#we have seven books of set up and then almost as soon as this is established we create conflict and stress within it

[bookwyrminspiration]

"No pressure. No time limit. You set the pace and I'll just...follow your lead." (Flashback, p. 663)

"[...] the way she was chewing her lip made Sophie pretty sure that Biana was asking herself the same question Sophie was. Would Fitz wait?" (Legacy, p. 523)

killing and maiming, Fitz I'm so sorry they'd do this to you bbg I'm so sorry the intrigue of relationship drama was deemed more important than staying true to your character. I could write you so much justice

[ilium-ilia]

Daughters with Soft Underbellies

john price x fem!reader | cowboy/outlaw x preachers daughter | masterlist

Chapter Two: love, and love well

tw: religious abuse, domestic violence, minor grief, minor man handling

When you arrive home, you lay the wine out on the table like an offering to Jesus Christ Himself. 

A perfect trifecta, the florid liquid sloshes and slowly settles in their bottles as you wipe your sweaty palms on the front of your apron. Skin soaked in moonshine, the scent is so strong you almost feel tipsy off of the fumes alone. Luckily, your father has locked himself away in his office, rendering him too far away to smell the stench on you—likely hunched over his well-loved bible to take notes. Even now you can see the way that poor book falls apart at the seams with loose pages and a fractured spine. 

(Is this why he rips you apart the way he does? Is this how he loves, and loves well? By ruining? Let all that you do be done in love. If your spine was just as crooked as his bible, would you find him attempting to mend you with glue?) 

Instead of ruminating about your father’s strange expression of care, you take note of the light that bleeds on the floor. Honey gold, it livens up the wood floors your father forced you to scrub clean the previous weekend. Cleanliness is close to Godliness, and still he managed to track dirt in not even hours after you had finished. It’s of no consequence—you are grateful to be given so many opportunities to improve yourself in both skill and personhood. 

Sighing, the setting sun reminds you that there is a meal to be cooked. Having been denied lunch in favor of running errands, your mouth waters at the sight of the ingredients alone. Beans, sourdough biscuits, brown gravy and sowbelly; the steam and flames leaves your cheeks toasty by the time they’re finished cooking. 

You fix up two plates and gather the cutlery to set the table before taking a seat. There are three chairs that surround this small, square table, yet one has remained empty for longer that you’d care to admit. Sometimes, if you stare at the gaping void on your right for long enough, you can nearly feel the warmth your mother left behind. She lingers in odd places throughout the house—in the jar of sourdough starter she created that you still feed; in the lilies she planted along the deck that refuse to die no matter how many times your father yanks them from the earth; in the face of the full moon that winks at you through the window as the sun sets. 

As soon as the clock strikes seven, the rusty hinges to your father’s office squeak open. Quiet, like scuttering field mice. His pace is languid as he wanders towards the table, foggy eyes piercing through you. Greeting him with a smile, you gesture to his place at the table where cooling food awaits him with puffs and swirls of steam. 

“Supper’s ready, Daddy,” you say as if it wasn’t already obvious. “And I got the wine just like you wanted.” 

He responds with nothing but a hum as he takes the seat next to you. His chair creaks and groans beneath his weight, crying out like a wounded animal begging for relief. Swallowing, you roll your lips together as you await his word. 

“Say Grace, girl,” he orders. 

Eagerly, you fold your hands and rest them above the table before bowing your head. You squeeze your eyes shut. 

“Father, we thank you for your many blessings. We thank you now for this meal. Please bless it. May it nourish and strengthen our bodies to your honor and glory. Amen.” 

Your prayer flows from your mouth like blood from your wounded knuckles, and it’s enough for your father to be content with it. You wait for him to take the first bite before you dare to indulge in the meal you slaved over the hot stove for. A stitch of hunger ravages your stomach and it refuses to relinquish its hold on you until you’ve shoved a spoonful of beans into your mouth. Stomach tinged with avarice, it hardly allows you to taste the flavors on your tongue before demanding you swallow. 

Dinner is a quiet affair, like usual. There is nothing for you to share with your father that he doesn’t already know—or something he could find the heart to care for—and he seems to speak to you only to order you around or share his displeasure about something. Usually, his silence means you’re doing well, so you bask in the cold nothingness. 

Though, it usually doesn’t take long for him to shatter through the algid atmosphere with a sharp tongue. 

“The change that Mr. Beckett gave you? Where is it?” he asks. 

Nodding, you swallow the food in your mouth before placing your utensils on your plate to rest. “I’ve got it right here in my pocket,” you assure. 

Yet, when you burden yourself with cloth against your aching wounds once more, your stomach drops when you can’t find the change you were given. Blinking, you dig deeper, and still there is nothing but the cotton of your apron. Soft, you’ve had this clothing item for years and it has never betrayed you before. Desperate, you stand to your feet to search, worried that you can’t feel the change in the swathes of fabric in your dress. 

The only thing your fingertips brush against is a torn hole. 

It’s big enough to fit your thumb through frayed seams—plenty large enough to lose the coins Mr. Beckett gave you. Your heart leaps into your throat where it threatens to choke you and you are brutally reminded of your time in the saloon. Those strange men, how anxious you were to flee that place, how your apron caught on the stool…

“Well?” your father questions impatiently. 

“I-I’m sorry, Daddy. I don’t… I don’t have it,” you admit. 

Though you’ve already admitted defeat, your hands continue to fruitlessly paw at your skirt. Was it left behind at the saloon? Could you go back now and see if Mr. Beckett cleaned it up? Or did you leave a trail of coins behind you during your walk home like breadcrumbs meant to lure children? Would you have to scrounge the earth on your hands and knees in order to make this right? 

“You don’t have it?” he repeats incredulously. 

“My apron tore, it must’ve fallen out of my pocket,” you explain with trembling hands. “I-I’m sure Mr. Beckett still has it. I’ll go back and look for it. I’m sorry, Daddy, I promise I didn’t mean to lose it.” 

He is quiet. Silent for long enough that your heart begins to quiver in your chest like a hare burrowing beneath the earth to hide from vicious predators. You stand with a rigid spine as you wait for him to wipe his hands on the front of his trousers. When he finally looks at you, his eyes hold nothing but virulent desire. 

“No one who practices deceit shall dwell in my house; no one who utters lies shall continue before my eyes,” he quotes. “Nothing but excuses and empty promises. Tell me, girl, why do you lie to me?” 

“I’m not lying, I swear it,” you assure. 

“Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord,” he quotes further. 

“Daddy please, I’d never lie to you,” you beg. Tears begin to trespass along your cheeks, but you know better than to wipe them away. If you don’t acknowledge their existence, then maybe he won’t either. 

“Not only are you a liar, but you are a thief,” your father claims as he rises from his seat. He moves around the table and you find your teeth biting into your tongue to prevent you from begging any further. “What punishment do you think is fit for a liar and a thief? Do they deserve mercy? Does a false witness go unpunished, girl? Or shall he who breathes out lies perish?” 

You are given no time to contemplate his questions and rehearsed verses before the back of his hand bites into the apple of your cheek. He carries more strength than a preacher should—oftentimes you wonder if he carries the strength of God Himself when he punishes you. Your ears ring at the impact as your feet stumble from the force. A lip in the wooden floor catches your heel, and you cry out as you fall onto your rump. Lights dance in your vision like sun flares on a photograph as you stare up at your father. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say there was a halo of light around his head. 

But you do know better. The only thing that ever illuminates your father is his anger. 

He strikes you three more times on the same cheek. He’s kneeling next to you and yet still towers over you—always maintaining power and control. Pain blossoms along the side of your jaw and up into the mushy bits of your brain as you stifle your sobs. A migraine is bound to burrow into the thin layer of your skull soon, but for now the only thing that hurts worse than this throe is your repentance. 

“Well,” he speaks when he’s finally determined that you’ve had enough. “Go then. If you say you’ve lost it, then go find it, and don’t you dare return until you do. Do I make myself clear, girl?” 

Clutching the side of your face, you nod only for him to bark at you to speak. “Yes, Daddy. I understand.” 

When the cool dusk air hits your skin, you do not find yourself heading into town. You do not chase the change that lurks in the thicket that lines the trail or in Mr. Beckett’s rowdy saloon. Instead, you follow the moonlit trail that your mother used to take you on when you were a child. 

It looks different in the dying light of the sun—or perhaps you have your tears to thank for the distortion. Still, it’s a path you could follow even with your eyes plucked from your head, and you continue to stumble further and further away from home while you lament in your sorrows. Even the crickets join you in your babbling as they leap out of your way and dive into the bramble. 

Something has broken in you today. Something that has been suffering from stress fractures and erosion for longer than it should have, and now it gushes. It ferments like wine and festers like a bad wound and for a moment you swear you hear the moon urging you to follow its guiding light. Your father always told you that if you ever got lost, all you needed to do was look for the steeple that towers close to God and you’d find your way back, yet now you find relief in looking over your shoulder to see it growing smaller in the distance. Even as the worn trail ends in a fit of weeds and fallen trees, you persevere along the chossy earth. 

Your feet don’t stop moving until your toes catch on a clump of sagebrush at the top of a steep hill. You save yourself before you tumble to the ground and you use that opportunity to let yourself slowly sink into the dirt. It isn’t until you’re resting on your bum that your body is able to comprehend the amount of pain you’re in. The sting of your knuckles, the bruises that taint your knees, and the throb in your cheek—it all coalesces until it sears your skin just as bad as your obloquy does. 

Despite it all, there is still beauty. 

It flickers in the distance as your sleepy town begins to enjoy evening festivities with lit lanterns and warm windows. Perched high in the hills, you have a perfect view of the way wagon trails carve into the earth like a knife through fresh ham. A part of you swears you can hear someone playing the piano in Mr. Beckett’s saloon, but you shake that illusion as soon as your eyes land on the steeple of your father’s church once more. 

You are still too close to home for comfort. 

Once you manage to catch your breath, you stand back up on your aching feet and continue trekking through the foreign and unforgiving terrain. You are grateful for the milky moonlight that illuminates the space between tree trunks and bushes, though you still find spindly branches pulling at your dress. 

You’re unsure of what you should do in a situation like this. Surely your father sits at home finishing the meal you prepared for him as he waits for you to return with the change he is owed. Yet, the thought of returning home while your wounds are still fresh makes your stomach twist with a terrible, mawkish longing. 

Any craving for your mangled sense of home quickly evaporates at the scent of smoke. 

It’s an active fire—still burning with freshly cut logs that sputter dark smoke. A skinny plume rises in the air where it weaves between stars and you find yourself utterly stricken with curiosity. The scent grows stronger as you meander. You’re not sure what you’re hoping to find. Here in the middle of the night, out on the fringes of your town—the environs of the wilderness—surely it would be nothing good. 

(And never satisfied are the eyes of men.)

Marmalade light bleeds between branches as you catch sight of a small campfire stirring in the distance. Shadows warp your point of view, making your head spin and forcing you to brace against a tree as you squint to make sense of the shapes. You see horses. Several hands tall, they dip their heads low as they lazily graze on the sparse bits of grass at their feet. Their owners seem to also be enjoying food of their own as the scent of game wafts toward you on the bitter breeze. 

Braving a few steps closer, you catch the tail end of a chuckle and what sounds like an insult. Then, you see it—an odd haircut bathed in amber. Cropped short on either side of his head, yet leaving a longer trail down the center, the style reminds you of a horse’s mane. 

“You can piss right off with that type of talk.” 

“Aye, but I’m taking all the firepower with me. Not unless you trust Simon with the dynamite.” 

There’s a scoff. “Scary thought, that. Bad enough already trusting you with it.” 

Their accents are strange—unfamiliar at the very least. They speak as if they’re fresh off of the boats that traversed across the Atlantic, which isn’t anything interesting. Plenty of people from all over the world flock to see the United States and stake a claim, yet travelers are rare around these parts. You’d expect accents like this to hang around Grand Hollow, not the tiny town of Penmosa on the fringes of nowhere. 

Yet, there’s something especial about these figures. Marginally familiar like the way juniper bushes smell just like their berries taste, yet bitter enough to leave your lips puckering. You can’t discern if it’s because of the huff of the man on the right side of the fire, or the warm smile of the man on the left, but there is something haunting about their presence. You soak in the view of them and find nothing but a herald for something truculent. 

It isn’t until you meet the sapphire blaze that glints from across the campfire that the familiarity crashes down on you. A low brim hat nearly smothers the flames in his gaze, but there’s no mistaking the man that seems to appear from thin air—these are the men Mr. Beckett warned you about. Recalcitrant outlaws who bring nothing but trouble. Your sweet bartender had told you that they were nothing but wild animals, and now here in the penumbra you are able to witness this for yourself.

(All things are full of weariness; a man cannot utter it; the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing.)

The urge to flee hardly has the time to boil in your bones before a fat palmed hand clasps over your mouth to silence you. Your scream dies as a gasp in your throat while your fingers claw at a thick forearm, nails desperately attempting to peel into skin like it’s fresh bread and not pure iron. Squirming heels spade into the dirt in front of you, but the beast at your back moves the earth in order to drag you toward the fire and the pack of wolves that await you. 

Mind whirling, you scream into tobacco tainted flesh as the beast huffs with effort to keep you contained. You find yourself suddenly yearning to see the steeple of the church once more, but that desire dissipates as you’re tossed on the ground where you land on your already injured knees with a yelp. 

“Don’t like eavesdroppers,” the voice behind you growls. 

Palms pressing into the earth, you twist around to gaze at the herculean man that stands above you. He’s just as tall—if not taller—than the horses hitched to the pine trees nearby, and his face is obscured with a dark bandana. Only his eyes are to be seen; not even the incandescence from the fire can thaw the frost he exudes. 

“I-I wasn’t eavesdropping,” you stutter. 

“No?” the masked man prods. “Just out in the middle of nowhere staring at our camp for fun then, huh?” 

“No, no, I just- I was wandering was all. I promise, mister. I didn’t mean any harm, I swear it.” You’re stammering. Tripping over your words before they form. This beast pins you with his gaze and you’re stuck with the threat of his claws as the flames of the campfire lick at your back. The heat is almost enough to evaporate the tears on your cheeks. 

“Bullshit,” he says, acidulous. 

“Easy, Riley.” 

A canorous voice rings behind you, calming the escalating situation though doing nothing to quell your quickening pulse. Eyes stuck on the brute before you, you are forced to listen as a pair of spurs jingle quietly in tune with the crackling of the fire. Languid. Creeping. The sound halts to your left and you finally muster the courage to look. 

The boots are nice. Well kept, though worn. Classic cowboy boots with the pointed toes and strong heel meant for keeping steady in stirrups. For a moment you feel as if you’re kneeling in the church again with knuckles bared. These are your father’s boots pacing back and forth as he greedily determines your castigation for whatever transgression you’ve committed before him. 

Then, the figure kneels, and you are brutally brought back into the present. The faded blue jeans, the thick belt, and the six shooter glinting in the amber light. This is him—the leader of the 141 Mr. Beckett told you about. There’s no mistaking his vivid azure gaze. 

You are plagued with an odd callosity—if you truly had your wits about you, you’d be making a run for it. Now, you are no better than a fawn fainting at the sound of gunshots. 

A perturbing smile flickers across his lips as he reaches up and removes his hat, revealing neatly kept dark hair beneath. His eyes don’t leave you, not even as he runs a hand over his locks to smooth out the bumps. 

“We’ve got nothing to be worried about here, boys,” the man assures with a sonorous chuckle. He glances around at them where they shift and huff as if disappointed at the lack of fresh meat that should be splayed before them. Then, his eyes find you again where they narrow—almost taunting. “Nothing but a lost lamb, aren’t you?”

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[atlabeth]

(please) spare me indignity

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader

summary: you and spencer spend more time together. it's bad, then it's good, then it's something else altogether.

a/n: continuing the gideon!reader series! a whole lot of this is arguing because they love each other fr. sorry this took so long, for some reason i had a really hard time finding my footing here but i hope you enjoy!! reader is a victim of the sassy man apocalypse bc this may be s1/2 spencer but he is not going to not be standing up for himself!! have this new banner that i made to try and help with my inspiration. title is from nothing new by rio romero

wc: 5k

warning(s): r and spence argue some more. angst, hurt w/o comfort, then hurt with comfort! idk theyre kinda sweet

You and Spencer spend the next six and a half hours watching movies. 

You make it through Goodfellas and you only tell him to be quiet twelve times. You take a break to get water and make popcorn, which was so generously provided in your grocery supply, and while you’re doing it, Spencer insists on picking the next one. You end up watching Psycho, and you don’t think he lets a single scene go by without explaining the meaning behind it. 

You choose Notting Hill after, and he knows just as much. He picks Halloween—it doesn’t really help your stalker anxieties, and Spencer apologizes profusely when you bring it up, but you still end up finishing it. Next you go for Pointe Grosse Blank, then Spencer picks Kolya, a Russian film that he specifically put into the box. 

There are subtitles, but he spends half the time translating for you anyway—apparently there are nuances to the script that an English translation doesn’t get compared to the original Russian, and that would be a tragedy. 

He’s in the middle of his third rant going on seven minutes when you finally break. 

“Okay,” you say as you reach for the remote, “I can’t do this anymore.”

You do a double take when your hand meets another instead of hard plastic, and you see Spencer beat you to it. You pull your hand away as soon as possible, feeling your face heat from annoyance.

“What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” he echoes. “The movie’s not over yet.”

“I can’t take any more of your rambling,” you say. “I’m cutting you off.”

He frowns. “We have to finish the movie first.” 

“What are you, a broken record?”

“I couldn’t be a broken record because I said two different things,” he protests. “Besides, what else are you going to do?” 

“Unpack my things? Read a book? Sit in silence staring at the wall in my room?” You shrug as you stand up and walk over to the kitchen. “I’ve got a lot of options.” 

“Gideon told me not to let you out of my sight,” Spencer says, standing up as well. 

“You can see me pretty well from there,” you say. “You don’t have to invade every bit of my privacy.” 

“I— I kind of do,” he says. “The whole point of a safe house is to keep you safe. If you’re off doing your own thing, it’s not really safe.”

“It’s not like I’m leaving!” You throw up your hands in exasperation. “What, are you going to sleep with me too? Make sure I don’t go anywhere in the middle of the night?” 

It’s almost funny how fast his face flushes bright red. You’ve got a feeling he doesn’t have a lot of experience with this sort of thing. 

“That’s what I thought,” you say. “Keep watching your movie if you want. Just leave me alone.” 

You feel his eyes on your back as you storm off to your room. The childish part of you wants to slam the door, but you decide to throw Spencer the smallest bone and leave it open. 

It’s not his fault that you hate him, and that just makes you hate him even more. He gets to come out of this the bigger person, a saint for putting up with your various deficiencies while keeping you safe from a stalker. You’re just the difficult, ungrateful, estranged bastard daughter of the most deified man in the Behavioral Analysis Unit who can’t set her personal grudges aside for her own good. 

You shove your duffel bag into the bed with a little too much force. You unzip it, deciding to try and occupy yourself with unpacking. You’re here for the indefinite future, so you might as well make yourself at home. 

You can’t help the dry laugh that comes at the thought. You don’t know if you’ve ever felt at home anywhere. 

This might be the worst thing about this whole situation. You’ve got a stalker out there, and it’s making you do all this bullshit introspection against your will. It’s got you thinking about your dad and your relationship with him, and thinking about Spencer Reid and how he’s replaced you in your father’s life without even really knowing about it because he didn’t know about you until he walked into your dad’s office a month ago.

Ten minutes pass in a blur before you’re knocked out of it by a rapping on your door. You turn to see Spencer standing in the doorway, expression unreadable.

“What?” you ask.

“You’ve been quiet,” he says. “I’m just checking in.”

“I’m still alive,” you say. “Nothing exciting happened in the five seconds I was gone.”

“It was ten minutes and thirty two seconds, actually,” he says. “But— but good.”

Again, more silence passes between you. You look up at him from your pile of clothes after thirty seconds. 

“Are you just going to stand there?”

“I— I don’t know what else to do,” he stammers.

“Didn’t you say you did something like this before?” you ask. “Guarded some girl from her stalker?”

Spencer nods. “She was a lot easier to get along with.”

You roll your eyes. “Somebody out there wants to kill me to get back at my dad. Sorry that I’m not the pinnacle of happiness.” You make a point to avoid his gaze. “But what I’m trying to say is that you’ve done this all before. You should have some kind of idea of what to do besides bothering me.”

“How am I bothering you?” Spencer asks in exasperation. “I’ve said three sentences to you!”

“Everything you do bothers me, boy genius,” you say. “I thought you would have figured that out by now.” 

“I—” He looks like he wants to say more, but instead he just clamps his mouth shut and shakes his head before he walks away. 

You stare down at your pile of clothes, largely unfolded and scattered around the bed. The silence doesn’t give you the satisfaction you thought it would. 

It only lasts for all of thirty seconds though, and you don’t have time to linger in the discomfort—you hear footsteps, heavier ones this time, and you look up to see Spencer round the corner once again. 

“What is your problem with me?” he blurts out. 

You frown. “Excuse me?” 

“You heard me,” Spencer nods. “You hate your dad, fine— but he’s not here for you to fight with, so you’re taking it out on me. It’s classic displacement, and you don’t get to take it out on me.”

“Why not?” you ask. 

“Because it— it’s not fair!” he sputters. “I didn’t do anything to you— I didn’t even know you existed until a month ago!” 

“Well, gosh, boy genius,” you say, “I’m sure you’re smart enough to figure it out yourself.”

“Stop calling me boy genius!” he exclaims. “We’re the same age!”

“Then stop acting like one,” you retort. “I know you’ve got a psychology degree, but you don’t need to use them on me whenever you can.” 

He frowns, his mouth opening for a second before he closes it. 

“Were you going to ask how I knew that before you realized the obvious answer?” you ask. 

“No,” he says. 

“Yes, you were.” You continue folding your clothes. “You went to Caltech, MIT, and Yale, even though it was your safety school. You’ve got three PhDs, two BAs, and you’re working on a philosophy degree, but you’re not done with it yet.” You shrug. “A little difficult to make it to classes with all the FBI stuff.” 

“…Does he really talk about me that much?” Spencer’s voice is quieter than it was before. 

“Oh, yeah,” you say. You set a finished pair of jeans to the side then look at him. “I graduated from college too. Granted, it was a couple years ago, not when I was 17, but I think it still warrants a little support.”

“You went to George Mason,” Spencer says. 

Your movements stutter. You weren’t expecting him to actually know.

“Yeah,” you say. Your heart skips a beat. “How do you know?”

Has he talked about you to the team before? Sure, they didn’t know you existed before you showed up out of the blue, but maybe he showed them a picture after it happened. Your mom carries one of you in your cap and gown in her wallet—maybe he got a hold of one and Spencer caught a glimpse of that. Maybe you just missed it and he does have a picture of you on his desk. Maybe—

“You have a sweatshirt for it,” he says with a gesture. You look where his finger is pointing, and sure enough, your GMU sweatshirt is tangled up with a couple of other crewnecks.

“…Of course,” you say. You don’t know why you even dared to hope. “Because it’s more likely that you’d notice something like that than it is for my dad to talk about me.”

Spencer says your name, and you hate the sympathy in it. 

“No.” You cut him off before he can get any further. “Don’t try to defend him. You know,” you huff a cold, humorless laugh, “he missed my graduation, too. Two separate dates for commencement and my actual school’s ceremony, one 45 minute car ride, and he couldn’t make it to either one.”

“You don’t know how busy we are,” Spencer tries again. “We work weekends and holidays and around the clock— sometimes we get called in at 3am to stay in some random town for weeks at a time, and there’s nothing we can do about it! I— I mean, we’ve had three days off in the past 47 days and—”

“That’s why I have a problem with you!” you cry out, throwing the shirt in your hand onto your bed as you turn to face him. “Because I’m twenty-four years old, and I’ve lived an hour away from my dad for the past six years, but his team that he spends all his time with didn’t even know I existed until I showed up at your office.” You take a step forward, anger resurging inside of you. “Because I threw away a chance at an Ivy to get to see him more, just to deal with the same bullshit as usual. Because I worry about him dying every single day he’s in the field, and he can’t even give me a phone call at the end of it all—” another step forward— “and even in the middle of this shitshow, you think you have a right to defend him— to- to tell me how to feel about him!”

You move even closer, close enough to see his wrinkled button-up is partially untucked, his lips are slightly parted, and his stupid doe eyes—that haven’t left yours—with his stupid dilated pupils, and you jab your finger in his chest. 

“Because all I ever wanted is my father’s affection,” your voice breaks, and you hate the way it makes you feel, “and he’d rather build an entirely new life with an entirely new kid than give it to me.” 

You push your way past him, making sure to shoulder-check him on your way out. You don’t look back as you forge your way to the bathroom (that you unfortunately have to share), even though his gaze burns into your back. 

You close and lock the door. It’s childish, you know, but you need to be alone right now. You can’t stand to be around him.

Spencer just— he irritates you in a way that no one else ever has. He’s your age and more accomplished than you could ever dream to be, with almost six times the degrees and a much better job, and probably a family that loves him. Who wouldn’t love him with everything he’s done?

You, apparently.  

You plant your hands on the countertop as you stare into the mirror. Your usual dark circles have become more pronounced over the past month, and you can’t help a wry laugh at the thought. All that trouble sleeping and it was for the wrong damn reason. 

If you knew someone was watching you, you would have moved out of Virginia months ago. But maybe this bastard would have found you anyway. If Spencer’s profiling is right and he’s going after you because of your dad, you don’t think much could really dissuade him. 

Tears pool at your waterline, and you wipe them away with a rough hand before they can manifest into something more. You slump back against the opposing wall as you continue to stare at yourself. 

You’re pathetic and you can’t even find it in yourself to care. 

You hear the sound of footsteps once more and you wrap your arms around your midsection. This chill won’t go away. 

“…Are you still alive?” a hesitant voice calls. 

You bite back a remark. “I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?” 

“No.” You don’t know what makes you answer honestly. 

A beat of silence passes. You really do feel like a kid. You’re talking to him through the door because you just yelled at him and Spencer is still being the bigger person. 

“Can I help at all?”

This answer comes a little quicker. “No.”

Again, more silence.

“Okay.” Spencer pauses, and the footsteps start again. His voice is a little closer the next time he speaks. “Just… let me know when you’re turning in. So I know you’re still alive.”

You huff. He can’t even stick to his guns and hate you like you hate him for ten minutes. “I don’t think I’ll be dying anytime soon.”

“You never know,” he says. “Spontaneous human combustion might not be proven beyond pseudoscientific concepts, but there’s a first time for everything.”

The laugh that comes out of you is unexpected, both in its lightness and occurrence at all. “Keep an ear out for the smoke alarm, then.”

“If you smell anything burning, stop, drop and roll,” he says. “Make sure you don’t run. All it’ll do is add to the oxygen and feed the fire.”

“Okay,” you say. “…I still don’t like you.”

You swear you can hear the smile in his words. “I know.” 

-

You wake up when the smoke alarm goes off. 

It’s a very rude awakening. It jolts you out of your very uneasy sleep to unfamiliar surroundings—in your disoriented state, you almost forget where you are. 

Right. You’re in a safe house in the middle of nowhere because someone is stalking you. How could you possibly forget?

You stumble out of bed, rubbing your eyes to try and assuage some of your exhaustion as you leave your room. 

“Is the place on fire?” you ask through a yawn. 

“No!” Spencer exclaims, sounding more panicked than usual. That straightens your back and speeds your pace. “No, everything’s fine—” 

You smell smoke, and as you come around the corner, you see him waving his hands overtop the toaster trying to dispel said smoke. You can’t help but laugh, and you actually smile when he gives you the most helpless look. 

“I’m so good at so many other things.”

