apparently there was to be a dinner with the guests leaving the next morning, and apparently you specifically were asked to be present. Both would be dull pieces of information on the best of days but now, after the events that had just transpired, they were positively brain-numbing. 

The queen consort motioned for you to turn around and you complied with a slow spin as your being was examined for minor casualties. Once the woman assured herself of your being alive and unharmed, barely registering the tall figure that stood mere yards away, she allowed herself more frantic inquiries as she shuffled you down the hallway. “What were you doing out there?”

“Oh nothing,” you answered vaguely, eyes trailing as far back towards the doors as they could go without actually turning your head. There was a flash of green armor. “I just wanted to take a walk, is all.” You turned to her and smiled your best attempt at a brilliant, royal-white assurance. “Clear my head.”

[commander-yinello]

A Keeper - Part 3

Fandom: Guild Wars 2 Pairing: Zhou Yao x F!Commander (no specific name or race) Chapter 3 [AO3 Link] Word count: 1007 Genre: Toothrotting, cliché fluff, awkward silliness and a love of cats A/N: This is already longer than it should have been xD I’m not sure how IC Yao is because let’s be honest, they didn’t get as much screentime as they deserve in EOD. Let’s hope we’ll get to know them much better in the upcoming LS! Expect about 2 more parts depending if Rama will cooperate >:3 Not sure if I’ll update tomorrow as it’s a busy day, but definitely Monday!

"Tea, chips, we are ready!" Yao pushed on a button on the front of the silver disc and beams of light covered the wall in front of them, emulating a massive screen.

Names and pictures started to flash by, introducing the cast to the viewers, all in various shades of jade green. The commander was clearly fascinated, already helping herself to the bowl of chips. Yao was all smiles and went into a full-blown explanation complete with grand hand movements.

"So I don't know how familiar you are with c-dramas - that's Cantha dramas in short - but a lot of them follow the same type of plotline where there's the inevitable betrayal and sadness, usually because someone's lover was actually their aunt or estranged neighbor or long lost cousin twice removed. But what's great in this one is there's a twist no one saw coming and-"

They sat down on the love seat and when their leg inevitably touched the commander's, they promptly felt quiet. The commander’s head burst into flames, more torch than living being, and tried so very very hard not to show it. She attempted to scoot away to the side, except they were both in a freaking love seat and there was no space to scoot.

Yao attempted to put their hair in a bun multiple times, failing constantly. "H-hah, a-as I was saying…"

The commander had trouble listening to either Yao or the drama. There was a battle in her head, one as fierce as the fight with both Jormag and Primordus, two extremes that both voiced arguments forming in her mind. One that told her she could just… sit on the floor. Be gracious, make it comfortable for everyone. Yao would most likely tell her to take the seat instead, she should accept.

The other voice told her she loved it, she loved Yao being so close and warm and connected, they smelled like metal, freshly cut grass and a warm, woody scent she couldn't quite place. What she wouldn't give to get even closer, maybe place her head on their shoulder or chest, wrap her arm around for a cuddle, place their hand on her thigh- how naughty it is that she has these thoughts about her good friend. What would Snargle think of her now?

Actually, Snargle would give her the thumbs up. She could literally see him in front of her doing so.

The commander felt insecure and inexperienced. Normally she was tired of never-ending threats, weary of people trying to ruin the world for their own selfish gains, exhausted when even those on her side wouldn't listen to reason. She's danced that dance so many times. But this one. This was new. It was scary.

If Yao didn't like her that way at all, everything would be over. That is what every cell in her body told her. Rational? Probably not. 

"Also the best character has a cat he protects with his life," Yao continued and pointed to someone wielding a sword. The commander shook away her thoughts. The movie had long started.

The commander decided to do what she did best, swallow her emotions and deal with them later. She was going to be a model guest.

"Why does he have to protect the cat?" she asked and grabbed her tea.

"You'll see. The cat is very important."

Right on cue, the main character talked about how the cat was part of a wealthy lord's inheritance. The monologue was delivered with such flourish, much anger and sadness, you’d think people have murdered for this cat. They probably have.

"Will he die?" She asked, then gasped. “More importantly, does the cat die?"

Yao rested his elbow on the seat’s back, grinning all-knowingly. “I won't spoil, but I think you can guess the answer.”

She definitely could. She took a sip of her green tea and nodded, enjoying the warmth in her stomach. “Good. I hate stories where animals die.”

“Me too! It is so upsetting,” Yao added enthusiastically, launching into a proper rant.

