#man i wish i knew how too make music WHATS UP WITH ME MAKING ELABORATE MUSIC OCS AND NOT HAVING THE ABILITY TOO MAKE MUSIC

[daceofs]

Mystic Falls High

Part 1

I honestly do not know what I am doing

~~~~~

"Paddd...muh...nee"

"Padhumanidhi Sundarrajan" I blurted stopping the counselor from making my ears bleed, "I am the new transfer student."

"Yeah that's what I said" she muttered, "You are signed up for...?"

I take a deep breath, "AP biology, Integrated Math, Racket Sports, Theatre, Drawing and Painting, AP World history, French and AP Literature."

I knew it by heart because each subject was hand picked. Ivy league here I come.

She flippantly gives me a form, "fill out your club applications."

I smiled. Tightly,

I look through it,  I need to pick a minimum of two and I know exactly what they are, I eagerly fill the applications for Photography and chess. I wanted to pick films, but previous experiences have thought me that film clubs in US are not fun at all.

Chess has Asians and Indians, whichever little population of them this back water town has.

I submit my forms and take my schedule with a smile. Inside I'm shaking.

I'm wearing a short red kurta and jeans, I have simple bracelet, two gold earrings, a small miniscule bottu and my hair is plaited into a single messy braid. I wore two until last year, but I'm 17 now, so I'll wear  a single braid. But that still gets me a few weird looks.

Thankfully, I have my earphones and my ipod, A birthday gift. Yeno Yeno from Aadhavan soothes my nerves as I scramble to my history class.

The teacher is late.

Apparently he's new too so he begins to introduce himself.

"ALARIC SALTZMAN"

The name on the board reads, then he begins to explain how to pronounce his name and honestly I wish I could do that.

But it would be of no use.

I sigh and gear up for a busy day.

~

A week later

I am at school, everyone is dressed up, I am wearing a hoodies and my hair is a bun. Everyone is going to the dance, I am going to the chess club. Because today is the last day to 'officiate' my membership by showing up. I didn't even have time until now and now it bit me in the ass.

It's not that I was missing the dance. My mum would have barely allowed, I would have been so out of place. It's just that.. I feel like a creepy stalker.

I navigate around the halls and rooms, trying my best to not be seen.

I just need to dump these books in my locker. Take my Ipod and go to the club. Someone had stayed behind today for me... because there was a dance, it was officially school hours. It was a rare chance and I should make use of it.

Determined I walk into the empty hallway.

And.. immediately regret it.

Two, decidedly hot but also kind of creepy guys are right at the end of hall standing at the entrance to the small eatery with the vending machine.

The guy who is good at history, Stefan... I remind myself and another guy. He's older and creepier.

And they....

are both looking at me.

Vary.

It lights up my nerves on fire.

"Padmuh" Stefan asks. Oh god he knows my name, that's how he butchered it so well. I'm going to die. This is so awkward.

"Yeah?" I answer fidgeting.

"This is like shady parts of a city right now, what are you doing here?" the man asking is smiling but I know that it's not an innocent question at all. I can sense it. I just don't know why.

"Uhhh" I mutter, my lip curling in confusion, "this is my locker." I point at it. What is happening?

"Padmuh" Stefan starts again, ugh, that is not my name, "Why didn't you go to the decade dance?"

Am I being interrogated?

"It's just everyone is there.." he elaborates.

"Oh I couldn't go... I have work" I explain.

He nods.

I walk to my locker. The other one is staring at me, Stefan smacks him and he stops and turns to look at him. I shove my books in the locker. I take my ipod and walk away from there like I'm running away from an animal.

The entire time I could feel someone's eyes on me.

The experience grates on me and I drag my tired body to the club. I just want some peace and quiet until I finish this.

I step in and there is music... blaring...

"Devudaaa..

(Oh god)

Naa mathi chedipoyenu poorthiga,

(My mind has completely gone to ruin)

Ayanaa..."

(Yet)

(Noppi noppi song from Pokiri 2006)

Well at least it's not some rock garbage, it's a good song. I step in to the club room. With a strained smile that says 'touch me and I'll kill you.'

There is a single boy in the classroom and... he is Indian.

"Baagundhi haay-"

(It feels good-)

He pauses the song listening to my steps and goes rigid. The strain leaves a little from my smile.  He looks up and relaxes. He stands up and awkwardly extends his hand, my smile is not strained anymore.

"Hey"

"Hey"

I shake his hand, "Padhumanidhi Sundarrajan! Call me Padhma"

"Venkat Ghattamaneni" he follows.

"A telugu guy huh?" I ask, he gives a 'yeah' with a smile and I follow with, "I'm a tamilian."

"You're the only one here?"  I ask as we both sit down by something that looks like a table. I take out my bottle and start drinking some water.

"There were two other members, one transferred and the other..."

"Left?"

"Died!"

I spit out the water I was drinking and coughed. He laughed dryly despite himself and gently patted on my head.

"I was not expecting that!" I said still sputtering.

He sighed, "It was an animal attack, I wasn't in town... I didn't even know her name."

"Hmm" I hummed in thought, "sorry though."

We had nothing better to do... so we talked.

He told me that he had started living in the town three months prior. But was out of town for a week. His father's friend/colleague's daughter's wedding.

He'd just got back.

I told him I moved here a week ago.

That I missed my country and I missed my elder sister. She'd gotten into Yale.

He told me had an elder sister, she got into IIM and was back home.

He missed her terribly.

We had history, theatre, racket sports, integrated math and French together.

"Wait you were going to stay at the Salvatore boarding house?" He asked surprised.

"Yeah" I said with a chuckle, "We didn't find a house yet, the motels weren't good at all. But it cost an arm and a leg and my mum got really bad vibes."

"I am even surprised that you got to talk to someone in the house" he chuckled, "The guy from history, Stefan, I assume you know him, he's really good. He lives there apparently and they don't get customers. Like at all!"

"Wow" I exclaimed, "Good thing my dad asked around before trying to check in."

"Yeah... Good thing" he agreed.

Soon the session ended, we absolutely did nothing.

Then my dad called, he'd come to pick me up. By this time the school was already empty.

He was waiting at the entrance with an umbrella.

He smiled as soon as he saw me and I smiled back. It was a mild drizzle but I still got under the umbrella.

"How was the session ma?" He asked holding me around my shoulders.

"Semma pa" I grinned, "I made a friend."

(It was great)

Venkat had come out too. He was wearing a rain coat over his jacket.

I showed him to my dad.

My dad waved.

"Vanakkam uncle" he waved back, "I'm Venkat."

(Hello)

I cocked my brows in shock.

"My mum is half Tamilian... So, I'm quarter Tamilian" he explains with a smirk.

I look to my dad and smile, "Avuna sare ayithe..."

(Oh okay then)

This time he is shocked.

"My atha married a Telugu guy when I was 7" I explain.

Then a car pulls up behind ours and he goes, "that's my father."

A man around my dad's age gets out of the car also wearing a rain coat.

My dad and him exchange a hello and something about the roads in the town.

~

Around two weeks later

Venkat's family had come over to ours for dinner. My mum and his mum connected as the only Indian aunties in the entire town.

We lived in the same street, a few houses apart.

So, we were neighbors and to be family friends.

"Ma... can me and Venkat go for a walk while you guys talk?" I plead.. no beg.

She gives me a stern smile, "Walk where?"

"Just out" I say in a small voice, trying to give her puppy eyes.

"Don't go out of town" She says.

I nod dutifully and then walk out with a smile to my dad and Venkat's parents.

Venkat does the same and follows me out.

We lived on the near edge of the town, so it was more like don't go out of the block.

"So, where should we go?" he askes me just as we're out of the house.

"You're the host" I answer, "to this walk.. you should decide"

"Remember that Salvatore boarding house?"

"Hmm hmm"

"It's right around the lane" he reveals, "we could walk until the property, look at what gave your mother bad vibes and come back."

"Sure" I chirp.

We start on the way, "So, how's the town?" he asks.

"It's okay" I answer.

"Okay as in I am getting used to it and it's gonna be great or I hate it but I have to get used to it" he asks with a mischievous smile.

I mirror it and answer, "One of those."

He laughs. I join him.

"It's just that it's so different from India, from home, this town doesn't even have a theatre" I whine, "it might have a prissy theatre but it's not gonna play any Indian movies."

"You like movies?" he asks. "A lot" I answer, "Especially Indian movies. You don't?"

"I looove them" he almost purrs.

"There's this new movie coming out" I say, enthusiasm filling me, "It's a Telugu movie. You probably know it."

"Which one?" he asks, curious and excited.

I think for it's telugu name, then it strikes me, "Magadheera" I announce.

"Ohh" he mirrors my excitement, "I am madly waiting for it."

"But how do we watch it" I dampen the mood, "it's not gonna play around here."

"It will play in Cincinnati" he points out, "it's a few hours  from here."

"My parents will never agree" I say rolling my eyes.

"Well neither will mine" he joins in, "but we could ask nicely. There's a train."

"One can try" I cave into his hope, "how do we do it?"

"Sudden perfect grades, chores.. what else?" He schemes.

"That should do it" I confirm, "We'll see if it works."

We're about to enter the property and we can see the boarding house from here.

"Ta da" he  says pointing at it.

"That" I mutter, "is definitely haunted."

"I know right" he chuckles.

Then we hear it. A strange rustle with a rush of air, it's not human.

Then it happens again, and..

"Jai hanuman gyan guna sagar, jai kapeesha tihun loka ujaagar

Rama dhoota athulitha baladhama, anjani putra pavana sutanamaa"

(Hanuman Chalisa)

(Hail hanuman who is an ocean of knowledge, who is from the kapi clan and who is known in all three worlds…

Rama’s messenger, strong beyond comprehension, the son of anjana and the heir of the god of wind.)

Venkat nearly screams, I look at him ready to laugh, but he is completely serious and gesturing at me to move. So,

"Mahaveera vikrama Bajrangi, Kumati Nivaara Sumati Ke Sangi

Kanchan varsna viraaja Subesaa, Kanan kundal kunchit kesa"

(Greatest of warriors, valiant as thunder, friend to the good and exterminator of the bad)

I sing with him as we kind of, no, definitely ran from there.

We're at  "Raghupati Kinhi Bahut Badaai, Tum Mama Priya Bharata Sama Bhaii" by the time we reach the road and then he stops, so I stop.

(Rama gave you the greatest praise, ‘you are as dear to me as my dear brother bharat’)

Then I start laughing while I am panting and he's just panting.

"Did you seriously just scream Hanuman Chalisa?" I ask him, incredulous and near hysteric.

"I did not scream it" he says, weakly.

I laugh some more.

"It worked didn't it" he points out.

"That it did!"

~

What on God's Green earth was that?

Damon has been alive for lot more than a century and this is the first time, he had seen such a reaction when he preys on someone.

He was so weirded out that he didn't even eat them.

"Only in mystic falls" he muttered as he vamped back to boarding house.

"Found anything" Stefan asked now changed from the shirt Frederick stabbed him in, but still wincing and favoring the side.

"This is exactly why I tell you to drink people blood"  he pointed out again.

Stefan gives him a bitch face. Well your loss baby brother, just don't bleed on my carpet again, just don't bleed again.

"No sign of any tomb vamps" he says, then pauses, considers.

"but?" Stefan asks, "There is a but, I feel that but."

"I saw that girl from the other day" I confess.

"Padmuh?" he asks.

"Yeah she was with an Indian boy" I continue.

"Whenkat?" He asks again.

"You know him?" I ask him back, I could do with information like that.

"How many 17 year old high school going Indian boys are there in this town?" He deadpans.

"Well something is weird about them" I brush him off, "I tried to scare them..."

"Damon" Stefam admonishes.

"They were on the property, right after two vampires tired to attack us unprovoked on a perfectly good evening" I droll the dangers into his dense head.

"They were on the property?" Stefan asks puzzled.

"Just outside" what does it matter duh! "The point is they're suspicious. The boy came into town with you and the girl came into town with Alaric. They might be working with Noah!"

"Damon" Stefan whines, "they both have families. They are perfectly normal. They-"

"How are they in school?" I cut him off.

Stefan rolls his eyes. Rude, "Well they're polite, nice. They're very studious and have strict parents. They mostly keep to themselves though."

"We saw her right after the dance being all sketchy. They weren't at the dance. They weren't at the desirable bachelor thing."

"Because it was for people in mid 20s like you... there were rarely any kids present" he counters again.

"Well then explain this brother... the day I didn't get Katherine out of tomb... every stupid child in the town was at Dull or Duke or whatever's party. Except for them" Damon presents fool proof evidence.

"Strict parents Damon"  Stefan drawls.

"I still think they're fishy... they don't act like regular students" I emphasise.

"They're not regular students" Stefan points out, "both are emigrants and exchange students."

Yeah sure Sherlock

~

Hindsight is such a bitch.

Stefan is now an anti therapeutic punching bag and he needs Van Helsing ripoff and little miss Katniss to get him out.

He manages to goad the hunter/teacher into helping them. He shows them stuff he had specifically brought  to kill Damon and oh goodie how useful.

They each stock themselves and come up with a fool proof contingency plan.

Well it's not fool proof but he doesn't have the time for it.

I exit the room, Alaric and Elena on my heels and there she is.

The suspicious girl from other night.

She doesn't look like a hermit this time but she shouldn't even be here.

When he's making a plan to get his vampnapped brother out.

I give a smile which is actually a sneer and she clutches the books in her hands tight as if they could offer any protection.

Alaric jumps in, unnecessarily, "Padmuh... what are you doing here? It's not a school day.."

"Mr Saltzman" she greets him, then continues, "Ms Jones asked me if to help her with a project for extra credit."

She looks at Elena and fidgets.

I roll my eyes with a sigh. Have we learned nothing?

"Were you eavesdropping on us? Answer truthfully" I compel her.

"Damon" I hear Elena... Gee Elena, it's not like we have the clock ticking to a rescue and cannot risk any failures.

"Chiii" the girl exclaims, uhm, then she continues, "why would I ever do that?"

(Ewww)

"Well then I want you to forget this conversation" I compel again.

"I want that too, I'll try" she replies with barely hidden disdain.

You'll what...

"I'm sorry, we were just doing some founder's business" Elena covers immediately. Ooh clever.

Except she's on Vervain Elena.

"Yeah no problem" she says in a rush and sidesteps me.

Before I can act, "We need to go" Elena drags me ahead.

"She's on Vervain" I hiss.

"We can worry about that later"  she hisses back.

"Paagal Saale" I hear a murmur. Is she hexing us?

(Lunatic bitch)

But I feel nothing and I don't have time for this now. So, I comply.

~

Founders day rolls around and hell breaks loose.

Damon is still greedily gulping his blood bag. He reeks of ash and smoke and hates it with every fibre of being.

He feels Stefan's eyes on him and that grates him even more.

"What were you doing down there?" he manages to ask. He knew Stefan wasn't down there, he'd checked, it was the first thing he did.

"Saving your ass" comes the answer.

"Why?" he wants to know.

"You're my brother... Go Figure" Nonchalance huh brother it doesn't suit you.

He doesn't even say it out loud. Just gives a listless smile.

"That went so well" someone squeals and they both become alert.

'Went well?' what kind of diabolical-

"We should do that again" some else says and they're bloody chuckling and he wants to snap their neck.

"Who was that?" he grates, "Someone from council?"

"Has to be" Stefan says, the tomb vampires are all dead after all.

"We should plan it better though" he can hear it better now and he knows it's a girl and he's heard her before.

"Yeah it got quite late" the other one's a boy and he's heard him too.

"Yeah well..." the rest turns into garble as a taxi stops by them.

"Padmuh" Stefan realises, "and Whenkat!"

They're too weak and slow to follow them now, "We've got to deal with them."

"Damon" Stefan chides.

"You heard them" Damon hisses, "they had a plan, it went well... who knows what they did!"

~

"So... we watched Magadheera" Padhma squeals into her phone, "Akka it was so good."

(Big sister)

"Wow" Maitreyi, her sister replies equally enthusiastic, "You sound like you enjoyed it a lot. How was Cincinnati?"

"It was okay" she answered, "better than this backwater town."

"I wish we could have watched it together" Maitreyi says with a small whine.

"Next time come to Cincinnati" she suggests.

"Or I'll take you all to New York" Maitreyi counters.

"Brilliant" she chirps.

They chat for a few more minutes before hanging up, she comes down to the living hall.

Her parents are talking about something seriously.

"Ma" she asks tentatively, "everything okay? How was the celebration?"

"It was great kanna" her mother answers, "but there was an accident. The mayor died."

(Sweetheart)

"Oh" her eyes widen in shock, "that's so sad."

"Yeah" her father sighs, patting her shoulder, "We're all going to the memorial tomorrow."

"Should we take anything?" her mother ponders.

"Lasagna, apparently" Her father answers.

"That is so weird" her mom says and they all chuckle.

How very morbid!

~

"Hey there's Tyler" Venkat says taking a sip of water, everything else is alcoholic here and their parents would kill us if they as much as drank a glass. They're at the memorial, the entire town is.

Their parents are talking to other adults and after the formalities, here they are, in the garden.

"Oh yeah" Padhma ponders, "should we go say hi?"

"We don't even know the guy" He points out.

"It's a minimum curtesy" She counters.

Their argument comes to moot when he walks inside the house, away from the crowd with a guy who just arrived, must be a relative.

"Well" he smirks. She shakes her head. The she smiles.

"Oh hey there's coffee" she chirps. He perks up, "Now you don't have to worry about feeding only water to your manly body."

"I never said that" he says abashed.

"No?" she teases. She picks up a cup of it, with a straw in the lid and hands it to him. He takes it with a tip of an absent hat.

He sips it and immediately spits it out.

Padhma looks at him startled, then looks around embarrassed. He collects himself and stops sputtering. They both look around before he puts the cup aside.

She clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes, "Wow!"

He raises his finger to point in his defense, "It was hot and there was no milk. Why are they serving espressos at a funeral?"

"Would you prefer they served Iced caramel lattes?" she asks with a huff.

"As a matter of fact" he answers, "yes!"

~

"No" This idiot. We watched it all happen, they're frolicking chatting something we can't catch and he's still in denial.

"Stefan, listen" Damon implores despite himself, "he took a sip of coffee and spit it out. The coffee has vervain in it. That's exhibit 1, Exhibit 2... the other day I couldn't compel her. Exhibit 3, she was being shady in an empty hallway. You were right there, Exhibit 4-"

"Damon" Stefan sighs, "you're spiraling. The other day you were convinced that they were in the council. Now you're convinced he's a vampire and she's a witch. This isn't fanfiction Damon."

"No little brother" Damon drawls, "This is our very real messed up life which is why there are no coincidences. Especially because Katherine is here."

"Fine" Stefan relents, finally, "there's a high school carnival tonight..."

"We'll take care of them there" Damon finishes.

"No" Ugh, Stefan, "We'll investigate."

"Fine" Damon relents, "how do we know they'll show up, given everything they've... skipped?"

"I'll invite them" Stefan answers.

Well...

~

They're, embarrassingly, chuckling like teenagers when Venkat sees Stefan approach them.

"Oh shit" he mutters.

She follows his sight and her eyes widen, she hits him lightly and mumbles, "I told you this wasn't appropriate behavior."

She turns to Stefan who is now standing just a couple feet before them, "We're sorry. We know this is disrespectful."

Surprisingly, he chuckles, "Oh no.. I know funerals can be boring, especially when you know no one."

"Yeah" Venkat nods with a guilty smile, "but we're still sorry."

"Don't worry about it" Stefan says, "I'm not policing you guys."

She gives him a strained smile, he continues, "I was just wondering why you guys didn't show up to the Founder's day celebrations..."

"Oh yeah" she drawls, they skipped it, "We were out of station. Our parents went, initially we were supposed to come too but well our schedules clashed."

"Your schedules clashed?" He asked confused, "What happened?"

"Well" Venkat answered, "We went to Cincinnati to watch a movie."

Stefan looks baffled, "you went to Cincinnati.. to.. watch a movie?"

At the expense of not sounding crazy, Padhma continues, "It's an Indian movie. It doesn't play around here."

"Oh" he almost sighs, "I see. You guys like movies huh?"

Venkat shrugs and Padhma chuckles. "I like them too" he continues.

"Really?" Venkat asks and Padhma follows, "are you in the film club here?"

"No" Stefan says with a dry laugh, "listen there's a school Carnival tonight. I'm sure you know.. are you planning to come?"

"Uhm" she mumbles not knowing what to say.

"You should come" he implores.

"We will come" Venkat answers, "thanks for the invite Stefan."

He nods with a smile, they smile back and he leaves.

"You think they'll agree?" Padhma turns to Venkat.

"Sure they will" Venkat answers, "It's a high school event and we've been on our best behaviour."

~

"Well played Fincher" Damon teases him as soon as he comes back, "smooth."

"We have to find out who the 'they' they were referring to is." Stefan says not playing that game.

"We will" Damon smirks.

~

"This is the worst high school carnival of my life" Damon says phantom dusting his pants.

"This is the only high school carnival of your life" Stefan points out standing beside him.

"Har har Stefan" Damon bites. Stefan smirks.

"So... we've got problems 1,2,3 covered... moving on to problem 4... where are the brown love birds?" Damon quips.

"I did spot them earlier, they were playing some games" Stefan answers, "They should be around."

"Let's go find them" Damon smirks all evil debauchery in glory.

Finding two shifty possibly humans or maybe vampires should be easy for two fine vampires such as the Salvatores.

Except they've combed the entire ground and haven't found a whiff of trace.

"Where are they?" Damon almost shouts, annoyed.

"They'll be here.. they'll be here.." Stefan placates.

"Who are you searching for?" Elena asks them having seen the fuss.

"Have you seen Padmuh and Whenkat?" Stefan asks her, in a 'this is important but don't worry' tone.

"Padmuh and Whenkat?" She asked.

"Yes" Damon hissed, "the Indians."

"They left" she stated.

"They left?" Stefan asked, incredulous.

"Yeah.." she said confused, "something about a curfew."

Stefan looks at Damon, completely exasperated.

"Curfew?!" Damon bites, borderline hysterical, "IT'S 9:30!!"

To be continued

[e-dubbc11]

Good Morning

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Fluffy bunnies and unicorns, love confessions, brief mention of smexy time

Word Count: 509

Summary: An ordinary weekday morning turns into so much more than you thought it would

A/N: I’m trying my hand at shorter little drabbles. This one popped into my head while I was getting ready for work one morning, I hope you like it. I have a few more ideas for short little fics like these but if anyone else has any that they’d like me to elaborate on, don’t be shy to drop them into my inbox. 💜 Oh and I wrote this quickly so if there are mistakes, I’m sorry!

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

The sound of the alarm shocked you awake, although most mornings you didn’t need one. Your body’s internal clock knew when it was time to get up for work but you were having the best dream that the alarm so rudely interrupted.

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you looked over at the man you were just dreaming about. He was still asleep and you were thankful that the alarm didn’t wake him. His raven colored hair looked like spilled ink splashed across the pillow.

Glancing at his sharp profile, his face was angled up toward the ceiling, his chest slowly rising and falling. He looked so peaceful.

Even in the dark early morning hours, you could still make out his handsome features, the well-groomed beard, his soft lips that were all over you just a handful of hours ago, and his muscular shoulders that you had gripped tightly while he pulled sinful noises from your lips over and over again.

God, you loved him. And you wished he knew just how much, but he didn’t…yet.

Getting out of bed, you took one more look at him and smiled. Even fast asleep, he made you smile. Your monotonous morning routine began by brushing your teeth, washing your face, and putting the kettle on for your tea, followed by your morning skincare.

With your eyes closed, you sat at your vanity gently smoothing the chilled moisturizer on your face and up and down your neck. Suddenly, you felt someone standing behind you. Slowly, you opened your eyes, felt a smile spread across your face, and peeked into the mirror.

There he was standing in the doorway, leaning up against the door frame with tired eyes, gliding his agile fingers through his beautiful dark brown hair, and gingerly brushing his beard.

“I love you too.” He said out of nowhere with a warm smile.

Surprised, you quickly turned around to face him.

“What?” You said with your eyebrows raised. Maybe you didn’t hear him right.

He moved closer to sit down on the ottoman, his intense brown eyes staring at you lovingly with that perfect smile on his face.

“You were talking in your sleep last night, my love.” He said.

You covered your eyes briefly, feeling slightly embarrassed.

He continued.

“I woke up when I heard you mumbling.” Billy was a light sleeper. “So I listened for a couple minutes, most of it wasn’t clear but then you whispered ‘I love you, Billy. So much.’ And I wanted to tell you that I love you too, sweet girl. With all my heart.” And he leaned forward to place a tender kiss on your lips.

That was the first time Billy Russo told you he loved you…and it wouldn’t be the last.

Moving over to sit on his lap, you returned his kiss. You pulled him into a tight embrace, his body still warm from being in bed, and there was never a more perfect moment than this one.

God, you loved him…and he finally knew just how much.

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[ainyan]

Woven Bonds #1 (WIP)

The bodies below moved together in flowing rhythm, dancing to the sounds of an orchestra cobbled together from soldiers with some claim to musicality. Perhaps the notes weren’t always right, the tones not always sweet, but there was heart behind the melody that gave it the voice to carry the tune.

Normally she would be among them; dancing was amongst her favorite pastimes, and a pang of jealousy twinged in her breast as she watched the people below galavant about with abandon. None would deny her the opportunity to join in, of course. On the contrary, they would welcome her with great cheer. But she didn’t think she could take the press of humanity at the moment - the staring eyes, the wagging tongues, the constant well-wishes and congratulations, the thanks and praise and adulation…

Sighing, Kal’istae pushed off of the railing upon which she leaned and lifted her gaze to the ceiling far above, already ringed in a smoky haze from the candles and torches placed every which where to light the grand hall. Too much light, too much noise, too many eyes…

Her gaze tracked down, slid towards a darkened stairway leading up. The menagerie had been declared off-limits for now until the damage could be assessed, the carnage cleansed - but who would deny her the right?

Making her decision, she gathered the skirts of her borrowed gown and stole away into the shadows that ringed the balcony, seeking higher ground and refuge from the flood of desperate cheer below.

Unseen, a shadow detached itself from where it had watched her, following her ascent with a single brown eye before ghosting along in her wake.

The night air was hot and arid; there was little humidity to be found even amidst the fountains that rose and fell within their marble basins. The temperature did not touch her; it never did, and she paid it no mind as she picked her way along the patterned tiles that made up the walkways of the elaborate rooftop gardens.

She could still hear the music from below, though it was muted by distance. It mingled with the fresh, clean scent of flowers that followed her as she picked her way in an ever tightening spiral towards one particular point. Here the quiet perfection of the gardens was marred. The flowers were trampled, flattened by boots, torn by claws, and splattered with a scarlet stain she thought might never come clean.

She halted just shy of the grass, her sandals scraping lightly on the brickwork. Fingers twisted and tangled amidst her lavender skirts as she stared mutely at the evidence of that last moment - the moment that had defined the course of an insurrection turned liberation.

“It will do you no good to dwell on it. Trust me.”

Some part of her had known he was there. She always knew he was there, no matter how hard he tried to hide it from her. A legacy of her Echo, perhaps. “Perhaps,” she murmured as she felt the heat of him at her back, “but I can’t help myself. I can’t stop wondering if there had been another way. If I could have… stopped him.”

He sighed. “Even if you had, he would have died,” Thancred pointed out, his voice almost gentle as he shifted to the side and stepped up beside her, kneeling down to study the mussed ground. “If not at his own hand, then by Raubahn’s, or Lyse’s. They would not have let him live after what he did to them.”

Biting her lip, she turned away from the scene, gazing across the rooftop towards the horizon and the night sky beyond. “And justice?”

“Has been served,” came the firm answer. Thancred fell silent, then rose and reached out, closing his hand lightly about her wrist. Startled, she turned to look up at him, lavender-edged eyes meeting that single brown. “My lady, your compassion is amongst your greatest strengths, but waste it not upon a man who ill deserved it. Zenos was no rabid dog who acted without understanding of his actions, nor was he coerced or forced in any way. Every act he perpetuated upon these people was done with full knowledge and acceptance of the consequences. He simply,” the rogue murmured, “did not care.”

Her wrist hung limp in his grasp; she made no effort to escape him as she gazed up at him. “Because he did not care, I should not?”

His fingers tightened, then fell away. “No,” he sighed. “Of course not.”

Rubbing at her wrist, Kal’istae stepped away, skirts swirling about her ankles. Thancred stayed where he was, watching her as he always had, with equal parts hunger and reticence. “I hear what you are saying, Thancred,” she murmured. “And I know from whence your advice springs.” When she turned towards him with those compassionate eyes, he winced and looked away, and it was her turn to touch him, slim fingers resting on the back of his hand. “We have had to make many a tough decision these long years, my friend.”

His gaze dropped down to study the hand laying upon his; so small, so slim, so delicate to hold the balance of the world, and yet it had been those hands and those alone that had determined its course again and again. He reached over to cover her hand, turning the other so that her fingers lay sandwiched between his own. When he lifted his eyes to meet hers, he could see a hint of his own jumbled emotions reflected back at him.

As always.

“And that does not look to change,” he replied lightly, “so ‘tis best not to dwell on it. What is done is done, for weal or woe, but in this case, you have done far more good than harm.” He could see his words make impact, but despite the lightening of her countenance, her worries continued to weigh upon her shoulders. 

He did not think about it. Had he allowed himself to contemplate his actions, he never would have taken that first step. His fingers had closed about hers, his body pivoting, feet sliding until she was fetched up against him, all without conscious thought. She was in his arms and they were moving before either of them realized what was happening.

And then it was too late.

She stared up at him, lavender-edged eyes as wide and startled as a deer’s as she instinctively tucked her hand in his, raising the other to lightly rest atop his arm - his shoulder being just a bit out of reach. “Thancred?” she asked, her voice light and breathless as he swirled her into the night, moving more to the music in his head than that which drifted up from below.

“Just dance, my lady,” he murmured, snugging his arm firmly about her waist as he led her through the flowers, his steps light and measured. “Don’t think. Don’t speak. Just dance.” As she blinked, long and slow, he smiled. “Just dance with me.”

It was a choice that was no choice at all. She was already dancing, and it would have taken considerably more than her confused and jumbled feelings about the rogue to get her to stop. Separate, both the sport and the man were among her favorite things; together? How long had she wanted this opportunity?

Didn’t she deserve this moment?

So she didn’t think, didn’t speak, only allowed herself to fit against him as though slotting into the one place she’d been made to belong. His arm curved about her snugly, clasping without clutching, holding without binding. His hand was warm, palm soft and dry against her skin as he tucked her own against his breast. That single brown eye stared down at her, never wavering as he guided her across the flowers and stones, steps light and certain.

Eventually, the music from below trailed off into silence as the trials of the day caught up to those who celebrated with such reckless abandon, eclipsing even the desperate energy that came from a relief long sought and release long denied. It did not matter. The music that guided Warrior and rogue wasn’t anything heard by one’s ears; a shared melody that spanned across yearning hearts, echoing only in the mind.

And when even that silent melody came to a close, they continued to move, swirling slowly to a halt until they were simply swaying in place, neither willing to be the one to release the other. Beneath her fingertips, Kal’istae could feel his heart beating, keeping time with the sway of their bodies; beneath his fingertips, Thancred could feel the throb of her pulse, a rapid flutter that belied the calm, dreamy look on her face.

It took almost more than he had to drop his hands away and take that single step back, breaking the contact between his body and hers. She swayed in place, fingers tangling in her skirts as she fought for balance. His own clenched into fists to keep from reaching for her. “My lady,” he began, then stopped, clearing his throat to strip his voice of the hoarseness. “My lady, thank you.”

There were a dozen ways she could answer. Only one came to mind. “No, my lord,” she murmured, her voice no more steady than his. “Thank you. I feared I would go the night without dancing.”

On steadier ground, he smiled down at her. “Knowing as I do your love of the dance, that would not do at all. I am… most honored to have been able to prevent such a tragedy from taking place.”