“What are you trying to do?” you ask wryly. “Burn this house down to try and get a better one?” 

“This wouldn’t have started a fire,” Spencer says. “Toaster fires usually spread because they’re below wooden cupboards, which catch easily and spread everywhere else.” He gestures at the toaster, which he has plugged in to an outlet on the side of the island. “No cupboards, no house fire.”

“You started this because you were making toast?” you ask. 

He flushes. “I’m used to the toaster I have at home. I have the settings worked out perfectly there. This one is all wrong.” 

You sigh and shake your head. “Just… hit the reset button, and open the door. It’ll be fine.” 

“I can’t open the door,” he says. “It goes against the safety thing.”

“Then open a window.”

“Making it easier to get in here in any way goes against the safety thing,” he says. 

“So we have to just deal with the smoke?” you ask in exasperation. 

Spencer hits the vent button on the microwave, and the fan whirs into action. “No?”

You shake your head in disbelief as he then reaches up to hit the button on the smoke alarm. His t-shirt lifts with the movement—your eyes drift to the bare strip of skin, and you immediately look away when you realize. 

“Where’s the coffee in here?” you ask, clearing your throat as you start sifting through drawers. “I’ll be even worse to deal with if I don’t have caffeine.” 

“I already brewed a fresh pot,” Spencer says, gesturing with his head. “Half and half is in the fridge, and sugar is in the cabinet.” 

“Oh,” you say. You stop what you’re doing, your hands lingering above the drawer handle. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

You see him shrug out of your peripherals. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Because I was a total asshole to you last night, you want to say. Because I’ve been awful to you since I met you and you refuse to fight back and give me a better reason to hate you. 

“Because you didn’t need to,” you finally say. Good one. 

“I did. So you’re going to have to deal with it.” Spencer takes the burnt toast out and throws them in the trash can, talking while he does it. “You know, it’s actually a rumor that burnt toast contains carcinogens and can increase the chance of cancer. Acrylamide forms when you burn food, but researchers haven’t found a link between starchy foods with high amounts of acrylamide and cancer.” 

You hum in some form of acknowledgement as you take a mug out of the cabinet and fill it from the pot. You take a sip and grimace—it’s not the best, but it’s caffeinated. After three years of shitty gas station coffee throughout college, you can deal with it. 

“How did you sleep?” Spencer asks. 

“Fine,” you say. 

He frowns. “Really?” 

“Yes,” you say, a little rougher. “The dark circles come with the model.” 

“There are a lot of causes other than sleep deprivation,” Spencer says. “Contact dermatitis, hyperpigmentation, dehydration, alcoholism, stress—” 

“Got plenty of that,” you interrupt. 

“Even genetics can play a part in it,” he says. 

You huff. “I think this is one thing I can’t blame my dad for. I haven’t slept since the nineties.”

“Well, you should try,” Spencer says. “The blood vessels around your eyes don’t constrict like they should when you’re sleep deprived, which means your blood vessels dilate, which increases blood in the area, and that gives you dark circles.”

“Wow,” you say wryly. “I really look that bad with them?” 

“I— that—” Spencer’s face flushes red as he stutters, and you hide the slightest smile with your mug— “that’s not what I mean! I’m just trying to give advice to help—” 

“I know.” You set your mug back down, not able to fully bite back your amusement. “I was joking, Spencer.” 

“Oh,” he says. “That’s… new.” 

“Am I not allowed to joke?” 

“It just doesn’t seem like you,” Spencer says. “Especially after last night.” 

“I’m too tired to fight with you right now,” you sigh. “Enjoy your break.” 

He clears his throat as he takes two fresh pieces of bread out, then looks at your mug. “You drink it black?” 

“It’s not coffee if you don’t,” you say. “It— it’s a sugary mess.” 

“It is not!” he exclaims. “It still has the same amount of caffeine, and it’s still coffee—” 

“No it isn’t!” you laugh, and you nod at his mug. “How much sugar did you put in there?” 

“A couple spoonfuls but—” 

“Spoonfuls?”

“But it’s how I like it!” Spencer defends. 

“Don’t you have some facts about how harmful excessive sugar consumption is?” you ask. 

“Of course I do,” he says. “I also have some about the benefits of black coffee, but I’m not going to tell you now.”

“Wow,” you say. “I’m so hurt.” 

He shakes his head as he slots two more pieces of bread into the toaster. “And to think, I was trying to make breakfast for you.” 

Again, that gives you pause. Why does he keep trying to do nice things for you?” 

“Don’t bother.” You pick up your mug and go into the living room. “I don’t really eat breakfast anyways.” 

“That’s not healthy,” he calls after you. 

“Most things I do aren’t,” you respond. “What’s on the agenda today?” 

“Skipping breakfast puts you at a higher chance of heart disease,” he says. 

“Then I guess we won’t have to worry about the spontaneous combustion, will we?” You look back at him. “What’s on the agenda?” 

Spencer sighs. He’s given up momentarily, it seems. “Gideon’s going to call me in thirty-two minutes for an update. The whole team has been focusing solely on your case.” 

You perk up. The coffee warms your hands through the mug but it doesn’t fully assuage the chill down your spine. 

“Do they have any leads?” 

“I don’t know,” Spencer says. “Gideon hasn’t called me yet.” 

You roll your eyes. “Do you think they have any leads?” 

“Maybe.” The toaster pops and he pulls the bread out, then starts buttering it—or trying to. His brow knots in annoyance at the stick of butter, still hard, and he pushes his glasses up with his free hand. You have to look away. “Like I said, Gideon helped start the BAU. He’s solved more cases than anyone else, and,” you feel his eyes on you, “it’s personal this time. He’s probably working around the clock.” 

“Just have to hope they get somewhere,” you murmur. Your coffee tastes even more bitter than  usual, but you drink it anyway. 

“They will,” Spencer says. “I promise.” 

“Y’know, people keep making promises they can’t keep,” you say. “I’m getting real tired of it.” 

“Well, I’m not leaving your side until they do,” he says. “And I’m going to keep you safe. So consider that promise kept.” 

“Great,” you say. “I’m stuck with you until I die or this is solved.” 

“You’re not going to die.” 

“You don’t have to take everything I say so seriously.” 

“Then don’t say everything so seriously.” 

You huff a laugh and shake your head. Spencer comes over with his plate of messily buttered toast—not very easy with fully solid sticks of butter—and sits down across from you. He holds the plate out. 

“Want one?” 

“I told you, I don’t eat breakfast.” 

“You should.” 

“Because one piece of toast will make so much of a difference,” you mock. 

“It will,” he says. “Maybe it’ll even make you happier.” 

You roll your eyes and drink more of your coffee. “Are you going to bother me all day like this?” 

Spencer took a bite of toast then shrugged. “If you’re this blase about everything relating to your health, then yes.” 

You groan as you stand up. “It’s too early to deal with you. See you in a few hours.” 

“And good morning to you too,” Spencer says wryly. You make a parting gesture with your hand in response. 

It’s been a day and a half, and not only have you argued with him twice, but he still refuses to give you anything to work with, still insists on trying to be there for you. It’s as infuriating as it is gratingly admirable. Anyone else probably would have tried to kill you by now. 

Well, you’ve already got a stalker trying to do that. 

You sigh and down half your coffee. You’ve got a long day ahead of you. 

-

Spencer doesn’t know why you not liking him bothers him so much. 

It’s illogical, but it makes sense for you. Your dad spends more time with him than he does with you, and you’re projecting your hatred for Gideon onto Spencer. Whatever. 

But it’s not just whatever, and that irks him. 

This is an assignment, simple as that. Gideon trusted him enough to put you under his protection, even if it’s for your mental health more so than your physical. It should be a point of pride, being chosen for something like this by someone like Gideon.

Spencer presses his fingers against his temple. You’re a lot, there’s no way around it. But you also claim to hate him, and he knows that’s not true. 

Yes, you argue with him. Yes, you’re short with him. Yes, he lost his temper momentarily because not even Spencer is capable of endless grace. 

But he also sees your moments of lightness throughout it all. Your brief smiles, the quips that lean towards jokes more than insults—and he notices your eyes, and the brightness that breaks through on occasion. 

He always notices your eyes.

Spencer’s phone rings in his pocket, jolting him out of whatever reverie he found himself in. He pulls it out and flips it open, then presses it to his ear. “Gideon?” 

“Reid,” he greets. “How are you doing?”

“Fine,” he says. “You’re calling twenty-four minutes early.”

“We just finished a briefing,” Gideon says. “I wanted to get word to you as soon as possible.” 

Spencer sits up. “What is it?” 

“Morgan, Hotch, and Garcia have been working together to comb through my past cases and see what they’re up to now. They finally found a potential unsub,” he says. “Someone I put away a decade ago was released last year, and recent records indicate he’s back in the area.” 

“Who is it?” he asks. 

“Adam Hernandez. Also known as—” 

“The Stafford Strangler,” Spencer finishes. “He killed three people in two weeks in the 90s—classic spree killer. You caught him with David Rossi’s help.” 

“Released on good behavior, despite the victims’ families campaigning against it,” Gideon says. “You know it?” 

“Obviously,” he says. “I’ve read all of your old case files.”

Gideon chuckles, and he can almost imagine him shaking his head. “Of course you have.”

“Do you think Hernandez is your guy?” Spencer asks. 

“I’m not sure yet,” Gideon says. “We applied for a warrant—as soon as we get it, Morgan and Elle are heading his way to ask a few questions.” 

“You think he’d do something like this?” Spencer shifts his position as he frowns. “Hernandez got fired, lost his house, then went off the deep end. He killed because he didn’t see any other solution. The guy going after your daughter is a lot more emotional about all this, and—” his throat feels dry all of a sudden— “and it’s like he’s got some kind of attraction to her.” 

“You don’t need to remind me,” Gideon says roughly. “We’re going for leads where we can, and we’re still working every other angle. It doesn’t end with Hernandez.”

“...Good,” Spencer says. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help from here.” 

“You’re already doing everything I need you to do.” Gideon pauses, and he hears the creak of the chair in his office as he adjusts how he’s sitting. “How is my daughter doing?” 

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “Her mood changes with the wind. One second she’s trying to start a fight with me, the next she’s trying to joke around with me. It— it’s a lot, I won’t lie.” 

“But how is she handling all of this?” he asks. “Staying in the safe house, dealing with a stalker, feeling like a sitting duck.”

“Very cynically,” Spencer says. “She keeps talking about dying or getting killed.”

Gideon sighs. “That sounds like her.” 

“She’s… she’s mad at you, mostly.” Spencer picks at a hangnail, ignoring the sharp, temporary pain. “Every time I bring you up, it lights a fuse. You’re the one thing she hates to talk about.” 

There’s nothing but silence on the other end. 

“Gideon?” he asks. “Did I lose—” 

“I’m here,” he interrupts. “Just… thinking.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Spencer says. “She’s—” 

“It is my fault,” Gideon interrupts again. “Has she told you much about her younger life?” 

“...Some,” Spencer says. 

“Like?” 

Spencer doesn’t really know what to say. He doesn’t want to just tell Gideon that you’ve told him he’s been an awful dad. That it’s really all you’ve told him. 

“You can say it, Reid,” Gideon says. “I won’t get mad.” 

“...She says you’ve missed out on her whole life,” Spencer finally says, notably quieter. “Her high school graduation, her college graduation— most of the stuff that happened in college, actually.” 

Gideon lets out a rough sigh. “I’ll always regret it.” 

“So it’s true?” Spencer asks. He’s surprised at the sharpness of his voice.  

“I don’t get to control when cases come in,” he says. 

“We’re a whole team of qualified agents,” Spencer says. “We— we always have been. Especially when you and Rossi were together. It was like the golden age of profilers.” 

“Spencer—” 

“You made it to my graduation!” he interrupts. “You were there for my chemistry PhD, and you said you would be there when I get my philosophy degree, but you couldn’t make it for your only child’s high school and college graduations?” 

“I already told you I regret it,” Gideon says. His voice is as calm as ever, and for some reason, that irks Spencer even more. “What more can I say? It’s in the past now. I can’t change what I did.”

Spencer stares at the wall. He doesn’t know why this is such a damning thing to him. 

His own dad has missed all of his graduations. He’s missed almost every part of his life. But his dad walked out—he wanted nothing to do with Spencer or his mom. 

Your dad is right here. Gideon is still around, working every day to save lives and change the world and take down monsters—but he’s still not there for you. 

He’s so close and yet he always steps out of your reach. 

“Spencer.” Gideon’s voice is tinny through the speaker, and he presses his phone back against his ear. 

“Call me back the second you get another lead,” Spencer mutters. 

He hangs up without another word. 

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

help me forget. l Joel Miller

Summary: you broke down and Joel was the only one who could help you

Warnings:  +18, smut, angst, unprotected sex, two dead bodies, mention of blood, Reader has a crisis, Ellie is in it

A/N: did i add something again? i have another exam on saturday and i'm going through a crisis. sorry for the mistakes, i wanted to write it and add it today.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

"I'm sure everything's fine. Something just had to stop them."

Joel tore his eyes from the horizon and looked at Ellie, her fingers gripping the railing, her eyes fixed on the distance.

"Yeah, you're probably right." he replied, trying to keep his voice casual.

He didn't want to show her that he was already nervous. Something was tightening painfully in his gut, you should have been back by now.

He didn't like the idea, but you quickly calmed his thoughts. Tommy, Shane, you and a few other men were going on a three-day trip to a nearby town. Supplies needed to be replenished, and the growing school in Jackson would be happy to accept new equipment. 

If Joel had been nervous up until now, he was like a ticking bomb now. Ellie could see he was worried, she felt the same. The whole group should have been back in the morning, it was getting late and there was no sign of you.

"Go home, kid." he muttered "I'll let you know when they get back."

"No way!" Ellie got offended "I'm going to give her a hard time when she finally shows up."

They fell silent again, staring at the spot where the familiar car should have appeared. Minutes passed, the sun was setting, until finally Ellie shouted "They're coming!" and Joel's heart began to beat faster. 

However, when he finally breathed a sigh of relief, he noticed something disturbing in the approaching vehicle. Something bad had happened...

The gate opened and the entire group entered Jackson. Maria stood by Joel, looking out for his brother, soon her face lit up.

"Tommy! Thank God!" she cried, throwing herself into the arms of the man who got out of the car.

He hugged her tightly, but it was Joel who caught his eye. The lump in his throat grew painfully. His gaze swept over the group, searching for a familiar face, the one he was so worried about, the one he needed to see alive.

"We met another group." Tommy said. "We lost two people..."

Joel's legs almost buckled. But he didn't have time to say anything, not even take a breath when another car door opened and he finally saw you. In a few quick steps he was already by your side, strong arms hugging you to his chest. Only when he let go of you did he notice the already dried cut above your eyebrow, some scratch on your cheek, but you were alive.

But something was wrong. Joel sensed it immediately. Your gaze... Something changed in your eyes.

"What happened? Who did we lose?" Maria asked.

Tommy gave two names and everyone fell silent for a moment. Ellie took advantage of this moment to run up to you and hug you tightly.

"You look terrible." she said "But I'm glad you decided to come back."

"I'm fine..." you replied quietly, stroking her hair "I have something for you." you pulled something out of your belt, which turned out to be a comic book in pretty good shape.

"Oh! Cool!"

Joel noticed his brother's gaze, he clearly wanted to say something, but then he looked at you and seemed a bit confused. He understood him.

"Ellie, take her to the clinic. Let someone see her." he said.

"I'm fine." you replied, but Ellie had already grabbed your hand.

"Come on, you'll tell me everything." she said, pulling you towards the clinic building. Only when you were gone did Tommy finally speak up.

"Six, maybe seven men. We ran into them when we were about to leave the city."

"Riders?" Maria asked.

Tommy shrugged. "Possibly. We'll never know. They started shooting at the car, they wanted to scare us first."

"I hit some wreck." Shane walked up to them, he also had a few scratches on his face, but he was fine, he looked at Joel "I hit it pretty hard. That's how she cut her forehead."

Joel nodded. The cut was a small payment for bringing you back alive.

"We got into a fight. It was really bad." Tommy continued, and Maria folded her arms tighter over her chest "I don't know when we lost our men. It all happened so fast..."

"No one blames you, Tommy." Joel spoke up. His brother looked at him sadly.

"One of them surprised me. We fell to the ground, struggling. I thought..." he took a deep breath "I thought I wouldn't come back."

"I took out two of them before I saw what was happening." Shane continued for him, and then your name tumbled from his lips. "Her gun jammed. One of the guys hit her, but she managed somehow. Then she saw Tommy." 

Joel felt his brother wanted to tell him something, something that wasn't very nice.

"She got to me before Shane. It was a second or two." He looked at Maria "She saved my life. If it wasn't for her... That guy had no chance..."

Maria sighed and took her husband in her arms trying to hide her tears.

Shane leaned slightly towards Joel and added quietly "Listen, talk to her. She's barely spoken since then."

"What happened?" Joel asked, feeling his voice tremble.

Walsh sighed. "He got hit in the ribs and in the neck. A few times. But she... Shit, I had to get her off him."

A familiar image appeared before Joel's eyes, he knew what Shane was talking about, he had seen you like this before. That was the moment when you defended Ellie and yourself. He looked towards the clinic with concern.

"Thanks, Shane." He said. "Thanks for taking care of her."

"No problem, man."

Warm steam was coming out of the bathroom, pleasantly warming the bedroom. It was quite late. Ellie hid in her room, engrossed in the comic book you brought her. You, on the other hand, had already taken a shower and, dressed in clean clothes, were combing your still damp hair.

"You must be tired as hell." Joel put a mug of tea on your nightstand.

"Mhm..."

You didn't say much and you barely ate dinner, which worried him, but he thought that maybe once you went to bed you'd feel better. Joel took a quick shower and when he came back to the room he saw that you were already lying under the covers.

Tiredness must have won, because your breathing was already steady and calm. The bed creaked quietly as Joel lay down behind you, hugged you and snuggled into your back, kissing your shoulder. Tomorrow will be a new day. He would talk to you, and you would feel better. For sure.

You weren't in his arms. The space next to him was empty and cold. Joel rubbed his eyes and looked around the dark room. Only after a moment did he notice the faint light coming from under the closed bathroom door. He hesitantly got out of bed and went to the bathroom.

"Baby, are you okay?" he asked in a hoarse voice, knocking quietly.

Nothing. Silence. A cold shiver ran down his spine. He knocked again.

"Are you there? Can I come in?"

Something hit the floor and rolled across it. Joel no longer hesitated, grabbed the handle and pushed the door open. You were sitting against the wall with your knees pulled up to your chest, your eyes puffy from tears. You had to try to get up, but you clumsily threw the cup with toothbrushes on the floor and it was the one that made the noise.

"Sweetheart..."

He quickly knelt down next to you, took your face in his hands. Your cheeks were wet from tears, single strands of hair stuck to your face.

"How long have you been here? Come back with me, honey..."

"I-I can't come back...." your voice was shaking. Joel didn't understand what you said. His heart was breaking when he looked at you like that. "I can't, I can't Joel."

"Of course you can. I'll help you, you know that. You're not alone in this."

Your eyes were glazed with tears, you took a breath through trembling lips. "I did it again... Again. When I saw this guy on Tommy, he wanted to kill him, and I..."

"And you saved him." Joel interrupted you. "You saved Tommy. You saved my brother's life."

"You didn't see it! There was so much blood everywhere..."

"But I see you! And I know you. You did what you had to."

You stared at him with pity. Joel didn't understand anything. He wasn't there with you, he wasn't you. That moment when you lost control, when you acted on instinct, when your dark side took over, and the knife you had in your hand entered the body of that man smoothly. You woke up feeling like you could feel his warm blood on your hands again. Your heart was beating like crazy.

"I'm not safe, Joel. I'm not safe for you and Ellie." your voice became automatic, as if you were saying a memorized line "What if I do the same to you? I snapped! I snapped and lost control and..."

"You were saving Tommy, for God's sake!" strong hands grabbed your shoulders and Joel gently shook you to come to your senses "When I met you, you were already protecting Ellie. I know you would never hurt her, or me. It's this world, it's brought it all out in you, but it's not the real you."

"Bullshit..."

"Believe me, I'd like to take it all away from you, carry it for you. But I can't. The only thing I can do is be with you, take care of you, love you and..." he stopped as his brain realized what words had left his mouth. He had never said that before. 

God! He couldn't remember the last time he told someone he loved them, maybe in his previous life. He had always been hopeless with feelings, he couldn't name them like some people, but that didn't mean he didn't feel them. His body was full of emotions, and you had added a few more that he could barely handle. And now you were staring at him with a mixture of fear and not understanding a word he had said. 

Joel took a deep breath. "I love you." He repeated. "I have loved you for a long time. I should have told you before, not now that you... Fuck." another precious breath. "I love you. And I know what you are. What your head says isn't true, that's not the real you. You shield and protect, baby. You care for others, you love and support. You saved Ellie, me and my brother. You protect our family."

Your brain must have analyzed his words for a long moment, because you were staring at him completely stunned. Only after a long moment of silence did you speak. "You can't love me, Joel. You're wrong..."

He closed his eyes for a moment and sighed, smiling. "If I'm truly certain of anything in life, it's what I feel, sweetheart."

"But-"

"There's no 'but' here. I know perfectly well what I am, but I also know what I've become since you've been with me. And I care about you, so please, come back to bed with me."

His words must have finally reached you, because you gave in to him and got up from the floor. Joel led you back to the bed, and after a moment you were lying in his arms again. The warmth emanating from his body was pleasant, you felt safe and good. His fingers gently stroked your shoulder, and his chest rose with a steady breath. Hundreds of thoughts were racing through your head.

"Will you help me forget?"

"What?" he asked, a little surprised by your quiet question.

"Help me forget, please, Joel. I know you can..."

So he did what you asked him to do. He slowly took off your shirt, kissing every inch of exposed skin tenderly. He felt under his fingers the scar you had on your side, he kissed that place too. The panties you were wearing also landed on the floor. You clumsily reached for the edge of his shirt. 

Joel's broad shoulders and chest were something you adored, but at that moment he didn't give you time to admire him. His lips found yours, kissing you tenderly, his tongue slipped inside and you tangled your fingers in his hair. The next thoughts flew out of your head, one after another. 

The tenderness with which he touched and caressed you was extraordinary, and at the same time delicate. If you hadn't asked him to help you forget, he would probably have given himself more time, but in that case you couldn't wait. He spread your thighs with his knee and settled between them.

"I don't want it to hurt..."

"It won't. And even if it does, I don't care."

You took his cock at the base, stroked it and rubbed the head against your entrance a few times. Joel closed his eyes, sighing quietly. With one, not even strong, movement of his hips, he pushed the tip into you, and you closed your eyelids. Warm walls wrapped around him tightly as he went deeper and deeper. Until the very end. Delicate hands stroked his shoulders as he tried to get used to this feeling. You had made love so many times, but every time Joel felt delight when he entered you.

Finally, he lifted himself up on his forearms and looked at your face, the face he loved so much, the face he was afraid to lose.

"I love you so fucking much." he said quietly.

You smiled. "I love you too, more than you can imagine."

He started moving. One thrust after another, your quiet moans filled his ears, your nails dug into his shoulders and back. But Joel didn't stop, if you wanted to forget he wanted to help you with that. 

And he didn't stop until you fell apart in his arms, until you arched in the pleasure he gave you. Every shiver you made, every sigh - it all felt like a declaration of love. Love you were a symbol of.

And when you fell asleep exhausted in his arms, he stroked your soft skin for a while longer, kissed your forehead, drew from your warm body. He repeated to himself that no matter what happened he would do everything to keep you safe, because he couldn't lose another loved one. And you were his whole life.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again

[loversrocktvgirl2]

my mini multiverse of madness…

New Friend (Bob Reynolds x Reader)

word count: 1.3k+

part 1 of ?

masterlist

“C’mon, Bob, I think you would do well to meet someone,” Yelena says. The two are sitting on the couch as she pets her guinea pig. Bob sits criss cross applesauce besides her, his mulch brown hair getting in his eye. “I like hanging out with you, but sometimes we have to go fight and I think it would be nice for you to make another friend. Meet a girl, maybe.”

Bob nods. “Where do I meet people though?”

Yelena shrugs. “I don’t know. Grocery store. Group therapy.”

“Yes, Bob, you should make friend,” Alexei says, taking a gigantic sip of his coffee. It almost looks more like he’s chugging it. 

“That’s…that’s your fourth cup this morning,” Bob says. “I have to make a new one for everyone else.”

“It’s okay, Bob, I’ll get it,” Alexei brushes him off. “Just make double next morning.”

“I…is that even how that works?” Bob asks.

“I don’t know. I’ll buy you another coffee maker,” Yelena says. “Anyway, fair point. You should go out places, make some more friends. I’ll go with you! We can get ice cream after, okay?”

Bob nods. “Yeah, okay.” 

Yelena decides to take Bob out to sign up for a book club run at their local bookstore. “They are just starting a new book today, we’ll go and get the book and you read it and go back to talk about it, okay?” Yelena says. Bob nods and follows her. Yelena walks up to the lady at the front desk. “Hello, he would like to join your book talking club.”

“Okay,” the woman at the desk nods. “What’s your name, sir?”

“Bob,” Bob says with a smile. 

“Wonderful. Do you have a last name?” the woman asks. 

“Reynolds.”

The woman types on her computer. “And where is a good phone number for us to reach you?”

Bob turns to Yelena who says, “we got you a phone, Bob. You have to memorize the number soon.” She gives the woman the number, and she writes it down. 

“Fantastic. We’ve got you all set up. Would you like to purchase the book for this month’s first meeting?” The woman asks. 

Confused by her wording, Bob turns to Yelena, who is also confused, and turns to the woman. 

“We read a book every two weeks,” the woman explains. “So we meet biweekly.”

“Ah. Yes. We would like to buy the book,” Yelena says. 

The woman pulls out a copy from under her desk of The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo and scans the book. “$15.67 is your total,” she smiles. 

Bob pulls out his debit card and the woman charges the book to it. 

“Would you like a bag?” she asks. “I can either give you a plastic one, or you can become a rewards member and get this reusable one for free.” 

“Um…” Bob trails off. 

“Rewards member,” Yelena says. “No plastic. Save the turtles.”  

Bob nods and he gets himself signed up to become a rewards member. Yelena takes him back home at the next day, while the New Avengers are off working, Bob decides to sit down and start his new book. It’s two weeks before the meeting, so he has plenty of time to finish it. He’s done the dishes and mopped the floors, and he’d like to sit down now. So he begins his book.

Bob LOVES it. He’s completely consumed by it. He finishes the book in two days. Yelena says, “Well, when I said make a friend, I was not expecting it to be the book, but this is… I think a start.” 

Bob goes back to the bookstore with Alexei to get some more books. And he starts getting very excited about his book club meet. 

Finally, the day comes, and Bucky and Yelena drive him to the bookstore and drop him off. “What time does this end again?” Bucky asks. 

“Four, I told you already,” Yelena chastens Bucky. 

“Sorry,” Bucky replies. 

“You know, I think now, as you are getting older, some things aren’t working quite as they used to, maybe we should take you to the doctor and you get hearing checked…?” Yelena suggests.

“Very funny,” Bucky says. “Alright, Bob, we’ll be back at four, okay?”

Bob gives him a thumbs up and gets out of the car. 

“Have a good time! Meet people!” Yelena calls. 

“You think he’ll be okay?” Bucky asks. “He’s been kind of hurt a lot.”

“Oh, yes,” Yelena says. “This is good for him. Overcoming fears, y’know?”

Bob heads into the bookstore hopeful and he finds a circle of chairs in the back corner room. He sits down tentatively, The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo on his lap. He holds onto it for support. There’s a few people already sitting, most of them holding their own copies of The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, waiting for everyone to arrive to discuss the book. 

