#when i get it unfinished or if i put it down i typically forget to pick it again n i get nervous to continue for some reason

[noxtivagus]

i've been listening to more of arknights' ost n i love it so much

[thestarkinternship]

10 Minutes

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader: One Shot (Smut)

Summary: Bucky is a little desperate for some alone time during one of Stark's parties, and ten minutes is all he needs.

Word Count: 2.2k (no mention of Y/N)

Warnings: Profanity, drinking, unprotected sex, praise, oral (male receiving), slight exhibitionism (bathroom at a party), MINORS DNI!

A/N: I kinda took a break from writing because I had a lot of unfinished fics, but I'm slowly starting to get back into it. And thank you for 300 followers on here! I can't believe there's that many people of you who actually like my writing :)

Masterlist

-

“That’s gotta be what, your sixth drink?” You giggled, watching as Bucky polished off another glass, “don’t you wanna slow it down a little?”

With a smirk, he set the empty crystal on the countertop. “Worried I’ll have too much and do something to embarrass you, sweetheart?”

“You could never embarrass me, James,” you rolled your eyes, “and you also can’t get drunk.”

“S’not gonna stop me from trying,” he grinned, “now come here..”

Wrapping his arm around your waist, he pulled you into his side before you could give an answer. Not that you minded – you didn’t need an excuse to be as close to him as possible. You nestled your head in the crook of his neck, breathing in the heavy aftershave that he wore. It was your favourite scent. The musk from it mixed with the spice of the whiskey on his breath as it fanned across your cheeks. It was intoxication in the best way possible, superseding the several glasses of liquor that you’d consumed yourself.

“There is something else, if you think you can handle it.”

In your own little bubble, it was easy to forget that the two of you weren’t alone. Breaking your gaze away from Bucky, you saw one of your teammates making his way over to you with a delicately engraved bottle in his large hand.

“Hi Thor,” you smiled politely, “what is that?”

He held the bottle up proudly. “Asgardian liquor, the finest brewed there. It puts everything here on Midgard to shame.”

“I bet.” You chuckled.

“I’ll take that as a challenge.” Bucky grinned, stepping away from you momentarily to join Thor and some of the others in a round.

You folded your arms across your chest as you shook your head. The super soldier serum might stop his body from reacting to alcohol in the typical way, but it did have a particular effect on Bucky. You couldn’t help but notice how he always seemed to get that little bit more handsy with you. Maybe it was a placebo effect, or maybe that was just an excuse to keep you close to his wandering hands.

Either way, barely twenty minutes had passed before your observation was proven true.

Your shoulder leaned against the back wall as you watched Steve and Tony play pool when Bucky joined you.

“Where’ve you been?” he murmured, “I was looking for you.”

His metal hand drifted up your side, tracing the hem of your shirt and slipping underneath to graze your hip. The metal raised goosebumps on your warm skin, and you shivered further back into his arms.

“Bucky, stop… what if someone sees?” You whispered.

Bucky didn’t ease up, rubbing soft circles on your hip as he drew you in closer. “It’s okay, nobody’s looking at us.”

You glanced around. The loud music masked your hushed whispers, and the addition of Thor’s Asgardian liquor had worked wonders on the team of superheroes. With all of their defences down, no one had noticed the way the pair of you had sidled off to the side.

“We shouldn’t risk it.” You whispered, reaching for his hand and stopping it in its tracks.

“Let’s get out of here, just for a little bit,” he leaned in, pressing his lips to your jaw. The gentle ghost of his breathy murmurs in your ear sent your heart racing, “ten minutes, that’s all I need.”

“Are you really suggesting that we hook up in the middle of the party?” Your head tilted in a mixture of curiosity and surprise.

“Why not?” Bucky pouted. His lips looked so damn kissable when he did that. The thought of giving in, tugging his bottom lip between your teeth in a frantic need to satisfy the urge that you were starting to feel right now was starting to not seem like such a bad idea.

“Because…” Your voice trailed off in search of a compelling reason. Even the slightly hint of doubt would signal a dead giveaway to Bucky that you were more than willing to give in. And the worst part of it was the stupid grin on his face that told you he knew this too.

“Because?” He taunted, his smirk growing wider.

“Because…” The agitation in your voice grew as you struggled.

Bucky chuckled darkly, letting his right hand meet his other at your waist. He turned you slightly, until your back was against his chest. Grip tightening, he pulled your hips back into his. Pressed flush against him, you became all too aware of the way his tight, muscular body felt against yours. And that wasn’t the only thing.

“Bucky, are you-“

“Painfully.” He whispered, leaving another soft kiss just below your ear. Your head fell back to rest against his shoulder. Lips parting, a quiet whimper escaped from them. Bucky  tucked a curl behind your ear to lean in better, “What was that that I just heard, hm? You can resist all you like, doll. But your body’s betraying you.”

He was right of course, but you bit your bottom lip anyway in an attempt to prevent yourself from letting another sound slip. The more you tried to hide your growing desires, the more Bucky persisted. His hand slid down your hip to the hem of your skirt. He played with the material, gently grazing his fingers across the back of your thigh that was now exposed to him. Instinctively, your legs clenched as he dared to venture higher.

Bucky chuckled under his breath. “Bite your lip all you want. But what are you gonna do when you start to soak through your underwear and all over that pretty outfit of yours?”

Your face burned red as your gaze immediately fell downwards. Searching the front of your dress as discreetly as you could, your shoulders relaxed when you found that you hadn’t. But your reaction alone was enough to let Bucky know that you considered it a real possibility.

“Did I have you worried there for a second?” he mocked, “You know I’m right. Come on… ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes.” You said through gritted teeth.

“Yes ma’am.” He smirked, gripping your hand and pulling you out of the room.

It was a wonder that you made it to the bathroom at all. His hands were everywhere. Running through your hair, on your waist, cupping your cheek. But yours were the same, only pulling away just long enough to fumble with the bathroom door. It pushed open, and you both crashed through.

With a hand on his chest, you pushed him back to lean on the door. His eyes widened in at your sudden control, but who was he to stop you? Ripping the hand towel down off the rail by the sink, he dropped it to the floor to cushion you as you sank to your knees in front of him. You toyed with the zipper of his jeans, slowly pulling them and his boxers down in one as you pressed soft kisses to each inch of his bare skin that you exposed.

Bucky let out a tormented groan from the back of his throat as your tongue teased up to the head of his cock. He looked down at you and nearly buckled at the sight. Your hand gripping his thigh, hair messy and lipstick smudged. He watched your wet lips twist into a soft smirk that was so close to wrapping around him.

“When you said painfully, I had no idea this is what I’d done to you.” You cooed, innocently sliding your palm up and down his length.

Bucky hissed at the sensation and reached out to tilt your face up to look at him. His fingers were firm on your cheeks. “We’re down to nine minutes. You gonna keep talking with that sweet mouth, doll, or do you want to put it to good use?”

He didn’t have to ask twice. His tip grazed the back of your throat in one smooth motion. But you didn’t let it rest. You moved your head back and forth, letting your tongue trace over every vein. Bucky’s hand slid up from your jaw to cup your cheek, pulling you further around him as he met your movements with shallow thrusts. His view of you faded as his eyes squeezed shut, revelling in the overwhelming pleasure you were bringing him. The two of you might’ve set a time limit on this brief rendezvous but fuck he could let you go on like this forever.

Head falling back against the door with a soft thud, he growled. The animalistic sound ripped through his gritted teeth as he tugged your head back and off him. Pre cum lingered on your lips as you licked them clean.

Reaching for your hands he helped you to your feet and wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours. He walked you backwards until your bumped into the sink. Reaching for your thighs, he lifted you up to rest on the countertop. Your skirt slipped and bunched up around your waist as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He leaned in, nudging himself between your legs. Gentle whines slipped out from your trembling lips as he brushed over your wetness.

“Bucky…” You begged softly.

“I know, baby, I know,” he murmured, sliding your underwear over to one side, “seven minutes.”

Bucky pushed his hips forward to meet yours, burying himself completely in you. His head dropped to the crook of your shoulder and his lips met your neck. Your arms curled around his broad back, scrunching up the material of his shirt as you clung desperately to him. Soft grunts from him reverberated up into your ear as he pulled out of you only to get sucked right back in by your tight cunt. With one hand on your hip and the other on the edge of the sink, he kept you in position to take it all. Every stroke inside of you had you clenching down around him. His knuckles turned white as his fingertips pressed harder into your skin with each sharp thrust.

“Such a good girl, letting me fuck you with all our friends in the next room,” he muttered between delicate nips at the skin just below your ear, “and you had the nerve to act like you didn’t want this just as much as I did.”

Your hands moved up through his hair and down to the sides of his face as you leaned in, lips met his in a needy fashion. The kiss that followed was all-consuming, swallowing any quiet moans that might give the pair of you away. But shallow breaths slipped out here and there as Bucky rolled his tongue over yours in passionate frenzy.

He pulled on your hip until your body slipped closer to the edge of the sink, and you let out a small gasp. As Bucky’s lips parted from yours, he smirked at the fucked-out haze that glazed over your eyes as his cock rutted up deeper inside of you. As he quickened the twitch of his hips, your thighs tightened around his waist.

“Keep that up, and I won’t be able to pull out, doll.” He grunted softly.

Your brows furrowed as your head leaned back in a wave of pleasure. You weren’t listening to a damn word he was saying right now. Bucky’s hand left your hip briefly to tilt your head back to him.

“Is that what you want? Want me to fill you up and fuck it back into you hard enough that it doesn’t leak out for everyone to see?”

Too out of it to verbally respond, your thighs gave him a light squeeze and answered for you. Bucky’s hand let go of your face and reaffirmed its position on your hip as he then set a ruthless pace. Your head slipped forwards to rest on his shoulder. Burying your face in the crook of his collarbone, your moans vibrated against his throat, driving him crazy. You let your body go limp in his hands as he worked to bring you both a release that the pair of you desperately craved.

Two more thrusts was all it took to bring you both over that delicious edge. His metal hand nearly snapped a porcelain chunk out of the counter with how hard he was gripping it when he came. But you were only the same, with your thighs shaking and breathing heavy. You fluttered around him with every beat of your heart, squeezing every drop of come out of his cock that he had to give you. He lazily rocked his hips a couple more times, coating every inch inside of you.

Bucky’s hands released your body from his tight grip as he gently brushed strand of messy hair out of your face, but he kept himself seated.

“You can’t tell me that wasn’t worth it.” He breathed.

Your pink cheeks pinched into a soft smile. “Maybe it was.”

“Maybe, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, not hesitating to lean into your neck.

“What are you doing?” You giggled as you felt his gentle kisses.

“What? I’ve still got one minute left.” He grinned playfully, trailing kisses up your cheek now as well.

“Bucky.” You whined, feeling his cock teasingly plunge deeper inside of you. Your sensitive body could barely handle any more.

“Fine,” he smirked, and slowly eased himself out of you, “but when this party’s over, I’m done holding back.”

[mango-parfait]

10 Years

Part 1/?

Pairing: Keegan P. Russ x Lyusya 'Lou' Melnikova (OC)

Warnings: MDNI 18+, strong language, canon typical violence, war related topics, mentions/descriptiond of a miscarriage, implied trauma, hunting of an animal.

Word Count: 2.8k+

A/N: Just a bunch of drabbles I've written of Keegan and Lou with the intention of exploring their relationship during the years right after ODIN, to the current events in Cod Ghosts. I thought that they deserved a little bit of spotlight instead of gathering dust as unfinished drabbles. The years will not be in order unless I ever decide to continue the series. Thank you to @moosch, (And a few other mutuals) for encouraging me to post this because I'm way too scared to do it ;;u;; And also thank you for encouraging and enabling my russian literature brainrot that has influenced my writing style <3

Chapter summary: Lou goes out hunting beyond the walls of Fort Santa Monica. Her mind racing and muscles tensed and tight - Keegan had called her a liability, looking at her with a look she could only describe as contempt. Her mind wanders, memories comes back. Keegan comes looking for her to bring her home.

Year two, 2018, Fall

Leaves crunch under her boots- a sound filled with the childhood joy of running and leaping into gathered leaf piles in the backyard of her home, now just a thrum in Lou’s mind. Instead of the passing of a season, it’s a bone cracking under her weight. Orange hues of the trees and foliage- a reminder of lasers coming down from the sky, it’s still hard to forget the sound the ground made when it cracked open, and the screams of the people around her. 

"Eyes on the ground, Lyuda. Look for movement in the leaves, dips in the soil. Nature tells you everything you need to know." Her father’s voice rings in her ears. Rough and scratchy, an indication of one cigar too many. Back then, she'd do anything to avoid going into his study every Saturday morning because of the smoke and stench that clouded every inch of nose - but now, she'd give anything to see him again.

She walks on, each step a tense moment- her eyes darting around the ground. Tracking for games, tracking for Federation movement, it was the same. Maybe there’s game out here in the safe zones - a deer maybe, or a squirrel, or a rabbit. Maybe she’ll get a rabbit or two and bring it back to the guys at base, Merrick would be happy, so will Ajax, Torch, Kick and- 

Her chest surges in anger and bile rises in her throat. She swallows it down and presses her rifle closer to her body.

Keegan.

"Civvie like you shouldn’t be here, could’ve left with the trucks to the camps and yet you chose to stay. Dumb move, rookie."

His voice, low and serious- as it always was, rings out in the silence of the barracks hall. Cerulean eyes burning into hers as he folds his arms across his chest, gazing down at her with a dissatisfied look- or perhaps disgust, she cannot remember. 

"Elias thought he was doing you a service, taking you in and then throwing your ass at me to babysit. You’re not Ghost material, you’re a liability, should’ve left when you could."

No, her mind is wandering. He didn’t say all that- he wouldn’t.

"You’re a liability, not a Ghost."

That was all.

Reaching a small stream, she kneels down to brush her fingers along the dirt. A dip. A tiny indent in the soil, a rabbit maybe- It made sense for animals to gather near a stream for a quick drink.

She crumbles some of her biscuit rations onto the dirt and puts a good amount of distance from the stream to hide behind some boulders.

She waits, her mind starts to wander.

Anya, her baby sister- only a teenager when Lou left Russia to study in America. She promised that she would be home for New Year last year. Now she’ll never see her again. Was her hair still as golden as the wheat fields and eyes as brown as wet soil? Whatever she’s doing now, hopefully she's happy doing it. 

Time passes as Lou sits quietly in her hiding spot, eyes scanning the stream to see whether any animals have taken the bait. A rabbit appears and she readies her rifle the way her father had taught her as a young girl.

But she doesn’t listen to her father's words this time- it’s the Ghost Sergeant's. The anger surge in her chest once more at the thought of him. 

"You’re a liability."

Oh, she should’ve socked him in the jaw for calling her that.

The Sergeant knew how to get under her skin, spot her weaknesses and make her correct it immediately, his gaze always hard, sometimes even bored- either way, it's hard to read his expressions sometimes. He was strict and had taught her how to fire a rifle more efficiently, tackle long distances, control her breathing, to kill quickly, to survive one more day- one more op.

To survive.

To fight.

To live.

"Tuck your elbows in. Hips tight. Shoulders don’t pass your heels. Stock against your shoulder. Again. Do it again. One more time. Nice shot. Good job. Not bad."

Four months as his mentee. ‘Rookie’- he called her, part of the team and not yet part of it. The name had stuck and everyone started calling her that. It had even gotten to Elias, his hard face blurting out said nickname in a mission debrief. She hated it. 

A bullet fired from her rifle- the rabbit falls. Perhaps this will do for now, Lou can clean the carcasses and then bring them back to the butcher’s for processing and get meat jerky out of them. More meat in her ration packs and something she can share with the guys. Picking up the carcass and clearing it out right by the stream, her focus remained sharp as the carving knife in her hands twists and cuts its way through the tendons of the rabbit- stripping it of its skin.

Keegan had asked her once whether she had any knowledge of wildlife during a training hike after she had pointed out bare patches of grass in a passing field, saying that it was caused by one too many deers going through the same route over and over again. 

"No, sir. I just read it in a book once."

She wasn’t really sure why she lied to him.

Dunking the rabbit into the water and letting the water carry its blood along its streams, she keeps the image of the sergeant’s face in her thoughts. The day he called her a liability, his brows were furrowed a little more than usual, the frown was obvious even with the knit layer of his skull mask. The op wasn’t a tough one- if it could’ve been considered an op, just some quick scouting trip to a mall with minimal Federation patrols that they avoided easily. Afterwards, it was just a matter of setting up a vantage point, collect intel for Command, pack up and head home. It was easy, even for a rookie like her.

But she couldn’t recall what she had done wrong to make him call her a liability- maybe she adjusted the scope on her rifle incorrectly, maybe she had worn her shirt inside out. Or maybe he just felt like saying what he always thought. Either way, Lou couldn’t deny the emptiness in her chest when he said it to her face getting back to Fort Santa Monica, his eyes burning down at her as he folded his arms.

All she could do was just stare up at him with confused hurt. 

She impatiently digs the knife into the carcass, incision ragged and forced to get its guts out.

Her father’s voice rings in her head once more. "Be careful, daughter. Nice and easy- like painting a brush or like when you’re helping mother sew." She ignores him again.

The way she twisted the knife felt like the first person she had killed. A federation soldier- most probably a recruit sent out to scout the area where the hospital was. She would’ve let him pass if he didn’t choose to turn the corner that led to the room where she was hiding with a couple of the kids.

A stab into the neck with a crooked screwdriver, she held onto him even when her hands were slick and slippery with his blood. Only letting go when his body went limp in her arms.

A liability. Liability. Might as well make it a cuss word at this point, judging from how much it pissed her off. How can she be a liability when she went through basic training, did so well at long distance shooting that Elias had a long talk with about joining the Task Force?

Why a liability when she went through another month of training under Elias just so that he could start her way up to becoming part of the Ghost team?

Why a liability when she had suffered what she had suffered in No Man’s Land for four months when ODIN’s missiles scorched and cracked land for miles?

Why a fucking liability when she has fought, killed, starved and scavenged for those four months?

Dipping the carcass into the stream once more, Lou watches the blood staining the water and lets itself be led away by the current. The sight reminds her of sooty tiled floors of the bathroom in the ruined hospital, her lower half soaked in the blood that pooled beneath her. A miscarriage- that was what the medical staff told her. They said that it wasn’t her fault, supplies were running out, and with Federation soldiers constantly swarming around the hospital- it made it hard to scavenge from the other buildings in the vicinity.