He was teasing, but there was nothing malicious in it. It was the banter of a friend, and it settled her stomach and nerves. “The honor is mine. As I recall, you spend little enough time dancing at these events - or at least,” and here she smiled, the briefest dimple flashing at the corner of her lips, “not the sort of dancing one does in a public venue.”

He tucked his thumb inside his fingers to prevent himself from touching that damn dimple. “Ah, well, sacrifices must be made for the greater good and all that - not,” he added with a grin, “that there was much sacrifice involved. It was a pleasure, my lady, I assure you.”

Those lavender-edged eyes glowed up at him. “For both of us.” She inclined her head, dipping slightly in what could loosely be called a curtsey. Not a courtesy she would be called to perform often, he knew, as she rarely wore skirts of any kind, much less like the formal gown that now draped over her slim curves. “And as the hour is more early than late at this point, I’ll bid you a good… morning.”

Wisely, he did not stop her, though several protests battered against the back of his teeth. Instead, he offered her a proper bow, holding it as she gazed at him a moment longer, then turned and strode off in a swirl of lavender skirts.

He remained amongst the flowers long after she had descended into the palace, likely to seek the chambers Lyse had given her for the night. Sleep was the last thing on his mind, and those thoughts that chased themselves around his skull like nutkins were not the kind conducive to a good night’s rest. Only once he’d shed himself of his regrets and projections did he follow in her wake, to take a few hours restless sleep in his own assigned bed.

[nightswithkookmin]

More Pictures of Tae and Jennie are out and at this point I'm kinda feeling bad for taekookers, at the same time they had it coming, shipping a ship that was barely there in the first place Vope was more realer than taekook that's how much content tae kook had. But anyways I'm starting to approve of Tae and Jennie before I was like hell no but now I don't mind it, do I think he could do better yes but at the end of the day it's his happiness, and that I approve of.

Oops I'm dead again

I knew they were fucked the moment it was with miss Jennie. Poor tuktukkers🥲

It breaks my heart for them

Its them coming up eith elaborate theories to explain why JK's brother allowed Jikook tags on his page for me. That was the last straw

Claiming the original poster unarchived her post- if all it takes for tags to show up on his page is to unarchive posts he's already tagged in, why don't yall unarchive your posts as well?? You know you want to

The lies they tell on Beyonce's internet.

About these two.

You know I saw one tuktukkers on my timeline saying they believe the dating rumors now but the leg and nose in the photos don't look like Tae at all....

To be honest I think Hybe needs to put all this to rest now. Confirm it or deny it and let us move on with our lives. I'm getting tired of saesangs putting their relationship in my face every few sec. They screwing. Cool. Know who else is screwing? EVERYBODY.

This is getting too much attention than it should. And it's becoming too much of new old news every single minute. It's like they don't want us to forget and the minute it dies down it circles back up. Which saesang has the time to orchestrate something like this? Serving tea one teaspoon full at a time?

Feels like a whole marketing ploy.

It was shocking, titillating the first few times, now it's just plain annoying.

And I'm gay. I do not want to hear nothing bout heterosexual people on my timeline always

Make it stop. Hybe. End it please. I can't take it anymore. They broken my ear with it😫

This certainly isn't my favorite couple reveal moment and this whole trajectory of the reveal leaves such a poor taste in my mouth. They are not being photographed on the streets by paparazzi or even being outed by owners of the places they staying. No. These are images ordinarily no one but them would have access to💀

And they all going about their lives like it's the most normal thing. When one word from either of them and both camps would nip this. Just one word.

If it was privacy invasion I know HYBE WOULD HAVE SLAPPED WHOEVER IS BEHIND IT WITH A SUIT. Tae would have cussed them out himself. Someone from both camps is behind it with their blessings. I said it.

People want to act like everyone wants to hide their relationship when it's like but if you've ever been in love especially the first time you just want to shout it to the whole world💀 Free Jikook in gcf.

I take little to no stock whatsoever in their dynamic. But out of love and respect for Taehyung I wish them well. Wish he's happy.

Tae deserves to be happy. If she makes him happy and he makes her happy- which he will cos I know that man a lover and she's very lucky to have him. Very, very lucky. Not sure I can say same for her cos I don't know her like that. Let's hope she does else I'm rallying up tuktukker's and starting a riot.

You'd be surprised how many people will lose interest in them the moment they confirm it. I'm here for BTS, to support their music and make them rich at my expense, what they do in their private capacity with private persons and persons outside BTS is none of my business.

But this whole Romeo and juliet trope they have going on irks me. They out there living their best forbidden love romance trope life thinking we don't want to see them together- like no. We just don't care 🤷🏾

Some of us just don't care at all😫

Miss Jennie lost her wow factor two public relationships ago for us to care who she dates anymore sorry💀

Then on the other hand, because this is Tae's first public relationship we care so much and have so many judgements to pass cos in our eyes no one deserves Tae but us🥺

But we do see the power couple potential they have😏

I just wish Jennie was Tae's second public relationship not his first.

Their shippers must be so happy 😊

That said, if Namjoon wanna date someone say tall, skinny, Asian, female, who is into pilates👀

Anyway this has been a rather satisfying jikook karma moment 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

I'll be in tuktukland all day🥳

[aynanasstuff]

hi angelll <3 :)

so I watched the music video of ang laga de and I- if you’re writing for spence can you do a forbidden lovers au where they decide to get married, with heaps of smUt too >:)

I literally can’t get that kiss scene out of my head help-im literally a slut FOR IT please write in a kiss scene like that I’m BEGGING

@lil-stark HI ANGELLLLL OH HELL THIS ASK HAS BEEN HAUNTING ME FROM MY INBOX BECAUSE I DIDN'T WANNA DISAPPOINT YOU BUT I FINALLY GOT AROUND TO IT AND IT KINDA TURNED INTO ITS OWN THING! i hope you like it anyway, it's not the most smutty :( (aaj kuch smut aa hi nahi raha tha dimaag mein 🥺) so in conclusion, I did something and you're going to have to deal with it lmao I'm SORRY

________

Nothing Changes// Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: You were Cat Adams' accomplice. Spencer still falls in love with you and you now call him your husband. How will his team react?

Warnings: smut, allusions to Spencer's wheel of trauma, forbidden lovers trope

masterlist

_____________________________________________

Spencer knew this was wrong. He still went all in- eyes wide open, heart beaming.

You knew this was wrong. You still went all in- eyes wide open, heart beaming.

The stars were wicked with the way they planned your lives. A tale as old as time really, as old as the capulets and the montagues. But this wasn't fair Verona.

This was modern day Virginia.

Being Cat's former best friend wasn't your proudest label. She was everything a person shouldn't be. Manipulative, selfish; she preyed on people who didn't deserve it. You saw through it but you were too late. She'd already got you in a jam, tangled up in her lies.

But in a twisted way, that's how you met the love of your life. You were doing time for something you didn't even know you had a hand in, an elaborate plan Cat set in place so she could have you do her dirty work without you even knowing. However, knowingly or unknowingly, you were guilty in the eyes of the law and you were sentenced to five years in prison. But somehow, it was reduced to two years and with good behavior, you managed to make it out six months early. Upon release, you realised it was Spencer who fought for you. Call it empathy, projection or just a genius at work, but apparently the man didn't take a single second off of working on your case. Something gnawed at him to believe your innocence. Spencer had first hand experience with the utter despondency that comes with being caged despite not deserving it. But it didn't stop people from believing you were just as bad as Cat, just as cruel and conniving. People in the BAU still thought you couldn't be innocent, not as irrevocably as Spencer thought. The attacks on your character hurt, but at least you were free.

Spencer met up with you after you were released. That one meeting led to many such meetings. Maybe he was drawn to broken birds, just like you were- wings clipped but still so beautiful. No one would guess that you'd fall apart together, that you'd fall apart over and over till you were shaking and moulding into each other, dying to reach a closeness that you couldn't put into words. No one would know that in each other, you reached there.

This wasn't the exciting love that people talked about, the sneaking around was not teenagers at rebellion. It was a quiet love, passionate nonetheless, but quiet. Because who knows, it was a wish that you could not speak out loud because what if it's snatched away? What if Cat ruins this? What if her presence in your past, in Spencer's past, ruins a life you wanted to build together?

So you kept quiet. Your childhood dreams of a big wedding were exchanged for a peaceful one, one without judgement. It was a hard decision. It was the right decision.

________

His hands entwine with yours next to your head, your whines making his hips rock faster. Your breathless release makes him burrow his face in your neck, his grunts telling your that he's close to the edge. "Let go, Spence, let go, baby." That's all the coaxing he needs.

The next moments are spent in silence. Breaths lulling you to a calmness that can't be found outside these four walls, not for the both of you.

"You ever wish we could have more?" Spencer asks, your hand taking through his curls as caresses your collarbone.

"More?"

"Yeah, more. More freedom, more support, more love? Do you ever wish we didn't have to hide ourselves because of what others might say?" Spencer says quietly.

You sigh, "Honey, I have all I need. I'm content with you. More would be nice, but it's not necessary. Do I wish we didn't have to go through so much to find each other? Yeah. But in a weird way I'm grateful that we did. What's this about, love?"

"I think they know."

You freeze, before asking, "Your team?"

"I don't think they know about you but I'm sure they know I'm hiding something important."

Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest but you contain it, "I mean, we have been married for almost a year and they are profilers after all. They could've put it together."

Spencer tightens his hold on you, "How do you feel about that? What do you think happens if they find out?"

You continue playing with his hair, the action calming him, "They find out, we probably have a bunch of judgement to deal with. But they are also your family so maybe it won't be as bad? And we're committed to each other, even if they don't react the way we want them to, nothing about us changes. At least I hope it won't. It won't, right?" Your ask in a small voice.

Spencer raises his head and places a kiss to your forehead, "Nothing changes. No matter what, we're gonna be okay, okay?"

You nod, "Do you want to get ahead of it? Maybe we tell them ourselves. It breaks our little bubble but at least it comes from us."

Spencer looks into your eyes, "Are you sure? Because sweetheart, this might not go well. I don't want you to get hurt." His palm cradles your face and you nuzzle into it.

"Spence, I'll be okay. I'm okay if we tell them, I'm okay if we don't. As long as I have you I'll be fine, baby." You smile softly. "Let's sleep on it, okay? We can talk about it in the morning?"

"That sounds good." Your lips meet for the last time that night and your eyes close to a slumber.

________

Morning comes to you in the form of your husband. He places kisses on your face, waking you up. You open your eyes, blinking them to adjust to the light. Your hand reaches to cradle Spencer's face, lowering it to kiss him.

"Good morning, Spence."

"Good morning, sweetheart." He rests his forehead on yours and breathes you in.

"Have you thought about what we're going to do, baby?"

He sighs, "I think we should tell them. Only if you feel comfortable with it."

You let out a breath, "I think I do. Let's tell them?"

He nods, bringing your knuckles to his lips.

"How are we doing this?"

"You could bring them over to dinner here tonight, if you're okay with it. Or we could do it at your old place."

"The old place sounds better. It won't be as suspicious."

"Okay, here goes nothing." You place a kiss on his forehead, letting it linger, almost like a protective charm, "I love you."

"I love you."

__________

To say his team was shocked was an understatement.

JJ starts, "What the fuck, Spence? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because we thought it best to keep it secret. We knew the judgement it would cause and we didn't want to subject each other to that." Spencer defends calmly.

JJ continues, "Spencer, she worked with Cat, she worked with your abuser! How does this make any sense to you?!"

This hit a raw nerve in him, "I know exactly who she is, so I know that she is nothing like Cat! I knew this would happen that is why you didn't hear a peep about our relationship, that is why we kept it under wraps, this is why we eloped! You guys are so quick to judge, where was this concern for me after Tobias? Where was this concern when I was drugged out of my mind and none of you gave a shit? Where was this when I was sexually assaulted by Cat?! If you didn't say shit then, you don't get to say shit now!"

Everyone goes silent. His team looks ashamed, eyes filled with guilt as they realize they hadn't truly been there for him.

You sniffle to keep your tears from falling. Spencer's breathing is heavy, all the resentment now out of his body. You hold his arm and take a shaky breath before speaking to everyone,

"I know you are all upset because you love Spence. You want him to be safe and you want him to be happy. The truth is he is, with me. Just like I am with him. We wanted to tell you ourselves because you're his family and we shouldn't have to hide from family. Cat hurt him, but she hurt me, too. She made me a criminal and I didn't even know it. So I get why you'd think I am just like her. But please let me prove to you I am nothing like her? If not for me, for him? Because I know how much you guys mean to him and I don't want to be what comes between you guys."

Spencer shakes his head before turning to you, "You don't have to prove anything to them. You don't owe them anything."

"Spence it's okay-"

"He's right," You look over to see that it was Penelope with tears in her eyes, "you don't owe us anything. I mean, I know more than anything that your past doesn't define you. And I may not be a profiler but I have a good feeling about you. I just want Spencer to be happy."

Luke adds, "Penelope's right. I'm still sceptical but I haven't seen Spencer as happy as he's been since he's been with you. I didn't know it was because of you but it's all coming together now."

"I know this might be a lot to take in so it's okay if you need time. I promise you, I love Spencer just as much as you guys do and I'll never do anything to hurt him. So till all of you come around, truce?" You bite your lip, a hopeful glint in your eyes.

Tara and Matt nod, David and Emily share a look and a small smile before Penelope excitedly blurts out, "Truce!"

You smile, relieved. JJ fixes her gaze on the two of you for a moment and then storms out of the house. You move to talk to her but Rossi stops you, "I'll talk to her. She'll come around." He smiles reassuringly and you nod.

Spencer looks down at you with adoration. The way you handled it all makes his heart swell with pride and as he promised, your love stayed the same.

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A/n: Hey y'all! I hope you like this one. Please comment, reblog and like if you do- keeps me going! Love y'all!

@lil-stark bestie I am so sorry for this atrocity lmao

[harrysgoldenline]

Hi lovie 🧡 First of all, let me just say how wonderfully amazing your writing style is. It truly takes my breath away. Keep on writing because this fandom (Harries) needs brilliant people like you to reenact our fantasies. Secondly, I saw that you were asking for requests, so I've got one for you: could you please write something (either a one shot or series) based on friends to lovers trope, where Harry's in love with his friend who's also a poet. It would be marvelous if some scenes took place in Japan, if that's possible. Once again, thank you for your work. Wish you all the best 💐

OMG YOU ARE SO SWEET!!! that is literally the sweetest thing in the whole world. thank you so much love, genuinely. 

Comments are always highly encouraged and appreciated! I love seeing what you guys think of the writing!

Support me and my writing here!

Writing with You

“Y/N, you’re finally here!” You heard Harry exclaim and you drop your bags as you seem him run towards you, literally sweeping you off your feet and spinning you around his rental home.

He had been beginning you to come and visit him and Japan and you could only use work as an excuse for so long until he came up with an elaborate plan, now here you were. 


After a few moments, he sets you back down on your feet, a massive smile on your face as he looks deep into your eyes, “I’m so fuckin’ glad you’re here.” he beamed, reaching down and grabbing your bags and cocking his head to the side as he lead you through the house, “Your room is right across from mine, if that’s alright. If I snore too loud just come in and hit me with a pillow.”

“Happily.” You laughed, giggling up at him as you followed him throughout the home, taking in the space around you, admiring his small touches he added to the rental home, “What have you been up to lately? Anything exciting?”

“Oh, you know just living the rock star life” He winked, setting your suitcase on the bed before laying down on it, extending his arms and making grabby hands at you until you lay next to him, which you happily do, “I’ve been sleeping in, writing, recording and going to bed early.”

“You are such an old man.”

“Hey!” He playfully scolded, fingers digging into your sides, “You menace! I only brought you here because I thought you would be nice to me!”

“Someones gotta keep your ego in check,” You teased, “tell the fans I say you’re welcome for the ‘arrogant son of a bitch’ lyric.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” He chuckled, shifting his body weight and laying a bit closer, eyes looking deep into yours, faces a mere foot apart at most, “speaking of, have you been writing much lately? I’d love to pick some more out of that beautiful mind.”

“I have a bit,” you blush, sitting up a bit and digging into your backpack, flipping through the pages of your notebook, seeing if anything stands out enough to show him now, but you end up just throwing it on a nearby chair and laying back down with a yawn, “I have stuff, not sure if it’s third album worthy.”

“Oh please,” he started, furrowing his eyebrows at you, sincerity in his eyes, “you are an incredible writer, I love writing with you. I’m sure the studio tomorrow will be magic. But! You need some sleep, you’ve had a long day. Can I get you a snack or drink or anything before bed?”

You shook your head, eyes closing with another yawn and your heart sinks as you feel the weight of the bed shift as he crawls out of bed, eyes fluttering back open and you give him a tired smile .

He smirked, flipping off the switch as he reached the bedroom door, “Sweet dreams, love.”

***

“I am officially mad at you,” Harry said the second you entered back into the studio that was connected into the home that he was renting, to coffees in hand.

“What did I do?” You gasp, handing him his coffee as you plopped down next to him in the studio, taking a long sip as he shook his head at you.

He remained silent, pulling your notebook out of his back pocket and flipping through the pages, his long fingers trailing along them as you could see his lips move, silently reading them to himself. He looked back up at you, closing the notebook and handing it back to you.

“These are all incredible! What do you mean none of ‘em are good enough for the album?”

“Really?”

He smiled and nodded quickly, snatching the notebook back from you as he flipped back through the pages while drinking from his mug. Soon, he hands the open notebook back take you, swallowing the warm liquid as he tapped on the open page, a love poem on the page.

“This one…” he began, “is breathtaking. Most definitely my favorite.”

It’s about you. You wanted to say, looking up at your best friend, but instead you say, “help me finish it? I have some more ideas for lyrics but you are the musical mastermind.”

“I would love to.”

So you two worked together, hours passing as if they were minutes as you huddled together at the piano, thighs pressing together as Harry practiced different melodies, the sound of his voice calming you further.

You couldn’t help but close your eyes as you listened to his voice, humming along where he requested so he could help visualize different melodies. Drifting off into the music, you leaned your forehead against his shoulder. Harry kept playing away at the piano, stopping every few measures or so to scribble away on the sheet music, testing out different melodies and lyrics the two of you pieced together.

“I love this so far…” he whispered, looking at you quickly, “I haven’t felt this excited about a song in so long. Thank you.”

“Harry, you wrote the majority of it!” you laughed, playfully shoving him, “I just had, like, a verse and a half.”

“You inspired what I wrote!” He chuckled, glancing down at you, eyes softening, “in more ways then one.”

Your quickly help your heart beat accelerating slightly, looking up at him wide eyed as you struggled to find the words.

“I mean…” he slowly began, adjusting his body so he was fully facing you, “I mean… your words inspired me to write but… it’s also just you, Y/N… You inspire me.”

His eyes were pleading with you, gnawing on his bottom lip as his hands trembled, praying that you understood what he was saying.

“You inspire me too.”

“Did I inspire this song? Is it… about us?”

You slowly nodded, looking down at your shaking hands, “look, I understand if you don’t feel the same but-“

You were cut off with a kiss, two strong hands grabbing your face as your best friends lips crashed onto yours. You kiss back in an instant, hands coming up to his shoulders, tugging on the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly against your lips and the second you nod he’s kissing you again, as if to try and make the years of waiting pay off in a single kiss.

Which he was able to accomplish.

He pulls back slightly, pressing a few soft pecks onto your lips before you two look at each other, a blush covering both of your cheeks.

“So…” he smiles, his fingers dancing over the back of your hand before intertwining your fingers, lifting your hand and kissing it, “will you be mine? Finally?

“Yes.” you smirk at him, a hand coming up to his face as you kiss his cheek before letting out a laugh, “So… you gonna give me writing credit this time?”

Harry let’s out a loud laugh, standing up at the piano bench and throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you back into the house, “I knew I love you.”

[of-birds-and-men]

Kass gave Link a warm smile, the early morning sun dipping him in honey and making his smile glow even more. “Well, this is quite out of the blue. Not even a ‘hello?’ Much less a ‘please?’”

Link’s lips snapped into a flustered frown. “I’m sorry,” he frantically signed. “Please, could you teach me?”

After throwing his head back to bellow a laugh, Kass chuckled, “I am only messing with you, my friend. Do not worry.” He patted the spot next to him on the landing where he sat, signaling Link to sit by him. “I’m curious about what song you want to play. Which is it?”

Accepting the invitation to sit next to Kass, Link kept his head down as he shuffled over. His eyes flicked around and his cheeks started to redden the slightest bit. Why the answer embarrassed him so much, he wasn’t so sure, but it was hard to get his reply out.

“Ah,” Kass said with his smile still prominent on his beak as he set his accordion down next to him. “Do you mean to learn the other Champions’ songs as well?”

Link breathed in through his teeth and shrugged. “Maybe. But I want to learn Revali’s right now if I can...”

Kass looked down at him with raised eyebrows, as if gently urging him to elaborate. 

With that, Link rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged again. “Well...I don’t know. I had some memories come to me, but they’re foggy and I can barely understand them. But, something is telling me today is Revali’s…” His hand dropped and his brow furrowed in thought. He knew the sign for the Hylian term but didn’t know it for the Rito if there even was one for it. Opting to fingerspell, Link spelled it out with his fingers as Kass read it closely.

When he was finished, Kass’s beak hung open a little in interest. “Oh, so today is Champion Revali’s Hatchday? I had no idea.”

“Yeah, I…”

“...I think so.”

“You mean to play his song in his memory today?”

Link’s cheeks burned brighter. “Is that stupid?”

“Oh, no. Not in the slightest,” Kass assured, waving his hand. “In fact, I think it’s a lovely idea.”

“...Thanks. I don’t know what else I would do anyway. If there was something, I don’t remember it,” Link said, his hands moving slowly. His mind drifted; not that there was anywhere for it to go after his century-long sleep practically wiped it clean. 

He brought himself back to where he was with a sigh. “I don’t know. I would do something or leave him a gift, but I remember next to nothing about him. I don’t remember what he liked or even what he hated. Nothing...”

It was true. There were only a couple of clear memories of Revali that Link remembered now. Only a few moments where Link could see his face and hear his voice clearly. And then there were even more blurry, foggy images of him that were slowly trickling in and left Link with more questions than answers. Leaving him feeling like there was so much more that he was missing. Almost like he was missing an important part of himself; of what his life had been before Calamity Ganon struck.

Really, it was the same thing with everyone; with Zelda, Mipha, Urbosa, and Daruk. Brief memories, some clear and some so hazy they were beyond recognition.

But with Revali, it was somehow different. It hurt more. It was severely more painful. It made both his heart and head ache. And he had no idea why it was the case for Revali out of all of them. Why the one who seemed to like him the least, or even hated him, made Link feel this longing...No, this need...to remember and know him like he used to. However it had been.

Still, even though his mind was riddled by all sorts of questions he couldn’t answer after forgetting everything but his own name…

Something within him couldn’t quite let itself completely forget.

“But I know that I have to do something for him and this is all I can think of,” Link finished, taking his time with every hand motion as he stared down at the lake below them; the surface of the water was almost black with the light of the morning sun not having reached it yet.

Noticing the gloom that was beginning to dawn on Link again, Kass leaned over and spoke up in a chipper voice. “It is more than a generous gift. Do not sell yourself short. I’m sure that if he is still there to listen, he will be grateful.” 

Link forced a small smile to give to Kass. “Thank you. I hope you’re right.”

Kass let the corners of his beak curl all the way up to try and settle whatever troubles he thought Link had. “I must say though, I did not take you for the musical type,” he began. “What does a man like you play?”

Letting out a short hum, Link fumbled around in the small bag on his belt to show the instrument in question. Once he fished it out, he held it out for Kass to see.

It was an ocarina he had come across in his travels. His curiosity had driven him to buy it with the extra rupees he had on hand when he saw it amongst Beedle’s wares. Though, it wasn’t until he actually held it and felt the cool ceramic touch on his skin and the shape in his hands, did he realize it was not so much curiosity as it was familiarity. Or something close to it.

And again, it was proven to Link that while his head was clear of what made him himself in the past, there were many things that his body seemed to remember. Muscle memory helped him ride horses like a pro straight away, and instinct along with that allowed him to fight the way he had before without needing to relearn much of anything. It was the same sort of thing for the ocarina; as soon as he brought the mouthpiece to his lips, his fingers knew exactly where to go to play notes he didn’t remember and songs he couldn’t recall. It all came to him naturally as if playing it was once something that was ingrained in him. And he found himself occasionally fiddling with it until now. Too busy to really sit down and learn anything new, but playing what his lips and fingers remembered when he had a moment to himself.

If Link couldn’t leave Revali a proper gift on his Hatchday, then at least he could play his song, one of the last things the world had left to remember him by. Whether it was for Revali himself, if he was still there, or if it was in his memory on his day.

Or, even if it was just for Link; a way to remember Revali with what little he had left.

Hopefully, it would be enough. But it definitely didn’t feel like it, even if it was all he could really do.

“An ocarina certainly does suit you,” Kass said, looking at the instrument in Link’s hands before peering at him and pointing at it. “Ah, may I?”

Link nodded, allowing Kass to take the ocarina in his hands and examine it himself.

“Can you play it, too?” Link asked.

Tittering, Kass replied, “Well, Rito aren’t exactly equipped to play wind instruments, considering our anatomy.” He tapped his beak. “Though, I think once I found a way around it to make it work with this blasted thing on my face. Would you mind if I tried?”

Link’s lips tightly creased together to keep him from smirking as he shook his head and motioned toward the ocarina. He watched as Kass brought it to his beak, which clacked against the ceramic as he tried to find the best position.

Kass’ feathers ruffled; clearly, he was flustered, but he tried his best to get past it by laughing it off. “Well, this is certainly humbling. This proves that no matter how esteemed of a bard I may be, I simply cannot master everything...What with my pesky beak and less than graceful fingers.” He rubbed the mouthpiece of the ocarina on his scarf before handing it back to Link.

With how much spit he saw flying from Kass when he was trying the ocarina, Link decided to rub it again on his clothes for good measure. 

Kass let out another embarrassed chuckle and twisted around to grab his accordion. “I might not be able to give you direction, but I can teach you the notes.”

Link nodded. “That works,” he said, his last words before readying his hands to focus on his ocarina rather than on speaking.

Smiling while he slid his hands through his instrument’s straps, Kass said, “Well, let’s begin then.”

~

Link opened his mouth to say something, finding himself gaping at Vah Medoh, but clamped it shut again. He attached the ocarina to his belt for a moment to speak with his hands.

Whether he was really alone or if there was still someone there to see him, he was not sure at all. After the defeat of Ganon, he was never sure what happened to Revali or the others.

Even so...he had the feeling he wasn’t quite alone.

But maybe that was just him being hopeful. Hopeful that he wasn’t just making a fool of himself. Grasping at straws for nothing.

“Hi.” Instantly, he cringed at himself and hissed through his teeth. Now he really felt stupid. Nonetheless, he made himself go on. “I’m not sure if you’re even here right now or if I’m talking to myself. But, either way-“ Link took a second to swallow and fix his eyes back down to the ground beneath him. “I wish I could say I remember you. There are only little things I remember, but something is telling me there’s so much more to you...to us...that I’m still missing.”

Link licked his lips. He hoped that he was, in fact, alone, so Revali wouldn’t be seeing him rambling on to himself.

“But I know that we were close somehow. I feel that, once, you were the most important thing to me, but that’s all I know. I’m sorry.” He bit his lip that was still wet from when he licked them. “That’s why when I remembered it was your birthday-“ Link froze, then corrected, “Sorry, hatchday...I knew I had to do something for you, because, in a way, you still matter to me now as much as you did before. But you’re still a mystery to me; I know nothing about you further than you being a Champion and being the pride of your people.” He laughed a little to himself. “And that you didn’t like me at all. At first, at least. I’m not sure.”

Finally, he racked up the courage to look back up at Vah Medoh. “I do know your song though, which I’m sure you’d like to know is played by bards to keep your memory alive. I’m not one of those at all, but I can just barely remember how to play this thing and Kass taught me how to play your song. One of the things of yours that’s still here- Even if these are all the memories I can ever have of you, at least I can have this. And your bow, too.”

Nervously, he started to chuckle to himself. “I don’t know what I’m saying. Maybe I never should’ve said anything. Anyway, the point is...I know it’s a crummy present and I don’t know if you’re even still here to listen, but I learned how to play your song for you.”

Done with his monologue, Link anxiously took the ocarina off of his belt. For a moment, he stared at it and focused on the cool touch of it in his hand before slowly bringing it up to his mouth. He took in a deep breath while his fingers went to their places and he played what he learned for Revali.

Dormant, Vah Medoh said nothing in reply, leaving Revali alone to revel in both Link’s appearance and song. That was fine. He honestly hadn’t expected her to reply anyway.

Even when he couldn’t even remember him, Link was still annoyingly sentimental. It brought bittersweet comfort that, even with everything that had happened, it was still the same Link before him. His Link.

He had the same golden hair he used to run his fingers through. The same lustrous, sapphire eyes he used to stare into. The same quiet laugh that warmed Revali’s heart. The same strength that Revali both envied and once fell in love with. The same kindness. The same courage. The same everything. Every little thing Revali loved and even hated about him was still there, down below, playing a song for someone he didn’t even know anymore.

Still, it hurt knowing Link didn’t know him. Seeing no recollection on his face when Link first came to Vah Medoh...Seeing Link looking at him as if he was a stranger…

Well, it nearly broke his heart. To be eventually forgotten by his people was worse enough, but then to have the one he loved come back to him only to forget him, too…

Revali sniffed, resting his hand under his chin to watch Link far down below. 

Link was right. This was a crummy present. His finger clumsily fumbled around and he kept blowing into the ocarina’s mouthpiece too hard or too soft. Even from here, he could see his spit flying. Funny how, even over a hundred years later, he never did get better with that thing.

He really was still his Link. Just how he remembered him. Just how he loved him. How he would, unfortunately, always love him. Even if it meant being unrequited for the rest of time.