“Oh, hey, Tiffany, I haven’t seen you in a while,” a woman greets as she sits down in a chair. 

“Yeah! I’ve really missed these meetings, but I’ve been busier, what with the baby and all,” another woman, who Bob can only assume is Tiffany, replies. 

“What’s your name? I don’t believe I’ve met you,” the woman says to Bob.

“Oh, I’m, uh, Bob,” Bob informs.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you! I hope you like it here. It’s one of the highlights of the month for me, I can tell you that much,” the woman says with a chuckle.

Then someone else enters the room. You. You’re pretty, the kind of relaxed pretty, not glistening like a diamond under lights like a movie star, but that comforting, wonderful, beautiful normal pretty. And Bob notices you when you come in. 

“Heyyy!” Tiffany waves at you happily. You wave back. 

“This is Bob, it’s his first meeting,” the woman explains to you. 

“Great to meet you, Bob,” you smile. He can’t help but smile back. 

You tell him your name and he nods and says, “That suits you, I like it.” 

You sit across from him and once everyone arrives, the discussion begins. Then, it’s your turn to talk. Bob finds himself straightening up in his seat a little. “I thought that The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo is one of those rare books that blends Hollywood glamour with genuine emotional depth. On the surface, it’s about a dazzling, scandalous life—seven marriages, fame, fortune—but at its core, it’s a story about identity, love, and the cost of ambition. Evelyn is a brilliant character: flawed, cunning, fiercely self-aware, and unapologetically complex. She manipulates the media and people around her to survive in a system built to exploit women, especially queer women and women of color. And yet, she’s not a hero or a villain—just deeply…human,” you say. 

Bob is a little too stunned for words. You’ve perfectly worded his thoughts on the book and he’s amazed by it. Okay, you hold his interest even more than you did previously. At the end of the two hour club, Bob walks up to you. “Hi,” he says, a little shyly.

You smile. “Hi,” you reply. 

“I really liked what you had to say about the book.”

“Thank you! I thought you contributed a lot, too.”

“Thanks…are you going to come to the next meeting?”

“Yes! You?”

“Definitely,” Bob nods and smiles. “Could I, uh, maybe… have your phone number?”

You grin. “Of course! Do you have your phone? I can put in the contact.”

“Yeah…!” 

When Bucky and Yelena see Bob come out of the bookstore at 4:08, Yelena grins at him. “Did you make a friend?”

“I think so, yeah,” Bob answers with a smile as he climbs in the car. 

“Did you get their phone number?” Yelena asks. 

Bob nods. 

“Yayyyy, Bob!” Yelena cheers and claps. Bucky chuckles a little at her excitement, but he gives Bob a smile and a nod of approval, a silent I’m proud of you, kid. Bob smiles and leans back into his seat as the car pulls away from the bookstore. 

taglist

@spaceycat @vidanand @xo-cench @raikan624 @yeehawgiddyup13

[fallingfor-fics]

Meetings in Secret- Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Pairing: Step-Aunt Melissa x Step-Niece Reader (not blood relatives!!)

Word count: 11.6k DAMN this a whole book, if it does well i may make a part two

Warnings: fooling around with your step-moms sister, mild smut, fingering, grinding, some angst, drug and alcohol usage

Summary: You are 21 in college and meet Melissa at a family party and continue to run into her. You fall into a loop with her and she keeps dissapearing.

this was def not based on true events

Friday nights were always your favorite since you started college, and now you are freshly twenty-one meaning you prepare yourself all week for Friday nights. You and your friends would go out, have a blast, come home, and crash. Then you would do it again the next weekend. They were almost sacred nights now. So when you got a call from your step-mom saying her son's graduation party was on friday, you held in a displeased groan. Of course you said you would be there and dreaded the event. You did your hair and makeup, leaving your hair down and light makeup since it was mainly outdoors. You wore a simple skirt with a nice tank top and headed home just as it was about to hit seven. 

When you arrived you took a deep breath and grabbed the card you got for your step-brother then headed inside. You could hear the music as soon as you got out of your car and your eyes went wide. There were a ton of cars parked in the front of the house and you heard the roar of chatter. Wafts of barbeque and beer came your way as you walked into the kitchen. 

“Oh Y/n! I'm so glad you made it!” Your step-mom, Mary, said with a smile and came to give you a hug. “Your father is outside on the grill and Jude is outside with his friends.” she went back to cooking and you nodded.

“It smells great in here, what time did everyone get here? Sorry I'm a little late.” 

“Oh it's fine people started arriving at five but they’ll be here all night.” she laughed. You looked out the window to see tables set up under canopies, with lights dangling all around, a balloon arch graced a window, and there was a large speaker playing music. Your jaw opened slightly, they didn't even go this big for your high school graduation. You turned back to Mary with a smile.

“That's a lot of people.” 

“Yeah so we are trying to keep the inside off limits, unless it's for the restrooms.” she quipped in response as she bounced around the kitchen. You went outside and said hi to your dad before going to congratulate Jude. 

“I got this card for you, Congratulations!” You said with a smile and he gave you a hug. 

“Thanks Y/n.”

“Your mom really went all out.” you laughed and he nodded.

“Yeah I don't even remember some of these people, but hey mom’s letting me have a few beers so I can't complain.” You laughed before heading back inside to see if Mary needed any help. 

After a couple more hours, people were dancing and mingling like crazy, drinks were flowing and people were either gossiping at tables or dancing by the speaker. You had to admit you were having a pretty good time, you had been hanging around your dad or just chilling by yourself for most of the night, but you were enjoying the people watching, and the juicy rumors people were chatting up. Your step mom called everyone in for a shot and your head started to hurt from the thought of that many people in the kitchen. You had also managed to avoid any introductions and didn't want that to change. You felt better with the drinks you had in your system and had already done a shot or two with Jude when no one was looking. Only the people that actually wanted a shot came inside, thank god, and you stood outside of the circle of people around the kitchen island where your stepmom was pouring the shots in these tiny plastic cups. Your dad yelled a salud to Jude and everyone cheered as they downed their shots. After that most people went back outside but a few hung around for another. When most cleared out of the way, through slightly fuzzy vision you saw a woman standing at the counter, red hair draped across her shoulders in smooth curls, and eyes that sparkled in the dim lighting. An angel- you thought to yourself. You looked away when you realized you had been staring and went to pour yourself another shot.

‘Oh do you want a glass of wine or a cocktail instead?” Mary asked from the sink and you shook your head. 

“Nah thats okay im good with this and the beer selection isn't bad.” you said politely and she laughed, clearly more tickled due to her wine buzz she had going on. You took another shot and figured that was enough for now and went to the bathroom. As you were coming out you ran into your other step-brother, Anthony, who was older than you by a few years. 

“Oh hey how’s it going?” you asked and he nodded. 

“Not bad just got here. I was actually looking for you, you know I owe you for that time we smoked here fourth of july so I brought some stuff if you wanna come to my car?” he asked in a hushed tone and you looked around. 

“Your mom still doesn't know you smoke? I don't think she will care. I mean Jude is shitfaced right now.” you said surprised and he shrugged. 

“I guess. Come on I dont wanna risk it with the nosey neighbors and we are already being hella loud.” he pleaded and you nodded. You walked to his car, his cousin joining as well. He was parked under a tree and you got in the passenger seat, grabbing the lighter from the door and handing it to him. He gave you the joint to start up and you did, passing it to him as you looked out the window. 

“So what happened with you and that girl you were seeing? The crazy one with the boyfriend?” you asked Anthony as his cousin nodded and handed you the joint from the back seat.

“Yeah, you're still seeing that girl?” she asked, leaning forward and he shook his head. 

“Nah I ended that, I didnt wanna mess with that situation anymore.” he replied and you took a drag before handing it to him. 

“What about you Y/n? You got a man?” his cousin, Ariel, spoke from the back and you laughed, 

“No, I'm focusing on school right now.” you smiled and they nodded. You stayed and talked with them a while longer before you guys decided to head back to the party. You sprayed yourself with perfume and washed your hands when you got inside and paused to look at your reflection. You had a good crossfade going and started laughing as you thought of the fact you were going to have to spend the night now. You rolled your eyes before heading back to the kitchen.

Soon it was just you, Mary, another woman that was rather gorgeous but slightly older than Mary, and Ariel. 

You smiled as you sipped on some water and talked with Ariel, your back to the patio door. You heard it open and didn't think anything of it until you felt someone come and stand next to you, her arm pushing into yours as she rested her hands on the counter. 

“Hey Mary, can you make me another drink?” she asked with a cute smile that made your heart stop for a second. Okay maybe it was also the substances in your system but you caught your breath and turned back to Ariel. 

“It's the angel.” you whispered to yourself.

“Hey Melissa, can you make it yourself?” she chirped and you raised your eyebrows. Mary saw and laughed, causing Melissa to turn and look at you. Her smile softened at the sight of you and she stood up straight, looking over your appearance. 

“And who is this beautiful young woman?” Melissa asked and you hesitated to speak, the wave of nerves almost suffocating you. 

“That's Y/n, Christopher's daughter. You met at the wedding but Y/n is always away at school for any of the parties we have here.” Mary answered as she started to make Melissa’s drink. “Y/n this is my younger sister, Melissa.” you nodded now vaguely remembering her. Your dad and Mary got married right before you left for college so you didn't see much of her family.

“Oh I didn't even recognize you, you have changed so much.” Melissa said with a smile and you weren't quite sure if that was a good thing or not. 

“Well I grew my hair longer and stopped dying it. I also cooled it with heavy makeup.” You rambled, the drinks in you allowing your tongue to roll words right off it at a rather impressive speed, for your current state at least.

“I see. You have such beautiful hair sweetheart.” she said with excitement in her voice clearly a result from some drinks. She moved her hand to run her fingers through the ends, her fingers grazing your back through it. You felt a chill travel up your spine and your cheeks grew hot. 

“Thank you, but you have the most beautiful hair I have ever seen.” you said softly and she smiled. 

“Awe thanks hon.” she rubbed your back then grabbed her drink from Mary. “Are you coming with us girls to go shopping tomorrow?” she asked and Mary looked up with a smile. 

“Oh yeah Y/n I wanted to ask you but I got so busy cooking. We would love to have you. We are just going to hit up some shops in town.” Your step mom said sincerely as she took a sip of her wine. You felt Melissa looking at you and you met her glance for a second. Her eyes were firm yet dazzling. You felt as if she was challenging you, but not threatening, rather observing your response and demeanor. You nodded with a smile and Mary cheered and Melissa's satin lips curved into a cocky smile. 

--

The next day you got up early to shower and get dressed, you wore denim shorts and a baby tee with sneakers and did some light makeup. You had slept in your room that was right across from the guest room, which you learned Melissa was staying in and you struggled to sleep with that fact circling in your head. This encourages you to wake up and get ready though. Because now you had a reason to get put together before you were seen by her in your pajamas with your hair a mess. 

You step out of your room and see Melissa sitting in the kitchen, her back to you and Mary sat next to her with a cup of coffee. You took a breath and walked up to them with a smile. 

“Good morning.” You said to them as you got a cup of water. 

“Morning sweetie.” Mary chirped, Melissa looked up at you with a smile and muttered a greeting before going back to her phone. 

It wasn't until you all went to load into the car that you realized you were a seat short. You offered to ride in the trunk but Mary refused. 

“I think we can all fit if we squeeze.” Ariel muttered and you sighed. Melissa turned to you with a smile. 

“You can sit on my lap if you need to hon.” she said casually in her rough and seductive voice. Your cheeks grew hot and it took every muscle of restraint to decline the offer. I mean you had to give yourself a pat on the fucking back at the willpower you had to say no to this. You knew it wasn't right to say yes since she was just offering to be nice and you respected her too much. You shook your head and laughed. 

“Um I'll just take my car, and follow you up.” you said moving to grab your keys. 

“Oh ok thanks for doing that.” Mary said and you nodded, “Go with her, Melissa, so she's not alone and so we all fit comfortably.” Mary ordered, gesturing to Melissa to walk to your car.

“Is that okay with you?” she asked and you nodded in shock. She walked up to you and grabbed the keys from your hand. You allowed her, not saying anything and just smiling. “I'll drive if that's ok.”

“Go right ahead.” you said and you walked to the passenger side. The car ride went fast, Melissa asking you about school, and you asking her about work. You learned she taught at an elementary school and that thought only fueled the butterflies. She said what you were studying was cool and that also made you blush a bit. You knew you couldn't keep thinking this, but it was hard. She was very affectionate, I mean they all were, but she would alway place hands on your arm or back and she always held eye contact. You were confused from all the signals getting crossed. Of course you knew she was just being nice, but you couldn't help the way your mind wandered about her every time you would lock eyes. 

You split off to go shopping with Ariel and met back up with the others for lunch. Melissa sat next to you and you smiled up at her, she had her hair down but was wearing a casual yet very flattering sundress that had thin straps. You didn't notice any bra straps which made you think she either wasn't wearing one or had a strapless one on. As if she was reading your mind, she let out a sigh and her hands went to the fabric on her chest. 

“I got one of these stupid sticky bras and the damn thing is falling off.” she muttered to the table and you all laughed. Your step-mom went on to share her own experience with those heinous creations and Melissa continued to mess around and you once again turned your focus away from her. 

“Oh my god, should I just take it off.” she laughed turning to you and you laughed along. 

“Just go to the bathroom and fix it.” you suggested, her knee was pressed to yours and you couldn't help your eyes accidentally glancing to her chest for a second. 

“I mean look at that.” she said, holding the top of her dress out for you to see her dilemma. You felt your chest tighten and you panicked inside. The Schemmentis were all very open and close with each other, and you loved to be able to be a part of it all, but this moment had you wanting to drift away in a gust of wind to never be seen again. You couldn't help it and you looked down quickly before nodding and looking away. 

“Yup yeah that sucks.” you said as you took a sip of your water. By the time you all got home you were ready to go back to campus and see your friends. You said goodbye to everyone and drove an hour back to school. Before you left Melissa gave you a hug and you felt her soft hands around your back, one resting on the exposed skin of your waist from your cropped shirt. Her hands were warm along with her skin which was silky soft and radiant. You cleared your head and quickly got into your car to leave. You only had a few more weeks of school, and wanted to hang out with your friends as much as possible. 

--

The next Friday you and your friends took a trip to Philly a few hours away to visit another friend that you hadnt seen in awhile. They had mentioned this popular gay club you and your friends wanted to check out so of course you agreed to go with.

“Yeah I guess it's owned by a famous drag queen, it's in Milwaukee though it's just so far and not worth checking out ya know?” Your friend said to you in the uber on the way to the club, no one wanted to be sober tonight so the Uber was necessary. Your hair was down and you were wearing a little black body con dress with sequins on it and some cute black heels. Currently you were reapplying your lipgloss since the pregaming rubbed some off and you needed to look good tonight. You arrived at the place and you and your friends all cheered when you got inside. The place was two stories, with the second floor being balconies that looked down onto the first that had a large dance floor and of course the bar. 

“Follow me!” your friend said and you all grabbed hands as you moved through people. You noticed the crowd was full of all kinds of people. Some were younger, some were older, but everyone seemed to be having a good time. You were led upstairs where you found another bar, and then booths and high tables placed around under the colorful lighting. You all went to the bar and ordered some drinks, you noticed all the tables up here were full and your friend suggested you go dance. You all agreed and finished your drinks before going back downstairs. You took a second to have another shot and as you were walking to catch up to your friends you saw through the tables of people, on the other side of the room, flaming hair and a glowing smile that erupted with laughter sitting in a booth. You realized who it was and your heart stopped as you admired her. You wondered if you should say hi or just sneak away, as you pondered, one of your friends came up to you. 

“Come on, Y/n” she said and you turned to look at her muttering an apology. You looked back up at Melissa and she was sipping her drink, she must have felt your relentless stare because she looked up and before her eyes landed on you, you were walking downstairs with your friend. Melissa caught a glimpse of you walking away and saw the shine of your hair and furrowed her brows. She assured herself it was just someone else but she couldn't get the image of you out of her head. She walked over to the bar and got a beer, taking it over to the balcony. She leaned over it looking down at the mass of people dancing and her eyes darted through the group. There were so many people squished together she felt her eyes sting as she focused looking through them, searching for your smile. Finally she smiled when she saw you and your friends pulling each other to the dance floor, thankful she wasn't crazy after all. The lights swirled around your face and you danced freely but with elegance to the music. Things slowed down as drinks started to flow and you smiled at the feeling. Time slowed for Melissa as well while she watched you dancing in the haze of smoke and music, your friend moved up behind you and you pressed against her, grinding to the beat and laughing as you did so. Melissa felt her breath catch and her smile grew. She admired your beauty and confidence mixed with your overall humble attitude. The innocence you wore underneath all of that was pulling Melissa in and she took a sip of her beer when she felt her throat going dry. When she looked back down, your friends were coming back from the bar down below, empty shot glasses left in your place at the counter. You kept dancing with your friends and Melissa felt a twitch of jealousy in her. Her brow raised slightly and she sucked her teeth with a smirk. She couldnt peel her eyes away from you, your hips, your face, the way you moved up against your friends, it all enchanted her. 

You smiled and laughed while your friend put her hands on your hips and you both moved along to the music. It was already hot in the room with the amount of people there, but you felt your face heat up even more all of the sudden and you opened your eyes fully and slowed your dancing a bit. You felt eyes on you and something drew you to look upstairs. Immediately bright green eyes were locked on yours. Your hips didnt stop moving as you stared up at the woman, She was smirking at you and you hesitated in reacting. You were fairly tipsy by this point and you had all smoked before coming so when your eyes landed on her you were rather stunned. You couldn't help but smile at her, a sheepish and regretfully seductive smile that caused her to smile back in return. Your friend turned to push her back against you and you instinctively did so, your hips once again moving in sync. Melissa watched in envy from above and sipped her beer, giving you one last glance before walking away. 

You snapped out of your haze and stopped dancing, casually enough to not raise concern, and then said you were going to the bathroom. Your friends nodded and you went upstairs. Fueled by alcohol-induced confidence and of course delusion, you looked for Melissa in the large circle of people. You spotted her table from earlier and you saw her sitting with three other women. From a distance you watched, observing to see if any of these women could be with her. That's when you realized… Melissa was at a gay bar. Which meant one of two things, her queer friends invited her, or Melissa didn't just like men. You knew she had been married and divorced to one but didn't think anything of it. Your heart started to beat faster and you let out a breath, now unsure about going up to her. What good could that do? While you pondered Melissa had seen you standing over by the bar alone and made her way over to you. 

“You really shouldn't be alone hon.” a raspy voice chirped from behind you and your head snapped to look at her.

“I was just up here looking for the bathroom.” you said and she nodded, gesturing you to follow her. By how quickly she took you to the bathroom your senses pointed towards option two of your possibilities for Melissa being here and you sighed to yourself. Melissa held your hand as she led you and you smiled as you kept up with her. When you got out of the bathroom Melissa was waiting outside it, leaning up against the wall of the hallway that was semi-secluded from the rest of the loud music and voices. You smiled at her when you got out and you took advantage of your current situation and looked at her with a grin. She raised a brow and you sighed. 

“So.” you paused looking up at her, “What are you doing in a place like this?” The words dragged out of your mouth but somehow managed to be quick enough that you couldn't properly phrase the question and you made a face at your choice of words. She scoffed with a smile and crossed her arms casually. 

“I could ask you the same thing.” she said softly and you nodded.

“I'm just here with my friends for the weekend.” you said shrugging and she pushed herself off the wall to step closer to you. You looked in her eyes and she tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Why are you really here Y/n?” she said with confidence and you felt your knees go weak. 

“I told you, my friends brought me.” you replied and she shook her head.

“Come on. Be a good girl and tell me what I want to hear.” she said getting serious and you almost melted right there. You wouldn't believe what just came from her mouth. This woman you had met twice, and oh yeah, who was also your step..aunt? You swallowed and she smirked. 

“My dad didn't tell you I like girls… well, women.” you slurred out a bit with a sly smirk and she tilted her head at you.

“I get the feeling you didn't tell him.” you looked at her plainly and laughed, shrugging it off and she stepped closer once again. You felt your back hit the other wall and you couldn't help a small grin. 

“My family doesn't know, I'm very private. I'm not currently seeing anyone. I am as clean as a whistle. I like all women but have a soft spot for redheads.” you rambled out, your eyes softening at the last part as you winked. You would be the first to admit you were fairly drunk at this point. 

“Anything else you wanna know? Oh, I'm wearing black lace panties.” you muttered as you teased her and you went pale when you realized what you said. Embarrassment took over and Melissa just smiled at you with a cocky and mysterious smile. You didn't say a word and just turned to walk away, but she grabbed your arm and pulled you into her, her hands cupped your face and she kissed you softly but with a desire so strong it made your stomach flip. You kissed her back, running your hands through her hair and pulled away with a sigh to catch your breath. Your eyes widened when you realized and you looked down shaking your head. 

“I'm so sorry.” was all you said before walking away to find your friends.

“Damn did you throw up or something?” One said from their spot at the bar. You laughed and shook your head. 

“No, I ran into a friend.”

Your friends were growing tired and you were all about ready to head back. As you were closing out your tab your friends ordered the Uber and used the restroom. You signed the check and thanked the bartender, putting your card back into your purse. The Uber came and you left with your friends. 

That was the last time you saw Melissa for months.

--

 It took a couple days but after your kiss with Melissa you were able to eventually shove it away in the deep dark depths of your brain. You were currently at a work event for the organization you were interning at, and the event was at a nice history museum in Philly. It was a more formal event and you decided to just stay the night in a hotel instead of driving back. You were wearing a very simple yet elegant dress and some smaller heels. Due to your anxiousness you arrived early and decided to drop your stuff at the hotel first. The office made the reservation and covered the hotel expenses, so your room was rather fancy. It was on the top floor of the hotel and had a large king bed and a chaise lounge that sat in front of a large window that overlooked the city. You gasped at the sight and held in a scream at how gorgeous and amazing this was. You looked at your watch and saw it was almost time to head out so you fixed yourself in the bathroom mirror, and then grabbed your phone and purse before heading out. 

You got there fifteen minutes early, and walked up the steps of the museum looking around at all the dimly lit architecture that graced the outside walls. You gawked at how magnificent and intricate it was and continued to do so as you made your way in. There were signs pointing you where you needed to go and eventually you saw some of your coworkers. You mingled with them for a bit and grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waitress as you waited for your boss to arrive. 

“Oh Y/n, you see that group of people over there? Those are the investors we are trying to impress tonight.” one of the other interns whispered to you and you looked over in the direction she pointed. You saw a bunch of people in suits that definitely looked the part and raised your brows. 

“Wow, they are the real deal. Too bad we can't talk to them.” You laughed. 

“Who says you can't?” you heard your boss chime in from beside you and you looked at her with a smile. 

“No one really, just myself.” you replied and she nudged your arm. 

“It's all about networking darling, and anyone can network.” she smiled and then walked to the front of the crowd. 

Did you want to fuck your boss? Yes of course you did. She was brilliant. However at this point in time you knew better, and you needed this job. That didn't stop her from flirting with you, and she actually did flirt, it wasn't in your head. Only reason you know that is because even your friends at work thought so.

After her speech was over you were free to walk the museum, you decided to go checkout the best exhibit they had-- the planetarium. This was always your favorite part of museums and with how fancy this one was you knew it had to be pretty astounding. You decided to go to the bathroom before you went to the exhibit, and as you stopped to read the map on the wall to see where the closest one was, you saw people out of the corner of your eye. Naturally you glanced at them before looking back at the map. However, you recognized a face and you felt your cheeks grow warm, you slowly looked back over out of fear you could be right, and your eyes went wide when you saw the familiar glow of red hair. You watched as Melissa walked slowly, looking at some boring historic artifacts, arm hooked in the arm of… a man. You held back the disapproving glare that tugged to appear on your face and you decided to just turn back around. You decided to stare at the map until they had walked by. Eventually you lost track of how long you had been there, checking your phone to see it was definitely not longer than three minutes. You exhaled and before you could go to turn around you felt a hand on your back, stroking your hair. 

“Hey Y/n.” you heard a velvety voice mutter your name and you felt a ping in your chest. Turning to face her with a smile, you fidget with your watch and look around for the man that was accompanying her. 

“Hi.” you let out, your eyes locking with hers. You looked over her and your chest grew numb as your eyes traced over her curves that were gracefully accentuated by her dress. 

“What brings you to a place like this?” she asked with a grin and you laughed at her mocking question. 

“I could ask you the same thing. We have got to stop meeting like this.” you joke with a light blush on your cheeks as you smile. Trying your best to play your role as a perfectly normal college kid who did not kiss a step relative at a gay club. 

“Looking for the bathroom I presume?” she asked and you nodded, slightly embarrassed. “It's that way.” she said and you nodded in realization. Soon the man she was with came from one of the staff only doors and came to stand next to her, a hand on her back.

“Hey, thanks for waiting.” He said to her before looking over at you with a small smile.

“No, problem I was just catching up with Y/n here she is my sister's stepdaughter.” she said with haste, “Y/n this is Clint he works here at the museum.” she said and you nodded. 

“Nice to meet you. Clint.” you said enunciating the ‘t’ as you looked at Melissa. 

“To clarify I actually own part of the museum not just a regular employee,” he said casually and You saw Melissa's eyes flicker to yours, she was reading your face for a reaction and her eyes softened as she listened to this preppy douche talk about himself, she felt embarrassment creep up on her as she watched you watching him. How could she stand here in front of an intelligent and beautiful girl like you with her arm linked to a man that was barely in Melissa's league and even she knew that for certain. “What brings you here?” he finally asked. 

“I'm here for a work event.” you nodded and he had an “ah-ha” look on his face. 

“Ahh yes, you’re with Smith Archives right?” he asked and your lips flattened. 

“Yup, I'm interning there.” you replied politely and Melissa furrowed her brows. 

“Wow hon that's a long drive home.” she asked with more concern laced in her voice than she intended and you just looked down. 

“I'm staying the night, they put me up in a hotel a few blocks from here.” Her face relaxed and you saw a mischievous twinkle in her eyes for a second before you cleared your throat to break the silence.

“Well it was nice seeing you but I have to get going. Good to meet you, Clin-t.” You said quickly before smiling and turning to head in the direction of the bathroom. The slight sting of jealousy trickled in your head and you rolled your eyes at your own reactions to everything. 

The exhibit was beautiful as you expected. The giant dome was lit up with the night sky and you sat in one of the seats, staring up at them as the soft sound of a narrator explained the astronomy facts. No one else was in there so you got to enjoy it in peace. Amongst the stars you zoned out, thinking of Melissa and convincing yourself this will all pass just like last time. You felt your head hurt from the stress and you took a deep breath. You sat there for at least two rounds of the little speech and were debating on staying for one more before you flinched slightly at a voice from behind you.

“Magnificent isn't it?” you turned to see your boss, Vivian, standing with her arms crossed as she looked around. You stood up and leaned on the backs of the seats. 

“Yeah it is, I'm surprised we are the only ones here.” you muttered as you looked over her frame. Vivian was gorgeous, but her mind, it was her mind that was so brilliant it never failed to reel you in, the way she spoke, and carried herself often left you in a haze. She was so humble and reserved yet gave you just enough to leave you on your toes. She had long dark gray hair with white sprinkled through it, despite only being forty-eight. She had strong cheekbones and piercing brown eyes that were so inviting yet intimidating. 

“Yeah well everyone is at the Dinosaur exhibit.” she laughed and you let out a soft giggle. 

“That makes perfect sense. Did we have any luck with the investors?” you asked and she didn't answer she just turned to look at you with a smile. 

“I want to ask you something Y/n.” she said softly as she walked past you to stand closer to the front of the dome, her head looking around at the stars in front of her. 