For the first time, the commander didn’t feel anxious. She listened to Yao’s speech, and laughed, genuinely laughed seeing how passionate they spoke about it. The closeness was cozy and it didn’t even bother her when her knee brushed theirs.

She realized Yao's arm was behind her on the back of the seat. She could feel the soft pulse of the jade on her neck, tickling her hair. Suddenly, she was bothered.

Yao noticed her silence, glanced back, then forward, brows furrowing. The cogs in their head zoomed a thousand spins per minute. The commander waited as Yao seemed in conflict with themselves. Then, an arm lighter than she had expected gently touched her shoulder. The commander stared at them, eyes wider than jade cores, feeling her heart stop.

“I…” Yao started, neck and ears turning flame red. Then they shook their head and pulled their arm away. "Never mind. Sorry,” they muttered.

The commander blinked and let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She was confused in heart and mind. What had just happened?

A very soft voice, one they almost didn't hear over the droning of the holodrama actors and the music said: "Tell herrr you idiotttt." Followed by extremely frantic shushing.

"What was that?" Yao exclaimed. The two of them alert, they jumped up from the chair. The noise seemed to come from the window. The commander signaled for the door and Yao pushed a button on the wall to open it.

She stormed out, skidded around the corner and planted two feet on the ground. She didn’t have her weapons, but she didn’t need them, her fists up and ready to unleash unfiltered hell on whatever was about to hurt them-

“Whoa whoa, stop stop wait! It's me, commander!" Gorrik waved his hands in an attempt to steady the commander’s battle lust. Rama was there too, straightening his hat and getting up from his crouched position.

“Rama? Gorrik? The commander asked in complete disbelief.

“Eh… Surprise!” Rama announced.

[To be continued~]

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Hi besties!! here is the long awaited part 9!! I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did whilst writing it!! a big thank you goes to @emwritesfootball for proofing this part & making sure its up to scratch for all of you lovely readers! Let me know what you think babes hehehe!! Love Always, Steph xx

Part 9. | nona parte

word count; 2006. writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. next update; Friday 13/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)! tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

The season kicked off in the middle of August and Amelia had been more than prepared for her first match in the premier league. She spent day after day analysing the players in the first team, introducing them to the magical world of rehearsed tactics. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows for the brilliant girl; she had to learn how to implement the plays coupled with the speed of the game. But so far, so good. Chelsea have been winning and her plays have been working, the boys were getting the hang of it - no matter how apprehensive they were at the start.

Jorgi played a big part in demonstrating the success of the play, performing best in his midfield role to guide the game and direct the change in play to his teammates. By the time they had played a few fixtures, they had really gotten the hang of her approach to set pieces and began to put their trust in the young girl. They were starting to see results and wanted to keep the winning streak going while they could. The fourth fixture in the new season was one that Amelia was looking forward to, personally: Chelsea v Aston Villa, Stamford Bridge, 3pm kick off.

Jack and Amelia had grown closer and closer, FaceTime‘dates’ as Jack would call them, a weekly occurrence. She had spoken to him just as much as she had spoken to Jorgi - and they were still carpooling to and from Cobham together. Her friendship with Jack was full of easy conversation and flirtatious banter, teetering over the line of friendship but being that they were kept physically apart, the friendship line remained largely intact. One person that had drifted even further away from her, despite her believing that it couldn't be possible, was Ben Chilwell.

Every time she walked into a room that he was in, if he didn't have to be there he would immediately leave. Amelia didn’t understand what the problem was. Yeah sure, they were flirty together in Mykonos but they never crossed a line together, no matter how many times the wine went straight to their heads. If anything, she should be the one running away from him. She was the one who sent him a couple of messages here and there that he just opened. She spoke to Mason, Jorgi, Billy Gilmour - who was another one of the boys she had developed a strong friendship with - and all of them insisted they didn’t understand their friend's strange behaviour.

On the evening before the Villa match, Amelia was laying on the couch in her townhouse binge watching yet another docu-series on Netflix when her doorbell rang. This was strange, most people that came past the house these days had their own set of keys (her parents, her brother, Jorgi) or they texted to let her know they were outside. Her townhouse was three stories high, so if she was upstairs on the top level vacuuming the chances of her hearing the door were slim to none. Either way, she got up off of her loveseat  and walked to the front door, peeking through the peephole - she lived in London, alone, she wasn’t opening that door until she knew exactly who was on the other side.

______________________________________________________________

“To what do I owe this visit, Benjamin?”