The memories of deep dark blood made her nauseous and Lyusya takes in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. The baby she had lost, Constantine for a boy and Anya for a girl.

The mother she could’ve been. Now she’ll never get her chance.

So why would Keegan call her a liability when she had suffered what she suffered. What was all the pain, tears and blood for then? If she had gone through all of that just to be tossed into civilian camps and coaxed to live like normal then all that she had gone through in No Man’s Land would’ve been for nothing. 

Nothing at all.

Memories return. The piercing pain on the day it happened was like a million daggers to her stomach. The pitiful stares of the women as they tried to help her. Tried to. There was nothing much they could do.

Dirty bathtub. Tap not working. Ash and soot in the air. Blood flowing from between her legs. Gunfire in the distance. Her mother's face comes into view. She'd be there to wipe her tears and clean the blood off her.

“Rookie.”

Her thoughts come to a complete silence. The voice- so familiar. So hated.

Keegan.

She turns to look over her shoulder, unable to mask the scowl on her face.

He’s unmasked this time, dark stubble all throughout the jaw and around the lips. The blues of his eyes dimmed significantly without all the black fabric covering his entire body she sees him in so often. The bane of her existence fully clad in issued USMC shirt and pants with his dog tags hanging off a beaded chain around his neck.

Keegan wasn’t smiling, but she could detect the tiniest hint of amusement in his eyes. Oh, how she must look to him right now- the woman that attacked him in No Man’s Land, his rookie- cleaning game by the stream on an autumn morning just outside base.

“Knew you were lying to me about not knowing how to hunt.” Keegan takes a few steps forward and tilts his weight ever so slightly to loom over Lou to see what she was doing- it took everything in her not to bristle at his intrusion, he was not a welcomed sight at the moment.

“Ajax said you were outside for a walk. Never heard of someone going for a walk with a pocketful of knives.”

She turns away from him and lowers her gaze back to the task at hand and gets to cleaning the second carcass. “Just needed to clear my head, sir.”

“To hunt?”

“I was hungry.”

“That you have to hunt?” He takes another step closer and kneels beside her to watch. If he couldn’t sense her irritation growing just by being near her, then it’s clear that he’s deliberately ignoring it. “Could eat the chow back at base.”

“No.”

“No?”

“The rations are not sustainable, sir.” She hurriedly follows up, dumping out some bullshit excuse.

Keegan snorts and then stays silent. Watching her cut the guts out of the rabbit carcass with such practice and precise movements as if she had done this a million times. When he guessed that Lyusya knew how to hunt, he pictured coffee by the campfire, holding daddy’s guns and cheering him on- something he’d see in a movie.

How much did he know about the woman that he saved from No Man’s Land? Not much, that’s for sure. Something’s off about her today- he already knew why.

A gust of wind passes and Lou could smell the sea on the man. She knew he’d gone for a naval op with Merrick to do some scouting on a Federation submarine last night- they’d left out the details because she was a ‘rookie’. A full night of swimming, scouting and fighting. What the hell is he doing here then?

“You could have just asked to use the shooting range for a bit, clear your head that way.” 

“Out here is better..” She plucks the carcasses out of the stream. “Go back to base without me, sir. I won’t be long.” 

He stands up with a grunt and places his hands on his hips, eyes scanning their surroundings. The safe zones outside the Fort were as safe as they could be - if the Federation keeps to their word. As nice as this patch of grassland was, it wasn’t as safe as his rookie would like to think.

“Like hell you are.” He tells her with a sigh, frown forming on his lips- she’s so fucking stubborn sometimes. “You’re lucky enough to catch game out here, but it’s gonna run out the longer you sit on your ass. Time to go.”

Lou doesn’t look his way- the scowl on her face is better hidden from his eyes as she works on wrapping old newspaper around the carcasses and places the bundles in a canvas bag.

And to be honest? She doesn’t want to go back anytime soon. Her heart aches to wander around the open fields a little bit more. To be able to feel like a girl once more, not the broken woman she was after ODIN, and certainly not the woman that’s training as a recon sniper, fighting to survive one more day and being trained by the blue eyed son of a bitch that called her a liability.

Fuck, she’s so pissed about that and him being here right now isn’t making it easier to not snap. 

“Just leave me alone.” She stands up and sweeps dirt off the knees of her pants. “Why do you care? I'll be back in an hour.”

He huffs and folds his arms, eyes glaze around their surroundings once more. “You're not making this easy.”

“A liability never does, sir.”

His eyes narrow at her, only to be received by defiance. But Keegan's eyes didn't hold any malice just irritation and maybe a tinge of confusion. He remembers what he said to her after their mission- the hurt on her face was enough to be seared into his memory.

A year since ODIN, a year of constant fighting. This war was expensive, tiring and a drain on resources. Keegan was tired- he’s been tired since Sand Viper. If it weren’t for the loyalty for his fellow marines and the entire Ghost Team, he would’ve packed up long ago. Move to the property in Missouri that’s been on his mind, and maybe even raise some chickens.  

But here is his little rookie, the woman who spent her childhood in drama school reciting Shakespeare and reading Classics like drinking water, a woman who could- with every chance she got, choose to leave when she could. But she didn’t. Elias told her that she'd make a recon sniper, and like a little puppy, she lapped up the compliment like canned wet food.

Keegan had never meant to hurt her the way he did. She could’ve lived a normal life again and yet- she’s here. 

His rookie.

One can’t help but shoulder the responsibility.

“Whatever you are, it's time to go back to base.” He turns to walk back in the direction of the fort, its walls safely within sight.

Lou was reluctant. She could follow- then again, she could turn in the other direction and walk further into the treeline. But when Keegan turns - she freezes, her mind fights to stay. 

“Come on, rookie.” He says to her, voice unexpectedly softer. “I'm not leaving you behind.”

He doesn't walk until she does. A couple of steps forward, a tentative gaze in his direction- he continues down the trail back to the fort with her in silence.

-End-

[siderealsandman]

just finished reading mending warped designs and im so sorry bc you probably heart this a lot so i mean it in the most respectful way possible but... are you abandoning that fic? 😭 or are you just on an undefinite hiatus?

i NEVER read fics that are unfinished, but after finishing T&C, i simply HAD to venture into that alley. and im not disappointed. as much as i hate angst, your writing and world builiding is simply miraculous, for lack of a better word. the work you've done is a masterpiece, and i mean it. might be the best work of fiction ive ever read. it would be a real shame to abandon it, but i understand if you have things that are more important :) your health and happiness should be your utmost priority ❤️

that being said, i really do hope you choose to continue writing it. masterpieces don't just appear, they take a lot of work and dedication and im so, SO glad you took the time to put in the effort to create something so beautiful.

best of wishes xx

Thank you so much! I appreciate all the love and feedback I've gotten on my ML fics over the years.

With Miraculous I feel like I kinda grew out of the setting/fandom (doesn't help that most of my friends I met in it moved on) but overall T&C came from a place of frustration with canon I no longer feel. That and MWD had me with the worst case of writer's block that I resolved by writing something else (two something else's).

I have the last scene of MWD written but need to put together the connective tissue which I find it hard to get in a headspace to write. When I have time to write, I typically want to tend to The Games of Divinity or Devil Summoner: Akechi Goro. I do plan on finishing it...but can't promise when.

If you're interested, however, I do have the final scene below

Context: Marinette and Adrien are at a party with the rest of the heroes when Dr. Oliver attacks again, leading the pair of them to leave and take down their enemy while Team Paris rests.

Despite the crowds of people fleeing for their safety, Marinette was in a better mood than she had been in for a long time. 

"Now this feels familiar," Adrien mused, tugging Marinette out of the way of a pack of panicked tourists. "Everybody in their right minds is running away from danger, and here we are running towards it." 

"Must be something wrong with us," Marinette chuckled. 

"Of course there is," Adrien said, tugging her into an empty cafe. "If we were normal, we wouldn't have volunteered." 

Two flashes of light later and Ladybug led her partner out the other entrance and onto the rapidly emptying street. "I wonder what the venn diagram of lunatics and superheros looks like." 

"It's basically a circle," Chat Noir said as some of the people fleeing for their lives slowed down to take a picture.

"Go get em Ladybug!" One person yelled as they ran to safety. 

"Kick his ass Ladybug!" 

"Good to see you're back Ladybug!" 

"Oh my god Ladybug!" 

"Ladybug, can I have your number-" 

"Hey, you know what's cooler than Ladybug? Not being destroyed by dinosaurs; get to safety before someone T-Wrecks you," Chat Noir said, shooing a small crowd of pedestrians towards a bunker. "Go on, get! Jeez, you need to have a word with your fan club about personal safety." 

"Don't tell me you're jealous of all the attention I'm getting," Ladybug chuckled. 

"I've spent the last four years deliberately trying to avoid attention," Chat Noir sniffed. "Besides, Paris is kinda slow to forget; I'm sure most of these people still think I was up to something fishy with Hawky." 

"I get the crowds of screaming fans, you get all the superhero clout," Ladybug said, awkwardly waving at a crowd of passing tourists all delaying their escape to snap pictures of the newly returned heroes. "Somehow I think you got the better deal." 

"Now who's jealous?" Chat Noir asked, rubbing the back of his neck. "They'll come around…I'll make sure of it." 

Ladybug nodded, noticing the furtive glances sent Chat Noir's direction. "Yeah…ditto." 

Ladybug stopped in the middle of the street, watching Chat Noir's back as he stepped past her. "Hey…are you sure about this?" 

"What, running solo against a guy with some lab-grown dinosaurs?" Chat Noir chuckled. "What's there to worry about?" 

"No, I meant…" Ladybug trailed off with a shake of her head. "Forget it." 

"I know what you meant," Chat Noir said, glancing over his shoulder. Somehow, the spectral eye that looked her over didn't seem as threatening as it used to be. There were glimmers of Adrien, her Adrien, under the overwhelming mantle of Chat Noir. Enough for Ladybug to latch on to as he smiled. 

"I'm here because I want to be," Chat Noir said, turning around and leaning on his staff. "Because I want to try…I don't need to be sure about anything else." 

That doesn't scare you? Ladybug thought. 

Who says it doesn't? Chat Noir thought back with a wink. "You should spend a little less brain power worrying about me, Ladybug; we're gonna need those smarts to send these creeps back to the Jurassic period." 

"I thought I'd let you take the lead on this one," Ladybug said, falling back into step beside Chat Noir. "Give you a chance to flex your own brainpower." 

"And I thought I told you I have one strategy," Chat Noir said. "Everything else is just tactics. Besides, what is the correct strategy to deal with a man who has living fossils at his beck and-" 

A pterodactyl shaped drone swooped low overhead, launching an electromagnetic rocket at the door of a nearby bank and blowing it clean off its hinges. 

"Wait…those are the dinosaurs we're supposed to be fighting?!" Chat Noir huffed, glaring at the drone as it zipped away. 

"Yyyyyeah?" Ladybug said. "What's wrong?" 

"They're…they're robots!" Chat Noir said. "Just…just some stupid robots!"

 "What did you think he had actual dinosaurs for us to-" Ladybug stopped short as she saw the almost heartbroken look on Chat Noir's face. "Oh…oh my god, you actually thought we were fighting real dinosaurs?!" 

"I've seen weirder stuff than that!" Chat Noir said, huffing as Ladybug doubled over, clutching her stomach as uncontrollable peals of laughter echoed off the mostly empty street. "I was told this was a professor who uses dinosaurs to rob banks but apparently he's just a nerd with a Transformers fetish!" 

"Oh…Oh, I'm sorry, is this beneath you?" Ladybug laughed. "What, you fight dragons for a couple of years and suddenly you're too good for robot dinosaurs?" 

"I'm the apex predator; not some…some…ugh, I'm so disappointed I can't even metaphor correctly!" Chat Noir growled. 

"His Majesty only deigns to sully his little kitty paws with real monsters, thank you very much," Ladybug wheezed. "Theeeeee Apex Predator needs worthwhile prey; none of this toy-aisle garbage."

"Shut up," Chat Noir laughed, completely oblivious to the dinobot stomping down the street behind him until the hot gust of steam from its nostrils washed over the back of his head. Something about the way Ladybug laughed had a funny habit of making him forget the kind of danger he was in, even after so much time apart. 

"No, don't even bother!" Chat Noir said, ignoring the robotic snarl that came from the dinobot. "It's ruined! This whole day is totally ruined! I thought we were going up against someone worth our time but all we got is a model kit builder and his army of toys!"

"Hey!" A booming voice shouted as a large pterodactyl drone descended, powered by hovering jets that only seemed to piss Chat Noir off more. The top opened and out stepped an equally angry looking professor in a black lab coat and goggles. 

"And I'm guessing that's our target," Ladybug said, flicking the gigantic T-Rex in the nose as it leaned in closer to her and leaving a divot in the machine's steel frame. 

"Who dares question the paleontological engineering genius of-" Dr. Oliver stopped as he spotted Chat Noir. "...Chat Noir?" 

"No, I'm a very disappointed kitty who wanted to chase lizards today," Chat Noir said. 

"And…" Dr. Oliver pointed at Ladybug. "Wait, when did you get back?" 

"Three days ago; haven't you heard?" Ladybug said, bumping her shoulder into Chat Noir's. 

"I was in jail on bank robbing charges," Dr. Oliver said. "They only played football and reruns of terrible BBC baking shows." 

"Well, here's the only news story you need," Ladybug said. "Ladybug and Chat Noir are back in Paris." 

"And more than ready to stick our Little-foots up your tin can tailpipe, you tacky old veloci-loser!" Chat Noir spat, cracking his knuckles. "Get my hopes up, will you…" 

"You got your hopes up," Ladybug pointed. 

"And I'm taking it out on him!" Chat Noir said, brandishing his baton in the perturbed professor's face. "Come out of the Zord with your hands in the air and I'll see if we can get you some Land Before Time DVD's to entertain you in prison." 

"But…how?!" Dr. Oliver stammered. "How are you…I-I thought you two were finished!" 

"We were, but…" Ladybug spared a smile for her partner. "Life…finds a way." 

The hiss of dozens of whirring servos drew her attention to the small pack of robotic velociraptors that closed in around them. At the far end of the street, a large mechanical triceratops angled three cannons in their direction while a small pack of pterodactyl drones whirred overhead. 

"So…little guys are worth one point?" 

"Big suckers are at least five," Ladybug agreed. 

"And the big guy has to be a dime," Chat Noir said, teeth flashing as he snapped his staff out to full length. "No cheating now." 

"I trust you'll keep me honest," Ladybug said, springing into the air alongside her partner. They hung for a moment in mid air, suspended above the encroaching crowd of mechanical monsters, before diving like twin falling stars into the melee, back to back as it always should have been. 

[whoneedsapublisher]

Tune Up

I've had this unfinished HK-47 centric story sitting around for ages and I finally went back to clean it up and work a conclusion into it.

Words: ~700

Summary: The Exile is starting to get a little frustrated with just how esoteric HK-47's construction is. Prideful as he is, HK-47 obviously has a justification.

Also on Ao3

********************

“Hey, HK?”

“Query: What is it, master?” HK-47 glanced down at the exile with what she perhaps too charitably interpreted as mild interest. That was the problem with droids whose heads were too face-like. She always tried to read expressions into them, even if she knew that there was no actual actuators there to react to what the droid was thinking.

“Why did Revan design you so... “ she made a vague gesture, and then settled on the diplomatic option. “..strangely?”

She wiped her brow with the back of her hand. She’d probably gotten oil on it from doing that, but she’d deal with it later. She was going to need a shower after this anyway. What did a little more oil matter?

“Resigned statement: Come now, master. Surely you must be able to figure that out.

Alright, now she was sure he was making a face at her. Although maybe that was just his extremely expressive tone doing all the work.

“No, I’m serious,” the exile said, frowning. “Look, even aside from the all the memory core issues, a lot these systems are- sorry if you take offence, but like, you have to know that this stuff is really inefficient for combat, right?”

“Patient reminder: Master, I am not a combat droid. I am an assassin droid.”

“So?” the exile said. “That still means shooting people.”

“Disappointed correction: Master, an assassin droid’s combat capacity is only half of its functionality. An vital part of assassination is target access.” HK-47 raised a finger as if delivering a lecture. “Suspiciously specific hypothetical: Imagine I needed to infiltrate a civilian cruiser, owned by a paranoid crime boss, who demanded that all droids who entered his vessel be examined by his personal mechanic. If my design was overtly designed for combat efficiency, my target would be immediately suspicious. However, as my chassis and many of my features are designed to mimic a sophisticated protocol droid, any cursory examination of my functions by a mechanic, either for inspection or maintenance reasons, would not immediately reveal my true purpose. Amusing anecdote: In fact, when Revan lost his memory, he reacquired me due to needing my translation functionality, not the raw might of my assassination protocols.”

“I guess that makes sense,” the exile said, peering back into the labyrinth mess that comprised the inside of HK-47’s chest chassis. “It would be pretty hard to tell that you’re an assassination droid if you didn’t find the protocols for it. Almost none of your assassation stuff is in the hardware, after all. No onboard weapons, no obvious interfaces with weaponry… just sophisticated enough motor control of your hands to operate a weapon the way a human would.”

“Pleased agreement: Exactly, master. And such precise motor control is quite typical of high-end civilian droids without any combat programming.” HK-47 flexed his fingers. “Speculation: I believe that the problems with my memory core come from it being designed to easily obfuscate information until certain conditions were met so that memory scans would not reveal my missions, while also being resistant to core wipes. That way, if my core was wiped while in service to a target, I would not forget my original purpose. Extrapolation: This may lead to unintentional cases of certain portions of my memory being encrypted when my core is tampered with in any way, such as when Revan deleted any knowledge of his destination and his recent locations.”

The exile nodded, rubbing her chin in thought. It did make a certain kind of sense. If you were designing a droid that was going to be fully at the mercy of maintenance techs mid-mission, you’d have to put a lot of effort towards dealing with core wipes.

“Prideful assertation: Master, I believe that while my design is unusual, it is the single best implementation of the core concept available in this galaxy. Supporting evidence: Look at how successful those distasteful knock-offs of my model were, despite their obvious inferiority.”

“Well, I guess you’re right,” the exile said, closing HK-47’s front panel. “Still, sometimes I wish you were little easier to tune up.”