~~~

GASPS OUT OF BREATH,,,,,, WOW OKAY,, umm LOL here is le @revalinkexchange gift for @mars-janka ??? I. hm. certainly took some liberties and for some reason with my srs lack of expertise ..I was like “HEY I KNOW HOW TO MAKE THIS INFINITELY HARDER ON MYSELF!!! WRITE AND ALSO DRAW A BILLION PICTURES WHICH IS SOMETHING I BARELY KNOW HOW 2 DO.” 

//sobs// i was so drained of my life juices by the end that the quality DROPPED and im genuinely so sorry pls forgive me wwwwwwwwwwww- i even redrew the last link panels to try and make it better if u can believe it LOL i also was considering making a prose only version of this to make up for it but i honestly don’t know how to translate some bits to that...SO- ah

anyway...yaaaaaaaahhh happy valentine’s day!! hope u still like it despite my clear depletion of life juices dskjghkjag

also teehee ty @udog​ for helping me w vah medoh u smell

[mercy-burning]

Losing You Twice / 1: If I Hated You

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day weekend, and it turns out Y/N isn’t the only one struggling with the breakup. Category: Smut (18+), Angst Content Warnings: Language, drinking/getting drunk, penetrative/unprotected sex (If I missed anything, please let me know!) Word Count: 5,538

SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

“My bedtime is the darkest, that’s when I’m brokenhearted. The nighttime is the hardest. It’d be easy, if I hated you.” —FLETCHER, If I Hated You

FEBRUARY 13th

It was Valentine's Day weekend, which sucked this time around. Every year for the past three years Y/N looked forward to Valentine's Day, but that was when she actually had someone to spend it with.

Well, someone she actually cared about, anyway... Whether or not Spencer actually knew it, she did really care about him. She was just stupid and didn't say it when he needed to hear it the most.

And now Valentine's Day was on Saturday and Y/N was still without him. Not alone, but still without the man who'd spent the significant holiday with her for the past three years. Memories of their dates and 'afterparties' flooded through her mind as she got ready for work like a montage, a cheesy love-song playlist she'd found on Spotify acting as the soundtrack.

Eventually she sighed and turned it off, opting for something more loud and obnoxious, and therefore not tainted by Spencer's memory. She applied what was left of her makeup and added a pair of earrings before turning the music off altogether and shoving her phone in her bag alongside her keys and other necessities.

Even though she wasn't emotionally prepared for all the cheesy Valentine's things she'd see and hear and experience throughout the weekend, it was still kind of nice to see that things in the bank never changed during the holidays— Everything in her life was so severely different at the moment, that if Marjorie had somehow decided to throw out all her elaborate decorations for each holiday, no matter how small, Y/N would have thought the world was truly ending.

Speaking of, she was met with Marjorie's brighter-than-the-sun smile almost immediately once she set her things in the breakroom.

"How's my little macaron this morning?" she chirped, Y/N chuckling slightly at the nickname— She brought macarons from the bakery down the street on her first birthday she spent at the bank, and ever since then, the older woman had adorned her with the namesake.

"She's alright, Marj... Better now that she's seen you..."

"That boy still on your mind, hon?"

Obviously Marjorie's intentions were good, but Y/N couldn't stand to think about the situation at all, least of all at work... So, setting her jacket on the rack, turned away so that her coworker wouldn't see the visible discomfort on her face, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and cleared her throat. "So, what are your plans with Geno tomorrow night? Anything special?"

There was a brief pause before Marjorie cleared her throat as well. "Nothing short of our usual dinner plans, my dear. He's been so caught up with work at the Mill lately, I think we're just going to spend the night relaxing."

"Hm," Y/N said shortly, finally turning around and giving her the best smile she could. "Maybe I should take a page from your book and stay in..."

"You weren't going to?"

"No... Britt's been nagging me about getting out there so we're going out tomorrow night. We both haven't been single in a long time, so... Should be fun."

Marjorie didn't look convinced. Either way, she nodded with a smile and walked over to Y/N with something glittery and bright red in her hand— A cheap beaded necklace to clip her nametag onto. She draped it over Y/N's neck and patted her shoulders. "Well, I want you to have fun. And remember that you still have to come to work on Monday. Whatever shenanigans you get into should be reserved for Saturday night only so you can rest properly on Sunday, got it?"

Y/N laughed, thankful for the playful tone in Marjorie's voice. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Oh, I joke, I joke," the older woman said with a bright laugh, turning to walk out of the break room. "A little..."

The smile on Y/N's face only really lasted until after Marjorie was out of sight, then she went into her bag and clipped her nametag onto the red beaded necklace with a sigh.

Was she excited to have a good night out with Britt? Of course. Hell, had it been literally any other day of the year, she would have been practically bouncing off the walls with excitement at the idea of going out to a bar, letting men hit on her until she finally let one of them take her back to his place for the night.

But it just felt like it was too soon.

Either way, she was glad that she'd get to see Britt again, after she'd been on vacation for Christmas and New Year's to see her family and only got back a few weeks ago. She'd seen her on Facetime of course, and they met up once for coffee right after Britt got back from her trip, but a well-needed night out and quality time getting ready together was something that had been missing from their friendship for almost a year.

Y/N knew Britt would most likely spend her time trying to hook them up with end-of-the-night dates, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad...

Even still, sleeping alone the night before was probably one of the worst spells of loneliness she'd ever had. It was normal to be sad spending the first Valentine's Day in years away from a significant other, but knowing how things ended between them—bitter and stained with words left unsaid—this time was just... cold.

And that was putting it lightly.

Y/N laid in bed that night, her eyes wide open and staring at the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars that adorned the ceiling. They used to give her comfort, but now they just reminded her of all the nights she'd spend with Spencer, listening to him tell stories about the constellations. They were some of the most peaceful memories she had.

And now those, too—those stars that had grounded her pretty much all her life and reminded her of the better days—were tainted by her inability to properly communicate.

She almost thought about taking them down.

But if she was really going to get over him this time, for good, then she'd have to learn to make new memories with the stars. Even if it was painful. Even if replacing those memories and writing new ones over them absolutely tore her soul to pieces.

And, as if that pain wasn't enough, that night Y/N dreamt of him, making love to her amongst the stars in every galaxy, only to wake up the next morning cold and alone.

FEBRUARY 14th

She promptly decided that she hated his guts.

It was Valentine's Day, Y/N was respectfully buzzed, and courtesy of two beers and four shots of tequila, she'd just deleted Spencer's number from her phone.

"I'm done," she said, waving a hand at Britt and shoving her phone in her purse. "He doesn't deserve my wallowing."

"Yeah!"

Britt was significantly the more drunk of the two, resulting in a fit of giggles after gaining some stares from the people around them at her sudden outburst.

Y/N smiled, finishing off another shot and shaking her head. "We need more!"

"More shots!" Britt hurried off to grab them, leaving her friend behind with a half-drunken smile that also only felt half-genuine.

Sure, she decided she hated Spencer's guts, but her heart didn't exactly agree well with that sentiment. Even after deleting his number from her phone, after downing all that alcohol, her heart still ached.

Y/N knew deep down that getting over him was going to take some time. A lot of time... But maybe one night of distraction would help.

So the shots kept coming, and by the end of the night, Y/N was just about at her limit.

Which was near black-out drunk. And when you're that drunk you tend to make decisions you wouldn't soberly condone.

Britt got into a cab, and she begged Y/N to come with her, but she assured her friend that she had someone to come pick her up. Eventually the cab driver got tired of their inability to decide, and when Y/N told him to go, he did, leaving her alone on the side of the street at 1am.

Unfortunately, it was incredibly cold, and she didn't really have anyone to come pick her up. And that's where the bad decisions started.

Y/N pulled her phone out, a long sigh escaping her as she dialed the number by heart.

Would he even pick up? He hadn't answered any of her calls or texts before, so why would it have been any different now? Not to mention it was Valentine's Day Weekend. With her luck, he was probably in bed with someone else. Someone who wasn't her. As she listened to the dial tone repeating in her ear, images of him wrapped up with somebody else—sleeping in the bed she'd slept in many times before—clouded her drunken brain and made her more angry than anything.

Her gut twisted, and she almost hung up.

But then the low buzz of the dial tone abruptly stopped and in its place came his voice.

"Y/N?"

Her name on his lips, even through the phone, was grounding, the anger in her system melting away and revealing a coat of drunken relief.

"Spencer! You answered!"