“Hi, Mils.”

“Wow, nickname basis already - I thought only friends called each other by their nicknames.”

“Did you think we weren’t friends?”

“Well, friends don’t treat friends the way you’ve treated me since the evening I left Mykonos.”

With a sigh, Ben looked down at his feet. I did feel a small bit of guilt for that one, but he deserved it. Continuing to find the cracks in the marble step of my door’s threshold more interesting than facing my expression, I took a step back and forced Ben to look up at me.

“Well, are you going to come inside? I’ve got the kettle on and a really good series going that I would like to get back to.”

With a charming smile, Ben took a step forward, took the door handle out of my hand and shut it behind him. Slipping out of his shoes, he followed me down the short hallway to my kitchen and pulled a seat out at the island bench.

“So, really now - why are you here? Nervous about tomorrow?” I questioned as I took two cups out of the cupboard and brewed one tea for him, one coffee for me. 3 years in Italy and coffee in the evening became the norm for me. It was my comfort drink.

“I’m here to apologise for the way I've been acting towards you for the past six weeks. I’ll be honest, I don’t know why I’ve been like this”

“Cut the crap Ben, you know exactly why you’ve been doing it. Now tell me the truth or, as far as I'm concerned, you never came here tonight and tomorrow we will be back to how we were yesterday - you running away from me and me pretending that it doesn't bother me. Even though all it does is bother me.” Not expecting that outburst to come out of me, and to be fair neither did I, Ben looked me in the eye and stayed silent, choosing his next words carefully.

“The first time I saw you, the night you told your brother off in the rec room at St. George’s Park, I thought you were the most determined woman I had ever seen in my life. Not scared of the 30 grown men who were very obviously all on the same side, literally. Then the next time I saw you, after the final match, how you comforted your brother when you were at the highest of highs and he was lower than low, I thought you had more compassion than every person in that stadium put together.”

“When you came to SGP again the next day and delivered the tactical analysis of the game you won, I thought ‘wow she is so intellectually brilliant’. And then when you turned up in Mykonos, all sunkissed and relaxed, sitting next to me and involving me in conversation with my pals but making me feel like you wanted my contribution...I remember it like it was yesterday. Amelia, you smiled at me and my heart did a somersault in my chest.”

“You shut me down outside the club that evening, and when we came back inside I caught the end of your conversation with Jorgi about Fede. Putting two and two together, I understood all that I needed to. The few days after that we carried on like normal. Then, you left and I didn't know if I would ever see you again to be fair. When you messaged me, I got too nervous to reply because I didn't know how to just be your friend. And then when I thought I had finally gotten through a day without thinking about my friend's little sister, you showed up at Cobham as my tactical analyst. I didn’t know what to do Mils, I don't know how to be just your friend when I've had nothing but unfriendly thoughts about you since the first time I saw you command that room of men you had never met in your life.”

The whistle of the kettle ringing out behind me is the only noise filling the kitchen. I’m staring at Ben; he’s staring back at me with nothing but truth behind his eyes and his heart on his sleeve.

“Benj, what you were feeling, what you are feeling is totally valid and I never want you to feel like you can’t share those feelings with me. You’re right, Mykonos changed things for me. What you were feeling was reciprocated, but Ben, I was going back to Italy. At that exact moment, I had no idea I would end up here. I thought I was enjoying a break before another high-intensity season in Italy. I wanted to kiss you so badly at the club that night, but I knew it would only hurt you. I’m used to being hurt, it's a feeling I've grown to expect. But you, you’re too pure to experience the kind of hurt that comes along with knowing you’re making a bad decision, but doing it anyway, because I wanted to be selfish with your heart.”

“Amelia, can I ask you something?” I nodded, holding my breath as I braced myself for the question poised behind his eyes. “If you were in the mood to be selfish, what would have come from that evening?”

“I can probably show you better than I can tell you,”

Walking around the island bench, I pulled the back of Ben’s chair slightly so he pivoted towards me. Standing in between his tracksuit-covered legs, I ran both hands up his arms until I got to his neck and finally beside his face. Threading my fingers through his hair, I pulled his face towards mine and our lips met. It was as soft as a butterfly kiss but as powerful as anything I had ever felt before. His hands wound around my waist and settled themselves on the small of my back before travelling down and giving my backside a gentle caress, forcing a laugh out of my lips and straight into his mouth. Pulling away slightly, so we both had a bit of breathing space to sort out our lightheadedness, Ben spoke his next words very softly.