“Yeah what's up?” you asked, trying to appear normal. She turned to look at you and you smiled. 

“You know, you are very good at your job,” she paused and you felt your heart stop- oh god were you getting fired right now? “And I really value having you here but there is just one small issue. It is hard for me to help you get the most out of this position when you look at me like you want to fuck me.” Your eyes went wide and your jaw dropped.

“What?” was all you could croak out and she smiled, a soft laugh leaving her lips. 

“Its okay Y/n, I know you don't mean to, and I can't blame you,” she said, gesturing to herself and you laughed awkwardly, “but this brings me to my question.” she started and you nodded for her to continue, you were unsure if this situation could get any crazier so why not. 

“Are you able to get over this little infatuation or do I have to fulfill your fantasy in order for you to move on?” The words left her lips all too quickly and you felt your knees buckle as you leaned on the seats, she walked over to stand in front of you and you smiled up at her. If this was really happening you knew you had to take the opportunity. She stood over you and raised a hand to tuck hair behind your ear. The gesture made your heart ache and you were suddenly reminded of Melissa. You knew nothing could ever come from either of these situations, but your cons were longer for hooking up with Melissa than they were with Vivian. Melissa was never going to do the things you wanted her to and you had accepted that in this moment and allowed yourself to give in to pleasure. Vivian leaned down and hummed waiting for a response. 

“No one will know?” you asked with a smile and half lidded eyes as you looked at her, standing to meet her face to face. 

“Where’s the fun in telling?” she scoffed and you smirked, she moved a hand to brush a thumb over your lips and her other moved to rest on your waist. Just as she was about to lean in to kiss you, you saw movement behind her and you backed away, she did the same. Standing away from you nonchalantly. She relaxed when she saw it wasn't a coworker but you tensed up further when you saw Melissa standing there with a face full of confusion and shock. She didn't know how to feel and could only identify the jealousy she felt burning in her chest. 

“Sorry to interrupt.” she laughed bitterly, before turning and walking out. You watched as she left the dome and you looked down. 

“Did you know her?” Vivian asked and you nodded, “Hmm, ex?” she asked and you shook your head. 

“No, it's complicated.” was all you said. Though you were surprised, that's what Vivian's first guess was.

“Well whoever she is, the way she was looking at you really reminded me of the way you look at me.” she laughed and your eyes snapped up to hers.

“Really?” you asked and she nodded. You looked at your watch and saw that the event was technically over. “I have to go Vivian.” you said with a shaky voice from the anxiety coursing through you. 

“Go ahead Y/n. we can always pick up where we left off another time.” she winked and you ignored the small flutter in your stomach as you said goodnight, placing a kiss to her cheek, and then leaving the exhibit. You practically jogged down the hall, you looked all over and couldn't find her, the last place you looked being the front of the museum. You slowed when you saw her standing on the curb. You walked over and took a breath before coming to stand beside her. You didn't say anything and she looked at you.

“Was that your boss?” she asked and you nodded which earned a scoff from Melissa and you rolled your eyes. “I see you do have a type, though she looked a little too old for you.” she joked with a slight sting behind her words that fueled your own jealousy.

“Where is your date, Flint?” you asked with a smile and she sighed.

“Clint, and he is pulling the car up.”

“Where did you, uh, meet him?” you asked and she crossed her arms, both of you not looking at one another. 

“I met him on a field trip here, this is only our second date.” she spoke softly and it set off a signal in your brain. She seemed more mellow than usual, she seemed unhappy and all out of pep. You thought maybe she was just tired but didn't want to ask. You decided to bite your tongue and not make any more remarks about the topic. Soon you saw a car in the distance pulling around and knew you didn't have much time.

“Melissa.” you said and she looked at you.

“Yeah hon?” 

"Who were you with at the club that one night?” the simple question came out rather judgemental and you looked down.

“My friends from work. Why do you ask sweetie?” she said and you felt your heart swell at the pet name. You felt your cheeks grow hot and she sensed your nerves. She knew you wanted to ask her something else and just couldn't find the push you needed. “I date whoever I want, hon.” she said casually, leaning closer to your ear and you furrowed your brows. She gestured around and you realized what she was alluding to and you nodded. 

“What did you really want to ask me?” she said and you looked down.

“I can't, not now, as much as I want to.” you said softly. You both turned to look at one another and Melissa smiled. 

“What’s there to lose?” she said and your eyes met hers, she could see the desire lit within your gaze, she knew exactly what you wanted. Now it was up to her to decide, she had you at her fingertips and she wasn't going to let this chance pass by.

“Who says anything has to happen sweetheart?” she said assertively and you just smiled. Clint came pulling up and you looked at Melissa. Clint got out of the car to open her door and she put her arm around your waist gently and looked at him with sympathy. 

‘Hey Clint, I'm actually going to take Y/n back to her hotel room. She isn't feeling too well and I want to make sure she gets there okay.” You didn't say anything and just hid the smile that crept at the corners of your lips.

“Oh ok I can follow and take you back to your place after?” he offered and she shook her head. 

“No, that's okay, i'll take a taxi. Have a good night thanks.” She looked at you with a smile and you grabbed your purse. 

“I'm driving this time.” you chirped and she laughed, grabbing your hand and walking to your car. The ride to the hotel was so tense you thought you wouldn't make it there without the car breaking down from the sheer weight of it. Your legs were spread slightly and your dress was riding up. Melissa tried to keep her gaze under control but you eventually caught her looking and smiled. Your cheeks flushed and you looked out the window. The wind coming in from the cracks of the windows chilled your face and made your cheeks grow rosy. The slight humidity in the air was comforting and you couldn't help but smile as you looked out at the streets. Soon you were arriving at the Hotel and you felt your chest tighten as you got out of the car. 

“This is a very nice hotel.” she said as you followed her in and you laughed. As you walked through the lobby you spotted the bar and looked at Melissa. 

“Are you tired?” you asked and she shook her head. 

“Want to get a drink?" you said, gesturing to the bar. 

“Always.” 

After two hours of talking and nursing a few beers as well as two cocktails and a shot, you and Melissa moved to just drinking water, and went to sit on the patio. You sat facing each other on the couch, your knees tucked up and your elbow resting on the back of the sofa. You and Melissa were talking about all kinds of things, getting to know each other, and joking around together. It was one of the best nights you’d had in a while, where you were truly having fun and getting to just exist in the moment. 

“Ugh do we have to go to bed? I could sit here talking all night” you stated simply and she smirked. As if she did it herself, you felt your throat dry up and you went to grab your water, taking large sips you felt a drop trickle down from the corner of your mouth and down your chin. Melissa let out a shaky breath and you set the glass down looking at her. She raised her hand to your face slowly, not taking her eyes from yours. 

“What do you want to do sweetie?” she said as her thumb wiped the water off your chin and you felt your chest go hot and your breathing grew shallow. You decided there was no going back now and you smiled. The drinks were flowing and you felt fuzzy, the kind of tipsy you usually only got from wine. 

“What I want to do isn’t appropriate.” you muttered with a grin, tearing your eyes from her and looking down into your water glass. 

“If you are gonna say things like that Y/n, say them with confidence.” she quipped and you looked up at her with big eyes that soon turned hazy. 

“Why were you on a date with Clint?” you asked as you were told to, your back straight, and your voice clear. 

“I have needs. I know he was an idiot.” she said simply.

“How many women have you been with?” you said swiftly and she looked down and then sucked her teeth.

“I don't think you want to know.” she shrugged and you furrowed your brows.

“I've never been with one.” you said looking at her with a shy gaze and her smile softened. She knew from the moment she first saw you that there was a sweetness in you and she could tell by your body language and the way that her words affected you that you were inexperienced and searching for the right woman's touch.

“I know hon.” she nodded and you felt your cheeks heat up again at how easily she saw right through you. The air grew thick as you admired each other and you looked over her face in awe. 

“Why did you kiss me that night?” The question left your lips softly but with speed, you didn't regret asking it though. 

“Do I need a reason?” she said with humor and you moved to sit closer, your knees touching hers.

“Why won’t you kiss me now?” you said with confidence, and you held the same challenging look on your face that Melissa had months ago. She smiled and looked you up and down slowly, your skin melting under her fiery gaze. Your core tightened and your eyes darted between hers. 

“Do you want me to, baby?” she said softly with a teasing tone and you felt your heart swell. Her hand moved to play with your hair as she looked in your eyes. Her eyes searched yours for the answer and you felt the weight of her gaze cause the rise of tension and lust to float in the air. You could feel your cheeks tingle like pricks of a needle on your soft skin. You nodded and she raised a brow, waiting for more. 

“Yes, I want you to kiss me.” you practically shouted with a laugh and she didn't hesitate to grab your waist and pull you in, her lips devouring yours as a hand moved to grasp your jaw. You moaned into the kiss and pushed your chest against hers as she moved her other hand from your hip to grab your ass. Her hand then slid under your thigh to hook under your knee and lift it to her hip, causing your core to press against her as you moved to straddle her. You felt a fire erupt in your core at the action and you swear her skilled mouth caused you to almost climax there and then. The heat between the both of you was so strong with one strong gust of wind you would have set the whole hotel ablaze. You moaned and she pulled away from the kiss, admiring your glossy eyes and puffy lips with her own lips being slightly pink around the edges. 

“What else do you want me to do?” she said out of breath and you just pulled her back in for a kiss, you let her tongue roam your mouth and find a pattern with your own. Your stomach grew hot and you felt your core tighten around nothing. You answered her question by grabbing her hand and moving it between your legs and she groaned into your mouth, causing a wave of arousal to wash over you. 

“God honey you are soaked for me huh?” she muttered between kisses and you nodded, she kissed along your neck as her hand moved your dress up and slid her hand into your panties. You moaned as she moved her fingers over your clit and pleased you with precision you weren't surprised by.

“Fuck Melissa- I want you so bad.” you whined out and she pulled away, removing her hand and grabbing yours. 

“Come on baby.” she said as you stood up and walked back inside, you headed to your room and the moment you got in the elevator Melissa was pushing you against the wall, her hands roaming your body as you tangled your hands in her hair, and moaned against her lips. The sounds you made echoed in the small area and only spurred Melissa on. The ding chimed loudly to alert you of your arrival and you broke away from her, digging in your purse for your key as you stepped out. Melissa kept an arm around your waist as you walked to your room, which you couldn't unlock due to the nerves and drinks in your system causing you to miss the slot. Melissa grabbed it from you and did it with ease and you smiled at her.

“Thank you.” You opened the door and led Melissa inside, shutting the door behind you and locking it. 

“Holy shit this is a nice room.” she said looking around and you nodded. When she turned to face you again, you were taking off your heels and pulling your dress off over your head. Her eyes grew heavy with lust and she walked over to you, cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss, she backed you up to the bed and she pushed you back. You climbed up and sat against some pillows, your legs spread. She watched and bit her lip as she admired your frame. She took her own shoes off and hesitated. 

“Fuck you are gorgeous. You sure you want this baby? Once I fuck you, we can't go back.” she said firmly and you nodded eagerly. She slipped her own dress off and you felt your breath hitch at the sight of her. Her body was gorgeous, absolutely perfect. You wanted to feel her skin under your fingertips and trace her curves for the rest of your life.

“I want you more than anything I've ever wanted.” you said with a lovestruck voice and she smiled. 

She came up and straddled you, immediately kissing you again with force, her teeth sinking into your bottom lip earning a surprised and throaty gasp from you. She looked down at you and moved her hand to cup your center. You admired her as she rubbed circles on your sensitive core. Her eyes were sparkling, and her lips were turned up at the corners in a smirk. You moaned into her kiss as she continued to move her hand. Her thighs laid over yours and the warmth of hers around you felt like heaven. She pulled away to breath and you looked each other in the eyes, her hand came out of your panties and to your lips, she brushed her thumb over your lip and you looked at her with doe eyes. Your hands rested on her ass, and she looked down at you with a smile. 

“Open.” she said softly and you didn't hesitate to open your mouth and allow her to slip two fingers in. You sucked on them not tearing your eyes from hers as your tongue did circles around them. Melissa pulled them out of your mouth slowly before allowing them to return to their spot on your clit, your warm saliva touching your slit caused you to groan and Melissa kissed your open mouth, her tongue diving in and swirling around yours, finding a rhythm as you kissed back, you rocked your hips into her hand, causing her arm to press against her own center. Your hands squeezed her ass and nudged her towards you gently, she arched into you, her chest against yours as she continued to kiss you roughly. Without warning she slid her fingers into you and you let out a loud moan into the kiss and she smiled, pulling away to hover just above your mouth, your lips almost touching as she curled her fingers inside you, deep and rough. Your brows furrowed and your mouth opened as you rocked against her fingers. 

“You liked that baby?” she whispered in her deep voice and your stomach fluttered. You nod with a smile.

“Don't stop please.” you whine and she giggles.

“I wouldn't dream of it.” she pushes into you harder and faster and you feel the heat in your core grow hotter, a tight feeling forming in your sensitive and deprived cunt. She stayed hovering a mere inch above you as she moved her hips slowly and her fingers moved hard and fast. You rocked your hips into her faster and she looked down at you with a devious smile. She watched as your face contorted with pleasure and your eyes went glossy as you grew closer to your release. You moaned as you felt your legs press together and your back arched into Melissa. 

“Fuck, im going to cum.” you moaned into her and she smiled, finally kissing you again, this time slowly and tender. Her soft lips wrapping around yours gently and her fingers shoved into you caused quite the contrast and you felt your chest flutter from the contradicting emotions. Your brows furrowed and you squeezed around her.

“Cum for me baby, be a good girl and let it all out.” she said softly and your eyes snapped shut as you came around her fingers. You let out a loud moan as your legs tingle and you twitch under her slightly. You rode it out on her fingers and she pulled them out of you, bringing them to her mouth with a smile. You watched in amazement as her plump lips wrapped around her fingers coated in your flavor. 

“Fuck you are,” you paused looking up at her, the dim lighting around her caused her to glow, her hair cascading around her face that was dewy from the things she had just done to you. Her lips were pink and her eyes were full of mischief and lust. She looked stunning, she was stunning. How could you put into words how incredible she was. She raised a brow waiting for you to finish with a smile on her face. “Ethereal.” you finally said and she looked at you with a more serious gaze, trying to detect any underlying emotions you may have been disguising. 

“Well you aren't so bad yourself babe.” she laughed and you shook your head gently, still in your hypnotic state as you stared at her.

“No, I'm serious Melissa. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” you said with a serious tone and her smile faded as she looked at you. After a moment she looked down and sighed. 

“Thank you, hon.” she said as she moved off you and got off the bed, you watched her with confusion and your eyebrows scrunched together when she reached for her dress. 

“Woah hey, did I do something wrong?” you asked getting up to walk over to her and she quickly shook her head.

“No, not at all. You’re a wonderful girl Y/n, but we can't be doing this, I want you but you are young, and I don't want you to..” she paused, her hand going to her forehead and you looked down as you realized.

“Fall in love with you?” the words left your lips quietly and she looked at you up and down with sympathy. 

“I'm sorry I didn't think any of this through. I'm going to go, before anything else happens.” she said looking for her shoes and you shook your head, walking to stand between her and the hall to the door. 

“I know I'm young but I'm not some high school virgin that's gonna fall in love with you because we sleep together.” You scoffed and she shook her head. 

“No you’re not, but you have never been with a woman or been in a serious relationship with one, and I cant have this be your first.” she said, grabbing her purse. You stepped closer to her and she used all her strength to keep her eyes on yours. 

“Is this not what you wanted though?” you asked sharply, gesturing between you and she looked down. “You didn't want to see me naked, on display for you?” you asked as you moved to take off your bra. 

“Y/n-” she started, not looking at your body and you laughed as you slid your panties to the ground while you looked her in the eyes. 

“Tell me this isn't what you wanted. Tell me that you weren't dreaming about me after we kissed that night, that I didn't cross your mind while you touched yourself, that you didnt want to fuck me in that museum while my boss watches. That you don't want to touch me right now.” you said stepping closer, now only a foot from her, she looked into your eyes and let out a sigh.

“I-” she couldn't get the words out. Melissa was usually so quick-witted and good with words, but with you it was hard, and in this moment it felt impossible. You looked at her with a smirk, reaching to grab her hand, you placed it on your chest and she kept her eyes on yours. Slowly and effortlessly, you slid her hand over your breasts and down your stomach. Her breath hitched in her throat as she looked at you. 

“Fuck me.” she muttered under her breath, deciding to say fuck it and bringing her other hand to your waist, pulling you into her and kissing you with heat and aggression, she dominated the kiss and her nails dug into your hips as she kissed you with a desire strong enough to cause you to slam against the wall behind you, you moaned from the feeling, and she pulled away.

“Lay back on the bed baby.” she ordered and you nodded, moving to the bed once again. After many orgasms later you both eventually fell asleep, naked and tangled in the sheets, Melissa's warm body pressed against yours all night. 

--

A loud ringing song woke you from one of the best sleeps you have had in a long time. Annoyed and groggy you lifted your head to see what it was, you saw Melissa reaching for her phone and the noise stopped, but she brought it to her ear as she moved to get up out of bed. You watched her frame move gently around the room and she gathered her clothes from the floor and chaise. 

“Yeah I’m fine.” she said in a soft tone and you tried your best to hear who was on the other side. You heard a lower voice but couldn't quite make it out. “Mhm. Oh um, I can't go to brunch today but lets rain check.” You furrowed your brows as you turned to lay on your side and propped your head up on your hand, your naked body lay exposed aside from the sheet barely covering your cunt and one of your breasts. Melissa turned and saw you were awake and smiled at you as she looked for her shoes once again. “Oh dinner? Look Clint I have a busy day maybe next weekend? Ok yeah, bye.” She hung up and you raised your brow with a smile. “I'm gonna shower.” was all she said as she put her hair in a bun and took her undergarments into the bathroom with her. 

Your lips flattened into a disappointed expression and you looked around the hotel room at the mess you two made. Sheets were scattered around along with your own clothes. You got up and looked in the mirror, you had a bruise on your hip and you smiled at it. Thankfully she avoided leaving hickeys. You walked over to the bathroom and gently moved the handle to see if it was locked, it moved down and opened and you smirked. You shut it behind you and looked over at the shower. It was a large walk-in shower with glass walls and a built-in shower bench. A towel was thrown over the panel of the door, just barely blocking your view of Melissa's wet and naked body. As you put your hair into a bun, you walked over and opened the door, stepping in and coming up behind her, your arms coming to rest on her hips as your lips placed kisses on her shoulder. 

“You sleep okay?” you asked and she hummed as she turned to face you, turning you towards the water so you were wet too. 

“You did so good last night baby.” she praised you with a velvety voice as her hands roamed your body, she grabbed the body wash and put some in her hands, lathering it and placing her hand on you once again. She went over your arms and shoulders, turning you around to get your back as you washed your face, her hands moved over your hips and that's when she saw the bruise. 

“Oh hon, did I hurt you.” she said with a sympathetic yet teasing tone, her fingers moving to trace it gently, sending a chill up your back. You looked over your shoulder at her, placing a kiss to her soft lips and smiled. 

“No, I had a wonderful time.” you answered and she moved her hands to trail up your stomach and over your breasts. You turned to face her and cupped your hands to her cheeks and pulled her in for a kiss, you felt her wet breasts press against your chest and you moaned into her mouth, she took control, pushing you against the shower wall as her tongue moved around your mouth. You groaned and your hands moved to squeeze her ass and pull her into it, her knee came to sit between your legs and you pressed your core into it. Melissa pulled away swiftly and you opened your eyes, she was stepping out and grabbing her towel with a sinister smile. 

“Finish up baby, I'll be here when you get out.” she reassured you and then grabbed her things and walked out of the bathroom.  You stood in shock, hot and bothered as the water grew colder on your skin. You did as you were told and washed your hair as you tried your best to hurry. When you got out of the bathroom, Melissa was dressed and fixing her hair into a ponytail, perfectly curled pieces falling to frame her face. 

“You know my boss said I could use the hotel for another night if I wanted.” you quipped looking at her seductively as you walked to your suitcase and got out a change of clothes. Melissa didn't say anything, she just got up and walked over to you. 

“I had a great night, and you are.. Amazing.” she started and your lips turned down slightly.

“But?” you said with a scoff and her brows pushed together.

“But it was a one time thing.” she said and you shook your head, you dropped your towel and started to put your clothes on as you argued back.

“Oh fuck off with that Melissa, there is no reason two adults cant have sex every now and then. Guess what we fucked last night and im not in love with you.” not yet at least your subconscious chirped and you rolled your eyes.

“I know, but like I said last night it's wrong of me to let this happen. I’ll see you around.” she said before grabbing her purse and heading out of the door. You stood in disbelief and put your shoes on, grabbing your phone and purse and heading out after her. You caught up to her and grabbed her arm.

“Let me drive you home.” You said and she looked at you for a moment.

“Fine, but I'm driving.” she said and you walked to your car giving her your keys. You sat in silence before grabbing your phone and texting your boss. You told her you wanted to stay another night and she liked the message before sending a witty response that made you smile. Melissa saw but didnt say anything and just kept her eyes on the road. She lived close so the drive was short and you walked her to her door. 

“Come see me tonight while I'm still in town.” You said as she opened the door. She turned to look at you and you smiled. 

“I cant.” 

“You absolutely can.” you quipped and she tilted her head.

“I shouldn't.” 

“Why not? Give me one good reason.” your tone was light, but your eyes didn't leave hers as she looked at you. 

“Your dad is married to my sister. That's my best reason, I'm sorry hon. Get back safe.” she said before shutting the door and leaving you on her porch. You felt your cheeks grow hot in frustration and heading back to your car, driving out of her neighborhood. You didn't know where to go so you just drove around, looking at the beautiful architecture of the city, you found a cinema and decided to go see a movie. 

By the time the movie ended the sun had just started to set and you looked for a place to get dinner. An idea popped into your head and you smiled, pulling out your phone. You texted Melissa asking her to go to dinner with you since you were alone in the city. However you felt your chest sink when she read the message and never answered. You scoffed and chewed on your lip. You didn't understand why Melissa even slept with you in the first place if she didn't really have to desire to. I mean were you bad? Screw this, you headed back to your hotel and decided to drive home.

The truth was Melissa was the one afraid of falling in love with you. She loved your personality and she felt butterflies all night while you two talked, fooled around, and slept together. However she was terrified of someone finding out and her sister, or your dad finding out and being uncomfortable. She figured she would just cut it off now and she wouldn't go to any parties if she knew you were going to be there. She wouldn't go back to the museum, and she would sit at the club every weekend, sifting through every crowd, looking for your smile. 

She did that for months. Just like when she kissed you, she created an unforgettable memory with you, then disappeared. Leaving you to get over the experience and pretend it didn't happen. 

--

This time it took a couple months to fully get over your night with Melissa. You would dream of it constantly. If you closed your eyes in the shower you would see her. If you went out you would look around the bars for her. You even stopped masturbating because you could only ever finish if you thought of Melissa. Eventually, with time you rarely thought of her. Some rare and rough nights she would plague your dreams, kissing you, fucking you, saying she loves you. Those nights you would wake yourself up and not go back to sleep. On the more lonely nights though, you would stay asleep, stay in the perfect illusion your mind created and wake up in a funk that would last a week. 

You were home for winter now and knew you were going to see Melissa at least once. You started mentally preparing ahead of time, and just hoped you would be able to be normal, but when you heard she was coming to stay for a few days you almost decided to just leave. Having no place else to go did pose a challenge, but you were worried about what those days would bring. She was coming to stay over for new years and you knew this setting was going to teach you a great lesson on self-control. You only hoped things wouldnt be awkward forever, and you hoped that your heart wouldn't fall out of your chest and into her hands upon your first glance.

[reiderwriter]

🌞 Just Hanging Out 🌞

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, suggestive MINORS DNI 18+

WC: 3k

Summary: To kick off your vacation, you find yourself at Rossi's mansion with your team for a big summer barbeque. A hammock in the garden catches your eye, and you enlist Reid to help you have some fun in the sun.

Warnings: reader is a tease, shy Spencer, sexual arousal (M and F) no physical smut (god I wish we still used the citrus system).

A/N: Here's my second entry to @imagining-in-the-margins CM Summer Sunshine Fic Challenge! Thanks to everyone who helped my pick the plot for this one :) I was also intending for this to be a reply to one of my requests for more BAU reader, but unfortunately tumblr deleted that request so 🤡 I'm tagging the account below anyways, and I have three more BAU reader fics coming in the next two weeks-ish, including my new series That's What You Get, so I hope you like this fic and be sure to look out for the others! Enjoy~

Here's my masterlist and my requests are open!

It was mid-August, and thankfully, the serial killers of America had given up crime for one week of the year to allow you to enjoy some much needed vacation time. The entire team had been put on annual leave, and you were determined to enjoy it to the absolute capacity of your ability.

Despite being together year-round, you actually enjoyed the company of your coworkers, so when Rossi announced he was planning a summer barbeque at his place to kick off your vacation time, you were ecstatic. If Rossi’s barbecuing skills were anything like his pasta making skills, you were expecting to eat yourself into a food coma and not wake up for the next seven days.

“Not a single one of you will touch this grill, stand within a 1 foot radius of this grill or even dare to look at this grill, so help me God, are we understood?” Rossi announced as soon as you arrived, the last of the BAU team to gather in his self-proclaimed mansion. The gardens were beautiful, and the kids were already running riot on the slip and slide that he had set up for them, screaming and giggling in delight.

“Trust me, you’re not getting me near that thing today, Rossi,” you laugh as you pour yourself a glass of wine from the refreshments table. “Last time I was anywhere near a grill I almost died.”

“I don’t remember encountering any unsubs who used grills as their weapon of choice,” JJ laughed at you as she held out her own glass and you gladly filled it for her.

“That’s because it wasn’t on a case, it was a family barbeque when I was 17 and my grandfather thought I should learn some ‘practical skills,’” you shot a grin at her as she rolled her eyes at you and walked away.

You grabbed your glass and looked for somewhere to perch yourself while you took in the sun. Morgan and Prentiss had already grabbed the two sun-loungers on the patio and were both sitting shirtless (with a bikini top on in Prentiss’s case) taking in as much sun as they could. Garcia was similarly sprawled on the deck sofa, and JJ joined her their after grabbing her refreshment, Will stood by the edge of the deck watching over the kids. Hotch had the amazing foresight to bring his own camping chair, and was set up similarly with one eye on Jack and the other on a book in his hand.

And just where you were expecting him, Spencer Reid was stood awkwardly at the edge of the house, in the only spot of shade he could find, leaning slightly against the door, and squinting into the sun.

“Rossi, you got any other chairs I can grab for me and Reid?” you called out to your host.

“There should be some over by the shed, they might need a bit of a dusting down though.”

“Come on pretty boy, you can’t just be standing all day, you’re going to make me feel tired just watching you,” you laughed up at him and caught the flush of his cheeks as he finally caught that you meant him to follow you.

“I’m really fine here over in the shade, I don’t do too great in the sun, anyways. More of an autumnal person, really…”

“I’d feel bad seeing you stand all day, and besides, what if I need a big, strong man to help me carry my chair over?” As he gaped his mouth open and closed looking for a retort, you felt the small flash of victory spread warm your chest. It wasn’t that you liked messing with Reid, it’s that he was an easy target and actually you loved it.

Having joined the team only the year prior, you’d quickly found the genius incredibly endearing, loving to listen to his little monologues about whatever topic had popped into his head that day, often earning groans from your other colleagues as you encouraged him to keep going.

You’d discovered your love of making him squirm a few months into the job, when you had to interrogate a submissive partner of an unsub together. After theorising that the submissive personality had a thing for women who looked like you, especially ones that were pretty dominant and controlling, you’d decided to give him what he wanted. You’d popped the top button, walked into the room and given him your best shot before having to re-strategize.