"Yeah... Are you— Is everything okay?"

"Pff, yeah, 'm-fine. Just really fucking cold."

"You're not outside, are you?"

"Duh, I'm outside... I wouldn't be cold in-side... Besides, I didn't call t'alk bout the weather, I need you t'come pick me up."

There was a brief pause, and for a moment Y/N didn't think he was going to say anything she wanted to hear. She swayed on the sidewalk, shivering and praying that he would throw her a bone, even if she'd regret it all in the morning.

"Where are you?" he said finally, and despite herself, she smiled.

FEBRUARY 15th

Spencer couldn't believe he was picking her up at near two in the morning.

Honestly, he'd initially thought about ignoring her call again, but remembering the day it was and taking note of the time, he figured she was most likely in some type of inebriated trouble.

His instincts were right, of course, but he wished that he could have been wrong. He wished she'd only been calling to drunkenly ramble on about how she missed him or maybe how he was stupid and she never wanted to see his face ever again, because that was normal. At least then he could have hung up after she was done and never thought about it again— it was a normal step in any relationship that helped move things along. They could have gotten on with their lives and it would have all been over.

But of course it was never that simple.

Y/N was never that simple.

He pictured her on the street near some bar, alone and cold and drunk, and of course he would have been the only one she could call to rescue her. After all, he'd been pretty much the only thing she'd ever known to make her feel safe.

Still, he wished he was capable of only giving her a ride home and then leaving.

But again, it was never that simple.

It was easy getting her into the car— that wasn't what he was worried about. Rather, it was the fated moment where she'd ask him to stay after he finally got her tucked safely into bed that worried him. Because it was bad enough that it was Y/N... It was her in all her alluring glory, and he'd never been able to deny her anything no matter how badly he tried or wanted to.

Now add on the fact that she was drunk, and most likely sad on their first Valentine's Day apart, and it was a recipe for disaster.

Even if she'd broken his heart, Spencer still cared about her.

Which is why he inevitably agreed to stay, at least until she fell asleep.

He knew her well enough to know all the ways she'd try to get him under the covers with her, so it was a familiar amusement that settled in his being when he was finally able to get on top of the covers with her underneath. But as he entertained her silly little questions with the right answers until she fell asleep, Spencer noticed something else accompanying that amusement.

Guilt.

And then anger for feeling guilty about her sadness— sadness that could have been avoided had she just gotten over whatever was holding her back and either returned his "I love you" or  told him she wasn't feeling the same way just yet.

All she had to do was talk.

He had a right to feel upset about Y/N holding back when he'd been nothing but patient, spending almost every year of their relationship trying to make her see that she had nothing to be afraid of. He'd given her every chance to talk about what she was feeling, whether it was happy or not, and every time she pushed it all away in favor of sex.

That wasn't what he wanted in a relationship, so he ended it. And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.

So why was he feeling so fucking guilty?

He blamed his good nature and innate need to please people, to make them feel good and happy. But he also blamed Y/N and her adorable drunken sleeping face.

He watched as she slept, willing himself not to forget the way she hurt him. She'd completely stolen his heart and shattered it at the same time, and if he was being honest, she still held some of the pieces. But he couldn't get them back, not if he didn't want to risk shattering her own heart in the process.

It felt like they were tied together by some strong, invisible force that wouldn't break unless both of them broke right along with it.

So... maybe he could afford to leave those pieces of his heart with her. He'd have to if they were going to get out of this alive. Not unscathed, sure, but alive nonetheless.

Once he was sure she was deep in sleep, Spencer quietly and carefully got off the bed and navigated through her apartment, getting her a glass of water and leaving it on the table next to her bed. And because he couldn't help it, he cleaned up some of the clothes that were scattered around her floor, depositing them into the hamper and straightening out a few more things that were out of place.

He looked over at her sleeping figure one more time, sighed, and then left, keeping her bedroom door open just a crack.

***

Spencer knew he shouldn't have stayed longer.

Despite his better judgement, he'd plopped himself down on her couch after making sure she was sound asleep, hoping to catch his breath and sort through what he was feeling before he got behind the wheel. But of course, it was 2am and he was exhausted, and he couldn't stop himself from closing his eyes and drifting off.

And now he was sitting up, looking around the apartment through the lens of morning.

Though the curtains were sheer, they didn't provide much light, but enough of it showed him just how familiar the space was. Y/N hadn't moved anything around. The same art was on the same walls, the potted ivy plant on her mantle sat un-watered and withering, and every book and record and DVD on her shelves was in the exact same spot as they'd all been the last time he was there in December.

Meanwhile, after the breakup he'd re-arranged everything. He was so sure that they were through for good this time around that he wanted a clean slate. Not that he wanted to rid himself of her memory completely, but if he was going to move on from the hold she'd had on him, he had to do something...

And yet, he ended up at her apartment the morning after Valentine's Day all the same.

He heard the shower running faintly a couple rooms away. You didn't have to pass the couch to get there, so maybe she hadn't seen him sleeping and he could get away cleanly.

Spencer scrambled off the couch, thankful that he hadn't removed his jacket or his shoes and that he could just sprint towards the door without having to find any of his belongings.

But as luck would have it, the second he took a step, the shower turned off. He had to get out of there quickly, but if he did then she'd definitely know he'd stayed overnight. But if he went quietly, he wouldn't have enough time before she caught him.

Maybe I could hide...

He shook the thought with a roll of his eyes, settling on the clearest course of action, which was to make as quick of a getaway as he could. He'd try to be quiet as well, though the creaky door was going to be nearly impossible to get through without a sound.

His hand was on the doorknob when he heard her voice.

"You didn't think you could spend the night and then leave without saying goodbye, did 'ja?"

The pure amusement in her tone made his stomach churn, and it wasn't unpleasant in the slightest.

Spencer turned and smiled softly, avoiding looking at her completely. "Sorry. Didn't want to bother you."

"You're never a bother."

That sentiment held less amusement and more sincerity, which was what guided his eyes to meet the woman who said the words.

His stomach twisted again when he saw her, exactly like he knew she'd be— wrapped in nothing but a thin towel with near-dripping hair cascading down her back. Her legs were bare and exposed, the towel not only thin but short, which meant that her chest was also practically spilling out of it. Despite the obvious and inevitable hungover look in her eye, there was also a good splash of that mischief that'd always been there— the kind that spelled out trouble.

He needed to get out of there.

"Well, um... I'm glad I got you home safe," he said, clearing his throat. "I should... I should go."

"You sure you don't wanna stay for breakfast?"

Spencer could have sworn she was teasing him, dangling her body in front of him like a meal they both knew he wouldn't be able to resist. But then she added, "I've got everything I need for your favorite omelet," and he exhaled with a small smile, exhausted with his own mind for convincing him that she was out to pull him back in.

Still, he declined. "No, I... I shouldn't. But, uh, thank you..."

"You sure?"

This time when he looked up at her, she was closer. She was gently striding forward to meet him, and he half thought about backing up towards the door until he realized he was already there.

"I—I'm sure. Really."

"But you drove around all night just to take me home when I was drunk, the least I can do is feed you..."

"Eh, it's alright. It's... Nothing I haven't done before."

She stopped then, her eyes briefly dropping to the floor. It was like her whole demeanor changed—just for a second—from the prowess she'd always been, to what seemed to be a woman filled with sadness and regret. It didn't last long though, just enough for Spencer to notice it before she looked back up at him with that wicked gleam in her eye and a remark right at the tip of her tongue.

"Still. I feel bad, making you do all that for me... Especially now."

He wasn't sure what to make of this... It seemed like she was sincere, but she was also alluring, calling to him like a siren leading him to his ultimate demise. And while he'd come to know that as merely a part of her nature, he couldn't help but shake the feeling that she was doing it on purpose.

She was in a skimpy towel, after all, and she definitely knew how to use that to her advantage.

It didn't help that he didn't have the courage to leave. Everything inside of him right then longed to drop that towel and indulge himself once more. Putting aside all the heartache and the differences they shared, all he felt in that moment was the need to touch her— to get lost in her and never be found again.

She was his fatal flaw, and it was painfully obvious.

Spencer knew he shouldn't have stayed longer...

He was over to her in just three strides, throwing off his jacket and tossing it aside before cradling her face with his hands and bringing their lips together for the first time since Christmas Eve.

The small whine in her throat signaled that she hadn't expected it, but welcomed it all the same. The moment she lifted her arms to wrap around his neck, the towel fell to the floor, and there was no going back.

"What about breakfast?" Y/N breathed out once they pulled away for air.

Spencer contemplated, studying her face, seeing the way her eyes sparkled, and decided on the two words that sealed his fate.

"Screw breakfast."

Their lips were melded together almost as soon as the words left his mouth. And it wasn't long before every other part of their bodies were melded together as well.

Y/N helped him take the rest of his clothes off as they danced around the entryway and the living room. Everything was open, no walls separating the living room from the kitchen, so to compensate for the lack of breakfast they'd be eating, they migrated to the kitchen counter once Spencer had off everything but his boxers.

He trapped her against the cool marble of the countertop, her back hitting it solid and sending a shiver up her spine. Meanwhile his hands roamed her body, unsure of where to be other than on her at all times, whether it be her waist, her stomach, her arms, her breasts, or her ass. He wanted to feel all of her, and quite frankly she wanted the same.

She even told him so, in her own way, by bringing one of her legs up and wrapping it around his waist, pulling him closer to her as she wove her fingers through his hair and tasted his tongue with her own.

The action elicited a groan from his mouth, low and desperate. Spencer settled his hands on her waist and gripped it tight, silently telling her what to do.

So she jumped up and he helped guide her swiftly onto the counter. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist again, and he found himself grinding into her hips, urgent to feel every part of her. And thankfully she was feeling rather desperate herself, because she rolled her hips up into him in return, breaking their mouths apart just briefly to speak.

"Fuck me..."

There was so much he wanted to say to her in that moment— how badly he was feeling about keeping her entertained while he was slowly deteriorating inside from her emotional detachment and rejection, how much she frustrated him, and more prominently, how she was so goddamn impatient and that he was getting there...

But all that he could manage was a broken, desperate whisper of her name.

It was all he'd ever known.

All that frustration... All that anger, heartache, passion, and time apart combined beautifully into those few syllables that made up her name and tore him apart from the inside out.

And his hands were just as destructive.

Spencer deftly dropped his boxers to the ground and pushed forward, almost losing all sense of self the moment the head of his dick finally made contact with her cunt. He made his way inside of her and then used both of his hands to grip her waist and bring her closer, their mouths connecting harshly as they found one another once again.

His grip was bruising— not possessive in any way, but desperate, like he had to cling to her for dear life or he wouldn't live to see another day. He held himself inside her, sighing and whimpering into her mouth as she clenched around him. It was so familiar, so comfortable and exhilarating that he almost didn't even want to move. He thought about staying there, still inside her forever.

But as always, Y/N was insatiable.

She wrapped all her limbs around him and held on, rolling her hips and seeking friction in any way possible when she briefly tore her lips away from his.

"I need you, baby, please..."

Even as his heart started to rumble in his chest, well aware of the fact that she still probably didn't love him the way he loved her, Spencer gave her everything. He pulled out and snapped his hips forward again, setting a strong, steady pace that had Y/N's eyes rolling back, and the payoff of hearing her sigh out his name was more than enough to keep him going.

Her nails dug deliciously into his shoulders, the faint sting adding something reminiscent of gasoline to a fire. The flames grew taller and brighter the more he fucked her, and with each gradual increase of volume and intensity, it was a wonder the whole kitchen around them hadn't literally burst into flames.

That's how they always were.

Together like this, so lost in the high of each others' bodies, it was easy to forget the things that made their relationship so hard. It was easy to let all the negativity slip away into the throes of pent-up, well-needed sex. The high they gave each other was merely that— A high...

A distraction.

And while that's exactly what Y/N needed, what she preferred in most cases, it's what Spencer recognized as completely unhealthy, despite his coming back to it every time.

It's also why he dreaded the moment ending. Because once they came down from the high, all that's left would be sadness, regret... Guilt... Their fire burned hot, brightly and wildly, but in the aftermath would lay only a thick layer of deadly smoke between them— hard to navigate, and nearly impossible to breathe in without suffocating.

So they simply burned and burned and burned...

Spencer gripped her so tight he was sure to leave her with bruising. And in turn Y/N dragged her nails down his back and dug them into his ass, her palm laying firmly over the muscles that aided in fucking her into the marbled surface. She whined out curses and moans, and he cried out broken whispers of her name, pet names, and curses alike.

Even once she'd come, he kept going, willing himself to hold on as long as he could. She whined into his ear at the overstimulation. And rather than keeping her legs wrapped around his body, she decided to spread them wide, perching her heels up on the counter as far as she could go and anchoring her fingers through his hair.

And though she might not have had enough orgasms in her to keep up with him, she welcomed it all the same—She welcomed the burn just as much as he did.

Even still, no fire can burn forever.

All concept of time was lost by the time Spencer finally collapsed forward, completely spent and barely standing on weak legs after coming twice. Y/N held onto him tightly to keep him upwards, lightly massaging his scalp with gentle fingers and closing her eyes as she focused on his breathing— the way it fanned over the skin of her bare shoulder and how it sounded, perfectly in time with hers...

It was the most peaceful she'd been in a long time.

She felt him pull out of her, the both of them groaning at the feeling, and a little at the mess it would make.

Spencer gently peeled his body off of hers, sniffing once and avoiding her eyes. "Sorry... You just got out of the shower..."

"It's fine," Y/N breathed. She begged him silently to look her in the eye, but he remained still... Most likely thinking. She could practically see the cogs turning in his brain.

So, in an effort to lighten the mood a bit, she added with a breathy laugh, "Besides... It's nothing I haven't done before."

The callback to his words—and memories of all the times they'd found themselves in this position before—got Spencer to laugh a little, but he still wouldn't meet her eyes.

Finally, he cleared his throat. "I'll... I'll grab the wipes?"

"Oh. Sure," Y/N returned with a thankful smile. It was hopeful, too, though the moment he was out of eyesight, it turned rather sad.

She'd known that behavior before, seen that hesitation in his movements and that sound in his voice.

It was guilt.

Regret.

Probably a bit of self-hatred, too.

When he returned, a pile of her clothes in hand and the bag of wipes on top, she took them from him with a kind smile and cleaned herself up while he put his clothes back on.

The silence was more uncomfortable than anything either of them had ever experienced.

So much so, that Y/N couldn't even muster up the courage to ask him to stay for breakfast— and she always did after one of their post-break hookups.

Maybe this time really was different.

Spencer was just at the door again when she stopped him.

"Thank you," she said. Her voice was so small, he almost didn't hear it. "For bringing me home..."

But he paused, turned, and finally looked her in the eye.

He almost sunk to his knees right there...

Seeing her, arms crossed like she was trying to keep warm, as her head hung low and she looked up at him through sad, hooded eyelids...

It reminded him of the woman he fell in love with.

But in his peripheral, he saw the towel on the floor and was reminded of the woman who'd shattered his heart.

Spencer cleared his throat. Once upon a time he might have returned her thanks with, Anytime, but... Honestly he wasn't sure there could ever be another time. For his sanity, he'd have to avoid 'anytime' at all costs.

So, he settled on, "You're welcome."

He was glad to see her return his kind smile with one of her own, even if it was tainted with sadness, and a small wave goodbye.

Maybe this time it would stick.

Even still, as he closed the door behind him and made his way to the parking lot, for some reason it didn't quite feel like goodbye.

And some of that deadly smoke that settled in his lungs as he drove further and further away from her apartment was inclined to agree.

***

Neither of them could sleep that night.

While Spencer stared out the window of the jet, a little annoyed to be called out on a case so late but at least thankful for the distraction, Y/N laid in bed, staring at the stars on her ceiling.

The same constellation caught their eye.

Columba.

The Dove.

She hadn't even meant to arrange the stars like that, but one night after a date, they were laying in her bed and Spencer pointed out that the cluster of plastic stars right in the corner of the ceiling looked like Columba.

Y/N fondly remembered Spencer telling her about how it was originally named to represent Noah's dove, which searched for dry land during the great biblical flood and returned carrying an olive branch to make news of its recession— of peace at last.

The memory made her smile. It tugged at her heart and made her dreams of him even more vivid.

All the same, Spencer noticed the constellation outside the jet window and remembered that same night. The smile on her face as he told her the story, the feel of her fingers gliding softly over the bare skin of his forearm...

It was the first night since he'd met her that he thought it.

I love her...

He almost told her then, too, but he was afraid it was too soon. So he refrained.

Looking back, Spencer was starting to regret that— Maybe without that extra time together, breaking up would have been easier. But instead, he gave her more time. He gave himself more time to fall deeper in love with her, and in the end it still wasn't enough.

Now they were both looking at the same constellation, one made of plastic and the other of gas, wondering if their flood would ever recede.

And in the event that it did... Who would be the dove, and what would be their olive branch?

“You know I dream about getting back together in the future, I could focus on you. But if I leave right now, I hope that you don’t find someone that touches you the way that I do...”

***

SERIES TAGLIST:   @reidyoulikeabook​ @yourmisosoup​ @fortheloveofcriminalminds​ @bellzo17​ @altsvu​ @flipperpenguins​ @mcumorningstar​

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[bleachhaven]

Congrats on 1500 followers😊😊😊 can I request NSFW headcanons/scenario of Shunsui coming home late and waking up his wife for sex💋 Thanks!!!

Yes please goddamn it! I love these request for everyone’s favorite Bleach husband!

I have many feels about this man and I intended to write headcanons but this turned into a scenario instead. So this turned out to be almost 1900 words. I clearly got carried away, and it is evident that I have thought about this scenario way too much. I won’t apologize for it. Shunsui seduced me by simply existing!

Kyouraku Shunsui comes home late to wake up his wife for some lovin’ (smut)

One would think that after 10 years of being the new Soutaicho, Shunsui would be able to come home at a decent time. He does have two, not just one, fuktaichos after all. But that’s not the case most of the time. The Soutaicho’s work is never really over and definitely never on a time that was convenient for him or the people in his life.

With both him and his wife being in the Gotei 13, their busy schedules almost always ensures that they keep missing each other even if they do indeed live in the same house.

Sure they’d carve out time to be with each other, plan elaborate date nights overlooking sunsets with extravagant picnics...but still his job did take its toll. Some nights they’d both be home at a relatively decent time but they would be far too exhausted to do anything other than take a quick shower and go to sleep.

Lately, it’s been busier than most. The new Taicho of the 13th Division was being finally appointed. Kuchiki Rukia was an exemplary candidate, and Shunsui had every faith that she would do right by the division that was once held by his beloved best friend, but the paperwork for the new appointment and subsequent transition was, to put it mildly, a pain in the ass.

Today had been hectic. His last responsibility had been to visit the 13th Division’s barracks and make sure all the finer details were finalized with Rukia. Sure, someone else could have done it and he would have passed it on to the nearest unsuspecting subordinate had it been any other division. But it wasn’t. It was the 13th and the 13th was always Juu’s. Shunsui had to do it himself. It was the right thing to do.

However, that hadn’t really gone well at all. 

The official business was, of course, successfully concluded. Nanao-chan had taken care of everything, and Rukia was not only ready but eager to take on her responsibilities starting tomorrow, after the official announcement at the Taichos’ meeting. 

Except, walking past the Ugendo, and being reminded that Jushiro wasn’t there...it had put him in quite the dark mood. This announcement meant an ending he really was not yet ready to face. The 13th would no longer be Juu’s. Just another reminder that his best friend was gone and never coming back. It was...just painful in a purely illogical and gut wrenching way.

He’d wandered the seireitei streets, hoping to lose the cloud over his mind so he didn’t take it back home to his unsuspecting wife, but it hadn’t helped much.

When he finally got home, she was fast asleep. Maybe that was for the best. If she had been awake, she would have definitely wanted to talk it out with him. She could sense his mood in an uncanny way. But Shunsui wasn’t in a mind to talk. Not tonight.

They weren’t the kind of couple to wear fancy nightclothes to bed. In fact, they both chose not to wear anything at all. Shunsui’s body anyway ran quite warm and clothes would feel suffocating, so he slept fully nude. When he first met his wife, she loved her cute pyjamas and sexy négligée. Of course he couldn’t resist her in them. But after a while, he succeeded in convincing her the benefits of sleeping nude. Now, he knew, she wore nothing but panties under the covers.

He quickly took a shower to wash away the day’s grime and dried himself before dropping the towel on the floor. His wife would have his head for him leaving it there but...he had a lot on his mind tonight. 

He slowly walked up to the bed and stood there for a moment looking down at her. She looked so peaceful as she slept. No concerns furrowed her brows, and her lashes rested upon her smooth cheeks. She was sleeping on her side, facing the side on which Shunsui slept, her hand reaching out as if she meant to hold him. As if she yearned for him in his absence. 

The sheets were bunched up, barely covering her. One shapely calf teased him, inviting to be touched. He had no intentions of  resisting he temptation. He slowly ran his hand up her calf, feeling the smoothness and the firmness of her leg all the way up to her knee. He kept moving upward, lifting the sheet as he went, to rest his hand on her thigh.

She stirred a bit, and twisted away to lie flat upon her back. He quickly retracted his hand. He didn’t want to wake her. Not yet anyway.

When she moved, the sheet moved with her, unwrapping her like she was his favorite candy ready to be devoured. Her curves in all their glory were bared to his eye.

Her nipples were already pebbling, teased by the cold air in the room. He aided the task by moving his index finger up over her abdomen, his touch so slow and feather light. He flicked a nipple and watched it stand upright as if begging for his mouth.

His mind made up, he climbed up on the bed. He took his time, unrestrained by anything demanding upon him. Tonight, even his wife couldn’t distract him by trying to pleasure him. Instead, he got to explore her body as he wished to do so.

He moved over her delicate neck, the back of his hand caressing the soft skin there. Usually, whenever they made love, he worshipped her body as if it’s the only religion he’d ever known. But tonight, his mood was different. Tonight, he wanted to devour her, not delicately or lovingly, but with a passion that would consume them like an inferno. It was already burning him inside, this desperate need to take her, and take her hard. Tonight he wanted to sacrifice them both at the altar of his darkest desires.

Almost as if she could sense his thoughts, her eyes opened to look up at him, a bit confused and still half asleep. “Shunsui?”

“Shh...” he hushed her.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, her voice still husky with sleep. There it is again...that uncanny ability to read him like an open book.

He stared into her eyes, and she easily read his intentions. “I don’t want to talk about it, love,” he told her. “I just...want you.”

She didn’t say anything more. She simply held out her arms to pull him into her embrace. He fell into her, perhaps even crushing her, his body settling right between her spread thighs.

Their kiss was almost fervent with need. At least that’s what it felt like for him. No gentle romancing tonight. No soft seductive kisses or delicate nibbles. His mouth devoured hers, teeth biting into her full bottom lip. The wiry hair on his chest rubbed tantalizingly against her breasts. They both marveled at the contrast -soft curves against hard planes, smooth skin against the roughness. 

One hand wound up in her hair at the back of her head, holding her still as he took what he needed from her. The other hand moved between their bodies to reach down and find that his earlier ministrations as she slept had her wet and ready for him.

“I don’t think I can wait, petal,” he whispered, scraping his teeth across her jaw. His hardness pressed against her soft thigh told her as much anyway.

She reached up and sunk her hands into his hair, undoing the ties. The pull on his scalp was painful but strangely arousing. Her gaze bore into his, and it drove him insane to see the same intense desire reflected back at him. “I’m not asking you to wait, Shunsui. Fuck me. Now.”