“I need you to promise me something, Amelia.You need to promise me that you will stop thinking about my heart before your own. I am old enough to make my own decisions, and the decision to ignore you for these past few weeks has been one of the worst ones I've made in a really long time. But I did make it, and it was because I got scared, and I hurt you, and I am so sorry. The decision to come here tonight however, I feel like it more than makes up for that one very very stupid one”

“You’re such a smooth talker, Benj.”

“Say my name again, Mils, you don’t know what it does to me.”

“Down boy, your tea is going cold and I need to find out who killed Sophie in West Cork.Meet me in the lounge.”

A few hours had passed and it was nearing 10pm, well past Amelia’s bed time, but Ben was still sitting on her couch, feet on the table (despite her telling him to remove them) and arm around the back of her shoulders.

“Chilly, I don’t want you to think I'm not interested in you because I so am, I just don’t want to rush into anything. What I left behind in Italy was complicated and heavy; I'm still trying to learn how to exist without him if I'm honest. I want you to just give me the space I need to grow into my own here in the city, if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course it's okay, Mils. From what Jorgi has told me about Fede, I can understand why you want to take it slow now. But please, don’t call me Chilly. My friends call me Chilly, and Mills. I thought I made it clear before that I don’t want to be your friend.”

“To me, you’re Benj. Thank you. Wait - what do you mean what Jorgi has told you about Fede?”

“I may have asked a couple times about you, and for the record, he is team Bamelia.”

“Bamelia? That is the ugliest word I have ever heard. Never use it again.”

“How can it be ugly? It's mostly your name, and nothing associated with you could ever be considered anything less than beautiful.”

“Stop being so smooth Benj, you’re going to make me blush in a minute.”

“Good, can’t wait to see how you could possibly look even cuter than you do right now.”

“That’s enough Benjamin.”

“Okay I’m done now.”

Part 10. | parte dieci

[victoriareyloficlists]

10 April 2021 Updates to Reylo Engagements, Weddings, and Arranged Marriages

These fics have been added to the Engagements, Weddings, and Arranged Marriages list located here.