“Mollifying reassurance: Do not worry, master. I am sure that your skills are up to the task.”

The exile frowned.

Next time, she was going to open up his faceplate. Just to make doubly sure that it was impossible that he was smirking at her.

[barbarianprncess]

“Forget it, you’re a fucking asshole.” and “Nobody’s seen you in days.” that would be inchresting 👀👀

for mari my beloved, 

(aka @chironshorseass ) 

as you know this sort of got away from me. one second i was writing a drabble of angst, the next I'm on the 16th page with no end in sight. so this maybe isn’t what you were expecting but have 5k of post-botl/pre-tlo pining idiot besties who are in love :). 

(also this hasn’t been beta’d and i'm welcome to volunteers i just finished and got so excited i had to post.)

(dear one anon who asked for 'forget it you're a fucking asshole' too, if you're reading this, don't worry yours is coming too i promise)

(final s/o to @posallys for letting me scream about them)

24 hours

read on ao3

enjoy <3

                                                      ...

Percy is fucking exhasted.

He was supposed to be back at camp four days ago. The deal was he’d spend weekdays at camp to plan and train and weekends at home to relax. But, he kept putting it off, opting to keep the weight on his chest that’d been pushing him down since last summer bearable, and not crushing the way it always was at camp. So, when he gets through the barrier, aside from nodding hello to Beckendorph and Silena, he makes a beeline to his cabin. He manages to keep his eyes down until he’s standing at his porch steps- and that when he sees her.

Annabeth is pacing on his balcony. She’s wearing jean shorts and her camp shirt, but instead of her typical ponytail her hair is in two intricate braids that reach her breastbone. She’s muttering to herself and wringing her hands together and for a moment Percy forgets. He forgets the past year and all the arguing and the bitterness and he sees Annabeth is worried about something and he reaches out as if to hold her. To wrap his arms around her and tell her that everything is going to be alright.  

But then he remembers.

He retracts his hands.

He clears his throat and Annabeth startles. Her grey eyes are as intense as ever and he can almost see her defences come up. He hates that it's because of him. Annabeth is the first to break the silence.

“Hey.” Her voice is small but clear. Not yet vulnerable, but gives Percy the sense that it could be soon.

“What’re you doing here?” He isn’t sure he said it out loud until she ducks her head and flushes.

“Nobody’s seen you in days.” It’s not the accusation he expects. It's also not an answer to his question. Just an observation.

“I’m here now.” He says it like it’s an invitation. He then becomes incredibly aware that he's still looking up at her from the bottom of the steps, so he grabs his duffel, bounds up the stairs, and opens his cabin door. He hesitates and meets her eye with another silent question. She answers by stepping inside.

He drops his bag by his bed and turns on the light. The air is charged with unasked questions and unfinished conversations. He can’t stand it. He’s about to attempt small talk when she says something that nearly knocks down where he stands.

“I miss you.” She’s wringing her hands again and she won’t look him in the eye, but takes his silence as confusion.

“That’s what I came here to say, that I miss you.”

Percy isn’t sure what to say. Percy isn’t sure this conversation is really happening, she’s broken so many of the fragile rules they’d been following all year. He’s 98% sure this is a really vivid daydream to cope with…. well everything.

He decides that on the off chance this is real he should play it safe so, he states the obvious.

“I’m here. We’re here, together. We’re together and-” She cuts him off and begins to ramble.

“Strained and awkward and it's like there’s this chasm between us of all these things from last summer. From our kiss, to you dying, and then you not dying, and Rachel, and Luke, and Luke being Not-Luke, and it’s like we can’t have a conversation anymore and that sucks ‘cause..”

She pauses for the first time to look up at him and her eyes are shining.

“You’re kinda my best friend. And I miss you. Everything sucks and I'm tired of fighting. And I really miss you.”

Percy’s too shocked to say anything. It occurs to him that he should respond but he can’t find the words. All the unspoken rules they had in place and Annabeth had just steamrolled right through them. Percy realizes his mistake in staying silent as Annabeth flushes and turns to leave.

“Forget it, you’re a fucking asshole.” And oh no Annabeth had just swallowed her pride (which he knows better than anyone is no easy feat) to say everything he’d wanted to hear and he can’t let her walk away.

“I miss you too.” The words tumble out of him, clunky and a little awkward but earnest. Annabeth stops and faces him, eyes suspicious in the way that breaks his heart a little bit.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Really.”

Annabeth exhales and shoots him a tremulous smile he hasn’t seen in forever, and oh he’d forgotten what it did to his chest when she did. Before he does something stupid like tell her he thinks her smile is the best this he’s ever seen, he clears his throat.

“So…. this chasm you said, what do you propose we do about it?”

“24 hours. For 24 hours everything that I listed before is a non-issue. After that we can go back to…..whatever it is we’re doing now. One day, where we’re just two friends spending a day at camp together..”

“Best friends.” He corrects without thinking. She rolls her eyes, and he almost giggles because he’d missed her eyerolls too.

She holds out her hand to shake, all business-like and gods he missed her.

“Best friends. 24 hours.”

He takes her hand. Her shake is firm, her palms are warm, her eyes are bright, and she is beautiful.

“Where do we start?”

...

Apparently it starts with homework.

After he asked where they’d begin, Annabeth had flashed him a wicked grin, damn-near dragged him off the porch, and made a beeline to the Big House. Before last summer, Annabeth had been “tutoring” him. Once a week they’d head down to the Big House and spend hours combing through myths and legends, practicing Ancient Greek, and all things Demigod 101. It probably wasn’t ever that useful considering Percy barely remembered any of it, but Annabeth had always insisted. After last summer they’d non-verbally decided to take a break from it (eachother), and they’d never started back up.

Usually he’d halfheartedly complain that it was pointless and say some form of ‘I know enough to not die and that's good enough for me’ every five minutes, but today he nods dutifully along as Annabeth talks animatedly about Orpheus, and Theseus, and all the other -eus’s. He’ll ask a dumb question that they both know he knows the answer to, but she answers him anyway. He watches the wisps of hair that refused to be tied down, and counts the tiny sunspots across her nose and the way she wrinkles her eyebrow when she forgets a name.

It’s not terrible. It’s kinda the opposite. He’d forgotten that she made studying not terrible.

He’s so screwed.

...

The stables are almost empty when they get there.

After 2 hours of studying, (one hour of studying, one hour of laughing and talking and calling it studying) Annabeth declared it was his turn to pick the activity. Tired of sitting still Percy lands on tending to the pegasi. It was one of his favorite things about camp plus he got to teach Annabeth something for once. Annabeth was comfortable enough around them but she never spent anytime with them that she didn’t have to.

When they entered the barn, Blackjack gave him a look and he blushed remembering all the times he’d come to the stables with Beckendorph to vent about how much he missed Annabeth, (He didn’t even know horses could give looks but here we are) and silently told him it was a long story and to be cool. Annabeth had stopped next to one of the cleaning stations and was looking at him expectantly. He cleared his throat and they got to work. He showed her how to brush them and how to get tangles out of their manes, where to scritch them and where not to scratch them. He showed her how to check their feathers and make sure their wings were healthy and how to get them to be still enough to check.

Annabeth was excellent with them, gentle hands and kind eyes. Whenever she approached one she would look them in the eye and talk to them like the intelligent creatures they were. Each time she got started taking care of a new steed she’d gently reach for the muzzle and say in a soothing voice:

“Hi, my name is Annabeth and I'm going to groom you today. Don’t worry, I'm friends with Percy, and he taught me exactly how to take care of you. If I’m doing something wrong, let him know and he’ll tell me how to fix it. I promise I’ll do my best to make sure you feel like a brand new pegasus.”

Frankly, it was fucking adorable.

Pork-pie had taken a special liking to Annabeth, telepathically asking Percy if she could groom him more often. When he told this to Annabeth she’d beamed and enthusiastically agreed to come down whenever she could. Percy had off-handedly suggested that they take them out for a bit and Annabeth immediately started to release Pork-Pie from his stall.

They flew over camp for what could’ve been minutes or hours. He was lucky that Blackjack could fly himself because Percy couldn’t take his eyes off his flying partner. Her braids held firm, but a few rebellious curls were now whipping with the wind. The atmosphere combined with the speed they were flying, made her cheeks red and splotchy. Her smile is brighter than the sun, and eyes- gods her eyes were going to be the death of him. The sun and her mood (he had this theory that her eyes changed color based on her emotions) had made them almost blue, they are full of laughter, and Percy adores her. And when she directs her sunshine-smile at him, Percy can’t help but smile back.

(He doesn’t stop smiling until they land.)

...

As they're putting their pegusi back in their stalls, Blackjack decides to give him some advice.

“I know I don’t understand all of your fragile human emotions, but I know enough. There’s a lot of bad in this world of ours, and from what you’ve told me about this war business it's only gonna get worse. You gotta make the most of the good.”  He tilts his head over to Annabeth who is cooing at a preening Pork-Pie.

“You and ladyboss, you’re good together. And really nothing else matters.”

He doesn’t have time to even think about a response when Annabeth is walking over from Pork-Pie’s stall, and telling him it's time for a picnic.

...

(“What did Blackjack say to you? You looked kinda flustered when I got you.” Percy almost drops the plate he’s piling with food from the buffet. He’s gotten three pointedly confused looks at the sight of him and Annabeth together and not strangling each other and a thumbs-up from Grover. He and Annabeth are getting their food and then they’ll go sit by the beach.

“Oh,” He clears his throat and goes with the first thing he thinks of. “Blackjack calls you ladyboss.” Good that's good, not technically a lie either.

“Huh. Weird.” Annabeth, seemingly satisfied with this, returns her attention to the grapes she is adding to her plate.)

...

“Where do you go?” Annabeth asks. She’s sitting next to him in the sand brushing crumbs off her fingers. They had been eating and watching the ocean in comfortable silence and Percy furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Lots of days when you’re at camp for lunch and sometimes dinner you just disappear for hours. And I know you aren’t going home because your stuff is still in your cabin. Where do you go?”

It’s not an accusation, just a question. Percy gets the feeling she doesn’t want to know so she can disturb, she just worries. Percy knows her. He knows she’s always planning for the worst and she needs to be able to get to him if there's an emergency.

(It strikes him that she notices when he disappears and he feels guilty but also just a little hopeful. Because she misses him as much as he misses her.)

He stacks their plates and rests them on the blanket they’d been sharing. Percy stands up and holds out his hand, gesturing for Annabeth to do the same.

“C’mon, I’ll show you.”

...

He tells her to close her eyes. She gives him a skeptical look but obliges and holds out her hands, a silent request for him to guide her. It’s almost easier to take her hands in his without those trademark eyes on him. But it’s not any less intense. As soon as their fingers interlock sparks of electricity lick up his arm. Now that her eyes are closed he can look at her face up close without fear. Her curls had gotten more unruly as the day went on, and the ringlets that framed her face blew lightly in the ocean breeze. He leads her slowly towards the ocean, using his powers to dry any spot she walks on. He sees her brows furrow when she notices how far they’ve walked towards the ocean without their feet getting wet, but she doesn’t say anything. He parts the water for her to walk through, and when the water rises above their heads, he forms an air bubble that moves with them, keeping them dry. When they get to a good spot, squeezes her hand signaling for her to stop with him, but tells her to keep her eyes closed. Then he closes his eyes with her and calls out to the ocean's creatures, making himself a beacon.

Here I am, he thinks. The son of Poseidon.

Come to me.

Minutes pass.

“You can open your eyes now.” He whispers.

She does, and lets out a soft gasp, “Oh, Percy.”

He smiles and looks out at the scene before them. He’d come down here after a particularly bad day and just wanted to sit in silence. It was an accident, calling the creatures to him. Subconsciously, he must have sent a message along that he was feeling alone. And all sorts of sea creatures - from greek monsters and to great white sharks to your average cod had flocked to him. And he didn’t feel so alone. So now, whenever he couldn’t take the human world, he’d come down here and talk to the fish.

This time he’d actually concentrated on getting a message out and they did not disappoint. He couldn’t count all the animals that had heeded his call but it was a sight to behold. He had willed some glowing coral from the deeper ocean to stay in that spot, which created a multicolored tint to everything around them.

Normally they come right up close to him, but this time they were hesitant. And as he listened to the creatures and heard more than a few whispers of Athena and stranger, he’s suddenly reminded that she’s the only person he’s ever done this with. It’s his favorite place, and she is the only other person ever to see it.

“It's okay guys, she’s a friend.” He reassures them. When he looked back at Annabeth, her mouth was still hung open and she was staring out at the scene in front of them in wonder. He smiles at her dazed silence and uses the hand he’s still holding to tug her up to the barrier of the bubble. The first creature willing to accept Annabeth is a baby spotted dolphin. He swims towards the clumsily with eager fins and pokes at the barrier with it’s snout. Annabeth's eyes widen in fear and look up at him and it takes a second to realize she isn’t afraid of the animal, but of their bubble popping.

“Don’t worry, the bubble won’t break unless I break it myself, and it’ll last however long I want it to.” He reassures her. He senses her hesitation so he guides her hand up to meet the snout of the baby dolphin who seems fascinated with Annabeth herself. He reaches his snout and head bumps directly into the spot on the bubble where her palm is placed.

Annabeth lets out a laugh, the kind of laugh that sort of bubbles out of you without warning and it’s the best thing Percy’s ever heard. He watches as the shock fades for her features and she pets the infant creature through the sheen of bubble keeping them dry. The animals begin to warm up to Annabeth as well, and as soon as they figure out she’s not some evil Athena agent sent to destroy the ocean, they join in on the fun. Hundreds of ocean creatures of all sizes begin doing tricks, nuzzling up to the flexible barrier, all vying for Annabeth’s attention. Annabeth herself is happy to oblige. Ever consistent, she introduces herself to each creature she meets. She smiles and laughs and reaches out to all the animals she can. Percy is happy simply to watch her and keep the bubble up but then she turns to him, eyebrow drawn together in concern, pointing to a particularly awnry seahorse, and asks what it's saying.

“He says his name is Frank and that he’s ‘too pregnant for this shit.’”

Annabeth stares blankly.

“His words not mine.” Percy offers hands up in surrender.

Then she snorts and then they’re laughing, they’re laughing harder than they have in years, and it's that kind of hysterical laugh where everything around them makes it more funny, and soon Percy’s clutching his stomach and Annabeth is beet red.  As soon as it subsides enough to get words out Annabeth is shaking his arm saying “Do that one! What's he saying? Oh my gods what even is that? Does that one like me? That ones majestic, what's his name? Oh Percy, look!! Look at that one!”

So he translates and they laugh and he teaches her different species and Annabeth nods along like it’s very important stuff. She pets the baby dolphin through the bubble and listens intently to all the animals telling her stories, even though she can’t understand a word until Percy tells her what they said. And when it’s time to go he sees the tears in her eyes and tells Percy to promise the baby that she’ll visit all the time, even though they both know she can’t.

(Apparently the baby dolphins name is Arnold, and according to his mother, he was so enthralled by Annabeth because when he first saw her he thought she was an angel.)

(Percy thinks he’s not too far off.)

...

(“That was incredible Percy. Thank you so much for sharing that with me.” They had been walking in silence as they made their way back to camp using the bubble, enjoying the afterglow of their adventure.

“Yeah, of course.” She smiles at him and looks ahead.

He’s not sure why he does it but without looking at her he reaches out and ever so carefully, and brushes her fingertips with his.

Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t say anything.

Then suddenly, miraculously, her hand tilts and their fingers are interlocked.

And there's no pretense of guiding her somewhere, they’re just….holding hands.

And it's perfect.)

...

Percy thinks if he’s not in love with her, he’s pretty damn close.

Because this feeling, the one he gets in his chest when he looks at her, is what love feels like.  

...

When they resurface, they’re met with twinkling lights and the last three stragglers singing softly at the campfire. It’s almost time for lights out.

Oh.

Oh no.

Annabeth seems to be coming to the same realization, as she clears her throat and lets go of his hand. He misses her fingers immediately.

“So, I guess we should start heading to bed.” She looks at him, hopeful but he’s stuck. Stuck in the feeling of dread at the idea of waking up tomorrow and not having his best friend. Suddenly the idea of leaving her side is so unbearable he can’t speak.

“Goodnight, Percy.” She’s turning around and backing away when the words lodged in his throat come unstuck.

“8 in the morning.” She turns giving him a ‘what are you on about’ look.

“That when you came and got me at 8 in the morning. We agreed on 24 hours. It's only been 12.”

She smiles slow and wide, “You know you're right, that math checks out.”

“We had very clear terms. We even shook on it.”

“Yes we did.”, she nods gravely. “It’s a binding agreement, we can’t just ignore it.”

“So what do we do?”

She flashes a wicked grin. “You aren’t the only one with a secret spot.”

...

Percy arrives in the Big House 20 minutes after curfew was called, exactly as Annabeth had instructed. He felt her presence before she re-materialized in front of him and in a low conspiratorial whisper tells him to follow her.

They sneak down to the basement and Percy is confused when she keeps walking towards the corner. She lifts up a floorboard and starts climbing down a ladder. She beckons him to join her and when he makes it down the ladder, he can’t help the smile that breaks out. It’s a sort of underground attic, complete with a worn dusty couch, blankets and an old TV.

“I found it my first year at camp by accident. I was down doing chores and one of the broom strings got caught under it. I didn’t have many friends except for….” She lets him fill in the blank rather than say the name out loud. “And when he wanted to be with kids his own age, I’d come here. There's only five movies down here and I memorized them.” She looks down at her shoes. “I know it’s not the sea floor but..”

“Are you kidding? It’s awesome. What are the movies?”

They dig around and end up finding two more that apparently seven-year-old Annabeth did not think worth the time. They watch Die Hard first, (“Oh my Gods I can't believe you haven’t watched Die Hard. This is a travesty. It’s a classic Annabeth.”) then Pulp Fiction, ("I can’t believe it, all the shit you gave me for not seeing Die Hard, and you haven’t Pulp Fiction?? You absolute heathen!") and Clueless. ("What? It has to be full of violence and toxic masculinity to be good? It’s a good movie Percy, shut-up.") Before he knows it, it’s 3:54 am shaking with hysterical silent laugher at Annabeth's impression of Dionysus.

“Oh my gods oh-OH! Do you know what we’ve got to do?”

“Uh-oh, what?”

She grins impishly and a little deliriously. “We’ve gotta go to our spot.”