With well practiced rhythm, he buried himself in one thrust. Face to face, pressed up close like this, he could see her eyes close shut, and her teeth bite that lip as he stretched her. A bit of pain mixed with pleasure. It amazed him how even after all this time, that first slide into her wet heat could still feel like the first time he was ever inside of her. It had him ready to burst in no time already, and he hadn’t even moved yet.

“Love, I don’t think I can go slow tonight,” he said, apologetic that he might not be able to make it good for her like he was wont to do.

She wrapped her legs around his hips, taking him even deeper if possible. “I didn’t ask you to, did I? Just fuck me already, Shun,” she said, biting his ear playfully. His wife was a sassy little thing that drove him crazy sometimes.

With one hand resting by the side of her head for leverage, he held on to her hip with the other as he began to move. Considering how much bigger he was compared to her, he had to hunch a bit, but this was his absolute favorite position. He felt close to her in every possible way and he got to see just how she looked when she came apart for him. 

As he moved over her, thrusting deep, her moans filled their room, like music to his ears. “Yes...god, yes. Just like that...” His wife loved to let him know just how well he was doing at pleasing her.

His thrusts became faster and harder. He was so close. So close that he was afraid he might cum before her, which he had never done in their entire marriage. But she was right there with him, taking his desires into her lithe little body as if she was made for him. The harder he went, the more she took it, finally until they both burst into pieces...his tension easing away as the intensity of the orgasm eased in.

They were both gasping by the end of it, trying to catch their breath. It has been a long time since they went at each other like this - intense and fast. A definite contrast to their slow, sensual lovemaking.

He realized his hand was still holding tight to her hip. He let go and reached up to cup her face. “Did I hurt you?”

“Mmmm...I don’t think so,” she moaned, stretching a bit, the movement hardening him all over again. Her eyes widened in surprise at his non-existent refraction period. “Again? Really?”

He grinned lecherously down at her. “I can’t help it when I have such a sexy little wife, now can I?” he asked teasingly. Playfulness was always a good distraction, and he wanted her distracted enough that she wouldn’t question him about the reason why he had woken her up in the first place.

By the time they were finally done with round two, the exhaustion of the day caught up with Shunsui, and he was out like a light, cradling his wife. The last thing he thought was how lucky he was that he had someone who truly understood him and what he needed.

She gazed down at his sleeping form with a sad smile. She knew her husband was troubled, and it was clearly evident that he was not willing to talk about it. After all, you weren’t with someone for years and years without learning to read everything they did and didn’t say. And with Shunsui, it was always the things he didn’t say or hid behind a playful seductive remark that revealed more.

She wouldn’t press him. Not until he was ready to tell her, which she knew with experience would happen sooner than later. So she pressed a soft kiss to his stubbly cheek, and settled down next to him. His arms unconsciously wrapped around her, cradling her in his body heat. It was always easier to fall asleep when he was next to her, so that’s just what she did.

__

Written for the

✨ 1500 Followers Celebration ✨

…and requests for this are officially now closed.

__

Thank you to everyone who sent in their requests! I had a blast writing them ALL. This blog is officially at 1600!! 

We shall have another celebration at the 2000 milestone :)

—

Normal Ask Box is open for requests so send in your Bleach fantasies today!

Or check out more of my work through the Masterlist here!

[skywardscroll]

divine intervention | venti

✧ word count: 2.5k

✧ summary: baring witness to world can become wearisome. venti, though you don’t really know him, wants to help.

✧ warnings: really angsty with some fluff thrown in! the reader has depression / there is self-deprecation. reader is also afab!

✧ a/n: this is so sweet >-< . i’m really proud of this one! also, writing klee is literally the funnest thing ever lol. <3 hope you guys enjoy!!

Teyvat, as you’d come to learn through your years, was a dangerous, merciless world. Every day, people lost their fathers, sisters, friends, and lovers. The world was full of greedy bandits and vicious monsters, and it only seemed to be getting worse as the days went by.

This last adventure out to Liyue had really taken the optimism out of you; Growing weary from traveling, you returned to your home in Mondstadt quite exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally. Was there any other facet of you that could be exhausted? Because you were sure that it would also be stricken with strife.

You told the Adventurer’s Guild that you were temporarily retiring from your work to take a well-overdue vacation from fighting and the ever-arising political strain you witnessed every time you left the City of Freedom. You just wanted to enjoy your safe corner of the world, at least for the summer.

The (admittedly strange) way you decided to do this was by staying indoors with your books, sometimes going entire days without once stepping into the sunlight. It was a pleasant way to spend the time, but you knew it was unhealthy.

Your books, when the main characters shared similar habits to you, called this behavior ‘depression.’ Though, you willfully ignored this, pretending that this was normal of someone with a heavy heart (just a heavy heart. Not all the other symptoms that you were falsely denying you had, like an aversion to engagements with friends, or a neglect of hydration.)

It was one of the hottest days in July, you remembered, when you heard a knock on your door. You contemplated answering it, thinking that maybe the Adventurer’s Guild would want you back to work prematurely. This was quickly disproven, though, when a small voice called from outside the door:

“Miss Y/N? Oh, Miss Y/N~! Please come out!”

Klee’s sweet voice seemed to somehow wrap itself around your heart and pull you towards the door.

“Miss Y/N?”

You hesitated, knowing that once you saw that endearing child’s round eyes, you would be forced to play outside with her for as long as she wanted you to. You loved Klee dearly, and would do anything for her, even if you didn’t necessarily wish to go along with it. But you really didn’t feel like leaving your house, knowing that the Freedom Festival was currently in full swing.

“Y/N? Are you in there?” You recognize a second voice to belong to Grandmaster Jean.

Inhaling deeply, you opened the door to see Klee’s face light up as she excitedly pulled on Jean’s hand.

“She opened the door! She did! I told you Y/N would open the door!”

“Y/N!” Jean said, obviously surprised by your appearance. “It’s so good to see you’re well.”

“It’s good to see you two, as well.” You said with full honesty. You hadn’t realized it until you saw them before you, but you had certainly missed seeing your friends.

“Y/N! I wanted to ask if you wanted to go to the Freedom festival with us! There’ll be food, and music, and I overheard Rosaria saying something to Kaeya about special drinks!”

“Oh… I don’t know…”

“Come on! It’ll be fun! They have this game, and it has a prize that looks like a biiiig dodoco! I want it but if you come you can have it!” Klee’s excitement makes a smile appear on your face.

“You should come, Y/N. It would be good for you, I think.”

You sighed a little, looking back at your book which sat with the pages down against the cushion of your reading chair, waiting to be returned to. But as if by design, the wind carried the smell of food into your door and your stomach rumbled. Besides, Klee’s eyes were bearing into your heart just as you predicted, and you could see Jean’s hand clasp onto Klee’s a little tighter in hopes that she wouldn’t be disappointed.

“Alright, I’ll come.”

If you were to be frank, you had no idea what the difference between the Windblume Festival and the Freedom Festival was. To you, it just seemed like another concocted excuse to party. Which, in your youth, you never complained about, and you weren’t inclined to complain now, either, as Sara handed you a particularly delicious-looking chicken and mushroom skewer. You hadn’t eaten something like this in a month, and it was very welcome in your stomach.

“Over there! It’s Venti! Venti!” Klee went running ahead of you and Jean, who were idly speaking to one another as you finished off your food and threw the stick away.

“Klee! Don’t run off!” Jean called out, running after the young girl while you walked a bit behind, enjoying the scenery of Mondstadt decorated in flowers and it’s streets lined with vendors.

“Hi Klee!” You looked up and saw a man hug Klee tightly (a boy? He was quite short, but you were pretty sure he was an adult.) It was hard not to notice the golden lyre in his hand and how the strings seemed to be luminescent. You’d never seen anything like it before, and accidentally stared at it in clear awe.

“Do you play?” He asked, a smile that seemed to lift your heart was directed to you after the question left his lips.

“No… Not anymore. I tried to learn when I was a child but…”

“That’s alright. It takes a lot of practice, yeah?”

You let out a breathy laugh and nod, “Yeah, I guess so.”

Jean scooped up Klee into her arms before she could run off again. “You two haven’t met before?”

“Sadly no.” Venti said, placing his hand over his heart. “I would’ve remembered such a beautiful face, surely.”

Bard’s and their sweet words. You thought to yourself. Out of kindness, you only laughed in response to his compliment.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Ahh! I’ve heard of you! The exceptional adventurer!”

Why does this guy say everything so enthusiastically? Is this what you used to sound like? His way of speaking, though you felt guilty for it because you knew he couldn’t help it, grated against your nerves. You weren’t in the right mindset for his optimism. Or, perhaps, it was that you were jealous that he still had a hold on his, and so easily too, while it had been so long since you were excited about anything.

When you didn’t say anything, there was a small look in Venti’s eyes that told you he could see right through you, or that he was at least aware that something was wrong with you.

“Well, I ought to be on my way back home.” You said, causing Klee to whine out.

“Y/N~! You can’t go yet! What about the giant dodoco?”

You frowned, feeling guilty for letting Klee down, but feeling too exhausted for any more socialization.

“At least stay for a song, Y/N?” Venti offered with a quieter tone of voice, pointing to a chair that was left unoccupied by the gathering crowd around him.

“Yeah! Just one song~?” Klee pleaded.

You bit the inside of your cheek before eventually nodding and sitting in the chair. Klee let out a cheer of celebration as Jean sat down beside you, letting Klee sit in her lap. You noticed how Jean had been particularly silent throughout this. Did she feel bad for you? Or did she, too, want you to stay for some reason?

“I’ll sing a very special song for a new friend!” Venti announced to the audience, to which you blushed a little at the attention and rolled your eyes. Though, once Venti’s fingers started gracing the strings of his harp, all feelings of discomfort and irritation floated away.

“Sit here closely, let me tell,

of the young maiden’s heart who one day swelled.

The once frozen walls, the once salty tears,

Now gone with a kiss that she wished had lasted years.

In the times of old, long before the gods were bold,

there was no remedy for a heart gone cold.

The young maiden wandered, hoping for peace

from the heartache and unrest the world did unleash.

Did she find it, you ask? Did she find it? I’ll tell.

She found it in freedom, from freedom it fell.

For Barbatos did bless her, from under the Windrise tree,

She only had to meet him in the morning at three.

The warmth she had searched for, that unlike she had ever known

was hers, finally, to own.”

The crowd clapped for Venti as he finished his short song, one that was unfamiliar to you and unsettled you to no end.

What was his motive?

You weren’t stupid. You’d read enough of your books in the last month and been on enough adventures with a multitude of twists and turns to know that he had just come up with that song for you. As beautiful as it was, you felt uncomfortable with the stranger being able to see through you so well.

Yet, when he flashed you a cheeky smile while he reveled in the applause, you felt that he had good intentions. In fact, you wondered if he could do any wrong. He just didn’t seem like the type to do anything evil… Ever.

“Did you like it, Klee?” Venti asked, bending down to talk to the girl who wriggled excitedly in Jean’s lap.

“Yes! It was sooooo pretty! I’ve never heard it before!” She gushed.

“A very lovely song, indeed, Venti.”

“Thanks Jean!” Venti flashed her a confident grin.

“Well, Y/N! Thanks for staying for the show!” He said, standing back up and turning to you. “I hope I can see you again soon!”

“Yeah. See you soon.” You replied with a half-hearted tone.

You were entirely conflicted. Your mind was telling you no; You shouldn’t go out there tonight. It was dangerous and you were significantly out of shape to be dealing with slimes and hilichurls. Besides, it was just a song… What if you were reading too much into it? And what if… You just wanted him to be singing about you and him?

Your heart wanted that to be true. It’d be like the books you’ve been reading, where the prince comes up with some elaborate way of asking the maiden to meet him in secret. You were, no matter how hardened you became, a hopeless romantic at heart. Something about Venti made your heart soar from the pits of depression you had fallen into. You… Trusted him.

You could do with a late-night walk, you supposed.

It took longer than usual because of the festivities, but the city eventually fell silent as everyone either rested in their beds or in a tavern. You found walking in the empty city strangely comforting. Rather than being shut away from the world out of fear of pestering others, you could now walk freely without a single care, if you so pleased.

You took your time walking out of the city, smiling at every stray cat and even stopping for a moment at the bridge to admire the water. You missed how, when you were a young girl, you used to look at the lake and dream about visiting all the other lakes in the world. You’d seen a lot of them, now, but this one still held a special place in your heart.

Windrise, though it had been years since you visited the Archon Statue, was as beautiful as ever. The tree looked even more alive in the moonlight, if it were possible.

You were raised to believe that you were under the protection of Barbatos, though you never would call yourself devout. That title belonged to the sisters of the church, who were truly faithful to Barbatos. But you would feel comfortable saying you were a believer. You liked that Barbatos was so just, and his famous story of his liberation of old Mondstadt was a tale you frankly would never tire of.

Regardless, as you sat in front of the statue, you saw no signs of the charming bard from before. You wondered if he memorized that tale of Barbatos; A part of you wanted to hear him tell it.

“I’m a fool, aren’t I?” You said, talking to the statue (not talking to yourself.) “A silly, odd, hermit of a fool. One who shuts themselves away and avoids all their problems. How cowardly can I be?”

A peculiar phenomenon began: The words started pouring out like an uncontrollable waterfall. Once the self-deprecation started, it didn’t seem to want to end.

“My family was so proud to hear I was a part of the guild. They said that you – that Barbatos – had blessed me with the life of an adventurer – a life of freedom. Am I selfish to despise it? I don’t feel free. I feel heavy with all the troubles of the world. Outside Mondstadt it’s… Well, you’re a god, you know how it is.”

You hadn’t spoken much to anyone in over a month. You didn’t even know if anyone was listening. Was he listening? Did he see the tears starting to run down your face and did he hear the cracking in your voice?

“I feel like a joke. A witness to trouble without the power to make things right. It’s so… Frustrating. I hate myself because I hate the world. I’m so useless… So useless.”

And you cried, your head leant against the statue of Barbatos. The months of pain finally bubbled over and bared itself for the world and the gods to see. You were ashamed, and angry at yourself, but you let yourself cry. You cried up to the heavens, to Celestia. Was he watching? Listening?

“Y/N?” A voice softly spoke your name, but your sobs turned into wails immediately following and you couldn’t make yourself stop even if you wanted to.  You felt a pair of arms wrap around you and you hugged Venti back, breathing in his scent of Cecilia. He was so warm compared to the cool summer breeze that blew through the leaves above.

“I’m sorry.” You cried against his shirt; the words muffled but still understandable. There were so many apologies you were making with the single phrase: Sorry for crying, sorry for being rude. Sorry for shutting everyone who cares about me out. I’m sorry for being ungrateful. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

“You don’t have to hide your tears from me, okay?” His voice was so soft and gentle as he pulled your head away from his chest and wiped away your ever-flowing tears from your cheeks.

This went on for a while, him running his thumbs over your cheeks every few minutes and catching the tears. You felt so awful that he was witnessing you like this, he barely knew you. But something in you was saying that this was right. Trust him, this is where you’re meant to be.

You calmed down enough about an hour later that he felt he could speak.

“Everything will be alright, Y/N.”

You let out a jagged exhale. At this point, your jaw was numb, and you were developing a headache. Still, being in Venti’s arms brought you comfort unlike anything you’d ever experienced. It was… Divine.

“Do you think he heard me? That he’s watching over me?”

Venti gave you the most assured, comforting smile you think is humanly possible. Brushing your hair from your face, he replied.

“I’ve never been so certain of anything.”

[cheri-translates]

Hello cheri! How is your day? Im a fellow gavin stan but recently there is a guy stealing my attention and its shaw hahaha bt i still love gavin my 1st love on game. anyway on your opinion how did mc fell for shaw? And when shaw finds out he likes mc? Thank you ❤

(´･ᴗ･ ` ) Hello Anon! My day is great after receiving this interesting yet challenging question~ The development of a relationship requires the involvement of both parties, so I ended up discussing both questions simultaneously!

Here are the short answers to your questions, but do note that these are just my personal opinions:

1. She uncovered and accepted his complexities

2. Exciting Moment Date

A summary of the Shaw x MC dynamics can be found in these lines from Exciting Moment Date: 

Let’s dive deeper into each line.

-

1. “Emboldened by the straightforward response, I couldn’t help but move closer to him.”

For this, we have to chart the development of MC’s impression of Shaw across the dates.

Shaw’s first event (i.e. Night Fire) took place one week after MC entered the Winter World. In a world where nobody else recognised her, it was perfectly natural for MC to gravitate towards Shaw despite not knowing him well:

At the same time, her instincts cautioned her to stay away from him. After all, how good could a person be if he seemed to dye his hair in a flamboyant colour, wore a riveted jacket, and handed out fake identities like it’s nothing?

Her instincts also warned her that he was the one who attempted to strike Victor in Ch 10 of the main storyline:

At this point, she was likely experiencing two conflicting emotions. On one hand, she was very dependent on him and filled with gratitude for the emotional and practical help he gave her. 

In a world where she had no idea how to proceed, Shaw’s straightforwardness and self-assured nature likely provided her a huge sense of comfort.

At the same time, her instincts sounded the alarm bells in her head.

But being the kind and good-natured MC she is, she continued sticking around with Shaw and was even concerned for his well-being. 

Within the span of one day in One-Day Date, she didn’t just move closer to him physically, but also learnt that he’s actually a graduate student in Loveland University who takes his exams seriously. She also learnt that he’s a talented bass player, and also talented in graffiti. 

She learnt that perhaps there’s greater substance to this young man than she originally thought. And this led to her curiosity being aroused - what more could she uncover about this mysterious man?

One glaring commonality in Shaw’s early dates is that MC asks A LOT of questions. Just as Shaw was intrigued by MC, MC was equally intrigued by him, and actually expressed it even more clearly.

There are too many questions to list down, so here are Shaw’s reactions to them instead:

In the Rosa Rubus event:

In the Genuine or Fake Call from Seeking Date:

In Exciting Moment Date:

MC can’t help but draw nearer to him.

-

2. “The music was being played at a low volume. But because Shaw was wearing only one earphone and the room was quiet, I could still hear the sound of music coming from the other earphone.”

As mentioned at the start, both parties needed to take a step for the relationship to develop successfully. Hence, it didn’t matter if MC barraged Shaw with questions if he wasn’t receptive to them. 

He needed to take the initiative to “wear only one earphone” so that MC was able to understand him through the other. At the same time, MC needed to listen carefully to the “low volume” of Shaw’s genuine feelings.

To elaborate on the above paragraph, we have to understand the way Shaw operates.

In a recent Ask where someone asked about his personality, I mentioned that he’s straightforward like Gavin yet mysterious like Lucien. This might come across strange because how could such a contradiction exist?

But that’s exactly how Shaw is. The reason why Shaw behaves like this is due to a mix of nature and nurture. 

He’s naturally impetuous (e.g. drawn to adrenaline-stirring activities such as skateboarding, performing rock, sneaking into places he shouldn’t be sneaking into). But he was taught by experience and in the study of archaeology to be patient.

Basically, this mixture of nature and nurture results in push-pull dynamics when it comes to Shaw, and a beautifully crafted slow burn where Shaw has to grapple with his feelings for MC. I’ve done a post on his early feelings for MC which you can check out here!

[PUSH] In One-Day Date, he asked her out yet left her to dry:

[PULL] Afterwards, he invited her to indulge in his hobby, and even asked her keep her art on the wall even though he insulted it 5 seconds ago:

[PULL] In Exciting Moment Date, he wanted to spend time alone with MC:

[PUSH] But he didn’t have a concrete plan on what they’d do:

[PUSH] He made it seem like holding hands wasn’t a big deal:

[PULL] But he vehemently refused to let go:

[PUSH] In Exciting Date, he closed himself off:

[PULL] But relented soon afterwards:

Remember how I mentioned before that MC tended to barrage Shaw with a ton of questions in his earlier dates? Interestingly, Shaw didn’t actually mind them.

We see this in his Genuine or Fake Call from Seeking Date:

And also in his Future Bass Call from Exciting Date:

Deep down, Shaw wants to be understood. He wants to be heard. But he needs someone who’s thick-skinned enough to handle his sharp tongue, and to care enough to understand the hidden meaning behind his words, whether said or unsaid. I’ll return to this point at the end.

And at the same time, MC listens. Aside from asking questions about his present motivations, she also wanted to know about his past, and about him as a person:

Anger reveals a lot about a person’s true concerns, so let’s break down this particular line when MC went off on a little rant about Shaw:

In other words, “You’re a contradiction and I can’t comprehend how your mind works. I’m feeling frustrated because I can’t seem to understand your thought process. I wish you would stop disagreeing with me because I want to be on the same wavelength as you are. I really want to understand you."

-

3. “To my surprise, it was an instrumental - slow, deep, soft, mixed with the sound of rain.”

While Shaw engages in this this pull-push tango with MC while she tries to understand him, she is surprised when she sees that there’s more to Shaw than his bravado.

In One-Day Date, she notices his vulnerability:

In Seeking Date, she gets a glimpse of -

His seriousness:

His quietness:

His kindness in the way he kicked the stone away to prevent others from tripping over it:

His meticulousness, albeit slightly delayed:

In Exciting Date (including the prologue), she guesses that there’s more depth to Shaw that she realised:

She is also a recipient of his kindness:

Again and again:

-

4. “Gingerly, I moved another step toward him for a clearer listen.”

These traits drew her closer to him. She started trusting him without even realising it.

In Seeking Date:

In the prologue of Exciting Date:

She also picked up the way he speaks in the Rosa Rubus event and Exciting Date (and even more so in future CN content):

How did Shaw respond to MC’s incessant drive to know him more? He imbibed the words of his mentor:

He was very patient.

He tested her tenacity in running errands as his informant. He tested how well she kept to her promises. He tested how much she cared about the Dragonfly Eye bead he gave her. He tested how much she cared about not making a fool of Isolated on stage.

He also took his sweet time grappling with why he was inexplicably drawn to her, which manifested in the form of the push-pull dynamics mentioned earlier in Point 2. 

Was he simply an observer toying with MC? Was he simply deriving amusement from MC’s reactions?

And after all that testing and waiting, he finally knew for sure:

Shaw not only offered to let MC into his world. 

He also carved out a space in his world for her.

And that’s when the Shaw x MC ship sailed.

[themaribatpit]

Saturday Challenge: Double Crossover

Written by: The Maribat Pit   Prompt: Double Crossover Rated: M rating just to be safe (sexual references, mostly because of some very unsavory things Lila thinks and implies about Marinette.) Marinette x Jason Phantom of the Opera (specifically Hush Jason, from 2020′s Death in the Family).

A/N (Maribat fangirl): There is going to be a lot of class salt, Lila salt and some heavy duty character bashing.  I’m going to be upfront, there’s characters being called harlots. A/N (DC fanboy): My S.O. and I pretty much did karaoke while writing this.

Paris, 1875. Marinette worked in her parents bakery, while she loved her family dearly, she was dissatisfied with her current lot in life. She wished to become a singer, and everyday as she walked in the streets of Paris to bring flour to the bakery, she would stop and stare at the Conservatoire de Paris. The enchanting music and singing could be heard even in the streets.

Listening to music always reminded her of her favourite fairy tale told by her father, the one about  ‘Angel of Music’. She would sit on the street across the Conservatoire, close her eyes and listen to the beautiful music emanating from it. Once she tried to sing along, but passersby would be swift to yell at her to stop. They described her voice sounding like a rusty hinge.