lay all your love on me by akosmia (AO3 2018  Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben doesn't really think much of himself, and Rey is determined to change his mind.) baby fever by cursebreakker (AO3 2021  Rated E Complete, 3 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey’s boss kylo basically has a heart of stone, he literally has a reputation in the offices as 'Satan’s right hand'. That is until Rey’s two year old daughter toddles up to him outside of work one day and he just completely melts.) ignorance of etiquette by blessedreylo (AO3 2020  Rated E Complete, 2 Chapters, Regency AU, Quick Synopsis: Lady Rey Kenobi lives a life of pristine comfort and luxury on her family's estate in Chesire with her parents Lord Obi-Wan Kenobi and Lady Satine Kenobi. When they receive word that an old family friend, Lord Benjamin Solo, is coming to visit, Lady Rey is reminded of how he tormented her as a child. She decides that she will prove herself not the same girl she once was in more ways than one.) Wild Child by tmwillson3 (AO3 2020  Rated E Complete, 4 Chapters, Regency AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey spends her first Season in Bath with her best friend, Rose Tico. When Rose begins a hate-at-first-sight relationship with Sir Armitage Hux, Rey thinks that nothing more exciting could happen.That's when Sir Hux's friend, the Earl of Alderaan, and his dogs come crashing into Rey. Rey has never liked peers, but when she bonds with him on a rainy day, everything changes.) Eating for Two by Hellyjellybean (AO3 2021  Rated E Complete, 3 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey is pregnant and smells her neighbour Ben's cooking. She goes round to ask if he would be willing to share. But maybe Ben would like to share more than his cooking with Rey.) Go And Catch A Falling Star Chapter 56 by Ayearandaday (AO3 2021  Rated G Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Hungry overworked Ben accidentally ends up in McDonalds. Guess what happens next?) weddings and wingwomen by bigfootsflannel (AO3 2020  Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: After hiring Ben Solo as her wedding photographer, Rose discovers her true calling as part-time matchmaker.) A Night at the Opera by orphan_account (AO3 2020  Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Historical AU, Quick Synopsis: Prince Benjamin is resistant to his arranged marriage to the Palpatine heir. ) And Closer Still Is Never Enough by lovefrompluto (AO3 2020  Rated E Complete, One-Shot, Historical AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben has an arranged marriage to Rey but what happens when he starts to court the wife who is a stranger to him?) A Doggy Intervention by corpse_wife (AO3 2020  Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Interventions come in many different forms. Whether it's time, a place or occasionally, people, it's up to the universe to decide when two soulmates meet. In Ben Solo's case, the universe had a cruel sense of humor. For his intervention comes in the form of a German Shepard and his graceless brunette owner. Two things happened in the short span of a minute: 1.) Ben got tackled to the ground 2.) The dog had just swallowed his wedding rings) Five Times That Ben Saved Rey's Valentine's Day & How She Forever Saved His by AnneAnna (AO3 2021  Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben makes a confession in his wedding speech: He knew he was going to marry Rey when he and Rey were 4 years old and she gave him a Valentine she made and colored herself. And 21 years later, he still has that Valentine.) Newspaper Hearts by Celia_and (AO3 2021  Rated G Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: “She made her Valentine’s cards. She tore hearts out of newspaper and glued them onto used envelopes and painstakingly wrote each child’s name. She probably spent days making them. And you know what she wrote on mine?” He doesn’t need to read it to know what it says, so he looks down at her instead, and the hand on her heart and the tears in her eyes. “Ben: You are OK. Rey.”) Sleepyhead by Blueyedgurl (AO3 2020  Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben, a mere himbo, tucks a stray hair behind Rey's ear in class. He knows he deserves the hot coffee in her hand to be thrown in his face and yet he gets a date. ) The Background by Blueyedgurl (AO3 2020  Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: He draws her every week. He draws her looking at him smiling, thoughtful, or truly magical, He pours his heart and soul into these drawings. Every Sunday he comes to the hospital room, hoping to meet her eyes. But she's not waking up. His hope is fading. Today...) Port in the storm by Blueyedgurl (AO3 2020  Rated E Complete, 2 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey pretends to be afraid of thunderstorms so she has an excuse to sleep next to Ben. Ben figures it out when he races home early after seeing thunder, fearing Rey will be crying alone curled up in a ball, only to find her totally chill and eating ice cream.) My Sandwich by Blueyedgurl (AO3 2020  Rated G Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Someone took Ben's turkey sandwich at work, he is infuriated and eager for revenge, until he finds out it was Rey then those feelings no longer exist.) Through the Years by castles_and_crowns (AO3 2018  Rated T Complete, 10 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben Solo and Rey Jakkson meet on the playground as children under unusual circumstances and quickly become best friends. This fic follows them through the years, showing glimpses of their friendship as it slowly progresses into something more.) heaven in hiding by blessedreylo (AO3 2021  Rated E Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: They say it's impossible for a guy and girl to be "just friends", but Rey and Ben had managed to discredit that throughout their decade long friendship. What they both have is special, that people would often arrive at the conclusion the two were made for each other. He's her safe haven, her rock. She gives him a sense of clarity and direction. Ben and Rey know each other more than anyone ever possibly could. Therefore on Valentine's Day, their friends decided to secretly set them up together on a blind dinner date.) ignorance of etiquette by blessedreylo (AO3 2020  Rated E Complete, 2 Chapters, Regency AU, Quick Synopsis: Lady Rey Kenobi lives a life of pristine comfort and luxury on her family's estate in Chesire with her parents Lord Obi-Wan Kenobi and Lady Satine Kenobi. When they receive word that an old family friend, Lord Benjamin Solo, is coming to visit, Lady Rey is reminded of how he tormented her as a child. She decides that she will prove herself not the same girl she once was in more ways than one.) key to the kingdom by blessedreylo (AO3 2020  Rated E Complete, 12 Chapters, Princess Diaries AU, Quick Synopsis: Most girls get a drunk weekend in Vegas for their 21st birthday, but Princess Rey Kenobi gets the chance to rule the country of Alderaan. But the only way she can become Queen is if she marries a man in 30 days, or the throne goes to the selfish (and annoyingly attractive) usurper Lord Benjamin Solo. Will Rey be able to ascend to the throne or will it all just become a royal pain in the ass?) Baby, It's Just Biology by Polkadotdotdot (AO3 2018  Rated E Complete, 32 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: For Rey Jackson, trying to finish your degree in Biomedical Science at Harvard is difficult enough when you're one of the few Omegas on campus. It's made even more difficult when your Professor is the one to trigger your heat. You can't help it, it's just your biology. An Alpha Omega love story.) for love or money by KiKi37 (AO3 2020  Rated M Complete, 30 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: The loss of a scholarship has left Rey Niima in a financial bind, with only a few months until graduation. Her friend Rose might know of something that could help.)