“Ah, of course. Yes, our spot, totally.” He says in a voice he hopes is neutral, in an effort to gage if she’s serious.  

“Oh my gods.” She gasps, offended.

“What.”  

“I can’t believe this.”

“You can’t believe what?”

“You forgot our spot.”

“I’m sorry Annabeth, until four seconds ago I wasn’t aware we had a spot.”

“Oh my gods. I can not believe this-” He can tell she’s messing with him, and not actually mad.

“Annabeth, just tell me where it is.”

“I simply can not believe this, you absolute heathen-”

“Stop calling me a heathen, and tell me where it is.”

She smiles, “I can show you.”

...

“Oh, of course! This is our spot!”

Annabeth chuckles, “I told you.” They’re standing at the edge of the forest at the tallest of the rock clusters to the far left. It's the one they used to go to after their first quest, the place where Annabeth taught him the constellations. The place where he made his first real friend. Not people he hung out with to avoid getting picked on. Not a searcher who happened to like the demigod he found.  His first real best-friend.

They climbed up easily and lay down looking straight up at the sky. Annabeth points up at the floating memorials, and Percy dutifully recites the legends of how they earned their place in the sky. They're shoulder to shoulder and their fingers graze each other for longer than necessary. And slowly they lull into comfortable silence, arms overlapping, at some point Annabeth's head lands on his shoulder. Percy freezes for a while, staying absolutely still as if she’s a wild creature who could bolt at any moment. But then he relaxes, and she relaxes and he’s pretty sure she’s asleep until she takes in a shaky breath and whispers, “Hey, Percy?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re gonna be okay right?” He can tell she's trying to mask the vulnerability in her voice. And he can’t see all of her face from the angle they’re laying, but her nose is on his collarbone, and her hair is tickling his chin.

He closes his eyes, and he thinks. He thinks about Luke and Rachel and how nothings been the same since Percy blew up that mountain.

He thinks about seeing her for the first time, grey eyes wide hair falling off her shoulders and how even after everything he just went through, he felt safe. He thinks about ‘you drool when you sleep’, and the way she looked at him when he was claimed- awestruck and pitiful at the same time. He thinks about rolled eyes, stamped feet, and frustration always just under the surface. He thinks about silent truces, and letting guards down, and shared oreos in the back of a mobile zoo. He thinks about sweaty palms gripping each other in the Underworld, and shaky hands giving him a good luck camp necklace. He thinks about camp fires, stupid jokes, learning about the stars, and how the just fit.

He thinks about postcards and iris-messages, and how she punched Matt Sloane square on the nose. He thinks about how despite the arguing and the confusion about Tyson, she was always there when she needed him. How she didn’t hesitate to sneak out of camp with one of the first species he ever learned to truly fear, because he asked her to. He thinks about her in a dress and how tongue-tied him in guinea pig form. He thinks about her broken sobs and how she clutched at him in their underwater bubble. He thinks about winning a chariot race, the softest of cheek kisses and how in this world of gods and monsters, she’s the only thing he was really sure about.

He thinks about how she was the first girl he ever danced with, and how light everything felt when she was around. He thinks about how it felt strangely familiar when she fell off that cliff, and how only days later realized that it was the same desperation he had when Hades took his mother. He thinks about how gutted it was when he found out she was thinking about joining the Hunters. He thinks about his visit from Aphrodite and how even though she changed form, her hair smelled like lemons the entire time. He thinks about when he saw her on that cliff it was like the sun came out. How he saw her face and it was smudged with dirt and cuts but she was alive and he could breathe again. He thinks about how his throat closed up when he thought Artemis was going to pick her for the Hunt. He remembers how when they danced on Olympus, for a song she was prettier than Aphrodite.

He thinks about planning a movie date, and how he discovered Annabeth doesn’t get any less pretty when she’s mad at him. How she sat right next to him at dinner and how when she fixed his armour, his neck burned wherever she touched him. He thinks about falling in a whole and holding her hand and how they’d done it before but it felt different that time. He thinks about ping pong table meetings and how he became aware of the fact that he’d follow her anywhere. He thinks about the determination in her when she faced the Sphinx, and how the same fire was in them right before she kissed him. He thinks about how she tasted like smoke and salt, and how for the 3.2 seconds that his lips were hers, the first thing he thought was ‘we fit like this too’. He thought he was going to die but it was okay. It was okay that he was going to die, because he had gotten to kiss her. He thinks about Calypso’s Island, and how he dreamt about her every night. How when he crashed his funeral, she held like she couldn’t bear to let go and how that was fine with him. He thinks about the blur that was the labyrinth, full of unshed tears, words that cut, and how despite all the scream fights and the terror, and the barely contained rage, none of it lessened the fierce protectiveness he feels for her. How despite it all, she's still the best thing that's ever fucking happened to him. He thinks about the last line of her prophecy, and how she thought it was about him.

He loves her.

He’s not sure if he’s in love with her because he’s 15 and he hasn’t exactly had time to date around but he knows that for a fact. Knowing Annabeth, loving Annabeth has made him who he is. She is burned into his DNA. Somehow the 12 year old with princess curls and eyes that cut, crawled under his skin. He knows he’s done the same to her, even though they’re both too stubborn to say it out loud. They could never really leave each other, even if they tried.

So Percy shifts so he can see her face in the pale moonlight, brushes a curl out of her face and says,

“Yeah. It’s us Annabeth. We’re gonna be alright.”

She smiles soft and real because she knows him, so she knows he means it. He’s not sure who reaches out this time, but they're holding hands and staring at the sky in a silence that speaks volumes.

They stay like that until it’s sunrise and they have to sneak into their respective cabins. Looking at stars, fighting sleep, and forgetting about the rest of the world.

______________

(They hold hands all the way back to her cabin.)

(He doesn’t stop smiling the whole way back to his own.)

______________

if your still here hi! thank you for reading. send in prompts from this list, or any sentence starter you want to read. ask box is open for those and if you just wanna say hi :)

[kindahoping4forever]

When The Sun Came Up, You Were Looking At Me (Prologue) // Ashton Irwin

It really cannot be overstated how excited @cal-puddies​ and I are for you all to finally start reading this fic!! I searched our chat and we actually came up with the skeleton idea for this sequel only TWO DAYS after Remember When We Couldn’t Take The Heat was posted LAST APRIL and we started seriously writing in SEPTEMBER. This is a long time coming. We hope you love it as much as we do and thank you again for encouraging us to continue this story!

Don’t forget we’re alternating chapters so the story continues tomorrow over on Cass’s blog. And of course, you can find links to everything as it’s posted in the masterlist linked below! 

Warnings: Tension, both dramatic and sexual. Mild angst. Meddling but well-meaning friends. The first smut-free work Cass and I have ever written together (don’t worry, we more than make up for it the rest of the series lmao)

Word Count: 3455

Cass & Crystal’s Masterlist  // Series Masterlist

Let  us  know  what  you  think!

The traffic light changes to green and you turn down Luke and Sierra’s street. You roll your eyes at the quickening of your pulse as you think about the party tonight; you’d give anything to skip it but you know Michael and Crystal really want you there and you can’t not show up for them. 

You feel your nerves settle a bit as you step out of the car and see Sierra waiting at the door for you, happy to have you over to get ready together. She grins wide and pulls you into a warm hug, Luke quickly coming over to engulf you as well. Their excited greetings overlap as they literally smother you with affection and you can’t help but laugh at the fuss they’re making.

“You always disappear for too long,” he murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of your head. 

“Just needed some space,” you say with a shrug. 

“You broke up with Ash, not us,” Sierra reminds you, squeezing your arm. 

“I know, I know,” you nod with a weak smile. 

Luke grabs the bag with your dress in it and takes it to their room while you and Sierra get a drink. “Thank god you’re letting me pre-game,” you joke. 

“How are you feeling about everything?” She asks as you head back with her. 

“Just doin’ my best to be OK,” you admit, without even thinking about Luke overhearing. “It was like… close to an entire year of my life you know? I know it doesn’t seem like much... I just wasn’t ready, you know? And I’m definitely not ready for tonight.” 

Sierra sits on the bed, listening as you sit at her vanity, absentmindedly looking over the beauty products on it.  “It was such an intense relationship, it makes sense you’re not over it yet, babe,” she points out gently.

“I should be over it, though, it was ridiculous. Our whole relationship was based on a foundation of fighting until we fucked to forget why we fought… it didn’t work, we never really communicated about anything.” 

“Well. You already know I’m not a fan of how the breakup went down,” she shakes her head, plugging in the curling iron you’ve been gesturing wildly with. “It’s been a couple months now, you guys still haven’t even texted?”

You scoff, taking a sip of your drink. “Please, we are the king and queen of Stubborn Town, I haven’t seen or heard from that man since I got the last of my stuff from his place,” you shrug. “I guess it still just feels… unfinished. I hate that.”

“I mean, it feels unfinished because you guys left it that way,” she says matter of factly. “You both decided you were done and then just… were? When you love someone, walking away like that doesn’t work.”

“I never said I loved him,” you glare at her through the mirror.

She settles behind you and starts sectioning off your hair. “Never said you didn’t either,” she teases.

Before you know it, 45 minutes have passed and Luke is at the door warning that he’s about to call the Uber; you’re deep into your girl talk catch-up and the knock on the door causes you both to burst into shrieks and giggles, scurrying around the room to finish getting ready.

Miraculously, you get yourselves together in time and as you stand in front of the house waiting for the car to arrive, Luke nudges you gently. “Ash is coming from a meeting on the other side of town, so you’ve got time to relax, he won’t be there for a while,” he reassures you. “And if you feel like you need to leave, let us know and we’ll come up with a reason to swoop you outta there.”

You put your arms around him and squeeze. “I’ve missed you too,” you say with a smile.

Luke tells you and Sierra how nice you both look as he ushers you inside the party. They both watch you scan the room, relaxing once you see Ashton hasn't arrived and then you all break off, making the rounds. 

You greet a few people but end up hanging off to the side, keeping an eye on the door, nervously half-paying attention to anyone who happens to approach you. 

You immediately tense when he enters. Luke moves to welcome him while Sierra comes to you, trying to be a silent support; her babysitting goes from feeling comforting to coddling very quickly and you urge her to go back to mingling. 

You try not to stare but you can’t help it, you haven’t seen him in so long. Even before you were together, when you hated him, it was hard not to be drawn to him. He just has that kind of presence. 

Luke hasn’t left his side since he walked in, chatting away, but you don’t think anything of it. That is, until everyone seems to be finding their place at the various tables and you’re still awkwardly standing to the side. You would typically sit with Luke and Sierra but they’ve made themselves cozy at a table with Ashton and Calum. 

You head for the bar and before you can order, someone comes up beside you. You ignore them until you hear the soft “Hey” fall from his lips, in that lush, slightly accented voice you missed more than you’d care to admit. 

You turn, fully taking him in for the first time tonight; his hair is different than the last time you saw him and he really seems to be feeling himself in his black pants and the lace button-up you used to make fun of. “Hi,” you respond, so quiet that Ash has to lean in to be sure he heard you. 

“Grab your drink and come sit with us,” he says, waving encouragingly. 

“Uh… that’s OK. I might leave,” you shrug. 

He snorts, rolling his eyes at your ridiculous suggestion. “No you won’t. First of all, I know you came with Luke and Sierra and they’re not leaving. Second of all, you’d never let Crystal and Mike down like that. Just come sit,” he insists, gently tugging on the hem of your dress. 

You melt a little inside. This was one of the reasons you liked him so much, he was always so confident that he knew you so well. But it’s also one of the reasons why you fought and he drove you crazy. 

“Fine,” you sigh with a slight smile. He waits for you to order your drink, also making you crazy, like he can’t trust you’ll do as you say.

“There you are!” Sierra smiles as you take the seat across the table from her and Luke. Sitting between Calum and Ashton is a spot you were very familiar being in; they’d constantly lean over you to share a joke and then one of them would fill you in afterwards if you were lucky. Your heart breaks a little when you realize that's not likely to happen now. 

You make small talk with Cal for a bit; you’ve missed his pinchable cheeks and his sweet laugh. You’d spent plenty of time with him when you were with Ashton but hadn’t really kept in touch since the split. He asks you about work and both he and Ash pay close attention as you chat about your job.

Sierra keeps a close eye on the two of you and notices how quickly you get reacquainted. The way Ash naturally rests his arm on the back of your chair. How when he started getting animated with a story, you knowingly shifted all the drinks over until he was finished. How he won’t let himself laugh at his own joke until he checks to make sure you’re laughing first. The hair toss you subconsciously give whenever he does make you laugh.

Later on, she catches him at the refreshment table serving your favorite dessert onto his plate even though it’s something he notoriously doesn’t like. She walks alongside him as he heads back. “You hate that,” she smirks, pointing at the offending dish.

“Oh. Right,” he says, realizing the old habit he just indulged. “She’ll eat it,” he shrugs, quickening his step to avoid any follow-up questions. 

Crystal makes the rounds to thank everyone for coming and stops Sierra with a hug; they chat for a minute but Crystal notices she seems distracted and eventually follows her gaze over to your table. Cal’s deeply invested on his phone, leaving you and Ash chatting by yourselves.

Crystal lightly snorts and leans in to her friend. “What’s old is new again, I guess,” she cups her manicured hand over her mouth to disguise her words. “You think they’ll leave together? I was shocked when she told me they haven’t hooked up even once since they split.”

Sierra shakes her head firmly. “They’re both too stubborn to admit they want even that from each other,” she rolls her eyes. “You should’ve seen how nervous she was to come here tonight.”

“Oh, Ash too,” Crystal whispers. “Ever since we planned this, Michael must’ve gotten at least 5 texts from him casually trying to find out if she was coming.”

Sierra sips her drink, never taking her eyes off your table. “It ended so badly, I can’t get over how comfortable they are with each other… there’s still just so much love there.”

Crystal shrugs. “Well god bless them but think of how long it took them to actually get together,” she points out. “I wouldn’t hold my breath for them to figure out that they called it off too soon.” 

You make light conversation with Ashton, trying to ignore the girls’ gabfest you see out of the corner of your eye; they were both supportive but clearly distraught when you told them about the breakup so you know they’ve got to be eating this up. 

Calum announces he’s stepping away for a cigarette and you and Ash pick at your plates in silence for a few minutes, suddenly feeling the weight of having to interact without a buffer. Finally, he offers up a quiet, “You’ve been good?”

You answer perhaps a little too quickly, nod perhaps a little too vigorously, eager to mask any implication of hurt feelings. “Yep. Busy. But good.”

He fiddles with the tablecloth. “You know... I meant to call sometime but it never felt right and then things got crazy with the band…”

“It’s fine,” you interrupt, shaking your head. “I didn’t check in either. Didn’t think you’d answer,” you laugh weakly.

He smiles and you hate how warm you feel at the sight. “Why did I always assume you were a ‘fuck that guy, delete his number as soon as you’re out the door’ kind of ex?”

Your heart sinks and you’re not sure why; it takes you a moment to realize it’s because this is the first time you’ve actually thought of yourself as “his ex.” You steady yourself. “Usually am. Decided to be mature on this one. You’re still at the top of my contacts. Listed under ‘Asshole,’ obviously,” you giggle.

“Ah, my favorite of your pet names,” he laughs along with you.

You talk for a few more minutes until Crystal makes her way over; Ash slips away while the two of you catch up and shortly after, you get a text from Luke asking if you’re ready to go. Your eyes scan the room though you aren’t sure what exactly you’re searching for, because you’re totally fine leaving without saying goodbye to Ashton. 

You're quiet on the ride back to Sierra and Luke’s and while you collect your things from their bedroom, she gently checks in.

“See, tonight wasn’t so bad,” she muses. 

“No, it was OK. Good to see everyone,” you shrug. “...Ash looks healthy.” 

“He looks good,” Sierra says pointedly. You say nothing. 

“You sure you’re good to drive?” Luke asks, coming into the room and sitting next to his girlfriend on the bed. “You know you’re always welcome to stay here.” 

“I’m fine, Luke,” you chuckle. You turn and hug them both. “I love you both, I’ll text when I’m home.” They respond by kissing the top of your head and you chuckle fondly as you leave. 

“They seemed OK tonight,” Luke mentions while they get ready for bed.

“They were more than OK, those stubborn kids couldn’t have been more into each other,” Sierra rants. “I think they really miss it, they just won’t admit it.”

“Oh, Ash definitely misses her. I swear, he talked about her less when they were together,” he jokes. Sierra raises an eyebrow, which Luke takes as encouragement to continue rambling about everything Ash had told him. “He knows they fought a lot but he even misses that... he’s been saying he’s glad he never told her he loved her, though. Things would’ve been a lot harder. Messier. I dunno, he’s always asking about her.”

You get home and drop your bag right inside the door with a huge, exhausted sigh and pull out your phone to text Luke and Sierra before heading to your room. You throw open the closet and it only takes you a couple seconds to spot what you’re looking for: that hoodie that Ash left behind and you never bothered to return. 

You stare at it for a beat and then leave to wash your face and brush your teeth; you already know what you’re about to do but you still try to talk yourself out of it. Back in the bedroom, you reluctantly grab the hoodie off of its hanger, change into it and climb into bed. You hold the sleeves to your face and breathe Ashton in; long, deep breaths, letting his smell fill your nostrils. You’ve done this more times than you’d care to admit these past few months; you miss him here, in your space. You curl in a ball and drift off, taking comfort in his scent surrounding you. 

You’re woken up early by your phone buzzing on the nightstand. You see it’s Sierra and pick it up, groaning, making sure she can hear it. “S?”

“Hey babe… can we lunch?” She bubbles. 

“You couldn’t have texted?”

“Sorry, Sunshine, just wanted to hear your lovely voice… and get a definite answer out of you. 1 o’clock, don’t be late!” She sing-songs, hanging up. 

You check your notifications and your heart sinks, not seeing anything from Ashton. You weren’t sure why you thought you would. You curl up and go back to sleep for a while. 

Sierra knows you well enough to guess you fell back asleep without setting an alarm and she starts blowing you up around noon. You text that you’ll see her soon and you start getting ready. You use the most fragrant soap you can find for your shower, ensuring the smell of Ashton's cologne doesn't linger on your skin.

You walk into your usual lunch place and easily spot Sierra on the patio. "Drinks are on their way," she shares as you take your seat.