Upon her 15th birthday, her parents presented to her a once in a lifetime opportunity. They had presented her with an approved application to the Conservatoire, they had saved enough money for tuition and would be sending her there to chase her dreams as an opera singer. Marinette held her parents tightly, thanking them constantly for the amazing opportunity.

That night, Marinette was unable to sleep, she was beaming with energy and excitement. She could not believe how her luck was changing, how she would be going to the musical academy of her dreams.

The next morning however she would be in a nervous panic for her first day of lessons. Running about the home, getting prepared, packing her bags. She even forgot to eat breakfast, she ran out the door with a croissant in her mouth, much to the chagrin of her parents.

However, her dream academy soon became a waking nightmare to her. She would be tormented daily by all her peers, especially one Lila Rossi, the prima donna of the academy. Every professor would sneer at her low birth, and did nothing when the others tried to sabotage her standing at the Academy.  She tried to keep her head held high, even as everyone else looked down on her for being a baker’s daughter. Marinette ignored the comments and rumours about how she was able to attend the prestigious academy.  Rumours that she dared not repeat, about how she and her parents must be criminals if they were able to afford to send her to the academy.  

It wasn’t enough for her to be stuck in the chorus, Lila Rossi wanted to make sure her place as prima donna of the academy was ironclad. A couple of the teachers felt that she was growing more temperamental, more complacent, and their eyes began to wander for a dancer to take her place.  The other dancers were unwilling to take her place, all except for Marinette, who saw it as a shining opportunity.  For Lila, this simply would not stand.  

The one time Marinette found a pair of scissors that had been used to cut the laces on her pointe shoes.  The same scissors that were missing from her sewing box days earlier. She decided that the time had come to confront Lila once and for all.

Marinette confronted her just before rehearsals began, scissors in hand, in front of everyone.  “Is it true?” she called, everyone turned to look at them.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Lila gasped.  She looked down to see her wearing her worn out slippers, before looking back up at her face.  “You do know you’re meant to be wearing your toe shoes now, right? The show is in a few days.” she reminded her.

“I do,” she breathed, “I also know it was you, you’re the one who cut the laces on my pointe shoes.”

Lila gasped and stepped back, everyone else was shocked by the accusation. She looked away for a moment, and squeezed her eyes shut.  Marinette knew the trick well from their acting classes at the academy, she was getting ready to make it look like she was crying.  “Why? Why would you accuse me of something like this?” she made sure her voice wavered as she spoke, “what reason do I have to sabotage a background dancer’s shoes?”

Marinette knew she had lost the battle before it had even begun, every dancer would move to protect Lila and her crocodile tears.  Lila was the prima donna, the daughter of a diplomat, and she had the entire academy in the palm of her hand.  “Perhaps there was some mistake,” she muttered, walking away from her classmates rushing to defend Lila’s fake tears.  It was useless trying to explain that the scissors were stolen from her, and that this was an elaborate setup.  It was her word against Lila’s, as the directors tried to command the dancer’s attention, Marinette ran.  

Once again, she tried to keep her head held high, it wasn’t as if anyone would believe her when she told them about Lila’s machinations.   She made a habit of keeping her costumes and pointe shoes hidden.  On occasion bringing them home whenever she visited her parent’s bakery, somewhere that little saboteur would not even think to look for them.

Months later, tragedy struck again when she received a letter informing her that her parent’s bakery had been burned.  Her parents, her hopes, her dreams all burned to ash in one night.  It was made worse by the fact that one rehearsal, Lila snatched the letter out of her hands and read it aloud for the entire company of dancers and singers to hear.   She assumed that it would be some kind of love note, probably preparing to spread rumours about Marinette sneaking off into the night with a mystery lover.  Instead, Lila simply made a show of pitying Marinette, “poor thing, it’s worse than I thought.  Unless you can find a patron to support you, your days at the academy are going to be numbered.”

Just as the theatre managers had arrived, Marinette fled, keeping her head down as tears were welling up in her eyes and blurring her vision.  Since the day she arrived she had been mocked, humiliated, tormented simply so that one girl could have the adoration and sympathy of her fellow performers.  Through all the salacious rumours and lies, she tried her best to ignore them and carry herself through it all.  The loss of her parents, their bakery, and now Marinette’s hopes and dreams, it was all too much to bear.  

Marinette ran to an empty music room to cry her heart out, she sat right against the wall, knees curled up to her chest and sobbed into her legs. In this state of absolute despair, she began to sing a song of her favourite fairy tale that her father would sing to her whenever she had a nightmare.  She sang a soft, painful prayer for the Angel of Music and a farewell to her lost parents. “Think of me, think of me fondly, when we say goodbye…”, her singing was hoarse, off key, full of sorrow.

The more she sang, the harder she cried. Soon to the point that she could not complete the song. However, a disembodied voice sang the remaining verse for her. Marinette paused from her crying to look for the voice, it felt as if it came from everywhere and nowhere. It was hypnotising, elegant, enchanting. She walked out of the music room to try to find the source of the singing.

“Come to me, Angel of Music.” The voice sang, in a smooth tenor voice, luring Marinette as if she was a moth attracted to a flame. The voice led her to a musical hall, reserved only for the academy’s annual showcase. She turned the door knob, to her surprise, the door was unlocked. She peeked her head through the door to see a cloaked figure playing the organ, the source of the enchanting voice. “Insolent girl, this slave of fashion. Basking in your glory.” The figure angrily sang “Ignorant fool, this prima donna.”

“Angel of Music, is that you?” Marinette tentatively asked the figure. The figure stopped playing, and turned around to face her. Marinette was taken aback by the figure, he was a tall man, wearing a red mask on the left side of his face. Another distinctive feature other than his magnificent voice was the white streak of hair and piercing green eyes.

“You are unlike any of the fools in this academy. You did not join this academy for fame or fortune. No, you came here because of your love of music.” The figure told her. He took a deep breath and composed himself, straightening his jacket. Then he raised an arm, reaching out to Marinette. “I am your Angel of Music, come to me Angel of Music.”  Marinette walks forward and accepts the Angel’s hand, thus beginning their first musical lesson together.

Marinette’s talent and ability in music skyrocketed with her extra-curricular lessons.   Her mysterious patron was also the one continuing to fund her education at the academy.  Meanwhile, no one else had the time to spread rumours about Marinette, not when there were rumours of a ghost haunting the Conservatoire.  

Unbeknownst to Marinette, she was the key to establishing control over a very profitable endeavour for her mysterious patron. The managers were being extorted to the tune of 20,000 francs and requested that box five remain open.  This money was nothing to them, especially when the sons and daughters of the wealthy and powerful were attending.  Very few had seen Jason’s face, and if they did, they would draw back in fear.   It was the result of a boyhood accident that left him changed and altered in more ways than one.  Taking control of the Conservatoire was merely the first step in taking control of an entire city.  This girl, Marinette, was the key to captivating their attention.  She would hold their attention and adoration as the rising star of the academy, drawing their eyes away from his growing influence and power.  Using talents and potential that they had cast aside, twisting their own hubris against them.  

Months later, everyone in the academy worked towards its annual showcase for its patrons, the nobility and all family members of its students. Lila had grown bored of tormenting Marinette, and had moved on to other victims.  She had her other dancers and singers wrapped around her little finger, and all eyes would be on her at the annual showcase.  

At last the day of the annual showcase had arrived, Lila sat at her personal preparation room, after all she would be the star of the show. She walked over to her wardrobe and opened it, she then screamed in horror to see her dress tattered and in pieces.

In the days leading to the showcase the Director of Conservatoire de Paris had received threatening letters demanding 20,000 Francs, box 5 to remain vacant and worse of all to replace Lila Rossi with some baker’s daughter. Director Bourgeois scoffed at the threats, tossing the letter away.

The next day during the rehearsal for one of the ballet numbers, students and teachers paid no mind to the threats that were outlined in the letter. Until one of the dancers looked up and gasped in horror. The other dancers looked up to find the stagehand hanging from the rafters. The theatre soon bursts into screams of fear as they all see the dead body of the stagehand.   Director Bourgeois ordered all faculty members and students present to remain silent of the murder. This prestigious institution could not afford such a scandal this close to such an important showcase. As the Director inspected the body, he found a letter titled to him attached to the corpse of a stagehand.

Director Bourgeois read the second letter with shaky hands, it read “Monsieur Bourgeois, good day to you. It seems you did not take my threat seriously. I present to you this corpse to show my sincerity. I see you have a young daughter, pray that no harm would befall her. I shall reiterate my demands, 20,000 francs, box five remain vacant and Mademoiselle Marinette shall replace the harlot Lila Rossi.”

Director Bourgeois collapsed into his chair, wiping his sweat. Until he heard a scream from outside his office. He ran out as fast as he could to see Lila Rossi confronting Marinette. Crocodile tears flowed from Lila’s eyes as she accused Marinette of sabotage, purposefully doing so in front of the Director's office.  

“How could you Marinette?” Lila wailed, “Whatever your reasons, how could you do this to me? To the Conservatoire?”

Marinette merely said “Lila, don’t you stay in a private room with guards patrolling the hallway outside?” She shrugs, “I was in my dormitory last night. Besides, how could anyone sneak into your room at night, unless they were a phantom?”

Director Bourgeois goes pale at Marinette’s implication, he had to intervene quickly, before the situation got worse. He attempted to placate Lila, “Now now mademoiselles, I can’t punish anybody unless we have solid evidence. As the saying goes ‘the show must go on.’ Signora Rossi, as you are currently unable to perform, I’m afraid Mademoiselle Marinette will have to take your place.”

Marinette’s eyes widened at the offer given to her, she could not believe it. Director Bourgeois himself offered her the star role for this year’s showcase. It is all as her Angel of Music said would happen. She accepted the role wholeheartedly and thanked the director profusely, she skipped back to the musical hall to begin rehearsals, now as the main lead.

Lila’s jaw dropped to see the director siding against her, how he gave away her role to that peasant without any hesitation. She clenched her fists and gritted her teeth, she stomped her way back to her bedroom to begin scheming the ultimate humiliation for Marinette. She was so distracted with her rage, she had not noticed a shadowy figure following her.

Lila planned to show the entire Opera house just who Marinette was, little more than a filthy peasant who got lucky.  She was supposed to have packed her bags and left months ago, after her parents and their pathetic little bakery burned down.  “This Opera Phantom had a lot of nerve calling me a harlot, when Marinette is probably his little harlot.” she muttered harshly in the darkness.  She searched the costume room for the lead actress’ dress, a long flowing gown that brushed against the floor.  It was made with the finest fabrics that money could buy, it almost broke Lila’s heart to sabotage it.  She would rather die than see it worn by some peasant girl, a pretender, a talentless sham of a performer.  Before she can lay hand on the dress to destroy it, a gloved hand reaches out and grabs her by the wrist.  A voice interrupts her, “What do you think you are doing with that?”

Lila slowly turns around to see a grotesque figure staring at her.  In the candlelight, she was horrified by the person she saw. The left half of his face was severely burned, almost completely disfigured. His bright green eyes flared with a fury that genuinely terrified Lila as the figure glared at her. She immediately drops everything and screams, as she runs out the door as fast as her legs would carry her, wailing and screaming how the ghost is trying to kill her. “He’s there, the Phantom of the Opera!” she wails as he chases her down. The Phantom pursues his prey. Just as Lila runs around a corner, the ghost is there waiting for her. She gives another horrified scream, falling to the floor and trying to crawl in the opposite direction. “No no no, please don't kill me!” She begged as tears blurred her vision.

Her howls and pleas of mercy attract nearby students, teachers and guards. They all arrive to see Lila screaming like a maniac on the floor, alone and raving about some ghost hunting her down. “The ghost is real! He is real I tell you! He’s going to kill me!” she sobbed. As Lila was being escorted out of the academy, gossip spread like wildfire. Within hours everyone would be talking about how Lila had lost all of her sanity because of the ghost.

They had no other choice at that moment, the show had to go on.  If they wanted the night to go smoothly, with no one noticing anything strange or peculiar, they had to meet the Phantom’s demands.  Marinette stood there, centre stage, with all of Paris’ most influential in the audience. She began to sing her show stopping aria.  

As she glided across the stage and looked out into the audience, her eyes searched for the man in the red mask.  She liked to imagine her Angel of Music beaming at her with pride, without him, she would still be that sad little girl crying in the music room.  She sang as loudly and as clearly as she could, hoping that her voice would pierce the heavens clearly enough for her mother and father to hear.  

As she reached her crescendo, she peaked with an E6. Her voice echoed across the entire hall with the sharpness and perfection of a veteran soprano singer. The audience collective dropped their jaws at the spectacle. Marinette ended her aria with a bow, and the theatre erupted with a thunderous round of applause.  

Jason watched from his seat in box five, with a self satisfied smile on his face. ��From that day forth, he would see to it that all eyes were on her.  

[buckysgoldenheart]

The B****, The Favorite, His Sister & Her Lover

Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary: Henry is in love with you, but you have been avoiding him for a month and you are forced to face the repercussions of your actions when your brother brings him to family dinner. (Fluffy, sorta smutty)

Words: 4979 (Sorry ☹, but I hope you like it if you decide it’s not too long).

All you wanted, well, not wanted, but all you planned for was a simple, hopefully non-stressful dinner where your mother made her lasagna and your brother eased her not-so-innocent attacks on you with his charming personality. It was a Friday. Friday’s were supposed to be relaxing, and if you could ignore the ‘subtle’ digs at your lack of relationship you might even consider it a win.

You sat at the counter, sipping at wine as your small mother slid her lasagna into the oven with two large, rose-printed oven mitts. What should have been a simple task ended up as your mother spending an entire minute adjusting and readjusting the pan until it was dead center on the rack.

“You’re letting all the heat out, mom.”

Her nearly entirely gray-haired head was practically in the oven when she said, “It has to be perfect or it won’t bake evenly, Y/N. If you ever cooked, you would know that. Men like when a woman can cook, you know.”

You rolled your eyes and took another sip of the dark reddish-purple liquid when the doorbell rang. Fucking finally, you thought, Brother dearest to the rescue. You actually loved Johnny almost more than anyone. He was your best friend, and without a doubt, you could show up at his apartment asking for help hiding a body and he would drop everything to google the best place to do it.

Probably a little too eagerly, you set your glass down, jogged to the small foyer, and whipped open the door. “Damn it, Johnny, you’re late. Mom is—”

Your body froze. Johnny was smiling wide, holding up a bottle of gin in his hand and waving it at you like a prize, standing next to the one man you had been trying to avoid for the better half of a month. You closed your parted lips and slid your tongue over them to wet the sudden dryness.

“Where’s mom?” Johnny asked.

You nodded your head in the direction of the kitchen. “Where else?”

You brother slipped by you, disappearing around the corner as he called for your mother. A sharp squeal echoed through the halls a moment later, your mother’s high-pitched tone crying ‘my baby boy,’ over and over.

Looking at the man before you: the blue eyes, the dark brown hair, the plump lips with an uneasy smile, you tried to look welcoming. You were sure you failed miserably, but who could blame you. Avoiding him had been going so well.

“Hi, Y/N.”

You swallowed. “Hi…Henry.” Awkwardly, you opened the door a little wider and stepped to the side. He cleared his throat and brushed passed you, the toned chest you had tried to forget rubbing up against your breasts. “Just, um…” You pointed in the direction of the kitchen before you realized it would just be better for him to follow you. “Follow me.”

When you saw Johnny playfully twirling your mother around to music he had turned on at some point, you internally groaned. He really was the perfect son. Perfect enough to make up for your lack of achievements. Johnny paused, large grin still in place when he saw you and Henry.

“Mom,” He said, gesturing a hand your way, “This is Henry, a good friend. We work together.”

Her eyes brightened even more at the sight of him. Tall, broad, sexy; the perfect potential suitor for her pathetic daughter. You just prayed she could keep her mouth shut for a single night.

“Henry,” She said, taking his hand in hers. “So lovely to meet you. Please, take a seat. What would you like to drink? I can get you anything.”

Henry looked anxious at the sudden onslaught of attention. You knew the feeling, though it was often directed your way in a more negative manner. Before Henry could respond, your brother set a glass of bourbon in front of him to which he responded with a nod, a smile, and a ‘thank you.’

The scene in front of you was more and more beginning to feel like an episode of The Twilight Zone. Henry was sitting at the kitchen counter of your childhood home with a drink in his hand, chatting with your mother and brother like it wasn’t weird. He looked misplaced. He was too big for the room. His shoulders were massive, and he was so, so tall, and there was something about it that had you panicking.

“Johnny!” Your brother looked your way. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and walked to your old bedroom. You shut the door with an annoyed huff once your bother’s body was barely on your side of it. He observed the room as if he hadn’t seen it a thousand times before then winced when he met your eyes, having run out of places to look. “Oh, don’t give me that.”

You crossed your arms. “What the fuck is he doing here!”

“He said he was going to be alone for the weekend and when I told him I was going home for the night, I offered for him to come.”

Raising an eyebrow, you scoffed. “And why would he accept that thrilling proposal?”

Johnny chucked and rubbed the back of his neck. “Funny thing—”

“Oh, is it?”

“I may have told him you were coming, too…”

“Is that so?” You said a little louder.

Your brother shrugged and sighed. “Look, Y/N, he loves you…a lot. I barely mentioned your name before he started to pack his overnight bag.” He chuckled at the memory. “Personally, I don’t get it. I never really felt like you outgrew that mousy, awkward phase, but I guess he sees passed that.”

Groaning, you grabbed a pillow off your bed and threw it at his head. “Johnny!”

He tossed the pillow back at you and you swatted it away. “He’s a good guy, Y/N. You could do worse. He could probably do better, but he did spend the entire drive here unashamedly asking about you, so he must think otherwise.”

“You’re an ass.”

“I’m the best and you love me.” Johnny walked to you and threw and arm over your shoulders. “Now, come on. We’ve left him alone with our mother. No one deserves that.”

----------

“Oh, I did see that…” Your mother snapped her fingers. “Oh, what was it? Uncle something, the uncle man, no that’s not it, uncle—”

“The Man from U.N.C.L.E,” Henry finished for her.

“Yes!” She smiled triumphantly as if she had come to answer on her own. “I quite enjoyed that one.”

“Well, thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

“My son says you’re Superman as well. Is that so?”

“Mom,” Your brother interrupted as he dragged you back in the room. “Leave Henry alone, alright? He gets questioned all the time. He doesn’t need it from us.”

Your mother swatted a hand. “Oh, nonsense. How am I supposed to get to know Henry here if I don’t ask questions?”

“Are you interviewing him for something?”

As she donned the oven mitts again, bent down, and pulled dinner out of the oven, your mother winked. “Maybe…”

You let out a quiet whimper, grabbed your glass, and downed the rest of your wine in half a second. Johnny nodded your way and handed you the bottle. You nodded back in appreciation and refilled your glass a little more than socially acceptable.  

“Ok, now, everyone at the table,” You mother announced.

----------

The lasagna was annoyingly delicious, but the conversation ruined it. You were definitely buzzed by now, trying to scarf down the last of your food. Maybe you could feign illness and dip out before dessert. The two hour drive back to your apartment at nine p.m., tipsy or not, sounded exponentially better than staying the night like you usually did. If only it weren’t illegal and didn’t mean potentially harming yourself or someone else. Johnny watched you sympathetically, so very clearly understanding your discomfort, until your mother drew his attention at the mention of his name.

“John has a girlfriend,” She said to Henry, then looked at her son. “Where is Margaret, Johnny?”

“Business trip,” He replied. When she raised her eyebrows, undoubtedly impressed that her son found a woman important enough to be needed around the world, Johnny elaborated. “Paris this month. She is collaborating with some famous designer out there.”

“She is so smart and beautiful, very driven. It’s extremely impressive. You must be so proud of her.”

Johnny smiled at the thought of his girlfriend. He did love her in a way he’d never loved any other and you knew how hard it was for him when she was gone, so you reached out and placed a comforting hand on his arm. “I am proud of her. I am, um…I’m actually going to ask her to marry me when she gets back.”

Your mother squealed and practically jumped out of her seat. “Oh, my goodness!” Then, she actually stood and trotted over to her son, wrapped her arms around him and kissed the side of his head. Henry met your eyes as you averted them from the spectacle that was your mother, seeming to be examining every feature of your face with an undetermined expression. You wanted to look away but found yourself unable. His stare reminded you too much of the last time you saw him. The way he had studied you then, it made you melt. It was as if he was trying to figure you out, like he thought you were some kind of otherworldly being with a uniqueness he couldn’t quite find the words to describe.

You watched as his lips slowly parted and your thoughts turned dark. You mother would be ashamed, but she quickly stopped them as she fawned more over your brother. “I’ll have grandchildren in no time!” She placed on last peck on your bother’s cheek before taking her seat again, folding her napkin back over her lap. “Henry, have you met Margaret?”

Henry’s eyes finally left your face. “I have actually.”

“Oh, isn’t she absolutely lovely? Just perfect for my Johnny. I wish Y/N would find someone.”

“Mom,” You and Johnny said at the same time. Here we go. But your mother ignored your protests.

“Someone like you, Henry,” She continued and rested her hand on his forearm. “You would be perfect. You are so charming and sweet and handsome; you’d be good for her. Y/N has a horrible history with men, absolute buffoons. They never treat her right. They never love her.”

“Mom!” Johnny shouted, thankfully trying to protect you, because with each word that passed your mother’s lips, you lost the will to protect yourself.

“But a man like you—”

The sound of your chair skidding across the hardwood drowned out any other noise. You stood, threw your napkin down and, without a word or glance at anyone at the table, left for your room.

Johnny blew out a breath and shook his head. “Mom…”

Her eyebrows rose and she shrugged, her hands out in question like a small child when asked where the last of the cookies went. “What?”

“You need to lay off. Honestly. Give her a break.”

That surprised look on her face quickly shifted. “Oh, please, John. She knows I mean well. When I find her a man, she will thank me.”

“Will she?” Your brother’s lips thinned out. “I’ll go talk to her.”

Henry dabbed his mouth with his napkin and stood. “No. I’ll go,” He said, but paused when your mother put her small hand on his arm again.

“Oh, Henry, dear, you don’t have to deal with her.”

“No, mom,” Johnny interjected. “Let Henry go. I’ll stay and help you with the dishes. I think dinner is over.”

----------

The knock at your door had you groaning. You didn’t want to see anyone, not even Johnny. There was nothing he could say to make it better, to make the entire night disappear as if it never happened. All you wanted to do was lay back in your bed and stare at the little glow stars you had stuck on your ceiling when you were five. If you turned off your bedside lamp, they would shine that bright alien-green color that once had you wishing you could live with some wild, extra-terrestrial being instead of your own mother. But then the door pounded again.

“Not now, Johnny.”

You thought your simple, aggravated tone was enough to persuade anyone to leave you alone, until a moment later when the door eased open. “Not Johnny,” Henry said, and your heart skipped a beat. “Can we talk?”

Keeping your eyes on the little ceiling stars, you said, “I swear to god, if this is about my mom—”

“It’s not.”

“If it’s about the other thing, then the answer is still no.”

Henry quietly groaned, shut the door, and stepped to the side of the bed. The room was suddenly warmer as you met his eyes, and he nudged your legs to the side so he could sit. “Why not?”

You took a deep breath and scooted your body up until your back was against the wall. He still looked at you; determined, you realized. He wanted what he wanted, and he clearly had no plans to leave without answers. “That was an accid—”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Yes,” You said firmly. “It was.”