“What if we send Reid in there with her?” Morgan was the one to suggest, “Have him act a bit touchy, show him something he’s missing out on. We already tried giving him what he wanted, let’s see how he reacts to someone he doesn’t view as a threat getting everything he thinks he’s entitled to.”

It was a good guess, and it worked. You’d walked into the room, and let Reid start asking the questions. He’d gently laid a hand on your thigh, just high enough for the suspect to notice, and you’d done nothing but quietly whisper directly into his ear, watching the entire time to see how the man in front of you would react. He’d cracked in ten minutes and started spewing misogynistic drivel, so angry that he accidentally confessed to the crime and gave away his partner’s location.

It seemed Reid had cracked just a bit too. He’d avoided eye-contact with you for an entire week after that, and whenever he talked to you in that time, it was like his brain short-circuited. You’d bought a genius with an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory to his knees with a few whispers in his ear, and you loved the rush of power you felt remembering it. The memory of his strong hand on your thigh did nothing to quell your growing attraction towards the man.

“If you wanted someone big and strong, you should’ve asked Morgan,” Reid snapped you out of your thoughts as he diligently followed you in the direction Rossi had pointed. It was a pretty secluded spot in the garden, a little bit away from the action and you were glad to be out of earshot so you could begin your teasing of the Good Doctor.

“I’m sure you’re big and strong in certain places, Spencer,” you smiled at him, and began looking at the chairs.

You spotted it in the corner, then, the perfect tool for your torment. It seemed relatively new, barely used but still pretty sturdy, and you knew this was it.

“Hey, Rossi, what about this hammock in the corner, can I set this up, too?” you shouted back over to the group and grinned up at Reid.

“Do you have a death wish? Because if so, go ahead and tangle with that devil.” Rossi shouted back, not even looking up from the miriad of sausages and burgers he was working on.

“That sounds like a challenge to me, Doc.” You say and you start pulling it out into the sunlight, Reid steps behind you sighing in defeat. He knew that once you had your mind set on something, you were pretty stubborn about completing it.

“Okay, can you give me a boost?” The bed of the hammock fell to about your chest height, and whilst you knew you were probably able to climb in by yourself, you were wearing a particularly short sundress, and as much as you teased Reid, you didn’t exactly want to give the rest of your team and their families an eyeful.

“You want me to try to lift you into this thing?” Reid squeaked out, a look of confusion passing over his features.

“Yeah, just grab my hips and give me a boost and I’ll swing my legs over and straddle it. Then we can see what’s it's like.” He moved cautiously up behind you, letting his hands graze your waist.

“Reid, you’re going to have to hold me a bit tighter than that if we’re actually going to get anywhere.” You placed your hands over his and pushed his grip down stronger; you could practically hear him gulp from behind you. He pushed you up, and you almost had it, but you couldn’t quite pull yourself up and into it.

After a few attempts, you realised it wasn’t going to work. Reluctantly pulling yourself out of Reid’s grip, you turned to face him.

“New plan, you get in first and pull me up.”

“What? I don’t want to go anywhere near that thing, didn’t you hear what Rossi said?”

“Come on Reid, just this once, for me? We have to try at least!” you pouted up at him now with pleading eyes, hoping that you wouldn’t have to resort to batting your eyelashes at him to get him to agree.

“One attempt, and then I’m grabbing a normal chair and leaving, okay?” He negotiated, but you didn’t care and excitedly wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him in for a hug.

“Yay, thank you! I love you, Reid, you know that?” you pulled back slightly to deliver that last line, your arms still around his neck, watching the redness spread upto his cheeks.

He mumbled a quick whatever and pulled away to begin his attempts.

Perhaps it was his few extra inches of height or spindly frame, but Reid managed to climb up quite easily, not even rocking the hammock that much in his ascent.

He sat up pretty steadily, and you lifted your arms to him, and that’s when it all started going wrong. You’re combined weight wasn’t enough to break the hammock, but it was enough to set it off into an unsteady rocking that made your stomach lurch slightly. You swung your leg as best you could over Reid’s, already in the hammock, and as soon as you found some purchase there, he lowered one hand to pull your lower body up as well.

It was just unfortunate that the place his hand landed was directly over your ass, and you let out a sharp gasp as he grabbed it tightly and hauled you up to sit directly over him, chest to chest, practically straddling his entire body in the cramped space of the hammock bed.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I meant to grab your hip.” He tried to let go of you and push his hands up where you could see them, but the sudden movement made the hammock lurch dangerously so you snapped your hand over his and forced them back to their previous position.

“No sudden movements, Spencer, I don’t particularly want to be the butt of all jokes for the next year if we fall out of this thing.” You panicked slightly and squirmed a little in your position, trying to explore your range of movement.

“How are we going to get out of this if we can’t move?” he shot back at you, a look of mild discomfort on his face, and an I-told-you-so begging to escape his lips.

“If you just give me a minute to explore our options, maybe I would be able to figure that out.”

“If you keep squirming like that we’re going to have more problems than just how to get down,” he huffed under his breath, but he was so close that it was impossible for you to miss it.

It was your turn to blush now, as you caught his insinuation. With his hand firmly on your ass, and your legs either side of his, you could feel the entire length of his body below you. Each squirm you made the dampness between your legs pool a little bit more and then you in-turn squirmed even more in a vicious cycle.

After a few minutes, there was no denying that the thing prodding your core was Spencer’s sizable… appendage.

“Shit, Y/N, I’m sorry, it’s just a natural reaction,” he groaned out from below you when he realised you could feel it too, and you’d never heard anything so beautiful as the moans he was accidentally vocalising.

“It’s my fault, I’m sorry for being so stubborn about this. Let me see if I can figure something else out,” you cautiously slid your hands up his chest, and he screwed his eyes shut. Pushing against his shoulders, you slowly pulled yourself up to a seated position, doing your best to not rock the hammock too much. The new position did nothing to dampen the friction the two of you were feeling, and you knew that you were a few seconds away from a point of no return. Your hips bucked slightly against him against your will, and you really hoped he hadn’t noticed that was totally not to the benefit of you getting out of the hammock.

You looked down to the ground so you could see how far the descent would be, and if you’d have to call for backup anytime soon. Luckily you thought you’d be able to make it if you just swung your legs over the side and got out as quickly as possible, but fate had other plans.

“Spencer, Y/N what are you two doing over here?” came Emily’s voice from behind you. Spencer’s eyes shot open and he pulled his head up slightly to look at her. However, his movement had rocked the hammock a little bit harder than before, so he had to grab your hip to steady the two of you, pushing you further down into him. You did your best to stifle the moan, biting down hard on your tongue as you did so.

“Oh you know, just hanging out,” he managed to get out in reply, his voice notably higher than it usually was.

“You sure you guys don’t need any help? That doesn’t look like the safest of chairs.” Emily’s questioning stare never lifted and you knew that if she caught wind of what was actually going on, you wouldn’t be able to look her in the eye for an entire year. You couldn’t accept the help.

“Yeah, we were just going to climb down in a second, we’re just checking to see how… sturdy it is right now.”

“Sturdy. Right. Well, Rossi said the food would be ready to start serving in a few minutes and asked me to call you guys over.”

“We’ll be right there, thanks Emily.” You smiled at her and she made to walk away, a suspicious look still on her face.

“What do you mean we’ll be right there, I can’t go over there like this!” Spencer whisper yelled into your ears.

“What else was I supposed to say to get her to go away,” you whisper yelled back. You ran a free hand through your hair, and shifted again, your legs beginning to cramp up a little in the awkward position.

“Okay you get down, I’ll make a break for the bathroom, say all this moving around made me need to pee or something, and then we meet up again on the patio and pretend this never happened?” he said and you nodded quickly.

You began to lift your body weight up and remove your legs from the tangle you were stuck in, and that’s when the hammock reared it’s ugly head for the final time. As you lifted your leg slowly, you accidedntally got your foot stuck in the side of the fabric, and pinned there but still moving, the hammock toppled and spat both of you out unceremoniously.

Reid landed ontop of you with a hard thud. You let out a sweet curse, just as Reid pushed his body weight onto his hands, taking some of the pressure off of you after the fall. You stared up into his eyes as you realised you’d found yourself in yet another compromising situation and you deepeded to a scarlet red as you realised your sundress had blown up completely in your descent, and he was now neatly nestled in between your legs, with your damp underwear on display for him.

Looking down at you, he took a beat too long to react, and you squirmed under his gaze, feeling appropriately trapped, before he sprung up and offered you a hand up.

You took his hand and rearranged your dress, thankful that the smell of the food had distracted everyone from your embarrassing fall.

“Okay, we’re out.” You were flustered and you didn’t know what else to say.

“Yep, that was certainly one way to do it,” Reid replied, as you avoided his gaze. You wrapped your arms around yourself, and he made to do so similarly, trying his best to rearrange himself so the bulge in his pants wasn’t so noticeable.

“You should get to the bathroom.”

“You should get to the food.” He retorted and you finally made to move, but stopped yourself turning around quickly to face the man again.

“Before I go,” you said and you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss into his mouth, feeling as giddy as a teenager braving her first kiss. You turned away just as fast and made your way back to the party, leaving a flustered and spluttering Reid behind as you made a beeline for the food.

“So, what’d you think of the hammock?” Rossi asked you as you began loading your plate up. You put on your best poker face and begged noone had noticed anything out of the ordinary.

“You were right. That thing is dangerous,” was your only response, and you retreated into the corner to finish your food. You sat there waiting eagerly for Reid to return, not just so you could be in his presence again and see how he was reacting to your kiss, but also so you could get the image of him dealing with his situation out of your mind.

It seemed that being a tease and working him up hadn’t quite ended so well for you that day.

You blamed the hammock.

---------------------------------------------------

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[delulu4anime]

Maniac

Ch 2-An Unwelcome Visit

Parings ➧ᴇɴᴇᴍʏ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ!ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ ɢᴏᴊᴏ x ᴄʜᴜʙʙʏ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Summary ➧ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴇɴ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴠᴏɪᴅ ʜɪᴍ ᴏɴᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇꜱ ɪᴛ ᴜɴᴀᴠᴏɪᴅᴀʙʟᴇ. ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴀ ᴍᴀɴɪᴀᴄ ɪꜰ ʜᴇ ᴛʜɪɴᴋꜱ ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜰᴀʟʟ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ.

Trigger Warnings ➧ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɪꜰ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ.

Word Count ➧2.2ᴋ+

Taglist ➧@lady-of-blossoms (ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀɢɢᴇᴅ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʟᴍᴋ❣︎)

    A few weeks had passed by after getting the dreadful news that Satoru would be standing by the groom like you would be the bride. You distracted yourself with the excitement Emi had once the pressure of picking a date and time for the wedding were finally set. The wedding would be on November twenty-sixth at six in the afternoon. This gave Emi and Kento exactly seven months to plan everything from who would be invited to what guest would be eating at the reception. Emi had brought her laptop and started on her checklist she had for her wedding when the shop had its down time.

    Due to the rainy weather over the past few days business was a little slower; most people wanted their coffee hot and to go so they could rush wherever they needed to go before the rain got to them. Which fortunately for you two meant you could look over the next thing on her check list which was what Emi wanted her invitations looked like. She had found a random website that seemed to carry hundreds upon hundreds of designs for invitations and rsvp cards alike for a reasonable price. She pointed out a few options then would scrunch her nose up as if she immediately hated the idea that her and Kento's name with their special date would be printed on something like that. You pointed out a few subtle designs which you knew she would hate just to see her reaction.

    "Isn't it your turn to dust the book shelves?" She said when you pointed out a design that resembled something a child would use to invite their friends to their sixth birthday party and not a formal wedding.

You groaned and raised the duster up to show her you knew that you had been assigned to dusting patrol which was personally your least favorite thing to do. You always got side tracked by books you wanted to add to your reading list.

    "I'm going. I'm going," You say as you shuffle your feet over to the first shelf. "By the way how many people are you planning on inviting. Between the both of you I'm sure at least a hundred people will be there." You say as you start to dust the shelf trying to hold back a sneeze as dust flys towards you.

    "I'm not sure yet. Kento and I want to keep it relatively small but the last time we talked about who all we wanted to invite we were already at a hundred and fifteen people." Emi said as she kept scrolling.

    "So much for small." You say as you look out to see the rain falling harder than it had been a few minutes prior.

    "You're telling me. Kento said he'd be stopping by soon to see if we had enough dinnerware for the wedding. We figured we could use what we have here. I'll ask him then how many people. I'm not looking forward to seeing some of his cousins. Compared to Kento they get unruly when they drink too much. I almost want to have a dry wedding but you know I'm going to need a few in me to have all those people staring at us all night." She said as she rested her head in her hand as she made a few clicking sounds on her mouse pad.

    "Are they really that bad? They can't be worse then we are. You remember the last time we went to The Black Out right? Kento refused to talk to us until we scrubbed the hundreds of dicks we drew all over his face when he woke up the next morning." You say and chuckle at the memory.

    "Oh trust me they are much worse. Getting drunk is the only way I'll be able tolerate them." She says as she grabbed one of her pigtails that has dropped over her shoulder and got in the way of her keyboard. She threw it over her shoulder as she started typing again.

    "I second that. I'm going to need to be hammered if I'm going to be dealing with Gojo all night." You say as you make your way dusting other parts of the shelf.

    "Why do you hate him so much again?" Emi asked looking up from her laptop to see you stiffen.

    Before you could answer the door flew open which caused the bell to ring out and caught both of your attentions. Kento walked in as he tried to fix his umbrella that clearly hadn't been able to withstand the winds of the storm. You both giggled at his disheveled look; his yellow and black tie had been flung over his shoulder. His glasses were covered in rain water while his taupe blazer had been left open by accident. This caused his cobalt blue shirt to come untucked due to the high winds and his taupe colored pants were soaked from the shin down.

    He looked like he had been to hell and back. You watched as he walked forward and placed his wet deformed umbrella into the holder as best as he could near the door. He straightened out his hair but before you could tease Kento you noticed the figure behind you. You felt your whole body run hot then cold because you recognized that snow white hair anywhere. Blue eyes looked up from his phone and a smirk painted across those rose tinted lips; those eyes moved away from you and towards Emi.

    "Emi!" Satoru exclaimed as he closed his umbrella and put it in the holder next to Kento's umbrella. The storm didn't seem to touch him compared to friend. "Long time no see." He said as she came around the counter to greet him.

    "If I knew the storm was going to be that bad I would've told you to stay in the office." Emi said as she leaned up and kissed Kento on the cheek.

    "I wanted to get out of the office and Gojo refused to take no as an answer." Kento said as he placed his hand on the small of Emi's back. "Plus I need to double check if you have what we need."

    "I'll show you to the back then. How many people are we inviting again?" Emi asked as she made her way to the back room where you kept everything from plates and cups to extra bookmarks and magazines.

Before Kento walked to the back he turned to Satoru and you knew Kento was narrowing his eyes at Satoru by the sound of his voice.

    "Behave." Is all Kento said before he turned to wave at you, then proceed to follow his fiancée to the back.

You almost wanted to beg them not to go because you couldn't remember the last time you were alone with Satoru. You sighed and turned your attention back to the next bookshelf to dust. Maybe if you kept busy he wouldn't notice you.

    "Well, well, well if it isn't my little peach." You heard Satoru call out to you.

Maybe not.

    You never wanted the earth to swallow you up more than right now. Out of all the times for there to be a storm to slow down customers from coming in why did it have to be on a day that you had to see Satoru. You couldn't help the hatred that poured out of you; you rolled your eyes and looked over to him. He hadn't changed one bit since high school other than the fact his sunglasses he always wore were now tucked into his blazer pocket. He still towered over you at an astonishing six foot three and you hated how small you felt under his gaze whether you wanted to or not.

    "And if it isn't Mr. Douche bag. I just ate lunch you know? After seeing your face suddenly I feel like I'm going to puke." You huffed out as you fixed a few books that seemed out of place.

    "Ouch. Still as bitchy as ever I see." He said and leaned against the shelf you were cleaning.

    Now that he was closer you could smell the expensive cologne that you wanted so badly to hate but had to admit made him smell exhilarating. He wore an all black suit that only seemed to make his distinct eyes and hair stand out even more. Black blazer, black slacks, black tie, black leather shoes. He reminded you of a black hole that would cause so much distraction but your younger self wouldn't hesitate to dive right in. Your present self was faced with the supposition that you might want to dive in even now despite everything.

    "Why don't you take a picture so you can drool over me in private. Have you no shame peach?" He said as he looked you over.

    His eyes running from your beat up vans that you wore religiously and up your curvy thighs in the ripped jeans that wasn't tainted by food coloring yet. His eyes moved to the green and white stripped apron you had wrapped around your waist because your favorite one needed to be washed. Your white t-shirt that now made you feel shelf conscious with the v-cut that might be showing off a little too much cleavage. Usually you'd use those to your advantage to get a little extra tips but now you felt exposed to him. His blue eyes looking at your lips before finally looking into your eyes. You could feel the way your face heated up at the intense gaze you found yourself under as if he still saw you as the little desperate girl in high school.

    "Fuck you Gojo." You scoff as you clutch onto the duster in your hand.

    "I know you want to. I'm sure you've fantasied about it since high school." He teased and you knew that sinking feeling all too well. He just continued to confirm that you were delusional to think he would look at you the way you wanted him to.

    "Why'd you follow Kento like a lost puppy to the shop. I'm sure there's a dumb little assistant back at the office waiting for you." You say as you push past Satoru to walk over to a near by table. You shove the duster in your back pocket as you try and tidy up the table that didn't really need it but you didn't know what else to do.

    "Aw, do you envy all those assistants I get to bend over my desk and fuck," He mocked you as he followed close behind you. "You know that shade of green is unflattering on you peach."

You turned so quickly as you bucked your chest up against him. He might be taller than you but you weren't the helpless little girl you use to be in high school. You had vowed since then that you'd speak you mind no matter what.

    "How could I possibly be jealous of another stupid women falling for your cheap tricks. Besides how many divorces are you on again? From all the rumors I heard your precious Hina left you. I wouldn't talk so much shit for someone who was left with nothing." You lash out which only causes him to narrow his eyes at you. He placed both his hands against the table caging you in as and he lowered himself closer to you.

    "For someone who hates me so much you sure know a lot about me. Keep fooling yourself all you want but you and I both know you loved hearing about the divorce. I wouldn't talk so much shit for someone who'd love to be my next little wife. Isn't that right peach?" He breathed. He was even closer than before and the mixture of mint gum and that cologne drowning your senses again.

Before you could respond there was someone clearing their throat which caused you both to look over to see Emi, who had her hands crossed over her chest, and Kento standing close by with a smirk spread across his lips.

    "Sorry to interrupt this little lovers quarrel you have going on but I think now would be a good time to tell you both that Kento and I just decided that we still have so much to complete in the next seven months and we can't do it all by ourselves. We thought we could ask for your help but maybe we should ask someone else." Emi said firmly which caused you to push past Satoru again.

    "I'm sorry Emi." You softly said as you played nervously with some loose threads from your apron. "I'd be more than happy to help you both. We promise to be on our best behaviors to make sure this is the wedding you deserve. Right?" You said the last word through gritted teeth as you looked over at Satoru who was smiling at you then at Emi.

    "We haven't seen each other in so long and you know how much I love to tease my friends." He said as he patted your head as you tried to fight the urge to slap his hand away which is the reaction he was looking for.

Friend? Far from it and you know that you liar. You said to yourself as you grabbed the duster from your back pocket and made your way back over to finish dusting the last shelf.

    "Wonderful!" Emi cheered as she clapped her hands together. "Now to go over what you we need your help with." She said as she made her way to her laptop.

This was going to be the longest seven months of your life.

©ᴅᴇʟᴜʟᴜ4ᴀɴɪᴍᴇ 2025 ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀɴɪᴀᴄ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴜꜱʜʀᴏᴏᴍ ᴊᴇʟʟʏꜰɪꜱʜ ᴇxʜɪʙɪᴛ

[emthephantom]

Tuesday-T.N (Part 3 of No One Noticed)

Theo Nott x F!Reader A new group of friends means your evenings are different, what's Theo's second reason? Warnings: None Words: 607 A/N: Hey ghosties, sorry for lack of uploads, school has been hectic and I have mocks next week. Also thinking of writing for Squid Game so I may have some works in progress. As always, enjoy :) Series Masterlist

Monday morning was the beginning of a new era. You had friends now as Theo said, but it didn’t take away the surprise when you heard a sharp knock on your dorm the next evening. 

You brush away the stray assignments that lay all over the room and walk to the door. Opening it, you're faced with the three boys from yesterday, each holding games and snacks. You move to the side, allowing them to enter your space. Theo looks around the room, taking notice of your organised nature but there’s no clutter; unlike his dorm which was littered with old photos and memories.  

You eye the boys closely as they get comfy on the floor, setting up a variety of muggle board games. Theo taps the spot next to him, inviting you to join, ‘Games night, so we could get to know each other better,’ he explains as he hands everyone the monopoly money, 'Hope you’re ready for some competition cara mia.’ 

The snacks are opened and shared amongst everyone, ‘Hope we got the right ones, we stole anything we could get from the kitchens.’ Mattheo says, crunching on the crisps in his hands. 

‘It’s perfect, thank you.�� you reply, picking at your nails. Theo softly grabs your hands pulling them away, sending you an understanding nod.  

‘I call the dog!’ 

‘Enzo, when aren’t you the dog?’ 

Time flies by quickly and you feel yourself loosening up. Shouts about paying rent and buying properties fuelled the regret in your mind, you should have made friends earlier. You’re snapped out of your thoughts when Theo reminds you it’s almost your turn. He quickly returns to his conversation with Mattheo, grumbling about his loss. Confidence builds inside you as you turn to Enzo, 'Get ready to give me all your money Berkshire.’ 

‘What makes you say that Y/L/N?’ he teases back. 

‘You just rolled a seven, look where you land.’ Enzo’s eyes widen as he realises, he landed on your property, the most expensive on the board. ‘Y/N, how could you.’ he exclaims, reluctantly handing you his remaining bills. Theo and Mattheo exchange glances before bursting into laughter, you swiftly joining them. 

Theo pulls out a plastic crown and places it on your head, ‘I crown you, Y/N Y/L/N, the winner of this monopoly game.’ You giggle more before standing up and giving them a short curtsy. ‘I’d like to thank my loyal subjects for allowing this to happen.’ you say poshly.  

You sit back down as Theo brings out the next game, Operation. You grin with excitement, recognising the game. You all played, laughing and teasing each other at your failures. It was a great time and you wished you could live in this moment forever.  

Unbeknownst to you, Mattheo captured many pictures of the night with his muggle camera, winking at Theo as he did so. 

After many more games, it was time for them to go.  They all promised to come back soon to win back the crown. Agreeing immediately, you captured them in a hug saying goodbye. The two boys leave, but Theo remains.  

‘How are you feeling?’ 

‘I’m actually okay, this is the first night where my head wasn't swarming,’ you admit, ‘Thank you for coming.’ 

‘Second reason, you easily connect with people, not many do, yet it’s the easiest thing for you.’ 

Your heart flutters at the second reason and you engulf him in a hug, bidding him a good night. The door clicks shut and you fall onto your bed. You look over at your desk, the crown sat delicately atop your books- maybe you’ll have more to look forward to. 

Taglist: @nottinmyheart

[bikananjarrus]

i have a few thoughts about how the lost hero actually sets up the darker tone for HoO really well and then. well. there was never any follow through.

now some of my hindsight about TLH is probably fueled by nostalgia (i actually am really fond of tlh and also i was 14 when i read. impressionable on my teen brain). i’ve reread it several times, but i have really strong memories of the first time i read the book too, and i just remember it having a very gloomy, dark vibe to it. (the way that TTC is set in winter and definitely feels like a winter book, this is the HoO equivalent for me.)

looking at the actual contents of the book, the book starting off with jason's pov, who has no idea who he is, so immediately the feeling is 'oh shit. something happened to this guy. and it's not good.' and then almost immediately after that, getting sucker punched with the “she's been looking for one of our campers, who’s been missing three days…her boyfriend. A guy named percy jackson.” percy??? thee percy jackson. MISSING???? (look, that put 14 year old me flat on the floor. it still hits. but in 2010 when we had no idea percy was going to even be in these books….you kinda just had to be there okay.)

alongside jason, we have piper, whose dad got kidnapped by a giant and she'd being blackmailed! all before she finds out she's a demigod!! like she's already having a ROUGH time. we find out leo was manipulated by gaea to use his flame powers, which resulted in the fire that killed his mom (genuinely wtf).

their quest starting the lead up to the second great prophecy, which is happening so soon after percy's great prophecy (like they JUST finished fighting a war. give them a chance to breathe dammit. but also implying that some major things stirred with the defeat of kronos. But how could there be something more horrifying than kronos?).

their quest taking them to all these abandoned and/or cold places (the run down wolf house, they're hiding in the sewers at one point, the cyclops lair in that abandoned warehouse, the cave where they shelter from the cold and where the hunters of artemis find them, boreas’s house being in canada, even the mall where they meet medea being empty iirc). jason being abandoned by his mother. piper feeling abandoned by a father who doesn't have enough time for her. leo being alone too (not his mom's fault she died; not his fault for the fire; but he's alone nonetheless). even their primary mode of transportation being flying on festus feels strange and out of the place, bc for so long, we were seeing through percy's eyes and he had to stay on the ground.

and then to end the book with jason dying, however briefly. literally a dead man walking from the very beginning.

the tone was something different and darker, and combined with percy, hazel, and frank going to alaska, the land beyond the gods, in SoN, we were really venturing into unknown territory. it felt like our heroes would be tested. that gaea truly was something to be feared, even more so than kronos, and that it would take the generation's seven greatest demigods to defeat her.

and then it never followed through with that set up.

[riewritten]

34 DUSK IN THE BRIGHTEST (BONUS)

DUSK IN THE BRIGHTEST | chapter directory

erwin smith/fem!reader, erwin smith/you | slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff & smut, mutual pining, canon AU, college/univ AU, professor erwin smith, commander erwin smith, non-linear narrative, manga spoilers

Plot: It was always the nightmares, really. Entrapped with walls, human-eating giants, fighting through metal strings and swords – utterly violent, dreary, recurrent. But behind the blurry faces was a man with menacing blue eyes and vivid features; eventually appearing before you as your new reputable professor, Erwin Smith. Since then, the disaster had slipped beyond your subconscious. AO3

Author's note: Happy new year! Here's the long-standing bonus chapter of this dear fanfic, events set post-epilogue and based upon the lovely requests my readers had back when this story was still ongoing.

In your little brother’s dream, you and he were still mere kids of convicted serial killers. A military police officer took you both in good faith—at least until the chaos that changed your lives for good.

As you two waddled your little feet amid the dreary daybreak of Mitras, your little brother did his best to hold onto you despite the frostbite lurking on his skin like a plague. You gripped his hand just the same, desperate to feel his skin and not the other that tormented you, to be reminded that despite what had just transpired, you still had something to calm you down from the turmoil of your wrath.

“I’m hungry,” your poor brother whispered; it wasn't until he heard your stomach grumble after his remark that he retracted. “No, never mind.” Then his voice tipped into a tiny, meek apology. “I’m sorry.” Albeit the remorse in his voice was louder than ever. 

“No worries! We’ll find food soon. Don’t worry.”

He explains your assuring smile and buoyant voice as something extremely out of place. In the narration he had given to Erwin, he described it as something immensely worrying—horrifying, even. He also said that a normal person might perceive you as one trying to be strong despite what just happened to you, but your brother could, in fact, see the sheer emptiness in your eyes that day; he could see the wrath that’s been trying to hold itself all thanks to the warmth of his frostbitten hand. 