You chat breezily about the party: how good the food was, how Michael's DJ setup was so much more elaborate than at the last party you attended, how much you loved what Crystal had worn. You wonder out loud if Cal had gone home with the girl he'd been making eyes at all night and Sierra seizes the opportunity to steer the conversation to her topic of choice.

"Speaking of making eyes," she takes a prolonged sip from her glass. "Things seemed a little intense with Ash last night."

You give her a tight-lipped smile, determined not to give her anything she can blow out of proportion. "I told you it was fine. Easier than I expected in a lot of ways, harder in others."

She places her hand on your arm from across the table. "I looked over a few times and saw him with his arm over your chair, you watching him talk… it was like we were back at that resort again," she says wistfully.

You evaluate her face for a moment. Since she's one of your best friends, you're used to being lovingly annoyed with her meddling in your life but sometimes you forget that it comes from a place of genuine love and concern for you. "Regardless of how things turned out, I'll always be grateful you forced me to stay on that trip," you smile. "That was some once in a lifetime kind of shit."

"From what I heard down the hall, sure sounded like it," she teases, grinning as you playfully shoo her hand off your arm. "That anniversary's coming up quick, isn't it?"

"Next week," you blurt, wincing at how quickly you answer.

"We'll have to think of something fun to do together," she declares carefully. "Not that you need it, but just in case you don't want to be alone."

This time you reach over and squeeze her hand. "I'm sorry I haven't been around like I used to, S. I just… needed time," you admit. "It's still hard. Most of the time, actually. But being around you and Lu again feels good. I think I need the support more than I realized."

"Babe," she pouts. "We were there for you before Ash, during Ash and we want to be there for you post-Ash. We love you."

You feel better than you thought you would as you head back to your car. Being honest with Sierra - and yourself - was easier than you expected. You briefly think about texting Ash - nothing major, something chill like "fun catching up last night" - but think better of it.

Sierra gets to her car and immediately texts Crystal, who requested an update when she heard you were getting lunch. She suggests asking Cal’s perspective to get the full picture of where Ash is at, so Sierra calls him on the drive home. 

“Hey Sweet Boy!” She greets him. 

“Sierra!” She can hear the grin on his face at the nickname. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” 

“Well, I wanted to ask you how Ash is. I mean, I know what Luke tells me but I feel like he gives you more,” she explains. 

“How do you mean? You saw him last night?” 

“How has he been since the breakup?” She emphasizes. 

“Oh… OH!! Oh! What are you planning? Please tell me you’re doing something, he’s making me crazy. I don’t know what came over him last night,” Cal babbles. 

“I think Luke had a hand in that,” Sierra admits with a sigh. “She came over to get ready with me and I think he probably shared some things he shouldn’t have. You know how he is.”

“What’s in that beautiful brain of yours?” Cal murmurs, letting out an excited little laugh. Out of everyone, he tends to enjoy Sierra’s plans like this the most, especially when they aren’t directed toward him. 

“I don’t know yet… I feel like we just need to get them talking alone again like they were last night, remind them what was there...” she muses. She talks through a few ideas with Calum and he’s on board for any of them.

By the time she gets home, Sierra is raring to go; she practically runs up the stairs to ask Luke for his help.

“Hey hun!” He greets her with a smile when she raps on the door to his studio. He moves the guitar off his lap, silently inviting her to come lay on the couch while they talk. “How was lunch, how’s our girl?”

She fills him in on everything: your mood, your conversation and the consulting she’s been doing among the friend group. Luke seems interested but about halfway through becomes engrossed in his phone and Sierra sits up, irritated. “Babe, you asked, are you even listening?”

He briefly looks concerned and then grins. “Sorry, just distracted by Ash blowing up the group chat, asking if anyone wants to go away next week so he doesn’t have to deal with their anniversary,” he proudly holds up his phone.

Her jaw drops at the opportunity that’s fallen at their feet. “What if…” She starts furiously typing into her phone. “Yes… that house you guys stayed at when you were planning the last album is free.”

“Palm Springs? OK, so…” Luke trails off, trying to follow her logic.

“Band retreat for the boys. Self-care trip for the girls,” she answers, shooting off texts to Crystal, Mike and Cal. 

“That house really isn’t big enough for all of us,” he comments, still lost.

She finally looks up at him, smiling widely. “It’s a good thing they’ll be the only ones going, then.”

————-

Taglist is breaking the links in the post and I currently do not have the brainpower to figure out the problem lol. We’ll try again tomorrow but in the meantime, if you aren’t notified, you can always check the masterlist which will be updated everyday!

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[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 3

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Winter soldiers on, the cold and occasional snow giving way to the promise of spring. Her birthday comes and goes, celebrated at her mother’s with her family as it had been before there was someone else to lay claim to her time on special days. The vacant spaces in her apartment that had been occupied by Ethan’s books and clothes, his toiletries, and VHS collection, begin to be filled by evidence of her new, single life. Her solitary toothbrush in the cup by the sink starts to look normal, the indent on her finger where his ring lived begins to fade, and the silence she arrives home to at the end of her workday becomes mundane instead of painful. Though this change was initiated and welcomed by her, change is always hard. She goes through the motions of being okay until one day in early April, she realizes that she is. The budding crocuses bring with them the optimism of a new life, another chance. A third chance, as it were, to get it right. Now she only has to figure out what right is.

Though they’ve always been close, she and Missy become even closer, taking up the space in each other’s lives that would otherwise be consumed by boyfriends or lovers. They are each other’s better half, sharing the minutiae of their workdays and staying available for unexpected illness or the need to move heavy furniture. While every human needs other humans to thrive, the Scully sisters fill that need with each other, shunning the idea of casual dating simply for the sake of companionship. There is no companion more perfect than the one who has known you since before you could understand the need for such a partner in life, and who is by your side not out of obligation, but because their soul is stitched so firmly to your own. They have always pledged their dedication to each other through thick and thin, and the new year of 1997 proves that to be a sincere promise on both their parts.

As such, they sit at their favorite local coffee shop on Sunday afternoon when Missy finally dares to ask her sister the question she’s avoided for the past four months. Not because she was afraid of her reaction, but because she knew Dana wasn’t ready to talk about it.

“Have you heard from Mulder at all?” she asks so casually that Dana flicks her eyes up and stares in disbelief, not sure that she heard her right.

“What?” Dana asks, her heart having lept for one single beat at the mention of his name.

“Mulder. Have you had any contact with him, or seen him?” Missy is misleadingly casual, acting as though this is not a question she’s been waiting months to ask.

“No,” Dana says flatly, her eyes dropping down to her coffee cup. “I wouldn’t expect to.”

“Does he know that you and Ethan split?” Missy asks next, her feet folded underneath her in the oversized armchair.

“I don’t see how he would,” Dana posits.

“Have you considered reaching out to him?” Missy tries, watching her sister for signs that she is going to shut the conversation down.

Dana shakes her head glumly. “After what I put him through, I’m sure I’m the last person he wants to hear from. That was nearly nine months ago, he’s probably long since moved on.”

“Have you? Moved on?”

Dana pulls in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I don’t know how to answer that. What does it mean, to move on?”

“Do you still think about him?” No assertions, just gentle questions, leading her sister to the conclusion she knows she needs to come to.

Dana nods softly. “All the time. Every day.”

“Then I think your answer would be no. You should contact him, Dana. It feels like unfinished business.” Missy has a thing about unfinished business. She believes it prevents you from achieving your full potential in life.

“Missy...what would I even say? ‘Sorry I broke your heart, good news is it didn’t even work out so it was all for nothing’? I don’t want to cause him more pain than I already have.” Her tone is resigned and defeated. Another regret she will come to live with, pinned to her lapel with a collection of other mistakes that she can never quite atone for.

Missy shrugs. “You know what I think. The rest is up to you.”

Missy is right. The trouble is, she doesn't trust herself to make these decisions anymore. She’s proven to herself that she doesn’t know how to make the right one.

———

“Excuse me,” a rough, nasally voice calls from behind her. She turns to see a red nosed young man in the doorway of the pathologist’s office, slumped against the doorframe with watery eyes. “I’m here to pick up an autopsy report, for, um...I think it’s Richards or something.”

Scully has worked with this courier before, and compared to his typical demeanor it’s easy to tell that he’s unwell.

“Are you alright?” she asks as she uses her feet to push her rolling chair over to the file cabinet, retrieving the report in question.

“Uh, not really, no. But if I call out sick one more time I’m gonna get canned.” He leans his head against the cool metal of the doorframe. She suspects he’s feverish.

“You don’t look well enough to work. Where is this headed?” she asks, still holding the file in her hand.

The young man blows out a stream of air and she holds her breath for a moment, not wanting to inhale whatever he’s infected with. He pulls a slip of paper from his pocket. “Hoover Building, Behavioral Science Unit. Agent Kissop.” He stuffs the paper back in his pocket and looks around, taking refuge in the extra chair near the end of her desk.

She feels a little flutter in her belly; what are the odds?

“I’ll tell you what,” she begins, “I was just about to head out for the day and I live in Georgetown, so I’m going that way anyway. Can I drop this off for you? You don’t look well enough to drive and I’d hate to see you on the news in the morning if you cause an accident.”

He sighs deeply, the biggest display of excitement he can muster. “Are you sure? I’d really appreciate it,” he says, his eyelids barely maintaining half-mast.

“No problem at all,” she replies, gathering her coat and purse. “You get home and take some Tylenol, okay? And get some rest.”

He nods weakly and she leaves him there, climbing into her car with the file and a pounding heart. She can’t help but feel like this is a sign. She’s been thinking about signs a lot lately, and she’s recently resolved to start paying attention to them.

———

Mulder stands beside the copy machine, doing his Wednesday afternoon ritual of fighting with the toner cartridge and cursing profusely. From around the corner, he can hear AD Kirkbride drumming up his own song of profanity, which is more of a daily ritual than a weekly one.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Kirkbride is shouting. “Now that dipshit is conning goddamn doctors into doing his pathetic job?”

Another much softer voice answers him, but Mulder can’t quite make out the words. He moves closer to the open door, bored enough to bother eavesdropping and seeing which of his colleagues is going to get their ass handed to them today.

“Yeah, I’m sure he is sick, that fucking lowlife. He’s sick every fucking week, it’s always something with him!”

“Sir, I don’t know what the history is between you and the courier,” answers the other voice, and it’s familiar in a way that makes him stop in his tracks, his stomach clutching in a mix of nervousness and excitement. “Can you direct me to Agent Kissop, please? Then I’ll be on my way and you can work it out with the courier service.”

It’s Scully. It’s her, he’s sure. He’s been dreaming of that voice for months, the soft sibilant S’s and the way her plush lips rest against her adorable overbite. Without thinking, he enters Kirkbride’s office and sees her standing in front of his desk with a file in her hand and an exasperated look on her face.

“Scully?” he asks, and she turns to him. Her hair is a bit longer, now just past her shoulders, and she’s wearing black slacks and a white blouse. She’s as beautiful as ever, maybe even more than he remembered. She doesn’t look all that surprised to see him. If anything, she looks relieved. Emotion boils up in his chest immediately and he feels his throat constrict.

“You know her?” Kirkbride asks, gesturing to Scully, and Mulder nods. “Great, then show her where Kissop sits so I can call the fucking courier service and tell them to fire that lazy asshat before I strangle him.”

Scully walks towards him and he turns wordlessly to show her out of Kirkbride’s office and down the hall to where Kissop sits. His heart is beating slowly but firmly, his pulse resounding in his ears. What is she doing here? Did she come here to see him? And if so, why? When they arrive at Kissop’s desk, Scully hands her the file and they exchange words that Mulder doesn’t bother to listen to. Then Scully looks at him hesitantly and slowly turns to walk away, towards the exit. He feels suspended, unsure if he can believe his own eyes that she is really here, and entirely conflicted over what to do about it if she is. He’s spent nine months trying to forget her, but she’s as real and alive as ever, standing before him. His self-protective instinct says to let her go, but his heart says to run after her.

“Quit standing here like a dumbass and go talk to her,” Kissop orders him, clearly picking up on some tension though she doesn’t have the faintest idea what’s causing it.

Shaken from his daze, Mulder follows Scully into the hallway.

“Scully,” he calls out, and she stops walking but doesn’t turn around. When he catches up to her, he touches her shoulder and she turns to face him with wet eyes.

They stand there for a moment, looking at one another, an expectant feeling hanging over them. He wants to touch her, to feel the press of her body against his again, but he doesn’t dare. That would seem like a relapse, of sorts.

“Would you have coffee with me?” she finally speaks, her voice small and unsure. It’s an invitation she is not at all confident he will accept.

“Okay,” he answers, and they walk out of the building side by side, silently.

They seem to understand without saying so that Mulder will lead them to where they ought to go, which is a little cafe called Burial Grounds just a block from the front doors of the Hoover Building. They stand in line stoically, tension crackling between them like static as they order something that will occupy their hands and give them a safe place to avert their eyes while they talk. They sit at a small table near the door and wait, glimpsing at each other’s faces and then away, summoning courage. Because this was at Scully’s invitation, it seems like she should have the floor.

“Ethan and I aren’t together anymore,” she finally blurts out, and his first instinct is to look at her hand, which is indeed bare of any jewelry. Next he looks at her face, considering her expression and whether she takes this to be good news or bad. She looks pained, but not about what she’s just said. She’s had this look on her face since he first spotted her in Kirkbride’s office. He’s unsure if he should be offering congratulations or condolences, and irritated that he’s being put in the position to figure it out, so he says nothing.

“I’m sure that I’m just about the last person you want to see,” she continues, her ocean irises tracing the logo printed on her cup. It wasn’t a question, but if it were he’d tell her that she’s the only person he wants to see, the only one he ever thinks about. The reason he can’t sleep and, when he does, the only thing he dreams about. “If it’s okay, there are some things I’d like to say to you. I understand if you don’t want to hear them.”

She flicks her eyes up to meet his for a moment and he nods softly, keeping his expression neutral. She returns her gaze to the skull and crossbones bearing the name of the coffee shop.

“I have always believed that life is about making the right choices. That we are presented with an ongoing series of options, opportunities and situations, and that we are tasked with determining the right choice that will put us on the path towards the best possible life. But as of late,” she pauses to take a sip of her coffee, stealing a glance at him before she continues, “I’ve come to believe that there is actually only one choice. One path we’re supposed to be on, and there are signs along the way to pay attention to. The choices might not always make sense at the time, but in the grand scheme of things, they are the ones you need to make in order to have the best possible life. Or the right life, the one you’re supposed to have.”

She pauses and slides her hand across the table, covering his with her own. The soft warmth of her skin electrifies him a little, sending a flush to his belly. She brings her eyes up to meet his, her brows knit with emotion as her chin gently puckers. She’s so beautiful it physically hurts.

“I ignored the signs,” she says tightly. “I made the wrong choice, Mulder. I thought I was doing the right thing, the best thing, but I was wrong. I’m so sorry that I hurt you.”

He feels his chest tighten, a telltale precursor to tears, and he looks away from her. Why is she doing this? To make herself feel better? She pulls her hand back and sniffs, then stands and slings her purse over her shoulder.

“Thank you for having coffee with me,” she says, and then he watches her leave. He sits there, staring at the pink lipstick that stains the rim of her cup, wishing she’d given him some more time to absorb it all. Wishing she’d never made the wrong choice.

[ziggy-of-stardust]

FIRE ON FIRE: chapter five.

Two hours.

Two hours of pure lateness and Sander couldn't believe that he couldn't just be on time, or answer the phone just to say "Hey, I'll be there in a minute" or whatever.

It was already the third cup of coffee he had ordered and the waitress had already stopped asking if he would like another, she just brought it.

The papers of drafts of a story they were supposed to create were spread out on the table full of unfinished versions, versions too personal to be finished or put into that project, but for some reason everything Sander wrote always seemed to come too close to home.

— Good morning! — Robbe's voice echoed, causing them to turn their heads to make sure it was indeed the boy, following him with their gaze until he removed his jacket and leaned back in his chair before finally sitting down.

— You are late.

— Yeah, sorry about that. — There was something wrong, Sander was aware that he knew nothing about the boy beyond his first and last name, but there was definitely something wrong with the way he apologized and looked at the cafeteria floor, seconds later he raised his head as if remembering that he was being watched and smiled weakly at the blond.

— Don't do that again, we need to finish this today.

Robbe nodded, watching in confusion as Sander collected all the drafts, organized them, and put them in the backpack.

— What is this? Are you finished yet? — He pointed to the backpack. — Typical.

— What?

— Why did you call me to do this when you could have done it all yourself just like you did?

— Why would you be two hours late for an important assignment and think that you have the right to interrogate me about whether or not I am finished? No, I haven't, Ijzermans!

Silence took over, as if completely ignoring the clients who were in the same scenario and all that was left was one refusing to look at the other. Sander put the money under the cup and stood up pulling his backpack to leave, but at the same moment, the weight of responsibility was what made him sit in the chair again facing Robbe who looked at them confused and wondering if he should get up and go away.

— Listen, there's no chance of us getting along, but I really need this opportunity to finish the sculpture. Without a partner, there's no grade so can we just... finish it soon, please?

— Is Sander Driesen begging? Not even in my wildest dreams did I imagine this.

— Okay, forget it.

— Wait! Sorry, I just needed to make a joke to lighten the mood. I need that note too, so how about a deal?

— A deal?

— We finish at least half of the work today, but no fighting.

— Can you be punctual and at least a little responsible?

— And can you be less arrogant and smile more?

I like your smile, Robbe thought.

— Okay, it's a deal.

— Nice doing business with you, Driesen.

In the late afternoon, when the moon appeared in the sky, the completed story left both satisfied as they returned home.

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[taetaespeaches]

“Is that drawer still available?”

namjoon x reader (or oc) genre: fluff; angst word count: 3.8K

a/n: Hi lovelies! This is what takes place after Joon and Daisy have their fight (sort of fight?) in “The strings are attached already.” We start with Joon’s perspective of things before moving back into Daisy’s mind. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :)) 

Oh, also, this features a bit of Yoongi, coming in clutch with some subtle-ish advice. 

p.s. this also fulfills a prompt request by @bulletproof-eternally​ (hi love) from ages ago: “We could be an epic novel of forbidden lovers. Like Romeo and Juliet, but without the ending.” 

THE beat sounding from Yoongi’s monitor was hardly even registering in Namjoon’s mind with you filling every corner of it, taking over each one of his thoughts.