He rose a perfect eyebrow. “How so? Neither of us were drunk, we both wanted it. You told me—”

“I know what I told you.”

Henry nodded and swallowed, his eyes darting to the floor for a second before back to you. “Were you lying to me then?”

‘No,’ You wanted to say, but somehow, your lips could not form the word. Though even if they could, you weren’t sure any sound would come out.

“Tell me, how does it happen that two people can admit their feelings for one another, sleep together, and then one of those people decides to leave in the middle of the night and start avoiding the other.”

“Didn’t I just say—”

“Yea, well, I want to talk about it,” he interrupted you, and you didn’t miss the irritation starting to seep into that delectably deep voice of his.

The look on his face had you wishing you could rip out your own stomach to avoid the nausea it induced. At least I feel guilty, you thought. You could be one of those people who lies to get in someone pants and then avoids them. You didn’t lie, so there would always be that.

“Why did you leave?” He asked.

You didn’t even know. Was there actually a single reason, or where there so many little reasons that you couldn’t pinpoint one in particular. Either way, you couldn’t explain. You knew what you felt for him. You knew it scared you, and that you didn’t want to hurt him. But how do you make a stupid choice like unwrapping his arms from your body in the middle of the night while he sleeps so you could leave, and then ever be able to look him in the eye again. You weren’t strong enough for that, not when it came to him. He made you feel amazing and beautiful and loved, and you threw it back in his face.

“Y/N—”

“Can we please not do this,” You whispered.

“No, we are doing this,” Henry said, standing sharply. “We are definitely doing this.”

You stood as well, willing yourself to be as tall as him. At least then it would be fair, but he was inches above you, and you didn’t possess the magical abilities to make yourself grow after the age of 15, so… “Henry—”

He stared you down, stepping to you and forcing you back until your spine met the wall. “Just answer the damn question, Y/N. Is what you said to me a lie?”

“I…I’m…I don’t—” You stammered and, though tried to hold your ground, couldn’t stop yourself from looking away and to the tacky, blue carpet flooring. But Henry wasn’t having it. He crooked a finger under your chin and lifted until you had no choice other than to gaze into the ocean blue of his eyes and at the small brown island in the left one.

“Do you love me or not?”

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish. You wanted to say something, you had to, he wouldn’t wait forever, but—

“Yes or no, Y/N.”

…He wouldn’t wait forever…

“Yes or--”

“Yes.”

In the same breath, he cupped your cheeks and put his lips on yours. Tasting him again sent shocks through every nerve of your body. It felt like your first sip of water after surviving days without; like the feeling of sunshine on your skin after being trapped so long in the darkness you lost track of time. It felt as if his kiss held inside it everything you needed to finally be free. No more denial, no more loneliness or fear, no more avoiding him because he clearly wasn’t going to let that happen for one more minute.

When you finally gave in and parted your lips for him, Henry groaned. His tongue on yours created a fire that burst inside of you and soothed the chills his touch created, and before you had time to process another thought, you were pushing him back to your bed and straddling his lap. Warm hands traveled up and down your back until the moan you made at the feeling of his hard on pressing to your core had him wrapping his arms tight around your waist. So tight, you were not sure how you could still breathe.

You sneaked your hand between your bodies and worked to unbuckle the belt around his hips, but he pulled back just as you yanked it from the loops and tossed it to the side. You searched his eyes for any reason he may have stopped you, but all you saw was love. He reached up and brushed a stray hair behind your ear, then caressed your cheek and stroked along your cheekbone with his thumb.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, eyebrows still drawn together in confusion.

Henry smiled to slightest. “I love you.”

“…Still?” You looked away from him in embarrassment. “Even after avoiding you for a month?”

“Yes, still,” He chuckled. “Even after that.”

You let out a little whimper and touched your forehead to his. “I don’t know how you could.”

“Because it’s you, baby.” He put a hand on the back of your neck and pecked your lips once, twice. “I’ve been in love with you for so long.”

You lifted your head from his and he smiled, glancing at your lips before meeting your eyes. “How long?”

“Since your brother brought you to the Fallout wrap party.”

“Henry…”

“I know. I should’ve told you a long time ago, way before last month.” With one hand, he threaded his fingers through your hair. The other started to rub up and down your thigh.

He nudged his nose against yours and before he could kiss you again, you whispered, “I love you.”

Your words made him contentedly hum from deep in his chest, then he placed his lips on yours again, your bottom one between his two. He sucked on it and softly nibbled, and you slid your hands up his chest until you could wrap your arms around his neck. Grinding your hips down forced a groan from Henry as he went for the button of his jeans.

Your lips separated for a moment so you could hike up your skirt, and before he could, you slipped your fingers inside his pants and pulled out his cock, grasping it in your warm hand. His lips parted at your touch, his eyes staring hard into yours as you lifted up, tugged your panties to the side, and started to ease yourself onto him. His cock parted your folds and stretched you so deliciously wide that the familiar string from his size had you gasping.

“Oh, God,” Henry sucked in a breath, sheathed fully inside you. “So good, sweetheart.”

You nodded, lost for words. Nothing could describe the feeling of him inside you. He filled you the way no man ever could, in more ways than one. Every hollow part of you he sated; your body, your heart, your mind, all brought to peace just by being with him. How you let your fear get in the way of this for an entire month, you couldn’t understand. But as he held you so close nothing could get between your bodies, you pushed your thoughts to the back of your mind and started to rock your hips back and forth on his lap.

----------

“That is a lot of stars,” Henry said as you laid back in the bed and stared up at your ceiling, his arms still wrapped around you. He hadn’t let you go, even for a second. From the moment you said ‘yes’ to his question, his hands remained on your body, his skin always touching yours.

“I like space.”

“I know,” He chuckled, then pulled you on top of him. You overlapped your hands on his chest and rested your chin on them.

“Oh yea?”

“Mhm. I know an awful lot about you. I’ve been paying attention for a while.”

“I know things about you, too.”

“Oh yea?” He asked, mimicking you with a smirk and an arched eyebrow.

“I know that you’re obsessed with video games, you like to cook and you’re actually good at it, you want a family, and you love Kal more than anyone.”

“Almost more than anyone.” He smiled at you and brushed a knuckle down your cheek. “Don’t tell him though.”

You giggled but continued. “I know that you are supportive and determined and you always go after what you want--”

“Like I did with you.”

“—And there is no one in the world like you. You make me feel safe…and loved.”

He leaned closer and you rose to meet his lips. “You’re all I want.”

The corners of your mouth crooked up, but a moment later they fell and you sat up in fear. “Oh, my God.”

“What?”

“We’ve been in here,” You paused to check the small alarm clock on your bedside table, “For an hour.” Standing quickly, you looked around, wildly searching for your underwear that Henry had yanked down your legs at some point and tossed to God knows where.

He hopped up and threw his shirt over his head. When you handed him his belt, he nodded and thanked you with a smile before he began to slip it through the loops.

You sighed in relief when you found the dark blue lacy panties and pulled them up your legs. “My mother is gonna lose it. I bet the only reason she hasn’t barged in here is because of Johnny.” You ran around like a chicken with its head cut off, looking for garments and hurriedly clothing yourself. When you passed in front of Henry, he grabbed your arm.

“Babe,” He said, cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. “It’s fine. Everything is going to be fine.”

----------

You stepped down the stairs and casually rounded the corner into the living room as if you hadn’t just had sex twice, to see Johnny sitting in one of two brown leather armchairs, sipping his gin and tonic. Your brother smirked when he saw your somewhat disheveled appearance, with Henry behind you, one of his large hands on your hip.

“Hey, sis.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t start. Where’s mom?”

He nodded his head to the couch you hadn’t bothered to glace at yet, where your mother’s body draped along it like a rag doll, a glint of drool at the corner of her mouth. “What the fuck?”

“Mom still cannot hold her booze.” He stood and watched your mother as she let out a loud snore. “Don’t worry, she didn’t hear you. She was too busy ranting about your lack of love life.” You swallowed and Johnny walked up to you. Raising one eyebrow, he looked between you and Henry, then took a gulp of the clear liquid in his glass. “The irony, huh?”

Before you could say a word, your brother slipped by you and patted Henry a few times on the shoulder. “Oh, and you’re free to go home,” Johnny called from the kitchen. “I have a feeling you’d both rather spend your night…well, not here, and I can look after our dear mother. You can thank me tomorrow.” He chuckled.

Henry looked down at you and smiled softly. “We can stay if you want.”

“Are you kidding?” You snickered. “Just give me a minute, then we can go.”

He grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “I’ll go wait by the car. Tell Johnny I’ll see him Monday, yea?”

You nodded and as Henry left out the front door, you made your way down the tiled hallway that led to the kitchen. You found your brother sitting at the counter and typing on his phone with a smile.

“Margaret?” You asked.

Johnny placed his phone back on the counter and took a swig of gin straight from the bottle. “Yea.”

“How is she?”

“Good. She’s doing really well out there.” He smiled, though halfheartedly, and went for the fridge to pull out your mother’s devil’s food cake. Grabbing a fork, he walked back to the counter, put the cake in the center and dug right into the side of it. You stared as he devoured bite after bite. If it were you, you would have surely faced the wrath of the small, plump woman passed out in the next room, but Johnny ate without a care in the world. “I fucking miss her.”

You picked at a fingernail as you asked, “Is it awful…to have someone you love hours away from you for weeks at a time?” You hated to see your brother miss his girlfriend so much his insides hurt, and you had no desire to be in the same situation.

“Not as awful as it probably sounds. It would be easier with you and Henry, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He gave you an amused look that only barely masked his own pain.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he and I have to go wherever the production companies take The Witcher, but you can travel freely with your job and, believe me, he’ll take you everywhere he’s filming as long as you say yes. He also might try to superglue you to his side though, so watch out for that.”

You scrunched your eyebrows together, trying to not smile as much as your brother’s words were begging you to, then forced it down with a swallow. “Johnny…” He hummed, and when you didn’t continue, he turned his head to look at you. “Thank you. I don’t know that I would’ve talked to him again if you hadn’t brought him here. I would’ve tried to forget about it, and him.”

Johnny smirked as he poked at the cake with his fork. “Nah, Henry wouldn’t have let that happen. He’s, like, an idiot for you, but a very…determined idiot.”

“Really?”

“Oh, baby sister, you have no idea.” He rubbed up and down the side of your arm the way he used to as kids in high school when he thought you were being a little too naïve for your own good. “But I’ll tell you all about the nauseatingly, sappy whining he did over you another time.”

That was a story you were sure Henry would try to keep as far away from you as possible and the thought made you smile. The close friends he probably told, or ‘whined’ to, as your brother said, would undoubtedly have a ball trying to recount every detail just to see how red Henry’s cheeks could get.

You wrapped your arms around Johnny from the side, your head just meeting his shoulder, and squeezed. He wiggled his arm out of your tight hold to tuck you into his side then kissed your forehead.

“I love you,” You said.

“I know.”

-----------

Seeing Henry leaning against your car, patiently waiting for you, made something in your chest lighten. He didn’t seem bored or annoyed or itching to rush you along, but just content to stay in that one spot until you were ready to go. You’d never had that before: a man who didn’t force you to follow every minute of his schedule, who didn’t make you feel like you could never be an inconvenience without consequences, who didn’t hold you down by the boulder on your chest, suffocating you until you complied. It made you appreciate what it meant to be able to inhale and exhale for more than just the need to keep your body from dying. It gave you the chance to see that there are two types of breathing: There’s the breathing that keeps you alive, and there’s the breathing that keeps you sane. Henry allowed you to have both, and it took the smallest of gestures to give you that relief.

He smiled bright when he saw you striding over the front yard grass to him and took your hands in his once you were within reach. “You ready?”

You nodded and rested your head on his chest, inhaling the scent you memorized a year ago. “Yours or mine?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“If we go to yours, we can be having sex sooner. Mine’s an extra fifteen away,” You said and looked up at him.

“Mine it is.” He winked and then kissed you.

---------------------------------

tags: Perm (let me know if you want on or off the list. Idk who prefers to be on what list anymore now that I have two.) @dugan365​ @moonlightimagination​ @pietrotheavenger​ @marvel-fanfiction​ @hawkeyeharrington​ @dani-si​ @wintersoldier98​ @then-there-was-me-emily​ @prxttybirdz​ @xceafh​ @jazzwoman897​ @fandoms-who @meganwinchester1999​ @ufffg​ @debra77​ @rebelliouscat​ @anise-d-castle6​ @projectxhappiness​ @buckybarnesappreciationsociety​ @lowkeysebby​ @quotemeow @notmyfault404​ @jjamesbbarness​ @guera31​ @sophiatomlinson23​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @hiddles-rose​ @vibhati123 @mywinterwolf​ @picapicapicassobaby​ @lokilvrr​ @sunshine-seven​ @agniavateira​

[an-annyeoing-writer]

vulnerability. – chap. 2.

Story info:

Pair: Byun Baekhyun x Reader

Rating: +18 for mentions of s*x and violence (future chapters)

Genre: angst, smut

Chapter info:

Release date: 4th June 2021

Word count: 2 751

Warnings: mentions of criminal activity

Vulnerability Masterlist || Fanfiction Masterlist || Ko-Fi

Taglist:

@shesdreaminginoverdose @mybiasdashboard @marimsun @byuns-asscheeks @multi--kpop--fanfics @vunv @making-me-blush @skittlez-area512 @bloopbloopkai @byuns-asscheeks @baekyeonoreo @kimcarinaa

Please, always comment on the newest chapter if you wish to be added to/removed from the taglist. I will be also checking the tags, so if you're shy – feel free to leave a note this way.

Previous (Chap. 1.)

Chap. 2.

“What’s my name?”

“Baekhyun.”

“Wrong.”

A stroke of the riding crop over her chest makes the woman whimper. She’s older than him, but it doesn’t matter. Right now, everything about her – her age, name, wants and aversions – they’re all reduced to the leather collar around her neck.

“How are you to address me?”

“Master” she doesn’t hesitate.

The man does, though – he stares her down just for a few seconds, as if to judge her, before he speaks again.

“Good.”

Her gaze follows him as he walks slowly around her, observing her body’s reaction. She’s not to move, not to ask questions. She’s to accept it.

“I’m going to beat you with the crop now. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Bend over.”

* * *

The day was long, but Baekhyun found himself relieving stress in one of his favorite ways.

This time, he sat in The Queen of Spades alone, sipping whiskey and silently watching people around him, eventually ending up staring into the alcohol’s surface instead, until it disappeared entirely and there were only a few pieces of ice at the bottom left to look at. Once they melted, he’d drink them up as well – and it would probably happen, as he wasn’t about to leave anytime soon. There was not much to do.

His eyes landed on the small cut on the inside of his palm, placed next to the glass; the cut was still fresh, but not deep enough to require medical assistance, or even bandaging for that matter. Accidents happened – in some jobs more than in others. The best he could do was to make sure that accidents like this would not follow him back home.

He heard his phone vibrate, but it took him a few seconds to pick it up.

“Hello.”

“Hi there, Hyunie.”

The familiar voice made him sigh deeply with annoyance.

“You don’t sound happy to hear me,” the feminine voice on the other side spoke in slight offense.

“Sorry, it’s not your fault, Luna, I thought I’d be off for the night,” he admitted honestly; the woman’s presence was not something he minded much, but she wasn’t one who ever brought good news, so his mood instantly dropped the moment he heard her voice.

“Well, tonight you can rest, I have something for tomorrow, though.”

Baekhyun exhaled, already rubbing his temples.

“Spill it, I guess.”

“It’s an office. They have a very good security and our hacker couldn’t get in, so we need someone to go there and get some physical copies out, take a few pics and then leave them where they were. No footprints. We need the copies by Monday, and I’ll send someone to give you the details in person tomorrow.”

“Alright. I’ll be waiting.”

“One more thing.”

“What’s that?” He was ready to hang up; thinking became too tiring. But tomorrow; tomorrow, he’d consider this; now was his time off.

“You did leave footprints today, everyone knows. That you got in trouble, and the police were called. What if they recognize you?”

The man snorted in response.

“No way, I know our safety measures. I wouldn’t let them see my face. It was just an accident, okay. A harmless one. I know better and it won’t happen again” he elaborated, feigning confidence – anything just to make this conversation end.

“Are you sure it was harmless?” Luna was the most composed as she spoke, her voice completely ridden of emotions, and that was what started to worry him. As he knew, carelessness and light humor were typical of her, not this seriousness and solemnity.

“What do you mean?”

“The police have a sample of your blood” she finally spilled. “It wasn’t enough to extract your DNA, but it’s already something. Be careful next time, could you?”

His heart dropped. Confidence was gone.

“…Got it.”

“That’s all. Just take care of yourself, Hyunie.”

“Yeah…”

“Sleep well tonight. You have a long day ahead.” She made a quiet smooch sound.

“Goodnight, Luna.”

The line went dead.

For the next few minutes, Baekhyun stared straight ahead, seemingly deep in thought.

In fact, though, he was depleted of thoughts. He was stuck in the bubble of no thinking, no reasons, no emotions, as his brain processed the information it just gathered, but the process was happening outside of his consciousness.

He wished to stay in his thoughtless bubble for longer, but the thin barrier between his consciousness and his internal dialogue finally broke, and he was flooded with everything that he’d been keeping at bay ever since the conversation started.

And so, Byun Baekhyun started contemplating all the things that he preferred to keep away from himself, so as to not spiral into depression and frustration.

He chose a job, thinking, that the breach of law will give him the freedom he desperately wanted.

He ended up dependent on other people to the point where not even the law could protect him anymore; exactly the opposite – the law didn’t seem much of an obstacle anymore, in comparison to all the other things he got tangled in. It wasn’t a lifestyle that one could escape, and he’d learned it way too late.

He tried to achieve independence, but he became a pawn in other people’s hands, irrelevant to the big things happening around; trusted and respected, yet simply disposable at someone else’s command.

There was only one way he knew that could help him regain the sense of control.

And that was how Byun Baekhyun coped.

* * *

“Bend over.”

She obliges without a question, leaning over the table in front of her. Apparently, he’s interested in her behind, rather than the chest that was only a bit pink from the previous hits. She’s an obedient, but slightly frisky one, one that aims to please while also hoping for some pleasure for herself, getting bored easily, but also fussy if something goes not as she wants. Baekhyun breaks her spirit every time they meet, ridding her of any remaining selfishness.

But she enjoys the pain. He makes sure she enjoys nothing else.

The first hit makes her moan, rather than resist. Her skin is smooth, with no scars, and he makes sure it won’t stay this way for much longer, at least for the next few weeks that it will take to heal after he’s done.

The next few swats must feel nice as well, but then her voice falters and turns into quiet whimpers. She doesn’t try to move away, instead, she leans back, at least for the next few hits until it becomes too much and she tries to move away instead.

She doesn’t speak, and neither does he; the sound of the riding crop hitting her bottom mixes with her breath becoming strained and whines becoming louder from pain.

* * *

It was a few days later that Baekhyun sat again in his favorite, cozy area of The Queen of Spades, with a man taller, but younger than himself; it was not so difficult to be taller than Baekhyun, but at the age of 29, most of the people in his circle of closest friends were younger, while most of the ones in his work field were older, which was some sort of a good sign, meaning that he’s worth more than most people of his age.

29 years old – a confusing age. He should have had his life figured out by now, and, to some extent, he had – he knew what he was good at, and what he could do to slowly ensure himself a stable retirement. But to say he was pleased with his career of choice would probably be a misstatement. Yet, that was what he had, and that was what he needed to accept.

They sat on the leather couch that he usually occupied. The taller, bar-styled table and two chairs were on the right side of the couch – he usually used them when carrying on serious conversations. But currently, he was there just to rest, and so in use was the couch. He glanced at the man on his side – leaning his head on Baekhyun’s shoulder, looking fragile despite, in comparison to Baekhyun, being the stronger silhouette.

“Don’t fall asleep, Sehun.”

No answer came, and he didn’t feel a strong need to disturb the other’s rest. Maybe it wouldn’t be too appropriate to sleep in such a place, making an impression of getting drunk over the limits – which was not really the case, alcohol wasn’t the reason for Sehun’s tiredness – however, in fact, who was there to judge them? Especially with Baekhyun being a regular customer who knew everyone else with such a title; and most of them knew what he was up to as well, and why the people he came with usually were not in the most energetic moods.

The music playing in The Queen of Spadeswas usually quiet and climatic, R&B and jazz tunes mixed with the voices of people, and people coming here usually didn’t try stir the bar’s aura.

In fact, it was exactly the opposite.

The moment a person entered the bar, welcomed by the dim space of browns, beiges, woods, and crystals, their soul instantly filled with the calm atmosphere. The aesthetic and climate gave a clear cue, that intruding them wouldn’t be worth much; it was the best to accept and follow, to allow the place to create the unique experience.

“Sehun, are you sleeping?” Baekhyun glanced at the other, and the man only hummed lowly in response. Baekhyun’s shoulder began to cramp, so he gently lifted the other’s head and rested it on the couch’s backrest instead. Sehun instantly moved a little to adjust, but it didn’t seem like he’d want to get up anytime soon. Baekhyun eyed the bruises on his neck – slowly darkening fingerprints of his own.

The bar’s door suddenly opened, catching his attention with noise when the door accidentally hit the wall. Two girls walked in: one of them he saw come here a few times before, alone and not, and the other… well, the other he had not only seen before, but would most likely see in the future as well. What a coincidence.

[F/n] looked nothing like when he last saw her; primarily because, at the museum, she wore modest clothes that suited the situation. Now, in tight fitted pants and a loose shirt exposing a fair amount of cleavage, she looked way more like a girl of her age, similar to many others that came to the bar every day. If not for the fact he knew her, he wouldn’t have paid her much attention now; however, he did know a bit, and if not her appearance, then at least the personality behind it kept his eyes on her until she looked over her shoulder, sparing him a shy glance, as though either knowing he’s looking at her, or, at the very least, expecting him in the same place as he usually was – in fact, he guessed it would be the latter.

She smiled at him softly, and he reciprocated the smile, tension on his face dissipating; the smile grounded him, in a way, reminding him of the fact that, just as he could watch anyone now, he could also be watched. His presence also didn’t make her as tense as it did before, which was relieving – he started worrying if he didn’t go too far during their official first meeting. The word sensitive written on the page of his notebook wasn’t taken out of the blue. She was fragile, he could tell; not in a bad way – but he knew how his demeanor impacted her back then. But that was sort of a proof in itself, a proof of her determination, because despite this impact, she didn’t back out when she had the chance to.

He still felt that she’s not completely aware of what came with the lifestyle – hobby? activity? – that she was getting herself into. Yet, when he thought about it, how could anyone know that for sure, before they had a taste of what’s it like? If anything, he could give her a chance, he thought; a trial, to see if not only she’s in for her own indulgence, but if she can handle what he himself is interested in.

“Wazzup?” Sehun’s voice sounded by his side. The man was undoubtedly good at recognizing his changes in moods. When Baekhyun didn’t feel confident enough to say too much, it was usually Sehun who asked the questions, allowing him to spill out what was on his mind.

“Nothing much. There’s a girl, though, she wants to join” he explained slowly. Sehun’s face didn’t change at the statement.

“You want to take her?”

“Not sure yet.”

“Ah, so.”

“What do you think?” Baekhyun glanced down at the other; Sehun didn’t look at him, his eyes remained closed.