But then again, with a shaky voice and eyes down the ground, he told Erwin that despite the shivers running down his spine, he opted to hold your hand tighter instead. He had chosen to gulp his lamentations and fury down his throat. This is, after all, the first time in his life that he has felt scared of you.

The soft hiss of the kettle fills his office along with your exasperated sigh. That's when Erwin notices that you’ve finished reading your brother’s narrative, which Erwin helped to write.

“What a strange thing this is,” Erwin muses. “Unlike us two—who only got to have a vivid recollection of the most important events in that world—your brother seems to have been reliving his day-to-day life back there, as if sleeping here means waking up on his bed at Paradis.”

The scent of chamomile then wraps the whole room, his old books, and ink-stained papers included, which almost triggers a nostalgic bliss on your end. After all, a session like this in Erwin’s office brings you back to the days when he helped you deal with your nightmares in this same manner. 

It’s just that you can’t seem to be giddy right now, not when you two are dealing with your brother’s nightmares this time around.

A boy merely the age of seven who can barely go to school because of how dreadful it is to cope with the memories of another world all the while dealing with this new one you had made—nothing but his tiny body and naivety at hand. How poor. This is not the life you had promised him the first time you met each other in this world. 

“Is this approach working?” You inquire in worry. “Aren’t we just putting a strain on him by making him write all this?"

“Too early to judge, if I’d be honest,” Erwin replies. But his voice, resembling the Commander ruminating about his strategies, becomes none when he holds your hand. “Don’t worry too much. We’re doing all that we can for him. And he seems to be responding to the psychologist you referred to just well.” And just like that, he's back to being your fiance, helping you get through the hurdles of the burden you carry in this world, just as he always does and will.

You let out another sigh, but more of relief than exasperation. Just a few minutes ago, the sound of the brewing tea felt out of place; the clock ticked in an offbeat rhythm that irked you so much; and amid the supposed calm of the chamomile is a breath held too long in a paper where your brother's worries have festered.

How calming it is when you finally look up at this man, your beloved Erwin, with his gentle blue eyes staring at you with devotion and reverence? 

Your hands cup his cheeks; his eyes soften further. Your thumb glides on the expanse of his cheeks, soft and familiar to your loving touch.

“What's on your mind?”

“I need to tell you something. But I would like to apologize first. I thought keeping it to myself would be for the better.”

“Then that's on me,” Erwin returns the gesture. He cups your cheeks, squeezes them with his broad hands, and then he adds, “What have I done wrong that you start keeping things from me, huh?” And yet his tone is still light, non-accusatory, almost teaseful even.

It makes you more guilty.

“I told you before that... his school doesn't like his continued absences, right?”

“Hm, and?”

“And, uh, I went to meet the principal personally a few months ago... to personally talk to him and settle stuff..." Oh god, how can you even start this talk?

“Is the principal someone we know from the other world...?" ”

“It's that man.”

Quickly, Erwin's face falters. Still, he tries to recon, “By that man, you mean...”

"M-Murdoch... that damned-in-the-head soldier who took us in back in that world—the same old man you helped me kill.”

Erwin's face darkens. One blink and you'd perceive him as the dreadful Commander again. But when he asks, “How did that make you feel?”With his thumb gliding ever so softly to your cheek, you almost have the urge to cry.

How easy it is for Erwin to just melt your mask away, indeed?

“Oh, oh no,” Erwin's worried face as he starts wiping your tears away has made you crumble even more. “Tell me how you feel, darling.”

“I feel disgusted,” you sob. "I-I'm starting to think that even in worlds beyond, the mark he had imprinted on me and my brother persists just the same. That I'm meant to be tormented by him because I chose to exist, and... And..."

“And that's not true,” Erwin cuts you off, the talk of whether or not you deserve to exist still a non-negotiable matter on his end. “I refuse to have that man define your existence. You know the lengths I have gone in Paradis to ensure that.”

Oh, yes. Yes, you do. 

No need to fret too much; this man will do everything in his power for you, for your loved ones, and for your very existence to persist the way it deserves to be—to not be once again held by the shackles of specific people who had made you feel horrible, in this world and beyond.

“You know it, right?”

You let out your last sniffle before sternly adding, “Don't kill him.”

And there, Erwin's serious face swiftly turns light again. He laughs and shakes his head, suddenly endeared by your command.

“That solely depends on him, if I'd be honest.”

“Erwin.”

“Shh, I won't, I won't.” He kisses your forehead, marking his assurance. “Now, be a dear and tell me everything that had happened the day you two talked.”

Since that confession, the three of you followed a nightmare protocol that takes place every breakfast—a time when dreams are still fresh and you have to debrief otherwise it ruins the day.

The routine is grounding yourselves first thing as soon as you wake up (faster if someone’s already awake to help). Once rational enough, the three of you can have two options: write it all down on your designated notebooks located at the bedside table or talk it out during breakfast—which in this case, the listener would be the one to jot it down on your behalf.

There are key points to be answered during the debriefing: the sensory descriptions of the nightmare, your thoughts, your feelings, and most important of all:

How is it different that dream was from the world you're living in right now?

Because then, once the three of you discern that very aspect, you'd be able to face the day with relief regardless of how bad the nightmare is.

It's not linear, though. Take, for example…

"Eight-meter class… mhm…" you mumble, "...from the east."

"Eight-meter class of what?"

You frown at the questioning Commander. "Y-you piece of—” to ask such a question during a crisis is just— “you should've just killed me… ugh, kill me now."

Then suddenly, a futon pops out of thin air. How comical, even more so when you snuggle into it just quick. You hear Erwin's weak chuckle from behind.

"Are you the Commander she's talking about?" your brother asks from behind—a child version of him, rather. "She's always saying 'Commander' every sleep talk beside me."

"Really? What more does she say?"

"Many things. She sounds like a mother berating a reckless child."

You stand confused at the conversation unfolding before you. Note that there's still an eight-meter class titan running towards you as the three of you speak.

Erwin then asks your brother, "Is it causing you disturbance?"

"Yeah, she's quite noisy and always frowning," the kid sighed. "Sleep is supposed to relax you but it does the opposite to her. Not that I don't understand, though…”

“Yeah, you behave the same and your sister's the one to calm you down, no?” Erwin then dearly ruffles the kid's hair.

Oh, okay.

This is all a dream. The eight-meter class titan soon dissipates and your vision turns black. Slowly but surely, you gather the needed reflex to barely open your eyes. Your boys continue to talk, not noticing you at all.

Erwin interposes, "But then again, if you're that bothered then bring her back to me already. She's been sleeping in your room for a month now."

"Are you jealous?"

"You're just pretending to be afraid of the dark.”

"I am afraid of the dark!”

"Oh? Then the only way to rule fear is by confronting it, don't you think so?”

"You don't say that to my sister regarding utensils!”

"And don't dare tell her that,” Erwin cuts the young boy off as if he just uttered a cuss word. “She's an exception to the rule and yet still doing so well.” 

When Erwin's loving gaze lays upon you again, you quickly close your eyes and feign asleep. You love moments like this, after all. Catching these two talking about you while you're out of it makes you feel adored. Absolutely adored.

"See? You're spoiling her! Why would I give my sister to someone who's spoiling her?"

Erwin, in a small retaliation, flicks the kid's forehead. "You can't give something you don't own," then his broad hands land on the crown of your head. He caresses it out of habit. "She's the one supposed to own things in this world—the one who owns us. She’s the reason we exist in this world."

Much to how genuinely endeared Erwin is in that remark, it does more than draw you in. It doesn't take long for the uninvited memories to kick in and blur your senses. Your eyebrows crease, your breathing deepens as you hear your mother's words.

“But I hate this world. I loathe it. And having to see those conversations, picking up the clues, and realizing you're the reason this happened—just right after I tried to get along with you again."

You try to open your eyes but to no avail, confused why when you were just pretending to be asleep a few minutes ago. The confusion then turns to annoyance. It annoys you, really, because regardless of how random the exchange is, if your brain decides that it reminds you of that day, it really will make you relieve every single thing.

"Is that why my brother never got to be born?” The realization daunted you. You’re the reason he’s gone again. “Is there a way I could change it?"

Your pained expression is what snapped the two from their daily bantering. Apparently, you whispered some of your mother's words weakly. Just as if you’re there again, just as if your mother is holding a knife at you again.

"She hadn't done that in two months," your brother's breath hitches, "and now that I think of it, her sleep talking became more frequent during the past weeks. I wonder if something is stressing her out."

Erwin attempts to rationalize it inside his head. He wouldn’t have known that; you’re always sleeping with your brother. But why? Why would your nightmares about that day recur again?

It is until the lightbulb in Erwin’s head finally lights up. Of course. How could he brush that off?

Amid the struggle with your little brother, the two of you have also been trying to find leads on that tree only to no avail. In hindsight, Erwin has taken that as an opportunity to rest and savor the peaceful time in its wake.

And if he'd be more honest? Despite a very unlikely attitude for someone as earnest as him, his desire to give you every possible peace in this world led him to actually avoid the matter at hand.

He might've done it the wrong way, he realizes just now in guilt.

"Well, this calls for my dibs then. She's staying in my room tonight." Erwin wraps you up with the futon and then carries you in his arms; your brother sighs in defeat.

"Just so you know, I still don't favor you for my sister."

Erwin stays still; his back facing your brother—unreadable for the sulking boy.

“That I know.”

"She's too good for you."

"I know,” his voice is weaker this time around.

Erwin knows—he knows it too well, he fears. Your brother might've been so fond of him way back in Paradis, but unlike you, who thought he was too naive, the Commander had discerned how sharp he actually was. Your brother was smart enough to separate his admiration for him from the want to protect you with all his heart; he was smart enough to recognize that if there's someone who can take care of his sister and vice versa, that would and must never be the ruthless Commander.

"Your sister's happiness happens to be divided into two. Perhaps we could ally instead."

Now riddled with guilt at Erwin's sudden poignancy after his sulking, your brother then stays silent.

"Don't worry," Erwin faces him briefly, "I know how undeserving I am for the role, more than anyone could.”

All set and wrapped, he buries your head in his neck then starts walking to the room without a word.

The heat of the futon and Erwin’s soft scent on the mattress eventually eases the nightmare away.

You are awoken with his fingers gliding over your cheeks, a learned habit and perhaps a gesture for you to be aware that you've been crying and groaning while asleep. Despite the lack of a smile, the solace of his touches dissipated the dread of whatever you've been dreaming about.

"What's up?" you groggily hum, cup his cheeks, and give him a short kiss—or supposed to.

Because Erwin immediately draws you further to deepen the kiss. He glides his lips alongside yours, tongue eventually in, all for fitful sake to tip the intensity and feel you more.

"Sleep with me tonight," he implores as soon as he's out of your mouth.

"But my brother—"

"He agreed," despite the subtlety, you can see that he's desperate for it. "Sleep with me."

His arm lay draped over your waist, a quiet assurance on his end despite the dread.

After a while of staying silent, you whisper to Erwin. “As long as you want, my love.”

Erwin's face stays unchanged, but you can see it. In his half-closed eyes, you can see the dread dissipating just a tiny bit.

And so you try more, "You'll feel better soon enough, though. It's Sunday tomorrow, we can go to the library you talked about yesterday, and we can eat at the restaurant downtown with—"

His chuckles cut you off, “Bold of you to comfort me when it's you who just had a nightmare.”

“Oh, come on. Indulge me!”

“Okay…” He raises his brows, then, not long when he dips in character. "What if I don't feel better even then?"

"Then we try it again the day after. And the day after that,” you kiss his cheeks. “In fact, we just say it again and again until it really does become better.”

“Ah… my pretty soldier, such a smart problem solver,” he teases.

You giggle in return, “Your love has softened me.”

Days pass, and it really does become better. The nightmare protocol persisted until it bore fruits. The fruits of your labor eventually pave the way to preparing your actual wedding.

It's just that Hange and the others want to meet you before indulging in the wedding preparations.

You've met them in Paradis, why are you shuddering at the thought of it? You're lucky Erwin knows you head to toe, your jitters included, hence he stayed with you all throughout the flight. And after ringing Hange's doorbell, he squeezes your hand assuringly and kisses your cheek. 

You thought what would daunt you upon opening the door was the dreary Scout barracks. But when Hange's grin flashes behind the door, you're suddenly stunned to speak. They all look too… normal? Happy? 

Erwin takes your silence as a chance to introduce you to them, “She’s the one I'm talking about.”

Erwin is about to say more but Hange engulfs you in a hug, “So she’s the pretty girl that made Erwin a mawkish smiling bastard? Oh dear!” When they withdraw from the hug, they hold onto your shoulders. “You’re way cuter in person! Levi was such a bad picture taker and we only managed to get stolen shots from you, usually with Erwin smiling creepily beside!”

You then glare at Levi who's already inside the door, "Hey, you take pictures of me without asking permission?"

Instead of answering, Levi pushes Hange away from you and places a cold beer can on their forehead, “You forgot the baseline human decency of introducing yourself first by muttering your name and shaking hands with her.”

“Oh!” Hange sheepishly chuckles. “Sorry, I was just too thrilled seeing you! I’m—“

“Hange, yes. I know.” You then shake their hand. 

“They told you about me?”

No, actually not. Erwin never explicitly mentioned their name to you, at least in this world.

Still, you lie. “Yeah, Levi told me how you annoy him every single time.”

Levi shoots you a glare, Erwin lets out an almost inaudible snort, and Hange believes it just well.

Oh, only if you knew you'd enjoy their company so much to the point of inebriation. Levi's almost horrified, and Erwin never thought you could be more adorable than he already thought you were.

"You better produce a commendable result at your science experiment this time, Hange!" your voice cracks midway, "I'm not sweating blood and tears kissing nobilities' asses only for you to slack off!"

"Thank you, thank you! Gosh, I don't know what to do without you!"

Hange has no idea what you're talking about, but the alcohol helps in believing whatever you're on.

They engulf you in a hug and add, "But oh, you silly goof, asses are dirty. Do you wash your mouth afterward?"

"I don't. The Commander gives me a lot of tasks that I can't even fix my hair anymore," you chug another bottle out of resentment.

"Commander who?"

"Where is he…" you dart your eyes all over the place and when you see the man in question at the kitchen counter—a hand on his forehead and holding a laugh, you beam. "There you go! Having fun at my suffering again, I see!"

Levi, who's standing just beside him, empties his glass then grabs his phone. "I must have another material to plaster on this woman's hall of shame."

"Hey, Commander Erwin!" Hange shouts along with you. "She's too pretty to be treated like this! What an asshole!"

"She is. I apologize."

Your head plops down the floor carpet. After wiggling your head a bit to settle yourself, you tap Hange. "You won't believe me when I say the Commander called me the most beautiful then kissed my forehead—god I can't believe he only went for my forehead—then slept next to me. We didn't do anything, though. Heh." You let out weak giggles before adding, "I got to sleep with the Commander. How's that."

"Okay, that's it," Erwin quickly rescues you from saying more. "I didn't know you were that disappointed with the forehead kiss. Let's put you to bed now."

Hange's inebriated mind has a completely different scene playing in mind, though. "You seem to have lots of fling during college, Erwin. Do you only kiss them on the forehead when sleeping on the same bed?"

Both of your eyes widen—yours with utter shock and his with confusion.

"I don't sleep on the bed with them. And I don't think they're a lot."

"How many?" you press on Hange.

"Uh, lemme count… One, two, uh…" Every finger Hange raises just subjects you to further shock, "I don't know. It's a common college joke that 'if you haven't got a crush on Erwin yet then are you even a student here?' or something."

"He slept with everyone?!”

Hange looks like nodding, really, until Erwin accidentally nudges the bottle beside him and spills it all over the carpet.

Hange screams in despair, "I just got this from the laundry!"

"Sorry, sorry," Erwin finally managed to make you stand. "I'll clean that up later. This lady is having her head drift to another dimension already. Gotta get her back here."

Indeed, it says a lot about how your eyes were fluttering already.

"You're not sorry, Erwin! You nudged on it intentionally! You should've just told me the talk about your flaming romances must be kept confidential!"

Levi settles on the couch before hitting Hange with a pillow. "Look around you. You had everyone waste themselves out in the living room. I'm quite surprised your big head didn't see carpet stains coming."

As Hange continues their loud blabbering with Levi barely keeping up with it, Erwin settles you on the balcony chair.

He crouches down so you'd be on the same level, then he taps your cheeks, "Still here?"

"Commander, you didn't tell me you slept with everyone." Okay, not here yet. "Clarifying that to the girl you claimed to fancy for years should be the baseline human decency before fucking her."

"I barely slept with anyone, love."

"Bullshit," you let your flailing head land on his shoulder before adding, "you look so good to not do that."

You can feel the heave of his chuckle as well as the vibration of his voice; there, you realize that you can sleep with this alone.

"Are you jealous?" You don't answer, which makes it a yes so Erwin laughs again.

He trails his hand to your fingers and taps on the ring you're wearing as if to make a point.

Your breath hitches at the realization.

"Still jealous, hm?" then he clasps your hands together.

"Holy shit.”

Erwin almost thinks you're back with that. Until you add, "When I told you to live with me inside the walls, I didn't know we'd have it this quick." Okay, still not back. "I don't want children yet, okay?"

And so, he just decides to play along. "But you look good carrying Marie's child. How about ours?"

You shoot your eyes open and exclaim, "That was so hot.” That's what will take you back?! "Say that again. I'll say no but still—say it again."

He had already established that you're the only one to decide on that matter, hence he'd never coax you. Also, the predicament of those people tied to both of you by blood due to your power isn't something to take lightly. What surprises Erwin is that you actually have a hidden pleasure in playing around with the matter at hand.

"So you find it hot to have me begging you for a child?"

"Sort of," you cup his face and grinned. "Want me to bear your children, hm?"

He hitches a breath then, albeit you're unsure if it's out of surprise or just a strained cackle, "Don't say that here."

"Here? Then what about other places?" you feigned surprise. "What if as soon as we get home, I—"

For some reason, he's having a hard time holding back the laughs. Maybe because he realized something as well.

"Okay, you can stop that one. Let's pretend on it once we get home."

"Oooh, I see, you find it hot to have me begging you for a child?" you repeat his question with a mock.

"Having too much fun, huh?”

"Yeah, too much." You land a chaste peck on his lips before wrapping your arms around him. You nuzzle your nose to his neck, a deep sigh out as he holds onto your waist. "I'm not afraid of disappearing after this life. Not anymore. I never thought I'd be this happy."

"Well, I'm still as greedy," he raises your head by cupping your cheeks. "See, if you're not drunk, we'll be making love right now."

"I'm not drunk. Let's do it."

"No."

"I'm feeling hot right now." You attempt to remove your clothes and he stops you amusingly.

"We're not doing it in someone's house."

“Yeah, please don’t do it inside anybody else’s home,” Levi interjects blankly.

“Indeed, Levi interrupting a good talk at the balcony, how familiar,” you scorn. If not for the alcohol you'd be a flustered mess right now.

“Are you drunk?”

"Mhm… no I'm not!” You are. “Are you, Levi? That'd be a waste. I was planning to talk to you about something important tonight.”

"No, not yet," he ponders. "But intoxicated enough to believe whatever bullshit you're about to spur right now as long as you two get your asses inside. The night's getting colder. I don't want you both spreading cold during your wedding.”

"Perfect." You laugh and sigh. Not long after, the smile on your face disappears. You intended to tell Levi the possibility as well. 

Levi asks you two to usher those who have passed out to Hange's bedroom. He forces Erwin to clean the carpet he intentionally sullied. And when the living room is back to its original state, Levi finally lets you talk.

The three of you sit beside each other, with your backs on the edge of the sofa and Hange's glass wall paving for moonlight to pass through. Thanks to that, Levi can register the dreadful revelation about your existence while taking in the gloom in your face. After all, this is something you cannot fathom to tell Isabel, Furlan, and Historia. You trust Levi to be the only one who'd take it stoically.

However, much to your surprise, Levi’s grip on the glass tightens while you talk. The faintest crack eventually spiders across its surface. He has to set it down carefully before turning to face you, his gray eyes unreadable.

“Levi…”

“So that’s it?” His voice is quiet, and yet it carries a weight that successfully presses against your chest. “You just… disappear?”

You nod, not trusting your throat to form words. The confession hangs heavily in the air between the three of you. You expect Levi to take it as usual, so when he presses his lips into a thin line and exhales sharply, you almost get the urge to cry like a guilty girl caught redhanded.

“All this time,” he says, almost to himself. “You know how this will end, and you didn’t say a damn thing? To me, no less?” His tone however, lacks disdain. You don't even see this as him scolding you. You can't even put it into words.

But sure enough, is the first time in a while you've seen him speak this way.

“I didn’t want to burden you,” you whisper faintly, a lack of confidence evident in your voice.

“Burden me? Of all people?” he blankly retorts, but the way he ran a hand through his hair says otherwise. Levi is frustrated. “Do you really think any of this would mean a damn thing without you?”

“I know… I've seen a world like this but without me. I know how sad it's gonna end up. That's why I'm grateful, you see! But then…” you bite your lip. “Erwin and I have been trying for ages, but we still can't find leads on the tree. Worse comes to worst, the tree might not even exist in this world anymore.”

And there, the whole room is wrapped into silence.

"Thank you," is what Levi manages to say after a long while. 

Levi rarely says thank you.

You remove the arm atop your eyes and look at him. His eyes are not on you but on the nightscape by the glass wall, and you can see the subtle but sheer lament on his face. "No one could thank you enough for doing that for us."

"Ever since I got conscious enough in this world, I knew I would do everything for you," you chuckle, thankful at the alcohol before having this talk; if not for that, you'd cringe at how sappy the mood is. “I wouldn’t be alive had Kuchel minded her own business and stayed away from my mother’s affairs.”

On Levi's end, had it not been for the alcohol, he wouldn’t realize he actually misses the days when all of you were still young—the childish sleepovers where Isabel would ask Levi to sit on the carpet so both of you could lay your heads on his lap. Isabel would make your nightmares as the reason. And Levi, albeit repulsed at the favor, would end up agreeing. He would caress your and Isabel’s heads until you sleep. Hell, sometimes he even ends up sleeping the night away with you two along the way.

Levi refills his glass, hoping to fill his tongue with the taste of the wine instead of the bittersweet memory.

"I don't mind if I cease to exist. I couldn't wish for anything more," you absentmindedly whisper at the two when you feel like you’re minutes away from drifting to sleep.

"Told you, Levi, she tends to say that."

"You will not disappear on us, though. Not anytime soon. Not in any world."

"Not like you will remember me in another world, Levi. Don't mind it too much."

Levi flicked your forehead, which earned a frustrated ow from you.

The venue was alive with a soft hum of anticipation, the warm light from the stained-glass windows bathing everyone in vibrant hues. On the other side of the room, there goes Isabel crying with a handkerchief that's not hers. Surprisingly, it is Historia’s gentle hand on her shoulder, offering a consolation that the two are yet to get used to.

“I didn’t think you’d cry this much."

“Shut up,” Isabel sniffles, half-laughing through her tears. “I didn’t think you’d… you know, be here.”

That Historia understands way too well. “We’ve been through too much to let things stay as they were. I’m glad we’re here now.” She hesitates before adding, “She... she said you like going outdoors now. Would you join me on a hike next week? It’s been a while since I’ve had company.”

Isabel nods quickly, much to her surprise. The rekindling bond brings a fresh wave of tears to spill. “Only if I can bring cookies.”

Historia laughs. How childish, she thinks. Only if it wasn't too adorable on her end. “Deal. Mind if I bring my girlfriend?”

On the other side of the room, there's you and a crying Furlan, whom all this time had always seemed so composed. He dabs at his eyes with a trembling hand before pulling you into a tight hug.

“You’ve come so far,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so proud of you.”

You giggle lightly, then eyes dart to Levi who lingers in the corner; his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the room. You approach him tentatively, steps hesitant until his eyes meet yours.

Without a word, he reaches out to deftly smoothen a crease in your dress.

“Your hair is all tousled, Levi. Did you not have enough time to fix yourself?”

“Dunno. Maybe I'll behave the same way once Isabel gets married.” He only shrugs then flatly looks at you before adding, “Let me do what I can do and stop asking for more.”

His words, uncharacteristic yet brimming with sincerity, have wrapped around your heart like a protective shield.

It gave you the needed courage to walk down the aisle without crying, especially when you finally see Erwin waiting at you in front with a smile so soft it makes you want to crumble then and there. His hair is parted on the side, cheeks slightly pink but eyes brimming with adoration.

His face no longer resembles a commander who carries thousands of corpses on his back. This day is the brightest he has ever been. Today, he's just the love of your life whom you crossed the world for. The way he's looking at you right now shows how aware he is of it, of how he will do the same for you if given the chance.

You both know a lot of things are still yet to happen after this momentous event in your lives. Once your brother is able to cope with his fair share of nightmares, you will proceed to embark on the mission to have your existence persist in all universes.

More, and more, and more.

You are perhaps way too aware that this will never be a linear happily ever after.

But you will not waver, not when the love of your life who shined like a morning sun amid the dusk is here with you.

previous chapter (explicit ver) OR (clean ver) | afterword

[ostensiblynone]

Melody Maker, 1st October 1994 Page 54 and Page 55 CONTROL ZONE: HI-TECH LOW DOWN Edited by Tony Horkins

AS salvage jobs go, Oasis' debut, "Definitely Maybe", is an extraordinary achievement. Within days of its release it had waltzed into the history books, becoming the fastest selling independent debut in UK history, with advance orders totaling 100,000. Recorded at a total cost of £75,000 using seven different studios, the album betrays few of the problems that dogged its tortured seven-month gestation. "Recording an album should never have been this difficult," reflects Noel Gallagher. "I was busy telling everyone it was the greatest record ever made but it was sounding like shit."

DECEMBER 17-20, 1993 "Supersonic" recorded and mixed by Dave Scott at the Pink Museum, Liverpool, Mark Coyle producing. The first Oasis single, the track was later re-Eq'd for the album.

Dave Scott: "Anthony from The Real People came down to the studio and asked Noel what he was doing pissing about writing indie shit when Oasis were supposed to be a rock'n'roll band. That's when "Supersonic" was written. Noel just started on the riff and they did it first take with him shouting the chord changes to the band as he went, and rapping lyrics off the top of his head which Liam later sang. That line ' know a girl call Elsa, she's into Alka Seltzer'— that was about my Rotweiller dog that kept farting. She's famous for it. The whole thing took eight hours from start to master. We had a very live set-up — 57s, 414s and 58s on the guitars and loads of level to tape. Noel's guitar sound is mostly room ambience."

Mark Coyle: "They had this f—in' brilliant old custom EMI Neve desk in at the time. It was like the old Abbey Road desk, and the EQ section was amazing — huge knobs, chunky faders and everything but the 1028 EQ section was great."

Noel: "The song just came out of nowhere and I knew it was a f—in' classic single as soon as we'd finished."

JANUARY 8-23, 1994 Monnow Valley Studios, Residential studios, Monmouth. First attempt at recording the album tracks. Producer Dave Bachelor, engineers Dave Scott, Mark Coyle, Anjali Dutt. (Trident TSM 40 desk, Studer 24-track Dolby AM series, JBL monitoring, Urei 1176 Limiters, Trident parametric EQs, AMS and Lexicon PCM 70 reverbs).

Noel: "The problems started almost from the beginning. It wasn't with the band, apart from our drummer, who's Ringo Starr incarnate and can't keep time to save his f—in' life. Dave Bachelor was trying to be clever. We're a rock'n'roll band and he was separating everything out, doing it clean and it was sounding too produced."