Staring at the screen mindlessly, he didn’t recognize Yoongi’s voice calling for his attention until at least the fifth time the older man spoke, “Namjoon.” Eyes snapping to his work partner, Yoongi shrugged. “What do you think?”

Running his hand over his face, Namjoon sighed. “Play it again.” Without asking the questions that were present in his mind, Yoongi simply restarted the instrumental.

As the beat played on, Yoongi interjected thoughts such as, “this is where you could do your verse,” and “I’m thinking a pre-chorus by Jin and Tae here.” But at receiving no response, Yoongi paused the music and turned to Namjoon. “What the hell is going on with you today?”

“Huh?” Namjoon asked in surprise. “Nothing, I just- I’m gonna get a coffee.” Yoongi huffed, sitting back in his chair as he stared at the monitor, the unfinished beat with an impending deadline putting him on edge. “Do you want-” Namjoon started to offer as he began to stand up, but slamming his knee of Yoongi’s desk sent him right back in the chair. “Fuck!”

Yoongi looked at his younger member in concern, not sure what to do for the man. “You ok?”

“I’m fine,” Namjoon said dismissively and shortly.

“Yeah, sure you are,” Yoongi retorted disbelievingly. Placing a hand to the younger man’s shoulder to keep him seated, Yoongi stood and walked toward the exit. “I’ll get the coffee,” he said just before slipping through the door.

Namjoon needed to get his head on straight. Replace the relationship problems from his nonexistent relationship with concerns of work. That’s what he needed to do.

But when Yoongi returned with the coffee, and Namjoon proceeded to spill the hot liquid over his own hand, he realized removing you from his thoughts would be an impossible task. He was distracted by you and the look on your face as you tried to hold back tears. Even if they were of your own doing, they hurt him to see.

“Ok, what the hell is wrong with you today?” Yoongi asked, beyond annoyed by his friend’s lack of focus.

“Nothing, I just need to reel my thoughts in,” Namjoon told him, trying to avoid a conversation about you with his band member who hardly knew you were a concern to be had.

“Maybe it would help to talk about it,” Yoongi suggested, feigning disinterest as he took a sip of his coffee. When Namjoon scoffed, Yoongi simply shrugged. “We’re not getting any work done anyway so,” the man said, cutting himself off as he awaited Namjoon’s next words.

“What are you meant to do when you’re seeing someone and want to make things more exclusive and official but they’re resisting?” Namjoon asked, embarrassment spreading across his cheeks in a light pink tint.

However, Namjoon didn’t realize how close the question would hit Yoongi, the older man clearing his throat as he sat up, setting his coffee down. “Uh, why do you ask?” The two guys sat in silence for a moment, Namjoon giving Yoongi a look as if to say, you know why. “So I met the reason last week,” Yoongi realized, Namjoon nodding. “It’s safe to assume you two aren’t just friends then?” Yoongi asked dumbly, Namjoon letting out a single laugh.

“Uh, yeah,” Namjoon breathed out. “Haven’t been since the first night.”

“Right,” Yoongi nodded awkwardly, acting as though he didn’t already know you and Namjoon were fucking around. “So you want to be more and she doesn’t?”

“Yup,” Namjoon nodded, staring in front of him at the beat displayed on the screen. “Maybe I deserve it.”

“What?” Yoongi asked, eyebrows pulled together in question at the ridiculous statement. “What are you on about?”

“I just think- Maybe she’s too good for me,” Namjoon said, rather pathetically in Yoongi’s opinion. However, the look on his face showed the older man that Namjoon was in serious doubt about his own worth.

“That’s ridiculous, you’re great,” Yoongi told the man bluntly, Namjoon looking toward his friend but avoiding his gaze. “Look, I don’t know her all that well yet, but it was obvious to every single person in the dorm last week that she likes you as much as you like her.”

“Well, I mean, that’s how it feels sometimes but then why won’t she be with me?” Namjoon asked in frustration. “She’s so confusing.”

“She is with you,” Yoongi pointed out to Namjoon with a sense of understanding. “It’s just the label that’s scaring her.”

“Scaring her?” Namjoon asked, not having totally thought of that possible conclusion himself. He knew you were holding yourself back, but he assumed it had to do him and his worthiness.

“She’s probably scared of committing for whatever reason,” Yoongi shrugged. “And it’s probably not related to you. If it is it’s probably because she doesn’t feel deserving or something, I don’t know.”

Pulling his eyebrows together in curiosity, Namjoon met his older member’s eyes. “How do you know this?”

“Experience,” Yoongi said simply before grabbing the mouse and clicking something on the screen.

Nodding slowly, Namjoon realized just how much his friend had been keeping from him. “How long have you been seeing whoever is on the other end of that phone you’re always on?” He asked with an edge of playfulness in his tone.

Trying to hold back the curve of his lips, Yoongi smiled as he continued facing the screen. “It’s new.” Namjoon smirked, happy for his member having found someone, even if he was holding out on introducing her. “But I almost fucked it up. Because she’s too good. And I thought I was undeserving.” Yoongi didn’t elaborate anymore on the subject, but Namjoon understood what he was saying.

“Well, shit,” Namjoon breathed out in realization that there was probably an entire thought process going on in his potential lover’s head that he knew nothing about. “I should probably talk to her, huh?”

Nodding, Yoongi took a glance at his younger friend. “Just ask her about it. I can almost guarantee it has nothing to do with you not being good enough,” he gave the tiniest of reassuring smiles. “It’s probably the opposite.”

Sighing deeply, Namjoon thought of you and the internal conflict that must be going on inside your head at the moment. That is until Yoongi interrupted his thoughts, pulling Namjoon’s attention back to the work that needed to be done.

“Or maybe it is you and you should just forget about this whole thing and focus on this fucking song that’s due today,” he teased in a joking tone, Namjoon letting out a light chuckle.

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” he apologized bashfully. “Restart the track, I’m here now.”

When Namjoon left his apartment that morning, you were still there, failing to hold back tears as rain threatened to fall outside. He left you with a decision: stay and be with him, or leave, possibly for good. When he returned that afternoon, the rain was pouring, drenching his hair and clothes as the weight of your decision sat heavy in his mind.

The trek from the doors of the apartment building to the elevator had his heart racing more than usual, the fear of what he’d find, or not find, within his home suffocating the man. How would he accept the conclusion to this thing with you if you weren’t there?

Over the course of your fling, he’d come to know your heart as a hearth. The center of his home. He’d felt its warmth, the comfort and security you provided. But he also knew the bitter cold that chilled him to the bone when you locked him out. He wasn’t sure anyone else’s warmth would be able to thaw his numb existence if you walked out of his life.

Yet, reaching his apartment door, he still had hope. Because no matter how many times you’d tried to keep him at a distance, you always pulled him even closer than before. He trusted you. You’d given him a million reasons to expect disappointment, and he still believed in you.

Unlocking the door and pushing it open, all he could hear was the drum of his heart pounding against his chest. Scanning the living space, his heart dropped just slightly at no trace of you. But the hope remained. You could still be in the bedroom. Or the bathroom. He felt you in there still. It didn’t feel like an abandoned home.

Calling out your name, he strode toward the bedroom, peeking inside the open door to see… emptiness. The room was filled with his belongings, as full of meaning and personality as ever, but it felt so barren. With the bathroom door down the hall open as well, his heart stopped for a moment. You were gone.

Entering the bedroom, he scanned the space, the chill of the outdoors already filling the typically warm area. Or perhaps it was the absence of you. The top drawer of his dresser, the one he offered to you, was left ajar, drawing him closer to check its contents.

If there could just be one piece of you in there, just a single item, he’d have that hope to hold onto for just a bit longer. He approached the furniture much slower than he did the bedroom, his confidence significantly faltering the longer he stood in the apartment without you there.

With his index finger, he tugged the drawer open just a bit more as he peered over the edge to look inside. A sharp exhale left him as tears instantly pricked his eyes, a lump of emotion forming in his throat. It was empty.

Placing his palm flat against the outside of the drawer, he prepared to slam it shut when the dirty clothes hamper to the side of the dresser caught his eyes. Appearing purposefully placed, sitting on top of his clothing, was your lost shirt. As if you mindlessly placed it there, unknowingly designating the domestic space as a shared one.

Slowly, he reached for the garment, lifting it out of the hamper just as the echo of the front door opening filled the otherwise silent apartment. His legs were moving him toward the bedroom door before his mind could even comprehend the situation.

He was standing in the door frame before his head and heart caught up with him. There you were, the drenched t-shirt he offered you that morning hanging off your frame, your hand clenched over the strap of a tote bag, your eyes wide as you stared at him in surprise, your chest heaving as if you ran all the way there. The sight of you simultaneously knocking the air from his lungs and filling them with life.

Lifting the tote you carried, gesturing to the contents, you sighed. “Is that drawer still available?”

Heart racing, you watched as Namjoon marched toward you, your eyes filling with tears because it was him. And he was yours. Fuck, you were terrified, but he was worth it. When his arms clasped around your waist, pulling you tightly against his frame, your arms easily wrapped around the back of his neck as you exhaled in relief.

“God, I’m so sorry,” you mumbled against his face as you pressed repeated kisses to his cheek. “I’m so so sorry.”

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he complained lightheartedly, pulling away just enough to bring his lips to yours, pecking you softly in a quick succession.

“You’re home early,” you explained between kisses. “I meant to be here when you got back.” The man’s lips curved into a grin, his stunning dimples greeting you.

You did mean to be there. You meant to have that fucking drawer filled with your belongings. You meant to be sitting in his room when he returned, smiling at him, telling him you wanted him and you were sorry that the decision wasn’t this simple from the start but it was simple now and you were choosing him.

To be honest, the conversation with Jungkook a week ago had been weighing on your mind. He’s happy with you, Jungkook had told you. Namjoon was happy with you. And you were happy with him. It was that simple.  

Resting his forehead against your own, his rapid breathing began evening out, your fingers running comfortingly along his neck. “I’m sorry for keeping you in the dark,” you apologized sincerely, a tear sliding down your face. “For giving you so many mixed signals.”

“No, no,” he quickly negated, dropping the shirt to your feet as his hands came to hold your face, his thumb wiping away the tear. “I’m sorry for putting pressure on you,” he counter-apologized, you shaking your head sadly.

“Joon, don’t do that. Don’t you dare apologize,” you cried. “You’ve been so amazing, you just- you are amazing. Like so amazing that you terrify me,” you admitted, Namjoon pulling away from you so his eyes could scan your features, his thumb catching another tear as it escaped your bottom lash line.

“I terrify you? Babe, how is that possible? You scare the living hell out of me,” he chuckled, you letting out a light laugh with him as you glanced downward.

“I gained feelings for you so easily, and-” you looked up to meet his intense gaze. “You’re so incredible, and this kind of thing,” you gestured between you both, “doesn’t always work out,” you explained, Namjoon’s stare softening in slow realization. “You’re so much to lose.”

“Babe,” he whispered empathetically, your words paralleling the talk he had with Yoongi. You weren’t holding back because Namjoon wasn’t good enough, but rather because you felt he was so good. And the thought of losing something so good was too much to bear.

“I didn’t plan on feeling this way toward you, and when it happened so quickly, I just got scared,” you sobbed, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout as tears fell onto your cheeks. “If I lost you, I don’t know if I’d recover,” you told him, followed by a sniffle.

When tears formed in Namjoon’s own eyes, your heart swelled in affection and you wanted to protect him. “I just have had this persistent belief stuck in my brain that it’s better to not have something so great at all than to have it and lose it,” you explained shaking your head. “But that’s so stupid, because you’re the best and I want you, I’ve wanted you. I’m still scared but I fucking want you, Joon.”

The man didn’t say anything, instead choosing to kiss you hard, the action full of passion and understanding, his lips working perfectly against your own. Before, you wondered if you and Namjoon had met in another lifetime. In that moment, however, it felt as though you’d been waiting for this in every lifetime, or possibly fighting it, never fully getting it. Getting him. But in this moment, this lifetime, you finally got it right.

Pulling away from the kiss, Namjoon’s hands held your face as his eyes scanned your features. Letting out a breath, he wrapped his arms around your head in a hug, your face finding solace against his neck, his skin still wet but characteristically warm as always. “When I got home and you weren’t here, I could see my whole life continuing on without you and everything was,” he sighed, “cold.”

“Joonie,” you whispered, your face scrunching up in emotion.

“You make me happy,” he assured you. And there were those words again that made this whole thing so simple. “Being vulnerable around you- I’m scared too,” he admitted. “And maybe the fear of losing all of this will always be there, because we are a lot to lose. But we’re so much more to gain.”

The words sunk in slow but penetrated deep within you, his sentiment being the first time you ever thought about fear and love going hand in hand. Of course it was scary. Life is unpredictable. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t live while you can, especially when something so wonderful presents itself. And with that thought in mind, you had no doubt that you were exactly where you wanted to be.

“Do you still want me to be your girlfriend?” You asked through a small smile, Namjoon loosening the hug to look at you, his lips curving up, his dimples appearing as perfect divots. “Because if so, I would really like for you to be my boyfriend.”

“Then it looks like you’re my girlfriend now,” he grinned happily, kissing your forehead gently.

“Say it again,” you whispered.

“What? You’re my girlfriend?” His eyebrows raised with the teasing question.

“Yeah,” you giggled, kissing the man’s lips tenderly. “Again.”

“You’re my girlfriend,” he repeated before deepening the kiss.

Losing yourselves in the kiss, his lips on yours, your fingers threaded into his hair as you desperately tugged on the locks, Namjoon smirking against your mouth just as you lightly bit his plump bottom lip. His hands moved to hold your hips, pulling you closer to him, causing you to step forward, effectively slipping on the clothing that the man had previously dropped at your feet, your forehead hitting Namjoon’s cheekbone with a light force.

“Oh my god, are you ok?” You asked, inspecting his face, Namjoon chuckling in amusement as he squeezed your hips in his grasp.

“Are you ok?” He countered, you giggling as you nodded.

“Come here, babe,” you cooed, angling his face so you could leave a few sweet kisses to his cheek. “Is that-?” You asked, looking to the floor, spotting the source of the near fall.

Bending to pick up the shirt, you let out a small gasp in surprise. “Guess where it was,” Namjoon playfully started, you pulling your eyebrows together in question. “The clothes hamper.”

“No way,” you giggled, realizing you must have put it in there with unknowing purpose. “Well, I prefer this shirt anyway,” you teased, looking down to the t-shirt Namjoon had given you to wear.

“It looks a little wet,” he said suggestively, looking down at your frame in a way that made you want to strip everything off that very second.

Shrugging, you cocked your head at him, your fingers toying with the damp strands at the nape of his neck. “Maybe you should take it off me then,” you suggested with a smirk, Namjoon immediately tugging on the material. “Yours is a little wet too, babe,” you pointed out playfully as you ran your hand down his chest.

“Well,” he looked down at his own shirt for a moment. “Would you look at that.” Laughing at his remark, you kissed him softly before smiling against his mouth.

“Hey, before we go any further with this whole taking these off,” you tugged on the fabric over his pectoral, “can we talk about something real quick?” You asked, knowing you were completely killing the mood but needing to be on the same page.

“What’s up? You ok?” He asked, a nervousness seeping into his tone and features, though he tried to appear calm.

“No, yeah, everything is fine, it’s just,” you tilted your head to the side in thought. “Can we keep this whole boyfriend girlfriend thing between us for now?” You asked, hoping the question didn’t come across in any way other than how you meant it. “I just want to take our time getting used to the label and the new terms and be able to adjust to everything that comes with this before we invite other people in.”

“Other people as in,” he started, “my members?”

“I just want to be really certain and comfortable and properly established before they know,” you said guiltily, the man smiling in amusement to your nerves.

“That’s fine, babe, I get it,” he nodded, kissing your cheek comfortingly. “Properly established,” he teased you, causing you to groan as you poked his chest in slight embarrassment.

“Stop teasing me,” you giggled. “The guys just mean a lot to you and honestly they already mean a lot to me so I just want to know exactly what we are and feel good about where we’re at before us includes all of us,” you explained unnecessarily, though it felt very necessary to you. “Does that make sense?”

“Of course it makes sense,” he assured you with a fond smile. “You’re really cute, you know that?”

Grinning at him, you nodded, jokingly confirming that you did indeed know that. Namjoon laughed before kissing your lips quickly, you slightly chasing him, causing the man to flash you a smirk. “This could be fun,” he commented, you raising your eyebrows at him.

“Yeah?” You asked, Namjoon nodding, causing you to hum in agreement. “We could be an epic novel of forbidden lovers,” you said seductively, dragging your finger along his collarbone. “Like Romeo and Juliet, but without the ending,” you added, Namjoon chuckling at you as he pulled you closer once again, nuzzling his face against your neck. “We’re not really forbidden either but you get the vibe,” you continued, Namjoon’s breathy laugh tickling your skin.

“I get the vibe,” he confirmed humorously, you giggling as he kissed the spot on your neck a few times, you biting your bottom lip in response. “Although, Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy,” he pointed out, you groaning in annoyance at him.

“I said without the ending, you said you get the vibe, Dimples,” you complained, Namjoon laughing further.

“Sorry, sorry, I get the vibe,” he playfully told you, trailing kisses along your jaw.

“I don’t think you do get the vibe,” you teased, though a small moan cut you off.

“I get the vibe, babe,” he assured just before attaching his lips to yours once again, you immediately deepening the action as you started pushing him backward toward his bedroom.

With him so close, your door wide open to his presence, a warmth spread across your body at the feeling and the realization that he was yours and you were his, and in the kind of way that you both could feel secure in being each other’s. You were still scared, but you were happy.

You never planned on meeting Namjoon, and you definitely weren’t planning to fall for the man. But standing in his apartment, in his embrace, you found yourself feeling as though you were home. As unexpectedly as Namjoon entered your life, he never felt foreign. In fact, he’d felt familiar since the first night you spent with him. Just now, you were finally allowing yourself to make yourself at home, take your coat and shoes off, well, and the rest of your clothes, and even leave them in his dirty clothes hamper. Because you were finally home.

And you’d finally fill that fucking drawer.

[glitxhwayventeen]

We Might Be Dead By Tomorrow

Minghao: Chapter 3 (Beautifully Unfinished)

Characters: Minghao x female reader

Genre/Warnings: multi-member au (different scenarios), werewolf au, fantasy, angst, blood mentions, runaways, domestic violence (I mean not really because she doesn’t really want to hurt him she’s just sad and lashing out), sleep seducing (If that’s a thing?), sleep/entranced fucking, blood mentions, death mentions, suggestive/slight smutty content, violence. Any others will be put as warnings when future chapters are thought up/written.