“Well, I don’t know her. But since Byeoli moved out, your circle’s been kind of empty. There’s me, Chaejang, Lisa… well, yeah, that’s it. You haven’t taken anyone new in a while, and old ones are leaving… Aren’t you getting bored?”

“I’m not bored with any of you.” The statement was simple, but meaningful; Sehun smiled softly at that.

“Well, but you seem to have a lot of free time now, and when you have too much free time, you do stupid things.”

Baekhyun scoffed.

“I mean it.” Sehun looked at him directly now. “You’re getting lonely. You need stimuli.”

To the last statement, there was no answer. The men sat there in silence for some more time, until the glasses became empty, until there was nothing more to sit there for, and until the night became so deep that it threatened with becoming the morning soon.

* * *

“Will this be all?”

“Yes, thank you.”

You gave the customer in front of you a bill with the price of his purchase – an average one, just some grocery; not like you paid it much attention – and took the calculated amount of cash from his hand. No change, no problem. You shared a warm smile, as warm as you could muster up at the late hour. It was one of the days when your natural shyness and introversion didn’t get in the way, and you could enjoy the few polite words exchanged with the people passing the store.

“Thank you, goodnight.”

Right as the door closed behind the man, your phone suddenly called and you reached under the counter, where some of your personal things rested during your shift, ready to reach for if necessary.

“Hello?”

“Hello. Am I disturbing you?” Your heart skipped at the familiarity of the voice. However, this time it wasn’t due to anxiety – you started to look forward to his response, and it was like butterflies in your stomach when you received one. You probably should save his number, though.

“Um… Not much” you replied honestly.

“Is your Friday afternoon free?”

“This Friday?” It was Wednesday, you consulted your imaginary calendar.

“Yeah” he replied shortly.

“Um… Sorry, I have the night shift. Saturday?” You counteroffered right away, not wanting him to take your response as a rejection.

“Won’t you be tired?”

“I’ll sleep it off before the afternoon. I’m used to it.” Your free hand fiddled nervously with the strap of your ID badge.

“Hm, okay then. Can we meet at The Queen of Spades? I live nearby too.”

“Where are we going?”

“To my place.” He hesitated for just a second or two. “Are you okay with that?”

The statement made all the cogs in your head move. You hesitated now, too.

Was it what you thought it was? You couldn’t be sure – it could have been just another one of the ordinary meetings, one to get to know each other better, one to pass free time. It was still soon – you didn’t expect it to happen so fast. Even in the span of the time that has passed ever since seeing him for the first time, till reaching this particular point – it still felt so fast, as though after all these years of hopeless yearning you weren’t ready for jumping into the deep end and bringing your dreams to life.

Yet, your instincts were at ease, no red flags, no suspicions. You didn’t feel a need to refuse, or to wait. What would happen if you did – wouldn’t you end up regretting it? Would you be stuck in your safe-zone forever? Although you felt naïve in your trust, you still trusted your instincts foremost.

So the answer came naturally.

“Yes. Yes, I’m in.”

* * *

Please, reblog if you enjoyed, it'll help me a bunch

Author's note: How's everyone doing~? I hope you're enjoying yourselves. Please let me know your thoughts on adding that little criminal thread! And, while waiting for the next update, consider checking out my masterlist~

Next (Chapter 3.)

[lostinthewiind]

3AM in the City

Tetsurō Kuroo - Haikyuu

Synopsis: after high school, you don’t see Kuroo as much as you used to, and not nearly as much as you would like. The only exception is when he calls you up at 3AM to go for a drive—an offer you never turn down; and tonight’s events are exactly why you don’t. 

Rating: PG

Warnings: some kissing, nothing you haven’t seen in the movies before kids. A little angsty if you squint?

As far as you knew, it was just another Friday night you would be spending at home alone, which you didn’t mind in the slightest. As much as you enjoyed going out just as much as the next person, you still knew how to appreciate a quiet night in by yourself.

Scrolling through your phone, the bright, white light illuminating your face in the otherwise pitch black room, you glanced up at the corner of the small device in your hands and took noticed of the time. 3AM. 

Letting out a yawn, almost as if in response to realizing just how late it was, you shifted in bed a little, trying to decide if you should try to get some sleep or keep mindlessly prowling social media for a little while longer.

Before you could make up your mind, however, a notification for an incoming phone call took over your entire screen, startling you a little more than you would like to admit. A small smile toyed at the corners of your mouth as you read the caller ID and answered the call.

“Hello?” You pressed the phone to your ear and sighed, body ready to climb out of bed. You already knew why he was calling . . . it was the only reason he called anymore.

“Hey.” His voice was smooth and casual over the phone, indicating that he hadn’t just woken up, meaning he hadn’t slept at all yet; which wasn’t exactly uncharacteristic of Kuroo. “Did I wake you?”

You shook your head instinctively, even though he couldn’t see it. “No,” you answered. “Just lying in bed.”

There was a short pause before he spoke again. “Wanna go for a drive?”

You had already known before you answered the phone that you would be saying yes to his proposition, but instead of responding right away, you hummed softly, pretending to think about it—pretending you weren’t as eager to see him as you actually were.

“Sure.” You swung your legs over the side of your bed and started searching for some clothes in the dark, unwilling to turn on the bright overhead light and ruin the late-night trance that you enjoyed so much. 

“Meet you in ten,” he said before hanging up. 

“Yeah,” you sighed, even though he was no longer on the other line. Thankfully, you knew this was just the way that Kuroo was—he was just bad at talking over the phone—but you still wished he sounded even a little excited to see you after so long.

Pulling on the same outfit you had been wearing that day, purely because they were sitting at the end of your bed and had been easy to find, you tucked your phone into your pocket and fixed yourself up a little before heading out the door. 

Like always, you waited at the street corner for Kuroo to drive up and pick you up. When he arrived almost exactly ten minutes after he had ended the phone call, you jumped into the passenger’s seat of the incredibly expensive and lavish car he drove. That vehicle was his pride and joy and sometimes you were honestly surprised he even let you inside of it considering how little he seemed to care about you lately.

Before you could even get your seat belt on, he was speeding away from the curb and heading out of your neighbourhood. Glancing over at the man you used to consider your best friend, you noticed the creases between his brows and the way his lips stretched into a thin, tight line. Something was bothering him, but then again, he didn’t ask you to accompany him on mindless cruises at 3AM when all was well in his life.

Knowing that it would be a couple of minutes before he warmed up to your presence and wanted to talk, you turned up the radio and watched the scenery pass by out the window. In the distance, you could see the glowing lights of downtown Tokyo, the bustling hub of the city that you usually avoided due to how busy and crowded it was. 

The city in the middle of the night was a completely different story, however. Maybe it was the way the many colourful advertisements and store signs illuminated the dark night sky, or maybe it was the way the streets emptied out enough for the overwhelming aura to dissipate just enough, but driving through the streets at night brought you a sense of euphoric calm that simply couldn’t be obtained during daylight.

Looking back at Kuroo, you took note of how his face had relaxed, even if just a little. You watched his hands tense around the steering wheel, griping tight before relaxing and tapping his fingers against the leather. Feeling your eyes on him, he finally looked over at you and acknowledged your presence.

“How have you been?” he asked seemingly out of nowhere, as if he just realized he would have to make conversation with you eventually.

Your heart fluttered slightly, joy spreading through you at the thought that he genuinely cared about how you were doing. “Fine, thank you,” you told him. “And you?”

“Okay,” he lied. You knew it was a lie, because even though he had changed drastically since high school, he was still just as bad at bending the truth, especially when it came to you.

“That’s good.” You rested your head against the window and observed the passing buildings and how they grew taller and taller the further into the city Kuroo drove.

As silence consumed the inside of the car once more, you became keenly aware of the music playing in the background; so, when a certain song that brought back a lot of memories started playing, you noticed it before Kuroo. 

Your eyes widened a little as you looked from the radio to Kuroo, waiting to see if he remembered it as well—hoping he remembered it. 

Feeling your eyes on him once more, he cocked a dark brow in your direction. “What?”

“This song.” You gestured lazily to the speaker. “Do you remember it?”

Kuroo chewed on his bottom lip as he listened, and for a moment, you thought he had actually forgotten. Then, a wondrous smile spread across his dimly lit face and he nodded. “Yeah, course I remember.” His spirits seemed to have increased ten-fold. “You always insisted we play it, and every time we did, you would sing every single word. Without fail. Every. Single. Time.” 

A soft chuckle escaped your lips. “What can I say? It’s a good song.” You turned up the volume a couple more notches. 

This time, when the conversation ceased, the vehicle wasn’t filled to the brim with thick tension. Instead, you found yourself thinking back to your days in high school—those incredible three years that you would give anything in the world to return to. Back then, you and Kuroo had been nearly inseparable. Back then, you hadn’t had to fight for his attention.

Back then, you genuinely felt like he wanted to be around you.

Looking to your former-friend and now casual acquaintance, you watched him carefully as he drove, his eyes glued to the road in front of himself. You wondered what had happened. What had gone so wrong that he felt the need to distance himself from you? Had you done something to push him away . . . or was that just the way high school friendships played out?

The question as to what series of events had taken place to get you to where you were now was one that you were unable to answer. The only thing you knew for sure was that you missed Kuroo . . . more than you probably should, but you missed him nevertheless.

Feeling a sudden burst of confidence, either from the inspiring city lights or the nostalgic song, or maybe both, you shifted in your seat to face the man beside you and cleared your throat. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s been bothering you?” you asked matter-of-factly.

Kuroo glanced over at you for a split-second, blinking a few times in response. He was clearly taken aback by your sudden and direct inquiry, and you completely expected him to ignore you altogether or change the subject. What you didn’t expect was for him to turn into the nearest parking lot, park the car, and let out a long, exasperated sigh.

Worry and curiosity coursing through your veins, you sat silent and still, waiting for him to speak or move or do anything.

“I feel lost,” he finally said, his line of sight falling to his lap. There was a pause, and you were unsure if he was going to elaborate more or leave it at that. When you opened your mouth to respond, however, he continued. “Work takes up all of my time . . . so much so that I’m starting to realize I’ve cut ties with everyone I used to know without even noticing it; not until it was too late. And the worst part is, work isn’t even going well. This corporate ladder bullshit is way harder than I ever imagined. I feel stupid for throwing away everything I had for something I might not ever be able to obtain . . . for something I don’t even enjoy. It feels like it’s all for nothing.”

Your jaw dropped slightly. Kuroo had never been that open about his feelings with you before; not unless you had pried for days-on-end or he was plastered drunk. 

You were unsure how to respond at first, so you did what you usually did when people came to you with a problem; you tried to put yourself in their shoes and then give the advice you thought you would want to hear.

“Well, I’m sure it’s not all for nothing,” you told him. “You didn’t get into business because you hated it. Sure, maybe the spark is a little dimmer right now or you’re going through a really rough patch . . . but don’t doubt yourself over one little bump in the road.”

Slowly, Kuroo turned his head toward you, his dark eyes landing on you for more than a few seconds for the first time that night. “But how do I know if it’s worth throwing everything else away over?”

“It’s not,” you said simply. “No job is worth throwing everything else in your life away over. But the best part is, you don’t have to choose between a career and a social life, and anyone who says you do is just plain lazy or insanely bad at time management.”

Kuroo cracked a smile at that and a puff of air that could be interpreted as a soft laugh passed his lips. 

“So my advice is just try to do better from here on out.” You smiled back. “Everyone has a hard time every once in a while. If the people in your life truly care about you, they will understand.”

“Do you understand?” he asked.

This time, you didn’t hesitate at all. There was no need to play coy or pretend like you cared less than you really did. “I do.” You nodded. “I’ve missed you.”

Kuroo’s eyes softened and his small smile faltered for half a beat. “I’ve missed you too.” 

Before you knew what was happening, Kuroo’s large hand was caressing your cheek and his lips were pressed against yours. Even though it was the middle of the night, you swore your entire world lit up at that moment. You had known you had wanted your best friend back, but this was so much better. This was more than you could have ever hoped for.

“I’ve been horrible to you.” Kuroo whispered against your lips, his fingertips trailing down the side of your neck and sending shivers up your spine. “I know this is a lot to ask . . . but can you ever forgive me?”

“Just promise to call me more than once a month . . . and maybe during the day sometimes,” you chuckled. 

He laughed, his hot breath warming your face. “I can do that.”

“Then yes, I forgive you.”

[masterjedilenawrites]

Blueberries and Cowboys: Chapter 4 (Blueberry Path)

A choose-your-own-adventure style fic. Refer to this Masterlist for previous chapters and alternate paths.

Chapter 4: The Party (Blueberry Path)

Pairing: Thrawn x reader

Content: Light drinking, more pining

Length: 2.4k

AO3 Link (In case you like it better over there, it’s okay, no judgement)

The gala was as elaborate and ostentatious as you would expect of a formal event at the Imperial Naval Academy. It was like the whole ballroom shimmered as glasses of drinks were passed around and ornate dresses swished about in dance. You'd certainly never been a part of anything so grand from your home world before.

It was quite a sight, to be sure. But it still paled in comparison to the man who walked beside you.

You could feel the stares from the classmates and superiors around you as you moved deeper into the ballroom with your date. But you didn't let their open judgement get to you. You were proud to be on the arm of Mitth'raw'nuruodo. If anything, these pretentious Imperials should be envious of your connection to him.

You also tried not to let your own insecurities get to you. Occasionally you'd catch glimpses of yourself and Thrawn, reflecting off mirrors and windows. You'd thought you looked decent standing alone in front of your bedroom mirror. But next to him, you were so... plain.

"The music is quite pleasant," said Thrawn from beside you.

Part of the plan for the night was to substitute your targets for other subjects, so any potential eavesdroppers would be none the wiser to your true intentions. Anything related to music was to symbolize one half of the plan: Eva and Arden.

You saw the couple near the entrance, having just arrived a few minutes behind you. Eli was supposed to keep an eye on them, while you and Thrawn were tasked with Burdick. You internally shook yourself free of your complicated thoughts about the gala and your date, and instead turned your focus to the mission.

"Do you think Eli has noticed?"

"Yes, he seems to be enjoying it." Thrawn nodded across the room, where Eli was standing next to his date. He held a drink and was making a show of casually looking around, but you could tell he was paying extra attention to the entrance.

"And how about that assignment?" you asked. Burdick would be referred to by discussions of homework, another innocent topic. "Have you found your thesis for it yet?"

"No, I'm still looking into it," Thrawn said calmly.

You looked up at him to see his steady red eyes were mostly blinking politely at the faces that passed directly in front of you. Every once in a while, ever so subtly, they would flick elsewhere. A gap in the crowd. A far corner of the room. You even caught him looking at a tray of champagne glasses hovering nearby, casting a perfectly angled reflection of the space behind him.

Gods, he was so good.

"Is there something you wish to say?" he suddenly asked, catching you off guard as his eyes made their way to your own.

"No..." You struggled to find balance, not wanting to seem too dismissive or too dishonest. "I was... uh, just... watching you... watch... the room...."

Thrawn's left eyebrow quirked ever so slightly. Almost imperceptible to the untrained eye, but you knew it was a sign that he was amused.

"It would be far more productive if you were to watch the room with me," he stated. His eyes traveled to somewhere behind you and for a moment you thought he had finally found Burdick. But upon turning, you saw it was only a tall cocktail table that had opened up. Thrawn placed a gentle hand on your lower back and guided you toward it.

"Here. Now we can discreetly observe both directions," he said just low enough that only you could hear. He moved to stand opposite the table from you, and while he was right, your positions now covered both halves of the ballroom, you were finding it difficult to focus on your side when Thrawn was also in your view.

"Drink?" he asked, swiping two champagne glasses from a passing tray and placing them on the table before you had a chance to answer. Considering he didn't touch his glass after that, only resumed his scanning of the crowd with hands folded neatly in front of him, you knew it was more for show than anything.

But your nerves were on fire, and so you gladly took up your glass and downed most of it in one go.

"I have decided on my thesis for the assignment," said Thrawn as you clanked the drink back onto the table. You held back a burp as you casually looked over your shoulder to where Thrawn seemed to be looking. Commander Burdick was hovering by an hors d'oeuvre table, a small plate piled high with food in one hand, scowling at every person that passed him.

"Just the one assignment?" You turned back before the commander could notice you staring. You could've sworn you'd overheard during your recon that Burdick had found his own date.

"My last-minute arrangement," said Thrawn quietly, breaking from the code you were supposed to be using. "It occurred to me the commander may end up distracted by his partner, rather than focusing attention on Arden. Thus, I've arranged for his date to be delayed in arriving, possibly even too late to make it altogether."

You nodded and finished off your champagne.

"You're not impressed."

You looked up at him to find his eyes were inspecting you, searching for something. Approval? Praise? Surely not, not from Thrawn.

"Would you like me to be?" you side-stepped the question, mostly out of surprise.

"I don't do these things for clout," he stated plainly. "But I do value your opinion."

You blinked at him a few times, unsure how to process those words. To say you could count on one hand the number of opinions Thrawn valued outside of his own was an overstatement, as there would only be one finger up for Eli. You'd never dreamed you could be included in that count, too.

Thankfully you were distracted from having to come up with a response by the change in music to something much more lively. Several pairs of people excitedly moved toward the dance floor, including Eli and his date, and Eva and Arden nearby. You angled your head to see around Thrawn's body and watched them.

"The music is... uh... going well." You cringed at your own inability to find a way to incorporate the code. Thrawn casually followed your gaze, only sparing the two couples a second of attention before turning back to give you an amused smirk.

"And now we must do our part. With the homework."

He came around the table with an arm extended and gave you a wink. An honest-to-god wink. You thought you were surely going to collapse on the floor, but managed to grab ahold of his arm in time, allowing him to lead you away from the table.

"Commander," Thrawn's ever-calm voice raised in volume to address the man you were approaching. The Commander in question looked up from his food plate and somehow managed to scowl even deeper as he recognized who was addressing him.

"Well, well. If it isn't my favorite student," Burdick said dryly. Though he was a full two feet shorter than the Chiss, he still had an air of looking down on him. "I'm surprised you'd even come to an event like this."

"The Academy has provided a generous occasion tonight," said Thrawn evenly. "It would have been in bad taste for us not to attend."

It was only when Thrawn referred to you collectively that Burdick took note of your presence.

"Commander," you said with a polite smile that he was definitely not deserving of. "It is quite an evening. Are you enjoying yourself?"

Burdick scoffed slightly, which you took as his attempt at a laugh. He turned back to Thrawn as he responded with a grumbled, "Thoroughly."

"And where is your date, Commander?" Thrawn asked, turning to you slightly. "What was her name? Eva?"

You met Thrawn's eyes, and though they perhaps didn't seem much different than usual, you thought you picked up enough in them to understand his game. You suppressed a mischievous smile as you played along.

"Thrawn," you pretended to scold in a low voice, slapping his arm and giving Burdick an apologetic look. You could already see a vein bulging along the man's temple at the mention of her name. "I'm so sorry, Commander.... Thrawn, I told you they're not together, not anymore."

"Ah," the Chiss nodded solemnly. "That explains why I saw her dancing with a fellow classmate of ours."

He turned to cast a look at the couple in question, and to allow enough of a view for Burdick to see them on the dance floor as well. Arden was moving rather intimately with Eva, and though they were a distance away, you could still see the boy's eyes glancing over at Eli and Sadie just a few steps beside them. Your friend was putting on quite a show with Sadie, undoubtedly making Arden feel the need to one-up him with his own partner. How clever.

"Who is that?" you feigned ignorance, squinting your eyes just a little dramatically.

"I believe his name is Arden Fey," said Thrawn. "He is in our flight class."

The two of you watched the couple for just a few seconds more before simultaneously turning back to Burdick. The man's face was as flushed with annoyance as you'd hoped.

"My apologies, Commander," said Thrawn. "I did not mean to be inconsiderate. However, on that note, I have spotted another one of our professors. We really must acknowledge them. Please excuse us."

Thrawn gave a courteous nod as he began leading you away. The Commander only remained rooted to the spot, glaring at his ex as she continued to move provocatively with her new beau.

There did end up being another professor that you spent some time greeting. You tapped your fingers restlessly against your thigh while Thrawn engaged in their small talk, all the while sneaking looks behind you to track Burdick as he continued to fixate on the dance floor. When Thrawn eventually wrapped up, you were practically bounding after him as you went toward the veranda in the back of the ballroom.

"Oh my god," you finally let yourself smile, wide and excited. There were only a few people outside, most briefly checking on the view before returning indoors, and one pair who'd clearly been fooling around in the shadows and hurried away with frustrated looks as you and Thrawn went up to the balcony.

"I can't believe we're pulling this off," you were still gushing.

"You speak as if you had doubts about this evening," said Thrawn. He leaned against the railing beside you, an amused glint in his eyes as he watched your face contort in all its excitement.

"Not doubts, just..." you shrugged, not sure why you were so surprised, honestly. It's not like this was the first, or even the most complex, scheme of Thrawn's you'd been a part of. Maybe it was that glass of champagne, or your nerves from earlier that day resurfacing. "I don't know, it just feels good when a plan comes together."

Thrawn hummed, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he looked away in thought. You let your gaze drift out, too, taking in the twinkling glow of the garden lights. There wasn't much impressive with that small patch of greenery in the daytime; most of the plants were imported and only minimally kept up by ungrateful horticulture students who just needed some extra credits for the year. But at night, there was enough shadow to pretend something interesting might be hiding out there. In fact, now that you thought of it....

"Oh, I heard they're bringing in some featherferns soon," you said, remembering you'd been meaning to tell him before all of this flight school drama came up. "One in the traditional violet, but the other is supposedly a pale yellow. Possibly a hybrid, or maybe sun damaged, they're going to have to study it to be sure. But they'll replace those awful garlic roses."

Whatever thoughts Thrawn had been consumed by were no longer important as he looked down on you with wide eyes. "I was not aware you were keeping tabs on the Academy's flora collection."

You threw him a little smile and a shrug. "Well, ever since someone taught me to appreciate it, I can't help but stay informed."

"I am glad," he said, turning to face you more fully. "And likewise, your enthusiasm for this evening also pleases me. Your good spirits are... infectious."

You gripped the balcony railing in order to steel yourself. Your eyes flitted about his face, once again unsure how to read it. Was he really smiling at you now, or was it your imagination playing tricks? A mere projection of the feelings you wished he had? You usually didn't mind the mystery that surrounded Thrawn; in fact, it was probably what drew you closer to him. If he chose not to show his thoughts and feelings, he did so for good reason, and you were free from the burden of having to interpret or address them.

But now it infuriated you. You needed to know what he was thinking. Where did his mind go every time you said something that caused him to look away? How strongly of a line had he drawn between your usual dynamic and the parts he was having you play tonight? Was he even conscious of the fact you were standing much closer than friends typically did in such a setting?

You shivered involuntarily. It was much cooler outside, but his gaze on you was also unnerving. The slight shake of your arms and the growing goosebumps on your skin did not escape his notice.

"You're cold," he stated.

Despite the truth of that statement, no sooner did he say it did your cheeks flush with warmth. Now you were wondering if he was going to offer you his jacket, picturing how warm it would be, how it would smell like him.

"We should return inside."

But obviously Thrawn's solution was much more practical. He moved away from the balcony and set his arm back in place for you to accept it. You cursed at yourself for letting your feelings get the best of you yet again today. Why were you doing this to yourself?

You took his arm and offered an easygoing comment to cover your silliness. "We should probably check on our assignment, anyway."

He nodded with what could've been another smile, but you were determined not to keep reading into it.

"Yes, we certainly should."