Mark Coyle: "It was a simple case of conflicting ideas between producer and band. The band weren't blameless, mind—they were using a lot of unfamiliar gear just cause it was there…amps, preamps, gadgets and guitars that Johnny had lent Noel. It ended up sound like just another indie band doing Oasis songs. Dave just wore everyone down to the point where the band clammed tight shut and the communication wasn't happening. He had everyone set up in their own area, separated and out of eye contact and he lost the feel. After the first week, when it was obvious it wasn't working, we moved everything into a smaller area of the studio and tried again."

Dave Scott: "I knew it wasn't working. Bachelor rubbed 'em up the wrong way and he wasn't spending enough time on the sounds themselves. When Liam dared to suggest that what he was doing sounded crap he freaked out. With what went down that day he was lucky not to have his nose broken by the band.

"The set-up itself wasn't that bad, though. We had a good selection of 57s and 58s on the kit, Noel's WEM Dominator amp sounded f—in' great, which we miked with an AKG 414 close up and then another to capture the room. We also used the Marshall JCM 900, I recall. The bass was Dld and the Ampeg amp was miked with a U47, and that went down really well. Bonehead was using my old Gibson SG, same one he'd used on 'Supersonic', and then his Epiphone semi. Noel was using his Epiphone Les Pauls and a few of Johnny Marr's guitars, including a Flying V which he used on 'Slide Away', I think. Although 'Slide Away' has Dave's name on it on the production credits, I remember him trying to slow it right down. His original version sounded very bombastic, very Pink Floyd, like 'Comfortably Numb'. Noel asked my opinion and I said they should play it at the speed they had when they first wrote it."

24-27 FEBRUARY Olympic Studios, Barnes. First attempted mixdown of the Monnow Valley tracks. Finished mixes included "Bring It On Down". Sessions abandoned after four days.

Mark: "The sound was piss weak at the mix. The guitars in particular had all the life squashed out of them. When we'd done monitor mixes at Monnow, Dave was saying we could fix it all in the mix and I think we all knew it was a more fundamental problem than that."

Noel: "I was arsed. I knew it wasn't right but I was that fed up with it all I'd begun not to care. I know that a song never comes out on tape the way it sounds in your head, but these mixes were so wide of the mark it was a f—in' joke. The demos were better."

Marcus Russell: "I listened to the mixes and it was sonically weak, like it was recorded 40,000 leagues under the sea. Dave Bachelor had neutered the band. 'Bring It On Down', the first mix, was almost bled to death. I said to Alan McGee (Creation records boss), 'F—, we've got problems.' He agreed, so did Noel and on the 27 February we abandoned the mix and went back to record the tracks again at Sawmills. Mark was perfect for the production, because he knew the band and their music from being their live engineer for so long."

Noel: "The only track that survived from the Monnow sessions was 'Slide Away', and that's because the performance was that special we knew we couldn't better it. Our Kid's vocals were never going to happen that way again."

23 FEB-4 MARCH Sawmills Studios Cornwall. (Trident Custom 80B with fader automation, Otari MTR 90 24-track AMs DMX, Yamaha Rev 1, Lexicon 480L PCM 70, Fairchild compression, Urei 176, Trident parametric EQs).

Mark: "Because I was their live engineer I knew we had to 'capture' this band rather than produce them."

Noel: "Talk about being isolated! sawmills is miles from f—in' anywhere — you had to get there by boat when the tide was in. We needed to get away from Manchester, London or Liverpool because of the distractions. We had all the tracks done and overdubbed inside 10 days, just whacked through them every day until we had the right takes."

Mark: "They had this amazing Trident console in there, an old series 80B (54-24-24) that had just the best EQ section ever, a load of those old Fairchild valve compressors and Neve limiters, and it just seemed to have a better vibe to it. My approach was to just set them up like they are when they rehearse or play live, where they can see each other, get that vibe going between them and power up."

Noel: "It was f—in' loud in there, no one had headphones on, we just blasted it out. I still have the ringing in my ears."

Mark: "There was total bleed from tracks and you got guitar on the drum mics and drums on everything, but who the f— cares? I'm a fan of that approach, the big fat analogue sound they used to get on Small Faces or Beatles records. Most stuff went to tape with plenty of level with a little EQ on the drums but essentially flat."

Noel: "Once the rhythm tracks were sorted I overdubbed all the guitar parts ane had a laff. We just put loads on there cause the ideas just kept coming."

7-8, 11-13, 16-22, 24-25 MARCH First mixdown of Sawmills sessions at Eden studios, London. Mark Coyle producing, Anjali Dutt engineering, Simon Wall assisting (SSL 4060E with G series Onboard, Total Recall, Studer A 800 24-track with Dolby 361s. Monitoring Quested 2X15s, AR18s, Yamaha NS10s and Auratones. Lexicon 480L, AMS RMX 16 Reverbs, Urei limiters, Drawmer gates and 1960 Valve compression). Mark: "I don't like SSLs much, I prefer a group of people around the faders working the desk and the sound of a good warm EQ section. SSLs make everything sound a bit weedy cause you lose quite a bit of signal in the EQ stage. The reason we went there was because Anjali [Dutt] knew it and had her favorite EQ with her from Battery studios."

Despite the quality of the performances Mark Coyle had captured at The Sawmills, The Eden mixes still proved unsatisfactory.

Marcus Russell: "Some of the vocals were a little shaky but I knew the performances were essentially there, they just needed sorting out. That's where Owen Morris came in. I knew him from his work with Johnny [Marr] and Electronic, and if anyone could sort it out he could.

Twenty-six-year-old freelance producer/engineer Morris is credited as the man who turned things around. His mixes of the Sawmill sessions make up the majority of the album. They include "Rock'n'roll Star", "Cigarettes & Alcohol", "Shakermaker", "Live Forever", "Up In The Sky", "Columbia", "Bring It On Down", "Sad Song", "Digsy's Dinner" and the remix of the original "Slide Away".

17-18 APRIL Out Of The Blue studios Manchester (TAC Magnum desk with Otari 24 track.) "Shakermaker" original Mark Coyle demo recording and "Cigarettes & Alcohol".

Mark: "'Shakermaker' is the original demo tarted up. It had such a brilliant feel we couldn't think about doing it again. No gate and none of this limiting bollocks on there, just maximum sound to tape."

23-24 APRIL Mixes of "Rock'n'roll Star" and "Columbia" by Owen Morris at Loco studios Wales.

2-3 MAY Final weekend of mix of the album's remaining tracks at Matrix, London. Owen Morris producing/engineering. Marcus Russell spiritual guidance and booze monitor.

Noel: "There comes a point where you just have to trust people. We were off on tour, rehearsing and the whole thing in the press was just going mental."

Owen Morris: "I just finished it all off really. I'd heard some of the monitor mixes of Monnow Valley stuff and it's best described as pretty strange. The Sawmills mixes were every odd too, still trying to be too clever. Things were gated and tidied up. It was very un-Oasis. I mixed 'Rock'n'roll Star' and Columbia one weekend, got Liam in to re-do the vocals and they loved it. We mixed the rest of the album in four days at Matrix!

"The biggest problem was the guitars. Noel would fill 10 tracks with stuff all the way through. If you put all the faders up it was a real mess. But by this time the band were that fed up they couldn't be arsed about which one to use, so I acted as producer and did it myself. I just got stoned and worked on arrangements. As you can tell from the album I go for the old Shel Talmy technique and compress the f— out of everything. The most obvious example of that is 'Columbia'. I put tape delays on the kits with a kind of Phil Spector or a Tony Visconti sound in mind. He had a great way of placing sounds, especially guitars. I ripped him off as much as I could, especially on Columbia.

"The actual set-up was pretty much the same for each track. In Loco there was an Amek Mozart and I hired in an Excel compressor and Mini Moog, which we used as a crude filter circuit. It takes off all the top so you just end up with a really fat bass sound. I used an A3 for a Leslie effect and a Lexicon to pitch change and basically shit-loads of compression on everything. The only real effects are imaging programs, stereo shifters and stuff to spread the guitars out. I ended up using a DSP 4000 on the vocals, and it sounded f—in' amazing. Myself and Liam actually took a weekend to re-do the vocals on five tracks—'Cigarettes & Alcohol', 'Bring It On Down', 'Up In The Sky' and a couple of others, using an old pencil-thin AKG that was apparently used on 'Sergeant Pepper'. That mic was perfect because it had natural compression. His voice went flat to tape through the DBX 160. On Liam's voice I put a little bit of anything that happened to be hanging about. There was very little EQing, though, except when I used the DSP 4000, because the anti-glitch program dulls the sound.

"The only real problems I had with the actual performances was the groove on the drums. The drumming was okay—he kind of starts then stops at the end of the song, but sometimes it lacked groove and he hasn't got a great sounding drumkit. I used a lot of subliminal tape delays on a Revox, eighth delays to create movement. As for Bonehead's rhythm tracks, he was brilliant on every single one! Unbelievably tight and solid to the point where you didn't worry about his stuff at all."

"'Cigarettes & Alcohol' was the last mix I did. I confess, I was that drunk and stoned at the end I just put the tape on and stuck the faders up, hence all the noise."

22 JUNE "Sad Song", the bonus track on the vinyl, recorded and mixed at The Windings, Wrexham by Owen Morris.

Noel: "When the vinyl cut of the album was done the grooves were so close, because of the album's length, that it didn't sound powerful enough. In the end we put it out as two 12 inches and we recorded an extra track to fill it up. I demoed the song live on a Radio 1 session then went into the studio the next day and banged it inside two hours using my Epiphone acoustics (Dreadnought 6 and 12-strings). It's my voice on there—Our Kid could never sing a song like that." (The mics used were an AKG 414 on the guitars with a B&K P48 on the room ambience, and a Neumann U87 on vocals. The desk was an Amek Mozart, the reverb was a medium room reflection on a Lexicon PCM 70).

Finally, although the exact date is lost forever in the foggy recesses of Mark Coyle and Noel Gallagher's collective consciousness, we do know the final track on the CD version of the album, the poignant acoustic number "Married With Children" was recorded in Mark Coyle's living room on a Fostex eight-track. Noel played his Epiphone acoustic, and the album was finished. . .

[23fallencomets]

love me gently (or not at all) pt viii

smaller chapter today chat, a lovely seven hundred word chapter where we get checo and oscar interactions, some background on oscar and kyle being kyle and hamilton-vettel pack being the hamilton-vettel pack 😁

It’s not often that Checo feels a sort of resentment towards his pack, but it’s been a week and there are still no signs of Logan. Logan wasn’t his pup, not when Jenson had claimed him as soon as he had entered the Pack House, but he was close enough that he feels Logan’s absence in his bones.

The others have been keeping busy with their own things, but at night, when the pups have been put to sleep and the house has become quieter, they slip into Checo’s den. They don’t all fit, some have to shift into their other forms, mostly Esteban and Lance who curl up in the corner, soft brown and midnight black coats meshing together. Franco, mostly in his human form, will curl around Checo. George and Alex claim the other corner, George curled into Alex’s side, his wavy, dark brown coat nearly blending in with Yuki’s, the smaller wolf curling up with them.

Checo glances over to where Oscar is, his coat lightly shimmering from the moonlight. Logan’s coat is blonde, soft and fluffy while Oscar’s is a bit darker, the tips a light brown. Usually when they lay together, you can’t see where one starts and he other ends.

He lets out a chuff, smiling slightly when he sees Oscar’s ear jerk back before it flops down. He twists his head to give Checo an unamused stare, eyes sad before he gets up, carefully walking over his sleeping pack mates and plops down on the space next to Checo.

He lays his head on Checo’s chest, looking all like the pup Checo met. Mark had paraded him around, a medium sized thing with the most unamused stare; Fernando had looked proud, like if he had personally birthed Oscar himself. Checo had met Oscar a few years before Logan, before Divide happened and Mark and Fernando were between packs. When they settled for this one, Oscar brought Logan over, love-struck and content.

Oscar paws at his hand and Checo chuckles, running a hand through his fur. If Checo remembers correctly, Logan should be in pre-heat as his heat should fully set in by nightfall of the following day. His heats were a little strange, sometimes they were sexual, other times he just needed his pack; the pups were great help, curbing his instincts and it was a great excuse for them to miss out on other world responsibilities.

Franco sniffs into his neck and with his other hand he gently pats his head of unruly curls. He feels Franco doze off again as something niggles at the back of his mind, feeling he’s missing something important as sleep finally makes him close his eyes.

☆☆☆

Kyle frowns as he soaks another damp rag. Logan was way too warm, even for pre-heat. Will is messing around with the nest, but seems agitated the longer he messes with it. Pato is the one who forces him to sit down, eyes narrowed as he puts the pillows and blankets back like Logan had them.

Logan is whimpering quietly, eyes scrunched closed and hands fisted in the blankets. Something isn’t right, anyone who can see Logan knows that. He knows it’s probably the fact that it’s Logan’s first heat away from his pack in three years, but even then, he’s hot to the touch and no matter how much they try to cool him down, his temperature isn’t budging.

He’s tempted to dump Logan into a cold bath, but that could send him into shock and that’s the last thing they need. When he places the second rag on Logan’s forehead—the other one had warmed up almost too quickly, concerningly—that it hits him.

“Oh my god,” He mutters, scrambling up and shoving the bowl over to Scott before he books it out the door. The other pack members jump out of the way as he newly breaks down Dixon’s door. Josef, Rossi and Alex are there, looking at him wide-eyed as Kyle’s mouth tries to catch up with his brain.

“The pups! Logan’s pre-heat will keep him in this state until he gets his pups.” Kyle manages to spit out, “His wolf and omega have bonded with the pups, he’s spent the last, what, seven-nine heats with them? He can’t get into his heat state because his omega hasn’t registered that the pups aren’t here. He also needs Oscar here, knowing those two, they’re probably properly bonded and don’t even know it yet.”

“Motherfucker.” Dixon growls, picking up the phone as Josef nudges Kyle into a chair.

Just when they think they’re getting somewhere with Logan, it all comes back to the Hamilton-Vettel pack.

And somewhere, three hours away, a phone rings out into an empty room.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 33

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 5k

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Saturday, January 9th; 9:15 AM - At Lucy's Place.

I gently hug the pillow against me, letting out a long sigh from between my lips. Negative thoughts immediately flood my mind, even though I've only just woken up. Sometimes, I wonder why I'm still alive. My life is so miserable that I doubt I'd be missed by many. I tell myself that the only thing that has saved me is my new life. I blink in this unfamiliar room, where I realize I'm alone in a large bed and a room that isn't mine. The events of last night come rushing back, reminding me where I am. I understand my earlier thoughts even better now. A muffled groan escapes my mouth as I realize that Lucy knew about my night terrors and that it’s not something new. Although she seemed calm last night, she must be upset with me for hiding things she didn't want hidden. I’ll have to face the consequences now. She must have held back last night because of my state, but I doubt it'll be the same this morning. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s waiting for me in the living room to discuss it. I check the time before forcing myself out of bed. Hiding from life by staying in bed is cowardly. That’s what my dad used to tell me when I was feeling down in Barcelona. I discreetly leave Lucy’s room and head down the hallway. Not seeing her around, I continue towards the living room. I smile when I find her standing with her back to me behind the counter. As I approach, I notice that she’s swapped her pajamas for jogging pants and a black t-shirt. When she turns around, she must be surprised to see me because she stops for a moment before finally smiling at me.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

“Hey,” I say timidly, blushing at the nickname.

“I didn’t expect to see you up this early.”

“I don’t sleep as long anymore…” I admit.

“That’s true,” she smiles. “I made breakfast. I hope you’re hungry.”

I relax for a moment, relieved that she doesn’t immediately bring up what happened last night.

“I’d never say no to breakfast,” I reply with a bit more confidence.

“Good. Sit down. What would you like to drink? Tea, hot chocolate? I imagine I don’t need to ask if you want coffee.”

“Hot chocolate, please.”

“Alright, I’ll make that for you. Sit down, everything’s ready.”

I nod gently and turn towards the dining table. Everything is indeed set out. It looks like she had time to prepare a real feast. I sit down, fidgeting in my chair. I’m not particularly comfortable, knowing what’s likely to be discussed soon around this table. Lucy joins me, placing my cup in front of me before sitting across from me with her own.

“Have you been up long?” I continue the conversation.

“Since seven-thirty. I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a run.”

“Oh! You’re brave…”

I distract myself by looking at the table. I don’t know where to look because there’s so much. She thought of everything. There are as many fruits as there are pastries and bread. She must have picked them up this morning. There’s also butter, jam, and even Nutella to go with it.

“Help yourself, that’s what it’s there for,” she invites.

I bite my lip and nod. I can’t bring myself to look at her, especially now that I remember we ended the night in the same bed… In her arms. Damn. Just thinking about it makes me even more uncomfortable.

“Ona,” she calls me, a touch of amusement in her voice.

I finally dare to lift my head and find her looking at me with her head tilted. I get the feeling she can read me like a book right now.

“I think it’s best we talk about it now, huh? I sense you’re going to go crazy before the end of the meal if we don’t.”

I blush, suddenly feeling really foolish. I can feel my heart racing with stress. Still, I nod to confirm what she’s saying. It’s best to talk about it now, to get it over with, even if it means she’ll chew me out properly. What surprises me is that Lucy is more relaxed than I expected. She almost seems to be teasing me. I take a deep breath before starting.

“I’m sorry for waking you up last night…”

My response makes her raise an eyebrow. It’s like she wasn’t expecting me to say that.

“Oh, so that’s all that’s bothering you?”

“Of course not,” I mumble.

“Relax. I’m not going to eat you, you know. Since when are you like this with me?”

Since I don’t want to disappoint you. That answer sticks in my throat. She doesn’t need to know that. Instead, I decide to be honest.

“I feel bad for hiding my episodes from you… Especially since it seems you already knew…”

“I did, yes. I was just waiting for you to come talk to me about it yourself,” she admits.

“Are you mad at me…?”

“A little. I think that if you hadn’t come here, who knows how long I would’ve had to wait for you to tell me.”

“I didn’t want to bother you with something so minor. You already do so much for me, and I was managing on my own until now. It frustrates me to have to turn to you every time something goes wrong with me,” I finish, averting my eyes.

My thoughts are so jumbled. I consider her a friend, but I don’t always feel like she sees me the same way. Sometimes, I feel more like her student and nothing more. It’s ridiculous because if that were the case, I wouldn’t even be here. She places her hand on mine, prompting me to look up.

“Stop thinking like that, it’s not true. I’m doing this as a friend, okay? Wiegman doesn’t ask me to solve your problems. I do it of my own free will because I care about you, and I feel the need to help.”

“It’s fine, I assure you… Everything’s okay for now.”

“Stop lying to me.”

“I’m not lying to you, it’s true. Since you came into my life, so much has gotten better! You have no idea how much you’ve helped me.”

She sighs, running a hand through her hair. She doesn’t seem to realize how deep of a hole she pulled me out of. The change is obvious.

“If what you’re saying is true, then you shouldn’t have any trouble confiding in me when you have a problem. That’s what helps you get better.”

“I do! I came to you when I didn’t know what major to choose. The same when I needed help studying.”

“I’m talking about real problems, Ona. Like your drug issue or your insomnia… See?”

“I do talk to you,” I sigh. “I told you about my problems with my mom and with Feli. You can’t deny that!”

“Maybe, but you’re always hesitant, and you often do it too late.”

“But put yourself in my shoes, damn it! You’ve never lived through what I’ve been through! It’s hard to open up when you’re not sure the person will still be there at the end!”

I freeze, realizing what I just let slip. I hate how easily she gets me to talk. I look up to see her expression soften.

“What are you talking about…?”

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. Now that I’ve started talking, she won’t let it go until she gets answers.

“How do I know we’ll stay in touch once all this is over, huh? I’m already scared you’ll drop me the day I don’t have any more problems to solve…”

“Where do you get these ideas?” she frowns. “I’d always be happy to talk to you, Ona.”

“They’re not just ideas. It’s already happening. You ignore me when I behave all week. If this keeps up, I’ll be tempted to mess up just to get your attention.”

“No, come on. I forbid you from doing that! I’m not ignoring you.”

“Yes, you are. Can you tell me how many times we’ve seen each other these past few days?”

“Ona,” she sighs. “Camp Wiegman is my job. I’m sorry if you feel like I’m ignoring you, but it’s not intentional. I have other things to worry about besides you, though I wish I could avoid them.”

“Sorry… It’s just that… Everyone I’ve ever trusted has a tendency to let me down or disappear… You’ve become the person who knows me the best, and… I really don’t want to lose you too.”

Her sympathetic smile makes me turn away. I don’t like being pitied, even though she rarely does it. A long silence follows. When I look back at her, I find her with a little playful look that makes me frown.

“This isn’t funny, I’m opening up to you here.”

“I never said it was funny. I just find it cute, that’s all,” she says with amusement.

“It’s anything but cute to be abandoned.”

“I would never abandon you, silly! Stop thinking that. If you want to spend time with me at school, nothing’s stopping you from coming to my office during your free time.”

“Really?”

“Of course. If I hadn’t suggested it before, it’s because I thought you preferred spending time with your friends.”

I sink into my chair, suddenly feeling deeply ashamed and foolish. I should have considered other alternatives before revealing my innermost thoughts to her. Now, she knows that she means something to me, even though I didn't necessarily want it to be that way. I feel weak and like I'm giving her the chance to hurt me.

"Hey," she pulls me out of my thoughts. "Everything's okay, alright? I'll always be here for you, no matter what. Never forget that. And if you need to come to me, don’t hesitate, okay?"

I sigh and nod. I wish I could believe it, but it's hard. She gives me a small smile that I struggle to return.

"Well... Can we talk about your nights now? I’d like to know when your first episode happened."

"The first one was the night between Wednesday and Thursday," I confess. "I'm sorry that the second one happened with you."

"Don’t apologize for that. I wanted to be informed so I could keep track of your condition. I was really disappointed to hear it from Alexia."

"You should know that I don’t like to bother people, which is why I didn’t say anything. You don’t need to keep track of this."

"Well, actually, I will be. I want to be notified during your episodes, and I will be, even if it’s not through you."

I sigh and cross my arms, showing my displeasure.

"We’ll find a solution, okay?"

"Okay..." I mumble. "Oh, and, um... Thanks again for letting me sleep with you last night."

"Was it okay for you?" she asks. "I offered it on a whim, but I forgot that you usually sleep only with Mapi or your brother."

My eyes fixate on the cup I had been fiddling with. I realize I hadn’t even had the chance to think about it for a single second, and that’s frightening. I've come to trust her blindly without realizing it. I actually care for her more than I thought. I shake my head slightly to regain my composure and clear my throat before responding.

"Uh, yeah... Everything was fine..."

"Good," she smiles gently. "It looks like you’re starting to improve, huh?"

I awkwardly return her smile and nod. She doesn’t seem to understand that this is all thanks to her.

"Well, now that we’ve talked, we’d better get ready. We have a busy schedule ahead."

I nod enthusiastically. This news delights me. I appreciate that she has planned something specifically for me. This afternoon will be a good way to clear my mind.

"I hope you’re going to show me your version of the city. I don’t want the tourist version. The monuments and all that stuff don’t interest me."

"Don’t worry about that, you can trust me. I’ll take a shower while you finish up. See you later."

She tousles my hair as she passes by to put her cup in the dishwasher, then winks at me before disappearing behind the sliding doors. The bathroom door slams shortly after. I finish my breakfast quietly, appreciating all these small gestures. Once done, I try to tidy up what I can and gather the rest so she doesn’t have to do it all. I then return to my assigned room. I open my suitcase, which has remained in place, to choose my clothes. I opt for a casual outfit with jeans and a shirt. I then make my bed and Lucy’s, thinking it’s the least I can do for her welcoming me so well into her home. It’s also the only way to show my gratitude. When I turn around to leave her room, I jump, not expecting to see her behind me. A wave of heat washes over me when my eyes fall on her body covered by nothing but a towel. Holy shit! I blush even more when I lift my eyes to meet hers. I turn my gaze away to try to hide, even though it’s probably too late for that.

"Sorry, I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought you’d be in the living room."

"Sorry. I... I had some time... I took the opportunity to... To make the beds and... And then..."

"No problem," she laughs at my embarrassment. "Can I get dressed now?"

"Y-yeah, of course. Sorry again."

I quickly leave her room, doing my best not to look at her again. I blush once more when I hear that small voice that sounds remarkably like Mapi saying, "See, I told you." It’s complete nonsense. I’m not interested in Lucy. And even if I were, it’s not meant to be. It’s a lost cause. To clear my mind, I head to the bathroom to get ready... Or maybe not. The steam Lucy left in the room reminds me of what I just saw. Once again, I think about the unhealthy ideas Mapi must be having on my behalf. What if she’s right? I shake my head vigorously at that thought. No, she’s not right, and I should probably strangle her for making me think such things. I’m not interested in Lucy, and I’m even less infatuated with her as she suggests. She’s just a friend... A friend I particularly care about. I splash water on my face to shake off this unpleasant theory. I then dry myself with a towel, which I find is already damp. I groan, imagining Lucy using it before me, and grab a new one. I then take my toiletries to brush my teeth, my hair, and finish with makeup. I’ve always kept it simple: foundation with cream, a line of eyeliner, and mascara. I pack everything up, making sure to take my bag with me as I leave.

"BOO!"

"AAAH! What the hell!" I shout at Lucy for scaring me.

I hit her on the shoulder, intensifying her budding laughter. I regret letting Lucy Bronze into my life so much. Her laughter is the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard, and I hate myself for thinking such a thing.

"Oh come on, it was just a joke."

"You’re really mean," I pout, pretending to be upset.

"No, I’m not," she laughs. "Why are you bringing that?" she finally asks, noticing my bag.

"I was going to put it back in my suitcase."

- Why don’t you just leave it here? It’s ridiculous to have to search for it every time. Look, you can leave it here.

Before I can counter her suggestion, she takes my toiletry bag and places it on the counter next to the sink.

- See, I’m organized enough to find a place for you, she teases.

- Thanks.

- Don’t mention it, she says as she pulls out her makeup. I should be the one thanking you for making the beds and tidying up the kitchen.

- Oh, it’s nothing... It was the least I could do.

- Are you ready?

- Yes, yes, I was waiting for you. What are we starting with?

- Don’t be so curious. You’ll find out soon enough.

The frustration and impatience grow within me knowing that I’ll have to wait to find out. On top of that, she announces that we’ll be driving a lot. Long car rides don’t usually bother me, but they might today.

- Okay, I’m ready, she says as she finishes with her mascara. We can leave. Do you think you’ll be warm enough? We’ll be walking a lot and it might be windy.

- Are you telling me I need to change? I ask, looking at myself.

- Don’t you have a big sweater?

- I have one, but not very thick ones. I spend my days in a fully heated classroom, remember?

- Take off your shirt, I’ll be right back.

I grumble but follow her instructions and take off my shirt. She returns shortly with a navy blue sweater, which must be hers. I put it on over my tank top as she advises.

- Is this better?

- Perfect, she smiles. We can go now. Also, take a big scarf.

- Are you taking me to the North Pole? I tease.

- Believe me, you’ll thank me tonight.

I stick my tongue out at her, which seems to amuse her. I put on my shoes, coat, and scarf in my room, then join her in the living room. She takes the time to examine me from head to toe. It seems that my outfit satisfies her, as she finds nothing else to criticize. She then opens the front door, and we use the elevator to reach her car in the basement. Before getting in, we remove our coats and scarves and place them in the back to be more comfortable for the trip. Once done, we leave the building to the sounds of Lana Del Rey. I’m starting to enjoy this CD from hearing it so much. The basement darkness is replaced by the white snow continuing to fall from the sky. The weather here no longer surprises me. I comment on this to Lucy, who has decided to be playful today.

- Is it because you’re humming that it’s snowing? she retorts.

- It’s not likely to be your fault since you never sing.

- Is that a challenge? she raises an eyebrow.

- Maybe. I’m still trying to figure out if you’re a stuck-up girl or not.