Author’s Note: Have any of y’all seen American Horror Story Roanoke? Well, that’s where I got the inspiration for this chapter. You didn’t ACTUALLY think I’d have a story with a fully happy couple with no tragedies or drama did you? But, if you want a song to listen to, I recommend Beautifully Unfinished by Ella Henderson and I recommend listening to it started at the point where they go to sleep. It’s perfect for the mood the Main Character’s feeling

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

Bold= Dialogue Italics= Thoughts

🥀

We Might Be Dead By Tomorrow Master List

Chapter 3: Beautifully Unfinished

It had been a few days since the Siren incident. You hadn’t heard anything since. So, of course like the fucking dumbasses you all were, you all began to forget about it and let your guards down. You all carried on like everything was normal, but everything was far from it.

You had all a long day of shopping at the market. You really just wanted to go back home and fall asleep to recover some of your energy. But when you got back, you had bigger things to worry about.

See, both Junhui and Minghao were in rut. Typically, before you came along, their ruts were always at the same time so they both… helped each other out a bit until it passed. But now that you were in the picture, Minghao had you to help him get through it. It left Jun a mess, he wasn’t upset that he didn’t have anyone to help him out or anything, he was glad Hao had finally found you. But he was struggling to… keep himself in check. And while the other wolves just kept their respective mates away from him during his rut, Minghao didn’t really see the point of trying to keep you away from him. You were just as strong as him after all, you could handle yourself and he knew you’d never do anything with him, some part of him always knew that.

But Hao was acting… off. Like even more so than he usually did. Typically, your mate was very reserved and mostly just kept to himself when the others were around and he’d be personable with you behind closed doors. Lately though, he’d been more distant, even with you. Which everyone found odd. Especially during his rut. He should only want you around him during it, but he hadn’t touched you since that day. It confused you a great deal. It was like he was a different person, half the time when you woke up now, he was already gone from bed.

Part of you attributed it to his mating season, but you were still worried about him. He was much more aggressive than usual. Again, that could’ve just been attributed to his sudden hormone change. But when Jun had got a little too close to you, he snapped.

You were in the kitchen with Jun just cleaning up after dinner, everyone took turns and it was now the both of yours. You didn’t mind, you actually liked cleaning and helping out. It made you feel like you were contributing to the pack. Jun however, was getting very bored and very distracted by you.

He couldn’t help it, you were a very attractive girl and he was going through mating season. He was trying his best to maintain his control. He’d NEVER actually act on his need to mate with you of all people, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t still suggestively flirt with you. It was just in his nature at the moment. You both knew that, so you didn’t particularly care.

While scrubbing the dishes, he blew some soapy bubbles at you playfully, so you of course blew some right back at him. It soon turned into an all out bubble fight and ended up with the both of your shirts soaked. You had been wearing a pretty thin T-Shirt and the water had made it start to stick to your bra. Junhui realized this and at first, he tried not to stare. He really did try not to. But, eventually his hormones took over and he caught a glimpse and made a stupid joke about how much better you’d probably look with your shirt off. Again, you just brushed it off and snorted a laugh, because you knew he didn’t mean any harm in it.

But Minghao, who had been sitting on the couch in the living room that was visible from the kitchen, had seen and heard the whole thing and darted to the kitchen. He quickly shoved the older wolf away from you and you watched as his yellow eyes turned red.

“Dont ever fucking speak to her like that again.” He snarled at his brother, leaving you both momentarily stunned.

“Hao, look I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m going through rut and you know how I get and the dumb shit I say-” Junhui tried to defend himself calmly, thinking that Minghao would forgive him if he apologized for his words. Boy, was he wrong.

“I don’t give a shit. Don’t fucking say shit like that to MY mate ever again!” Minghao’s breathing was becoming unstable due to his anger.

“She’s MINE. Don’t try it again.” He growled, grabbing his brother by the collar of his shirt.

“God would you calm down. I’d never try anything with your mate Hao. It was a joke. Besides, she could use some action…” Jun trailed, implying that the older wolf hadn’t slept with you in some time.

“Even if it’s just a dumb joke, seems like it’s the closest thing she’s getting to sex anytime soon.” He chuckled darkly, his testosterone started to soar from the annoyance that was bubbling inside of him at his brother’s possessiveness.

“I’ll fucking kill you.” Minghao all but screamed, shifting right there in the kitchen and pouncing on Jun.

The rest of the pack heard the whole commotion from upstairs and knew that it wasn’t gonna end well. So, by the time Minghao had phased, five boys were already down the stairs pushing him off of Jun and shoving him outside before he could do any long term damage. You just stood there in complete shock. He was always so good at controlling his emotions, even during rut according to the other boys. What the actual FUCK was his problem?

-

“Hao, what the hell was that?” You shouted at your mate, who seemed completely blindsided by the situation.

“What was what (Y/N)?” He sighed, running his hand through his hair while pushing the sheets and comforter of your bed over so he could get on the mattress.

“You know what Hao. What the hell did you attack Jun for? He’s one of your best friends and you went and wolfed out on him over a dumbass joke?” You screeched while throwing your hands on your hips and tipping your head to the side to show your frustration.

“You’re my mate. He shouldn’t say shit like that to you. That’s my job. Plus I’m going through rut, he should’ve know better.” Minghao just shrugged before he laid down with his hands behind his head on the pillow underneath him.

“Oh rut huh? Is that what you’re gonna blame it on? Could’ve fucking fooled me” you scoffed, laying down on your side of the bed, turned away from him.

“What’s THAT supposed to mean?” He questioned, pulling you to lay flat on your back so he could see your face.

“It means you hardly act like you’re going through rut right now. You’re supposed to be a sex monster and all needy and whiney and shit. But the only reason I’d believe you were in rut right now would be your anger. You haven’t touched me in almost a week but this is your first time going through rut with a mate. You should be completely insatiable right now but you aren’t. So using that as an excuse really doesn’t fucking cut it Hao.” You declared, rolling your eyes at him.

“So you’re pissed because I haven’t fucked you?” He laughed dryly as he threw his head back in the process.

“No. I’m not mad you haven’t had sex with me Hao. I’m upset because you’re acting weird and you won’t tell me what’s wrong or what I’ve done.” You say softly while looking down to avoid his sharp gaze.

Minghao felt a twitch in his heart. He had made you sad and he wasn’t even sure why himself. He never wanted you to be upset with him or yourself. He let out a loud sigh.

“I’m- I’m sorry baby. It’s not you. Or anyone for that matter. I’ve just been struggling. I don’t even know why. I just wake up and feel completely exhausted, then I get up and get angry because I don’t want anyone around you, but Then again I also don’t feel the need to be pounding you into the mattress right now. I’m just… I’m just a mess and I’m not sure what’s happening with me. I’ll work on it.” He stroked your cheek causing you to look into his eyes with your watery ones.

“Do you promise?” You whispered aloud, blinking back any tears that ha began to form and looking up at him sweetly.

“I promise, I’ll try to get my shit together.” He assured you, pecking the tip of your nose to seal the deal.

“And that you’ll actually be here when I wake up tomorrow?” You whimpered while bringing your own hand up to hold the one he had resting on your face.

“Yes baby, I promise.” He rested his forehead against yours before connecting your lips to his for a tender kiss.

“Good,” you say, breaking the kiss after a few seconds to regain some air, “now cuddle me so I can sleep.” You giggled and began situating yourself in his arms.

“With pleasure my love” He smiled, holding you to him like his life depended on it.

-

-

You awoke in the middle of the night to an angelic humming sound. You fluttered your eyes a bit before you turned in your spot. You reached for you mate and quickly realized he wasn’t next to you anymore. You darted up in bed immediately. You had a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. You had to find him.

So you got out of bed, throwing one of his large sweaters over your head before you went to sniff him out. His scent lead you outside into the dark forest, the sound had also been coming from the same way. Wolves could see almost just as good at night as they could during the daytime thankfully, otherwise you surely would’ve ended up breaking something as you made your way through the woods. His scent was getting stronger, so was the humming. You went deeper and deeper into the woods before you saw some smog floating just above the ground.

Your mate’s scent lead you further into the smog and closer to the song. You soon came upon a small clearing, a dull light had begun to rise from within the tree branches. You knew he was there. And you knew he wasn’t alone. Your heart was now pounding out of your chest. Fuck.

You pushed past the last of the trees and bushes before you found yourself in the middle of the clearing. What you saw made you sick to your stomach.

It was Minghao, he had his sleep pants pulled down slightly and had a woman’s legs wrapped around his waist. From the angle you had, you could see that the beautiful blonde woman he was with was laying on a tree stump as he plowed into her, her melodious song still drifting through the air. Tears sprung to your eyes and you fell to your knees.

“Minghao?” You sobbed loud enough for the both of them to hear as you began all but hyperventilating on the ground.

It all made sense now: Why he didn’t want to be with you during rut, he had her. Why he was so tired, he was up all night with her. Why he was always gone when you woke up, he was with her. He was fucking a siren behind your back and you were too stupid to even realize it.

Hearing his mate sound so broken while crying out his name helped shake him out of his trance. It was his instinct to always comfort you, even if he was in a dead sleep, he’d wake up to make sure you were alright. His movements halted and he blinked his eyes continuously, trying to force himself awake so that he could get a better gist of his surroundings.

He could see the trees and brush all around him, he could see the moonlight glistening in the sky above him. But why was he outside? And why were you crying for him?

That’s when he found himself deep inside another woman, who was staring back at him fondly and singing, raising her hand up to his face to try and lure him back to her. He knew what he was doing with the woman was wrong, but her song was so enchanting, he almost kept going with his actions.

But he could hear you bawling your eyes out not too far away from him. It brought him to his senses and he quickly withdrew from the woman, pushing her away and growling at her, warning her to stay away from him. She just sat up and looked at him with a smirk on her face.

“What the fuck??” Was all he could muster out, pulling you out of sobbing into your hands to look up at him.

You sniffled, catching his attention and making him attempt to come over to your aid, it was his instinct as your mate to put you first after all. Which only made you back up with a scowl on your face. He hadn’t even… pulled up his pants yet. How DARE he come near you with himself still exposed after he had been inside another woman?

Once he realized why you were inching away from him after a small gust of air hit him, he turned around quickly and positioned himself back into his sweats.

The Siren looked over at both your torn expressions with her blood red eyes and laughed, amused by the predicament that she had purposely created.

“Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag now huh?” She seductively said, finally sitting all the way up and standing on her two heeled feet.

She started getting closer to Minghao, who snarled at her to stay away from him. She just darkly chuckled.

“Oh relax baby. We had quite a bit of fun these last few days. I already got what I wanted from you so I guess it doesn’t really matter anymore…” she tsked while rubbing over her stomach tenderly, indicating that she already had fertilized eggs she would be laying soon.

“I just kept coming back for more. You were the best I’ve ever had and expecting just makes me so… horny sometimes, I’m not really sure why, so I kept going with it and kept coming back to you.”

You wanted to throw up. You wanted to rip her to shreds. You wanted to beat Minghao to death. You wanted to run away as fast as you could. But you were frozen, too traumatized by the whole situation to even move. You just went back to crying silently.

“I wouldn’t do that. I couldn’t! I have a mate!” He yelled at her, in complete disbelief of the entire situation.

He loved you, more than life itself. Why would he risk what he had with you to be with her? She was lying. She HAD to have been lying… right?

“Yes, you would. Yes, you could. Yes, you did. Mates don’t really matter when it comes to sex. Me and you- We’re both just primal beings, we want to reproduce. You know, I almost moved on to the next town, but then I saw you. I could sense your need to procreate. And now, thanks to you and your willingness, I’m going to.” She devilishly smiled as she came up and began running her hand through his hair.

He jerked his head away and gritted his teeth, eyes already spotting red in anger at the woman.

“Dont fucking touch me!” He lowly let out, his fingers curling into fists and his knuckles turning white from the pressure of how tight his hand was closing.

He was yours. How dare she fucking touch him? Especially when you were right there? Who the fuck did she think she was?

“Why not baby? You’ve already touched me. And now, your mate knows it too.” The Siren fake pouted, swaying her hips from side to side.

“Fuck you! Don’t call me that! I didn’t know what I was doing!” He declared as his claws started to elongate due to the woman’s lack of respect for the both of you.

“Of course you did. My song has you follow me sure. But It doesn’t MAKE you want to fuck me. Sure you may have thought it was a dream, but you still kept coming back. Pun intended.” She taunted in your direction, clearly trying to get under your skin. Of course, it was working.

“You didn’t tell her about the ‘dreams’ you were having either. You wanted it to be a secret. You wanted THIS to be kept a secret. You didn’t want to get caught so we could keep going because you loved it so much. She must not be taking care of your needs too well…” She smirked at you while running her finger up and down his chest, making you cry even harder at her words.

Was it true? Did he really know what he was doing? Did he… want her? More than he wanted you? Did he get with a siren because his instincts told him it was time to mate and he knew you weren’t ready to have a child? Were you really not enough for your own fucking mate?

“Stop fucking talking!” He shouted at the woman as he pushed her back after hearing your sobs worsen at her continuous talking.

“Now Now Minghao. Is that any way to speak to the mother of your children?” She tilted her head and looked at him as if she won, waltzing her way backwards so he could get a better view of her.

She was pregnant. Pregnant with his offspring. The thought made some part of you break, a part that you had already thought broken after having caught them. The part of you that craved him was now… damaged? It felt like there was a hole in the part of you that could sense him, you weren’t sure how to explain it. You just knew that it hurt like hell and you wanted it to stop.

You thought he would care, hell, even he thought he probably should’ve cared a little, but honestly, He didn’t give a shit. She wasn’t really human. THEY wouldn’t be human. She was soulless. THEY would be soulless too. They were evil and he couldn’t care less about what happened to manipulative dark creatures. Those THINGS wouldn’t really be his. They would be hers. They would be sirens that preyed on innocent people the same way she did. She just used him to create more demons.

He had a mate. A mate he loved more than anything. He had you, at least he was still hoping he did. He wanted you to have his children. He wanted to watch your belly grow and wanted to hold your hand while you had his babies. He wanted to raise them to be loving happy good people just like you were.

But here you were, crying over something this evil… thing had started. He refused to allow her to speak anymore, you didn’t deserve to have to sit here and listen to her lies and torments. You didn’t deserve and of this.

“You’re talking about them like they’d be real children, like they’d be real people. They wouldn’t be. They would be pure evil. Just like you. None of you are human.” Minghao sneered, shoving her to the ground in anger and allowing his claws to fully come out. You watched as he got closer to her and you could hear his heart rate excel in furry.

“You hurt my mate. You’ve ruined everything. I’ll fucking kill you for what you’ve done!” He said, tears burning at his eyes as he knew full well things would probably never be the same with you ever again.

She just chuckled at his threat. She figured he wouldn’t let her live when they got caught, but she was glad it all happened. Sirens weren’t afraid of death, their lack of souls made it impossible for them to really be remotely remorseful or human. But at least now, she made you hate him. At least she caused the havoc she craved so deeply on yet another unsuspecting couple. She had no regrets.

-

You had passed out from exhaustion. Shedding so many tears really took a lot out of you. You thought that you had dreamed it all for a second. God, you hoped it was all just a dream. But, when you awoke to a very tired and worn out looking Minghao sitting next to you holding your hand, you knew it wasn’t. He had blood on his cheeks and on his sweats, he must’ve made good on his promise to kill the sadistic creature that ruined your lives.

Tears started streaming down your cheeks again at the remembrance of the woman, you pulled you hand away from his in disgust. It made his heart ache to think about everything that had happened. That he was now trying to touch you with the hands he touched her with. You couldn’t believe him. You didn’t want to even look at him.

“(Y/N), please. Let me explain.” He pleaded, pulling your hand back to his and placing a chaste kiss to it.

“FUCK YOU!”

You started to roar from the hurt he caused you. He wanted to help you, he couldn’t just have you sit there crying and not at least try to comfort you. He brought your weakened form into his chest and shushed you. You began hitting him with what little energy and strength you had. He just let you, knowing full well you couldn’t really harm him, even if you wanted to hurt him the way you were hurting. You still loved him. And you fucking hated yourself for it.

“HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!?”

You smacking his body again and again while he just rubbed your back in response, tears threatening to spill from his own eyes. You were so mad. You wanted to kill him. He could see it written all over your face. The absolute devastation and betrayal had turned all your love for him into bitterness. How could it not? You trusted him and he turned around and slapped you in the face with the faith and trust you had given him.

“HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO US?!?”

You held your eyes shut as you continued pounding at his chest, trying to hit as much of his skin as you could so you could express the pain you felt inside. Feeling all the heartache hit you like a bullet straight through your heart. Angry tears had started falling from your eyes at a gut wrenching pace.

“I HATE YOU!”

You sobbed as you finally stopped hitting him and just went back to burying you head in his torso to vent out all your frustration and anger. Why did this have to happen?

“I fucking hate you.”

You blubbered, bringing your hands to your eyes in an attempt to muffle your howls of agony. You were sure by this point you had woken up the rest of the pack with your screams, but you didn’t care. All you could think about was the stinging feeling in your chest. How could he do this to you? How could he be so disloyal when all you had ever done was love him with your whole soul?

“I know.” He stated, kissing the top of your head as tears began to fall from his eyes and onto you.

You hated how you wanted nothing more than to cry all your pain away into his chest. You hated that you still craved his skin touching yours. You hated that his voice brought you so much comfort and security. You wanted to hate him, but you couldn’t. Even if he did what he did, he was still your mate.

Another Author’s Note: Before anyone comes for me and says shit about me having him “kill a pregnant woman” please actually READ the siren description. You’ll see that they aren’t people. They’re literally demons. She would’ve hatched ACTUAL DEMONS, even if they looked human, they wouldn’t ACTUALLY be. So he didn’t really kill anything but evil creatures which happens all the time in these aus. Also, I made this where, while he doesn’t necessarily know what he’s doing while he’s… well you know, doing her, he does have to be okay with it deep down for the sirens song to work. Meaning some part of him was actually complicit with it. It’s complicated. I’ll explain better during his next chapter. It just felt like a “every bitch and their mother’s gonna cheat” kinda day you know? But yeah, hope you guys enjoyed the third chapter of the day!