- You think I’m stuck-up? she huffs. Well, thanks, that’s nice.

- Well, you’re always so serious at camp. It makes you wonder.

- Stop calling it a camp. It’s a school!

- And you stop dodging the subject. Besides, I’ll call it a camp if I want to, I provoke.

- I’m not dodging, she giggles. Camp Wiegman is my workplace, so it’s normal that I stay serious, right?

- Yeah, maybe too serious for my taste. Especially with the rules, I grimace. Rules are meant to be broken.

- Oh yes, sure. I respect rules so much that you’re in my car right now, she says sarcastically. Maybe I should drop you by the roadside.

- You wouldn’t dare.

- Want to try and see? she challenges with a sly smile.

- Of course, I mock. You wouldn’t be able to anyway.

It’s well known that challenging someone in jest is a risky move, but I’m sure she’d never leave me by the roadside. At least, that’s what I thought until I notice where we are. To put it mildly, nowhere. We’re far from civilization, and we haven’t been driving for long. I start to panic when she surprises me by stopping by the side of the road.

- Get out of the car.

- Seriously? I was just joking!

- Can you trust me for once in your life? she laughs. Come on, get out.

I feel completely disoriented. Still, I unbuckle my seatbelt without thinking and get out of the car as she turns off the engine. Without saying anything, she climbs over the gear shift to take my place. I have a moment of reflection before she gives me the message by tapping the driver’s seat.

- You’re letting me drive? I ask with wide eyes.

- Yeah. You better not make me regret letting you drive my baby.

A beaming smile spreads across my lips. I quickly walk around the car before she changes her mind. I settle into the driver’s seat, not knowing where to put my eyes.

- Adjust the mirrors and the seat if needed, she commands.

I move the seat forward slightly when I realize the pedals are too far. I then adjust the mirrors under Lucy’s watchful eye. I smile as I caress the steering wheel and look at the dashboard.

- Are you comfortable?

- You’re really letting me drive? Aren’t you afraid I’ll mess up?

- I just hope you still know how to drive, she laughs.

- It should be fine...

I buckle up and wait for her permission to start the car. I feel nervous under her scrutiny. It feels like I’m reliving my early driving lessons. It’s been so long since I last drove, and now I’m behind the wheel of an Audi. Lucy’s Audi, no less. When I turn the key, I stall immediately, not noticing that she had left it in gear.

- It’s off to a great start, Lucy chuckles. Are you sure you have a license? Do you even have it with you? she realizes with concern.

- Yeah, I laugh at her reaction. You can check my wallet if you want.

- Hmm, that’s exactly what I’m going to do, she says as she leans toward the back seat.

She rummages through my bag to find my wallet. She seems relieved to find my license and gives me the green light to start. I do as she asks and, fortunately for me, I don’t stall again. I then merge onto the road, making sure there’s no one around. I glance briefly at Lucy, who still has my license in her hands.

- Watch the road, she scolds.

- Oh, come on, I’m managing.

- Obviously, she snickers.

- Where am I going?

- Go straight and at the next intersection, turn right to do a U-turn. There shouldn’t be much traffic here. Do you think you can handle it?

- Normally.

- Hmm, hmm, she smiles. Slow down, will you?

- Are you done yet? I scoff. I feel like I’m hearing my mom when I was learning to drive.

- Hey! I’m far from being your mother, she replies, tapping my thigh.

I mock her while following her instructions. I make the U-turn without any problems, which seems to reassure her. I was lucky there were no other cars. I think she deliberately took this route to give me back the reins. She has me take the previous road to reach a more attractive road. She directs me to the right, introducing me into traffic. I’m proud of my driving, even though I sense that Lucy is not too comfortable beside me. She winces in advance at each possible mistake I might make.

- How did you learn to drive? she asks.

- My dad taught me one summer when I was fifteen. My mom never knew. The day I started driving with her, I had to pretend not to know, I giggle.

- Were you already on bad terms with her back then?

- Yeah. It was a real disaster. At my slightest mistakes, she’d yell at me, which made me mad. We never finished a trip without it ending in a fight.

- I see. Take this way.

Excitement hits me when I see we’re driving along a beach. It’s far from as beautiful as Barcelona’s, but at least there is one. Lucy reminds me to focus on the road. It’s funny how she’s so concerned about her car.

- Do you want to make a stop?

- Can we?

- I had something else planned, but it’s just nearby, so we can park and walk a bit.

- Cool! I’d like that.

I stop at the first parking lot we find and choose a spot where no other cars are around to make sure I don’t hit a mirror. I engage the handbrake and turn off the car with a big smile.

- Happy to finally drive an Audi?

- Thanks for letting me drive at all. I missed it.

I unbuckle and throw myself into her arms, catching her by surprise. She accepts my hug after getting over her initial shock. She then retrieves her keys from the dashboard before we get out. I understand why she asked me to dress warmly the moment I feel the cold air hitting me harshly. It’s even colder than in downtown. I quickly put on my coat and scarf. Lucy puts our bags in the trunk so we don’t have to carry them and lock.

- It's freezing here, I said, pulling up the zipper of my jacket all the way.

- I warned you, she laughed. Follow me. I want to show you something now that we're here.

- Do you come here often?

- Occasionally, when I want to clear my head.

- What do you want to show me?

- Don’t be impatient, princess.

I smile at the nickname she hasn't used in a while. Everyone thinks Leah is the one who started it, but Lucy called me that from my first day. We walk a bit more until she stops in front of a rock formation that is more imposing than the others. I grimace, realizing her intentions.

- Don’t tell me we’re going to climb up there?

- Yes.

Without waiting for my response, she starts climbing. I sigh and try to follow her at a certain height.

- Remember that I’m afraid of heights, right?

- Don’t be a wuss. I promise it’s worth it. Come on, give me your hand.

Since she doesn’t seem to change her mind, I take her hand and she pulls me up to her level before continuing higher. I eventually reach the top without falling. She finds a flat spot where we can sit. It wasn’t so complicated after all. I look out at the horizon thoughtfully. She was right; it was worth it. The view from up here is magnificent. The breeze whistles in my ears, but the place is so soothing that I don’t mind. To think I almost missed this spot. We can see everything from here, but no one can see us thanks to the rocks in front of us that hide us.

- This is where I come most of the time when I need to be alone.

I tear my eyes away from the sea to look at her. She gazes out admiringly. I appreciate that she’s sharing something personal with me. She promised she would this weekend, and it seems she still keeps her promises.

- Tell me about yourself. I want to get to know you better... You know, the real Lucy. Not the camp instructor.

- What do you want to know?

- I don’t know. Tell me about your family, your friends, what you like... Everything.

- Everything? she chuckles. Am I tormenting you that much?

- Totally.

A smile forms on her lips, but she still doesn’t look at me. I turn my attention back to the waves crashing on the rocks below us. I can already imagine this scene in my sketchbook. She takes a deep breath that prompts me to meet her gaze.

- Alright. One thing you can know now. Where do you want to start?

- I already know a few of your friends... So why not talk about your family? If you don’t mind, of course.

- Alright, but only if you tell me about yours in return.

I grimace but agree anyway. It’s the only way to learn things after all.

- Very well, she says, taking a deep breath. To be honest, I’ve never known my real parents.

I don’t hide my surprise. I expected many things, but certainly not this revelation.

- I was adopted at birth, she continues. My parents were clear with me as soon as I was old enough to understand. I never worried about who my real parents were. To me, I already knew them and didn’t need anyone else.

- Wow... I wasn’t expecting that, I admit.

- I know, she smiles. It didn’t stop me from living a normal life, quite the opposite.

- Are you close to them?

- Quite, yes.

- It didn’t stop you from leaving them to come here.

- It was only for studies; otherwise, I would have never left, she tells me with a small smile. I don’t really have much more to add, she chuckles, shrugging. My life can’t be as exciting as you might imagine.

- Don’t you have any siblings?

No, I’m an only child. My mother couldn’t have children, which is why they adopted me. However, I consider Jenni like a sister. We’ve known each other since childhood and grew up together.

- I see... So, you’ve never had any conflicts with your parents or anything like that?

- Not really, she giggles. They’ve always let me live my life. Well, let’s move on to you. What are you still hiding from me? she asks curiously.

- Well, I have divorced parents, a blended family... I’m now waiting for my mother to announce that she’s getting remarried.

- Do you think that will happen?

- I suppose. It would be logical, I shrug.

- And... And your father? she asks delicately.

I could have sworn she’d bring him up. It’s one of the few things she doesn’t know about my family yet. I look at her for a moment, noticing no insistence in her expression. If I wanted to, she’d let me dodge it, but that’s not the most courageous decision. I look ahead as I begin to answer her.

- There’s not much to say, I murmur.

- Sorry. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.

- If there’s not much to say, it’s because he’s no longer here.

I spoke before my mind could torment me too much. I didn’t want to backtrack now that I was decided to tell her.

- He’s dead, Luce. He’s just dead.

A heavy silence surrounds us at this news. Saying it out loud still hurts just as much. Tears burn my eyes, but I quickly wipe them away with the back of my hand.

- H-He died on a mission when I was eighteen. He was a soldier. H-His death caused my breakdown after high school...

If I look at her now, I won’t be able to hold back the tears that threaten to fall for good. Without saying anything, she puts her arm around my shoulders to pull me closer to her. I don’t think twice about snuggling against her desperately.

- Don’t hold back. You have the right to be devastated...

These simple words release my tears. She squeezes my shoulder and kisses the top of my head.

- It must be hard, but know that you will never be alone again. I’m here now, and I don’t intend to leave you. Okay?

I nod, unable to respond any other way. My throat is too tight, and I might break into uncontrolled sobs.

- D-Do you promise? I ask with a broken voice.

- I promise.

She holds me a little tighter, giving me all the comfort I need. The words are finally out. Someone other than my family or Mapi now knows. I’ve wanted to manage to do this for a long time, and I’ve finally succeeded.

- I’m glad I met you...

- Me too, Ona.

She gives me the time I need to recover. Long minutes pass while I start to feel better and slowly straighten up.

- I think we have a plan waiting for us, don’t we? I ask with my slightly hoarse voice.

- That’s right, and it’s quite packed. Do you feel up to continuing?

- Yeah, I want to enjoy what you’ve planned for us.

- Good, she smiles. So let me suggest we start with the fairground over there, she says, pointing to the place I saw earlier.

- That sounds perfect.

And I mean it. I wanted to go there the moment I saw it, and now she’s offering it to me on a silver platter. She helps me up and down the rocks. She mocks me when I close my eyes on the way down, but it was the only way to manage it. She suggests we head back to the car to get to our next destination faster. I didn’t say no, feeling my feet freezing. It was definitely the best choice.

Saturday, January 9; 3:30 PM - Downtown Manchester.

Our late morning at the fairground was perfect. Lucy is amazing. She managed to make me forget our conversation from this morning. It’s the first time I’ve seen her as anything other than my boss. We’ve just left the restaurant we went to after having fun. She’s taken the wheel for the drive back to downtown. I was happy she let me drive her Audi at least once. It’s the only one that has trusted me so much, and I enjoyed it immensely. The little restaurant she took me to was cool. She once again paid for everything, despite my protests. I ended up abandoning the argument.

- Are you ready to walk?

- Yeah, it doesn’t bother me.

She smiles at me before we stroll through the streets. I don’t know where we’re going, but I trust her. Well, that was until she stopped in front of a dilapidated building. I remain skeptical as she pushes open the door.

- What are you doing...?

- Are you being a wuss?

She challenges me with a mischievous smile, raising her eyebrows. I hate it when she does that. She knows I can’t say no to her. She gives me a nod to go into the creepy building, and I do. She goes ahead to climb the stairs without seeming bothered by the environment.

- Are you okay? she asks, glancing at me.

- Uh-huh...

She chuckles before turning around and climbing at a faster pace. She doesn’t seem to notice that I’m already struggling to keep up.

- What are we doing in this creepy stairwell?

- Patience, you’re too curious. Remind me to ban horror movies for you if you can’t handle places like this.

- I’m not scared! I mutter.

- Have you seen your face? she giggles. You look like you’re going to have a heart attack at the slightest noise. The building is abandoned; there’s no one here.

- You can’t be sure!

- There’s no one here, I’m telling you, she laughs.

I’m relieved when we finally reach the top. She forces open a heavy metal door that eventually creaks open. I cautiously step in behind her. My eyes close as the daylight dazzles me. She props the door open with a slab she found on the ground. I realize we’re on the roof of the building. I slowly move beside her, taking in the surrounding buildings.

- Wow...

I look at Lucy, who’s smiling at me. I momentarily pause on her outstretched hand.

- I know you’re afraid of heights, but you need to see this.

I take her hand without thinking. She carefully pulls me to the edge, which is protected by a safety railing. I hold onto the railing as she positions herself behind me to let me take in the new view.

- Look down...

I take a deep breath before looking. I’m momentarily overwhelmed by vertigo, but Lucy places her hands on my shoulders to ground me. I smile, appreciating what I see. It’s breathtaking. She’s showing me Manchester from above, and it’s a real spectacle. The streets are crowded with as many pedestrians as cars. Everyone continues their lives, unaware that we’re watching them. Walking across the city is so much more effective.

- Visiting in your style, huh?

- Absolutely, she smiles. Not so bad, this haunted building, huh?

- Shut up, I chuckle. Admit it’s scary!

- It’s true I was hesitant the first time I came here, she laughs. But it’s worth it, right?

- Yes! You can’t imagine the number of drawing ideas that have come to mind since this morning with everything you’ve shown me.

- Hey! Copyright then. These are my private spots.

- Is this the first time you’ve brought someone here? I ask curiously.

- Yes and no. Let’s say someone showed me these places, and... I’m showing them to you now.

She leans over the railing beside me to see the city. She looks at me for a moment, a smile forming on her lips.

- These are my personal places that I’m sharing with you. Make sure not to divulge them.

- I won’t say a word, as long as you tell me about the person who showed you these places.

She raises an eyebrow but smiles at the seriousness of my request. It’s a chance to learn more about her.

- It was my first girlfriend... My first love, I’d say. Her name was Kiera.

- What happened...? I ask softly.

Her eyes remain fixed on the city below us. She doesn’t say anything for now. Maybe my question was a mistake. I was about to speak, but she beats me to it.

- She was the first person we met here with Jenni. Let’s say she was a bit like you... She had drug problems she was trying to overcome. I helped her through a detox.

- Oh... I understand better now why you reacted so well with me...

- Yeah, it’s thanks to her, she laughs nervously. I had helped her get out of that. Or so I thought. Everything went wrong in a day. One of her friends called me in a panic. He said she wasn’t responding and he didn’t understand what was happening. My first reaction was to grab my keys and go to her. When I arrived, I just found my girlfriend’s body... She had overdosed.

A strange feeling washes over me. She told the story without any apparent emotion. There it is, her dark memory that she had kept hidden. I try to meet her green eyes, but to no avail. Her reprimands and worries about me become so much clearer. She doesn’t want me to become like her. She’s afraid of losing me like she lost her. It’s my turn to put my arm around her shoulders. She surprises me by resting her head on my shoulder.

- Please don’t fall back into that.

- I won’t. And if I’m feeling down, I’ll talk to you about it.

She ruffles my hair before kissing my cheek. It’s the first time she’s shown such an affectionate gesture towards me.

- Alright, we’ve had enough gloom for today. Do you have any particular desires for this afternoon?

- I thought you already had a full schedule?

- I do, but I prefer to ask you first.

- We’ll stick to your plan, just because I love what you organize.

- Alright, she says, standing up. We can go to Old Trafford if you want. Otherwise, I also saw there’s a street art exhibit nearby if you’re interested.

My eyes light up at the mention of her second suggestion. Her smile is amused.

- The exhibit, I suppose?

- Obviously!

- Good. However, it doesn’t start for another hour, she tells me, checking her watch. But we can take a walk in the park first if you like.

- Good idea, so we can do both.

I’ve always loved nature anyway, and it seems she does too. We head back to the car to reach the park, as it’s too far to walk from here according to Lucy. In any case, she’s truly gone above and beyond to make me happy until the end.

[youknowwho-mustnotbenamed]

November 20 - Transfiguration Classroom | word count: 562 | @wolfstarmicrofic

Today, we are going to be talking about animagi.” Professor McGonagall announces from the front of the classroom. It’s amazing how much power she wields. She doesn’t even have to call for silence, she simply speaks, and everybody stops and listens. It’s the kind of power his mother would both admire and despise. Sirius loves it. “Who can tell me anything about it?”

A moment of silence before Lily is raising her hand. “An animagus is a witch or wizard with the ability to transform into an animal at will.” As Lily speaks, the chalk—which had previously been hovering in the air before the chalkboard—starts writing almost verbatim of what Lily said.

“Thank you, Miss Evans. It should also be noted that becoming an animagus is a difficult task that very few magical folk accomplish. It requires both a depth of magic, as well as the precision to wield it as you need. Can anybody think of a wizard who is a known animagus?” She hardly waits before continuing. “You cannot. Because even should they accomplish animagus status, they chose to keep such talents hidden. You might very well come across an animagus in your lifetime, and never know it.

Now, if everybody can please break into groups and discuss the properties of an animagus, and how it both differs and relates to traditional transfiguration. Hopefully everybody has done the reading.” The last sentence, is directed toward their corner of the room.

James and Peter spin their chairs around to face Remus and him, eyes bright as they talk about the prospects of being an animagus and pranking. James is already coming up with plans as though they will become animagus tomorrow. They are hardly fourteen so they hardly have access, let alone control, of their magic. Besides, Sirius has seen books about this before, the process is long and arduous, it takes months if not years to be able to transform successfully.

Speaking of which, the last time he had thought of becoming an animagus, he was six, maybe seven, barely understanding the scope of magic. He had mentioned wanting to become a bird and fly to the stars he was named after. Mother had scolded him and refused him dinner that night. Apparently, it wasn’t ‘dignified’ to ‘consort with animals’.

Years later, he brought up the wishful thinking with Reggie. Where they both turned into birds and flew away from Grimmauld. The fantasy was enough to comfort them for the long and lonely nights spent apart, but soon fell flat as their relationship began to strain.

Now, he thinks about it again. But not becoming a bird this time. No, this time he will be a wolf. He will be a wolf and he and Remus will play under the full moon. He knows from his research that werewolves aren’t set off by animals, so if he were to effectively become an animal, Remus wouldn’t be blood thirsty. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? Both of them running through the Forbidden Forest, free as the wolves, no fear to burden them. And even better, Remus wouldn’t have to hurt himself anymore.

All he has to do is find the book that he knows is in his father’s study. It details the whole process, everything he needs to be closer to Remus. Everything he needs to become part of his pack.

[tgmsunmontue]

Caring, Keeping and Collecting Transformers - A Guide 8/?

Maverick is unknowingly surrounded by Transformers. He knows something is up though. Just not quite what it is exactly.

Bradley and Jake, having never met, are embarking on their own journeys and will have to learn to deal with the fact that they've both been adopted by Transformers.

Despite having years more experience, Maverick is no help at all.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN

EIGHT

                When they go back downstairs Admiral Kazansky and Captain Mitchell are both standing at the opposite ends of the kitchen, looking angry. He chances a quick look with Bradley who simply rolls his eyes. Definitely weird.

                “Dinner should be here in about fifteen minutes.”

                “Thank you.”

                “Yeah. Thanks,” Bradley adds and Jake knows he considers these two men some type of parents but his whole attitude screams disrespect and Jake wonders when Bradley might get over himself. He doesn’t want to risk disciplinary action by association. Although, he supposes, Admiral Kazansky can definitely tell that it’s all on Bradley, which is a blessing. The silence is definitely awkward, and he doesn’t know what he can possibly talk about when every subject is a potential minefield, so silence seems like the best choice for now. Admiral Kazansky does offer drinks, of which only Captain Mitchell accepts, asking for a beer and for some reason there is huffs and eye rolling and Jake has no idea what is going on.

                Weird.

                The food finally arrives and they eat and make polite conversation, none of it of any substance. Jake desperately wants to ask how long Admiral Kazansky has known about Transformers. He also wants to ask Captain Mitchell what he’s worked on in the past, because he suspects he’s going to get to learn all about the mechanical workings and help build Jetfire. That’s something that has him buzzing, something he’s wanted to do since he was a kid and not been able to do and now being given even the chance has him excited.

                Dustdrift and Ninja are in the garage and he can tell that Captain Mitchell is itching to get out there. There are definitely more silent conversations happening around the table than there are actual spoken ones and he’s certain he feels almost glancing blows as either Admiral Kazansky or Captain Mitchell kick each other under the table. Or maybe Bradley is the one doing the kicking. Regardless, he draws his ankles under his chair where they’ll be safe from roaming kicks.

                When they’re finished Captain Mitchell automatically starts clearing the trash and stacking the used plates into the dishwasher, clearly comfortable in the Admiral’s house and a pleased smile breaks out on his face when Bradley goes to help him.

                “Oh…” Ice says, voice soft and Jake is fairly certain he hadn’t meant to make a sound. He looks at the domestic scene and wonders what it’s about. Before he can think about it too much Admiral Kazansky is pushing his chair back and inclining his head, clearly intending for Jake to follow him. He enters a study, large desk taking up a large portion of the room, there are photos, maps, books and knick-knacks he’d love to go and study but he stands there, very mindful that this is clearly a conversation Admiral Kazansky wishes to have in private. Or maybe to give Bradley and Captain Mitchell some privacy. Then Admiral Kazansky is reaching behind the door and handing Jake a set of khakis.

                “Here. They’re not up to current regulations but they’re still a step up from civvies.” Jake takes the coat hanger and looks, sees the Kazansky nameplate and his eyebrows shoot up. “They’re old, I was keeping them for sentimental reasons. And I would like them back, however we can make some exceptions given the current… situation.”

                “Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.”

                “Don’t speak too soon Lieutenant, we need to have a talk.”

                “Sir?”

                “Please, this is an informal talk. Very informal. I’m about to trust you with something that only a handful of people know.”

                Jake doesn’t know if he’s ready for state secrets, it’s bad enough knowing that his new knowledge of the Transformers is going to no doubt have a considerable impact on his career, and he doesn’t know if it will be positive of negative yet.

                “Do you have to tell me sir?”

                “Well, I have been informed it would be best for you to know, so that you are not caught by surprise should a… situation arise.”

                Jake has no fucking clue what sort of situation he could be referring to. They’ve already got fucking transforming robots, what else could there be? If it’s informal as it is?

                “Now generally this is very much a case of don’t ask –”

                His stomach plummets, skin instantly clammy and then his stomach is rushing back up and he swallows against the urge to throw up.

                “Did Bradley say something?”

                “What?”

                Jake snaps his mouth shut, mind racing back over the conversation he��d had earlier with Bradley. That they knew that Bradley was… not straight. That they were fine with it. Sort of. Fuck. What does any of that even mean?

                “Sorry sir. You were saying?”

                Admiral Kazansky’s eyes have narrowed and Jake swallows.

                “I’m gay and have been in a relationship with Captain Mitchell for twenty years. Give or take.”

                Jake’s sure his jaw hits the floor. Of all the things he was expecting, that was not it. Likewise the relief that floods through him makes his knees feel a little wobbly and he locks them tight. Bradley’s cryptic as fuck comments make way more sense now in hindsight.

                “Holy shit. Me too.” Admiral Kazansky’s eyebrows go up, and Jake is pretty sure his lips are twitching with amusement and he replays what he just said. “Uh. Just the gay part, not the relationship part…”

                “Yes. I gathered as much. Well. Pete thought it prudent that you were made aware it was a fact so that you could… avoid revealing said fact, even accidentally.”

                “Of course sir. Distract, deflect and divert right?”

                “I like your thinking lieutenant.”

…            …            …

                “Did you remember to tell him that he could have the other guest room?”

                “Shit. No. I forgot.”

                “So, we’ve just put two young men in a room with one bed, despite there being a perfectly empty second bedroom.”

                “Two young men who aren’t straight.”

                “Really? Huh. Well, it is possible they’re just…”

                “They met for the first time today. Bradley may have changed, but I don’t think he’d…”

                “I would have. Ha. I did.”

                “Jesus Mav, you aren’t reassuring me.”

                “Okay, how’s this for being reassuring. The guest bedroom they’re in is on the opposite side of the house and we won’t hear anything.”

                “Still not helping!”

                “He’s twenty-four – ”

                “Six.”

                “What?”

                “He’s twenty-six.”

                “No. I know… oh my god. You’re right. He’s twenty-six.”

                Pete’s voice breaks a little and Tom wraps his arms around him and holds him tight. He knows they’ll start building back their relationship from before, but it will be different and it will have scars and tender patches with bruises that will hurt for years, especially if either of them press too hard. They’re both a little too hot-headed and volatile sometimes and he can only hope that Seresin is calm and collected under pressure, because he’s fairly certain that their futures are all now intrinsically twisted together.

…            …            …

                “Holy shit, Admiral Kazansky is gay and in a relationship with Captain Mitchell.”

                “Uh. Did you figure that out, or are you asking me?” Bradley asks him, and he’s changed into a sleeveless undershirt and boxers, clearly getting ready for bed. Even used to communal living like he is it feels a lot more intimate with them in a room with a single large bed.

                “No. He just flat out told me. Said he was trusting me. Holy shit.”

                “Oh. Thank fuck.”

                “You knew,” Jake states, even though he already suspected that was the case.

                “Yeah, of course I did. Mav is my godfather and Ice is… Ice. Uncle Ice.”

                “Right. Makes sense that you’d know. Except you weren’t talking to them for the last few years because of the secret that your Bronco decided to spill… Weird coincidence that we’ve got a bunch of Transformers and naval aviators and none of the naval aviators are… straight,” Jake says. Because Bradley still hasn’t specified exactly how he identifies, and that’s fine, he might be a little curious, but he doesn’t have to know. It’s enough to know that he’s not actually alone in that respect either, not that he thought he was, but suspecting and knowing are two very distinct things and it’s making him feel quite buoyant.

                “Yeah, you’re right. Although if what Dustdrift said then they came to my dad first, and he was very much… actually. I’m assuming he was straight because he was married to my mom, but he could have been bisexual I guess.”

                “You’ve taken this whole thing really… calmly,” Jake states.

                “Well, I always suspected something was up, so today has just been the confirmation that I’m not actually going crazy and imagining the fact that I haven’t ever paid for gas…”

                “Well, I’ve got a horse truck that needs filling up if you want that life experience…”

                Bradley laughs and Jake finds himself smiling at the sound, because it’s somewhat of a relief that even after everything something as mundane as putting gas in a truck can somehow be funny. Also Bradley looks good, all happy and relaxed, his arms are nicely defined with muscle and yeah, he’s got long legs and Jake should probably stop staring. Not that Bradley seems to have noticed at all, which is a relief.

                “So, now that you know Mav isn’t using the other guest room, you’re welcome to it. We don’t have to share.”

                Jake blinks, a little taken aback, because that logistic hadn’t occurred to him. Of course Captain Mitchell is comfortable here, he likely spends a large chunk of time here, no wonder he simply started clearing the trash and packing the dishwasher, will be sleeping in Admiral Kazansky’s bedroom. Huh.

                “I’m the actual guest, surely you should go to the other room?”

                “Bullshit. I’m just as much a guest as you are. I’ve never lived here. Haven’t called any house of Mav’s or Ice’s home since I was eighteen.”

                “Yeah, and how long has that been then?”

                “Eight years.”

                “Oh. Huh.”

                “Just make up your mind. I don’t care. Less loads of washing if we share though.”

                “Yeah… yeah okay,” Jake agrees, because it’s a flimsy excuse but it’s still better than admitting he struggles to fall asleep when he’s not in a room with several other people, his time at USNA and now in bunks or racks meaning he needs the sound of other’s breathing to lull him to sleep.

NINE