(Updated 9/24)

[writergirlworld]

LOVE IS A DANGEROUS THING

(Stefan Salvatore x Klaus Mikaelson x you)

*I don't own the gif*

Part 1

Summary : Stefan shuts off his humanity to save you, the last thing he told you was to bring him back, and that's what you try to do but will your feelings change when Klaus gets involved?

"Tick-tock Stefan the clock is ticking," Katherine said while some random guy that she compelled was holding a knife to your heart.

"Stefan listen to me, don't do it" you groaned in pain "It's okay... I promise, stay for me" you felt the knife cut through your clothes and pinch your skin.

"NO" Stefan screamed "Katherine, stop it"

"You know what to do, just turn it off" she smirked.

"Don't listen to her, please" you sobbed in tears "Just kill me already, leave Stefan out of this"

"As you wish" she turned to the guy "Kill -"

"Stop" Stefan grabbed Katherine's arm and then turned to you "Y/N remember I love you, bring me back" he said as he closed his eyes, turning it off.

"STEFAN NO" you tried to release yourself from the ropes, crying desperately, watching him fade all his emotions away.

Typical Stefan, saving everyone but himself.

"Good job, now leave and forget this ever happened." Katherine said to the guy that held the knife. He dropped the knife and left, just like Stefan and Katherine.

You were standing there all tied up, alone, your guilt eating you up from inside. And no matter what you said in those moments was worthless, you remember you love each other and he doesn't. He gave up on his humanity for you.

***

That was the last day you've seen or heard from Stefan. You looked at all the newspapers that mentioned animal attacks in the past two weeks. All of them were dead ends.

"Y/N you need to get some rest" Bonnie pat your shoulder.

"We're going to bring him back, I promise" Damon said in a worried look.

"You promise? Where did all your promises get us? You promised you won't let Katherine out of the cell. I've had enough Damon, he is your brother at least try to do something good for once" You slammed your hand on the table.

"I didn't mean to, it all happened so fast..."

"I honestly don't want to hear it" You got up leaving the room, Bonnie followed you.

"I don't have my magic but I will find a witch to do a locator spell" Bonnie put her arms in your shoulders to assure you "I need you to get some rest"

"No need for that love" you turned your head to see the one and only hybrid Klaus.

"What do you want?" you turned furiously at him.

"The same thing as you" he smirked.

"I doubt that" you responded arrogantly.

"I can help you find Stefan love" he raised his eyebrows.

"And what's in it for you?" you questioned because you knew he wouldn't appear out of nowhere for nothing.

"Let's say me and Katerina have some unfinished business " he responded, "so what is it gonna be love?"

"Deal, just don't ever call me that" you scoffed.

***

"Alright I'm leaving without you" you started to walk away after Klaus was taking too long just staring at some dude paint.

"I could stare at art forever love, it is fascinating" he chased after you.

"Remember why we're here Klaus" you opened the car door.

"A little appreciation to the culture wouldn't hurt" he said as he sat at the passenger seat.

"Yeah right Picasso"

"We're almost there love, be easy on yourself" Klaus said as he looked at you, while you were driving hella fast, at night in an empty road near the woods.

"I'm not stressing out" you sighed "It's just that...-"  the car started to slow down and it turned off.

"What the...?" you tried to start the car but it didn't work.

"Stay here, I will check." Klaus got out to check the engine. "Well it looks like something there it's broken, and I'm sure it's your fault love" he smirked from the window.

"Screw you" you got out of the car and pulled out a map. "How far are we?"

"We could walk, or we could run in vampire speed" he smirked "Oh right... you are a human love" he tried to be sarcastic.

"You'll be the death of me" you gave him a death stare.

[spacedancer1701]

Only a Call Away (on Valentine’s Day)

A Star Trek Fic

Fandoms: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series (TOS), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (AOS) Pairing: McCoy x Original Female Character (Dr. Jennifer Hope) Characters: Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy, Jenny Hope Rating/Warnings: Explicit (M) Tags: Romance, Love, Smut and Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content Word Count: 2,798

Read it on AO3: Only a Call Away (on Valentine’s Day)      

Summary:

McCoy is away at a conference on Valentine's Day, but Hope won't let that stop them from having an unforgettable and very intimate evening nevertheless.

Or simply put: another (missing) Hope and McCoy smut scene.

(Although you don’t have to be familiar with my other Hope/McCoy stories to enjoy this little one-shot.)

************

Jenny cast a loving glance at the beautiful red roses on her desk, before leaving her office to get ready for the surprise she’d planned for Leonard. Today was Valentine’s Day on Earth, and the Enterprise was buzzing with people preparing for cosy dinners or poring over mysterious cards and messages.

Unfortunately, Leonard was away at a conference, hence the roses and a lovely card promising to make it up to her. So typical of the doctor. As if being away on Valentine’s Day had been his choice. Or his fault. But Jenny was going to make sure that it would be an unforgettable Valentine’s Day for both of them nevertheless.

Changing out of her uniform and stepping into the shower, she felt heat rise to her cheeks just thinking about what she had planned. She couldn't remember the last time seeing Leonard had made her nervous, but tonight, it certainly did. Because tonight, she intended to fulfil one of his secret desires. At least she hoped so.

And with him being so far away this Valentine’s Day, it was the perfect opportunity to get over herself and make this particular dream come true for him.

And with him being so far away this Valentine’s Day, it was the perfect opportunity to get over herself and make this particular dream come true for him.

And with him being so far away this Valentine’s Day, it was the perfect opportunity to get over herself and make this particular dream come true for him.

-x-x-x-x-x-

“Hi there, love,” McCoy smiled, sitting on the bed in his hotel room, his back comfortably propped against the headboard, as he transferred the call to the bigger screen on the wall, then did a classic double take. “Oh, wow, you look stunning! Are you expecting company?”

He was joking, of course, but couldn't deny actually feeling a tiny twinge of jealousy, seeing Hope wearing nothing but a flimsy see-through nightie without him there on Valentine’s Day. What if someone came to see her in their quarters? Had she even remembered to lock the door?

“All just for you, Leonard,” she laughed, giving a little twirl showing off her alluring body, before draping herself seductively across their bed. “It is Valentine’s Day after all.”

“Are you trying to kill me, love?” he groaned, desire and lust pooling in his groin at the incredible sight before him, his uniform pants suddenly seeming painfully tight.

“Actually, this is part of my Valentine’s gift to you,” she giggled, doing a teasing little shimmy into the camera.

The doctor couldn't suppress a low grunt, almost exploding with desire and the frustration of not being able to touch her. Hope knew exactly the effect she had on him, and she was obviously enjoying this.

“Why don’t you get a little more comfortable?” she suggested, innocently batting her eyelashes at him. “Maybe get rid of all those constricting clothes?”

“Stop the teasing, woman,” McCoy growled as he shrugged off his shirt and removed his pants, then settled back on the bed, satisfied to see the longing he felt mirrored in her eyes now, too.

“Do you remember when you were at this symposium a few months back?” Hope asked, her voice deep and sultry.

“How could I not?” he responded, a little damp patch forming on his briefs as he felt his manhood twitching excitedly at the memory. “It was the hottest night I’ve ever spent away from you.”

Hope gave him a smouldering look, her lips curling into a naughty little smile.

“Is that what this is about, love?” it suddenly hit him, a bout of intense yearning surging through him. “Would you like me to talk to you like that again? I knew you secretly loved it, even though you wouldn’t admit it, acting all coy and bashful. Did you think I wouldn’t notice how much it turned you on? Or that I’d forget how many times I made you come just with my words that night?”

“Not just your words, Leonard,” Hope added softly, her adorable blush and shy little smile setting his nether regions on fire. “You know exactly what your voice does to me.”

“My voice, you say?” McCoy drawled, savouring the way she closed her eyes, her body gently writhing on the bed. “So you wouldn’t mind listening to me for a while now?”

“I certainly wouldn’t,” she smirked, “but I was actually thinking of going first today. The other part of my Valentine’s gift, so to speak.”

-x-x-x-x-x-

“You mean, you…” the doctor left the sentence unfinished, his eyes growing wide and a soft moan escaping him as his hand moved down his body where Jenny couldn't see it anymore.

I’ve managed to surprise him all right, Jenny thought giddily, her own desire growing as she noticed his breathing pick up and his eyes flutter shut.

“Oh my God,” McCoy gasped, the longing and eagerness in his voice going straight to her core, “you sure?”

“Only if you’d like it, of course,” Jenny smiled, trying not to let her insecurity show.

“Like it?” he chuckled, opening his eyes again and looking at her with a tenderness that melted her heart. “Good God, girl! I’ve been dreaming about this ever since our very first night. Nothing hotter than you talking dirty!”

The doctor let out a groan that sent a wave of burning need from between Jenny’s legs up to her chest.

“Jesus, remember that café where we had breakfast the morning after?” McCoy went on breathlessly. “You said something like ‘make-up sex is supposed to be the best’, and that was all it took to make me want to rip your clothes off and take you again right there and then. It’s driving me crazy just thinking about it now.”

“Then you’d better buckle up,” Jenny grinned mischievously, “because I sure hope that with you as my teacher, my skills have improved a little since then.”

Up to that moment, she hadn’t been sure if her plan to surprise Leonard with dirty talk was really a good idea. Much as she loved to hear it from him, she’d always felt silly talking like that herself. It just didn’t come naturally to her. But seeing his eager reaction, she felt much more confident now.

-x-x-x-x-x-

McCoy squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his lips tightly together, frantically trying to quell his arousal before he lost control. Just hearing Hope talk about dirty talk did it for him, and he definitely didn’t want to tumble over the edge just yet. She’d just offered to do what he’d been fantasising about for the longest time, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to spoil her – and his – fun.

God, she was a never-ending well of surprises. The sweetest, hottest, most amazing woman a man could wish for. He’d felt so guilty and sad for abandoning her on Valentine’s Day, but Hope wouldn’t be Hope if she hadn’t found a way to turn what he considered a disappointment into a memorable occasion.

“Keep your eyes closed, Leonard,” her voice, soft and low, brought him back to the present. “Can you feel my lips on yours? Kissing down your chin, tracing your jawline, nibbling down your throat, your chest? Mmmmmmh, my fingers softly playing with the hair on your chest while my teeth and tongue gently tease your nipples? The left one first, then the right one?”

The doctor moaned and hummed, almost feeling her lips and teeth and tongue on his skin. Wondering when Hope had gone from someone too shy to talk dirty to someone nearly making him shoot his load at the first word.

“Feel me tenderly kiss my way further down your stomach, your belly…” she went on, her voice getting huskier as her own arousal seemed to increase along with his.

He had to reach down and firmly grip the base of his rock-hard member, which was straining painfully against his briefs, hoping to stave off his fast building orgasm.

“You’ll have to be my hands now, Leonard,” Hope told him, her melodic voice reaching him through a haze of unbridled lust and burning desire. “Help me strip you of your briefs, so that I can see you in your full glory and touch you the way I know you love.”

McCoy clasped his erection, almost bursting with need and desire, Hope’s voice edging him on and nearly driving him out of his mind.

“Feel my hands where you want them most, gently playing with your balls, firmly stroking up and down your shaft. Up and down, ever so slowly, while my tongue starts circling your crown. Lightly, exploringly. Mmmmmh… you’re oozing desire, and I love how you taste.”

“Easy, Jenny,” the doctor ground out. “I’m getting too close.”

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked abruptly, sounding a little embarrassed, and the doctor felt immediately bad for interrupting her while at the same time grateful to feel his arousal abate a little.

“I just need you to go easy, love,” he explained, trying to catch his breath. “Unfortunately, unlike you, I can’t come twenty times in half as many minutes, and I don’t want this to be over too soon.”

“I’m doing all right then?” Hope giggled happily, and he felt his heart swell with overwhelming tenderness at the joyful pride in her voice.

“All right is definitely not the term I’d use,” he chuckled. “More like phenomenal. Just like everything else you do.”

She was so incredibly sweet. He knew how shy she was when it came to dirty talk. Or rather sexy talk in her case – nothing dirty about it. While she would open herself up to him in every other way, give herself to him completely, she’d always been uncomfortable putting her feelings during sex, her wishes and desires, into words.

And yet, she’d done it for him today. Even though he knew she’d much rather do all those things to him than talk about them in such detail. The things she did to make him happy. He’d never understand why she’d chosen to love him of all people, but he thanked the powers that be every single day for being so blessed.

Hope had really just got into the swing of things when he’d stopped her, and he could hear her struggling to find the right words to get back to it now.

“Want me to take over?” he asked, taking pity on her, and almost laughed out loud at the sheer relief on her face, as she tried to casually nod and shrug.

No matter how much her ‘dirty talk’ had turned him on, it had nothing on the way his heart filled with love at simply watching Hope being Hope.

“All right, then,” McCoy smiled, “lie back down, close your eyes, and I’ll tell you what I’d like us to do next.”

-x-x-x-x-x-

“Okay,” Jenny agreed a little hesitantly.

She’d really wanted tonight to be all about him. But seeing as she’d brought him to the edge in practically no time, and feeling mighty proud about it, she understood that he wanted to draw out the experience as long as he could.

Besides, she couldn't deny feeling a little relieved to let him continue. What was so intensely stimulating coming from him, still sounded a little awkward coming out of her mouth.

“I wish you knew how much I love you, Jenny,” the doctor broke into her thoughts, and she could feel the warmth of his affection even across the distance. “Every time I think I couldn't love you more, you go and prove me wrong.”

“I feel exactly the same, Leonard,” she smiled, “and I can’t wait to have you back here and feel you for real.”

“Well, let’s make the most of it until then,” he replied softly, and she could practically hear the naughty grin spreading across his face without even looking up. “After what you just made me feel, let’s see, if I’ve still got it, too!”

Of course, he’d still got it, no doubt about that, Jenny thought fondly, feeling her panties growing damp just with the thrill of anticipation.

“Normally, I’d love to go down on you now,” McCoy drawled, and Jenny immediately felt her juices starting to flow and drench her panties, “savouring the taste of your wetness, exploring every little fold and crevice with my tongue, finding your little jewel and spending a looong time caressing it with just the tip of my tongue, nibbling on it, gently sucking on it with my lips, maybe carefully tease it a little with my teeth, before licking you to your first climax. The first of maaany.”

Jenny was rapidly losing all sense of time and space, her fingers frenziedly trying to put Leonard’s words into action, if only in a poor imitation of what the real thing would have felt like, the doctor’s erotic voice and the way he drew out his vowels exciting her no end.

“But,” McCoy continued softly, clearly enjoying teasing her, but audibly turned on immensely now, too, “I’m still teetering on the edge you’ve just put me on, and I honestly don’t know how much longer I can last. In fact, I’ll have to find some way to actively block out this memory after tonight, or I’ll have to spend the rest of the symposium in permanent arousal.”

That did it. The idea of her words having aroused him so helplessly sent her freefalling into her first, tremendous orgasm of the night, gasping and moaning, her body spasming in delicious release, Leonard’s flushed face, scrunched up as he tried not to follow her over the edge just yet, somewhere at the periphery of her lust-clouded vision.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Watching Hope tumbling over the edge like that was beyond words. There was no greater turn-on than knowing he had the power to ‘pleasure her to pieces’, an expression she had once used in an attempt to try and describe what his touch was doing to her, and which had struck him as exactly what he wanted to do.

McCoy was usually quite good at keeping his own arousal at bay to give Hope as much pleasure as possible. But after how she’d set him on fire earlier, his endurance was weakened, and his desire overwhelming. There was no way he could last much longer, he was already fit to burst.

So the doctor waited just long enough for Hope to recover a little, then asked, “What would you like me to do now, love? I’m pretty sure I’m going to join you the next time already.”

That elicited a wicked grin from her, the idea of having aroused him beyond control seeming quite a turn-on.

“If you were here, I think I’d really love to feel you inside me, now, Leonard,” she breathed, her cheeks glowing as she looked at him from lowered lids.

“And how exactly would you go about that?” he wanted to know, feeling a new pool of lust forming in his groin.

“I’d straddle you,” she replied softly, indulging his wish to coax some more dirty-talk out of her, “push my panties a little to the side, and slowly rub myself against your hardness while softly nibbling on your neck.”

Hearing her words, the doctor involuntarily started to grind his hips, the movement as well as his breathing growing erratic when Hope teasingly added, “You know, that little spot right behind your ear, that makes you break out in goose bumps and gets you mewling.”

Dear God, she’s good! McCoy thought, feeling the big O building at warp speed, powerless to delay his climax any longer.

“I’m so wet and ready for you,” Hope moaned, and seeing her fingering herself as frenziedly as he was jerking off now, was almost more than he could take.

“Nearly there,” the doctor gasped.

And when Hope whimpered, “Grab my hips, bury your face between my breasts, and let me ride you to the most spectacular orgasm you ever had,” her body arching and spasming as her own climax rippled through her, it only took one more thrust into his hand for him to explode into easily one of the most spectacular orgasms of his life, just as Hope had wanted him to.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Three days later, McCoy was finally back on the Enterprise, lying in bed and tenderly holding his darling Hope, fast asleep in his arms after reliving their Valentine’s fantasy for real.

The doctor was under no illusion that her talking dirty would become a regular thing between them. And that was all right. It just wasn’t her. Besides, it wasn’t important. Making love to her was beyond compare even without. But she’d indulge him again every now and then, he knew her that well. And those rare occasions would be infinitely sweet.

************ Disclaimer: Nothing of or associated with Star Trek is mine – it all belongs to Paramount / ViacomCBS (or whoever else is currently holding the rights). This is a work of fanfiction, no infringement intended.

[girlgrouptrash101]

Doyeon (Weki Meki) - Opposites Attract

Request: “Can I fulfill all our dreams and ask for a biker, rebellious Doyeon fluff with her girlfriend who’s a rule follower and how they got together? I hope that makes any sense but pls take this prompt in any way you want!”

Word Count: 4,059 Words

Warnings: nothing but fluff!

A/N: i know i’ve been inactive for a while, but i hope this scenario can make up for it a lil bit :’] 

p.s. stream crush for biker doyeon heheh (https://youtu.be/bT2AMc8hI6A)

- C

I.

The sun was beaming down upon you as you walked to school, your backpack weighed down with textbooks you needed for homework last night. You had all your buttons done up on your shirt, your uniform tie laying perfectly below your collar. It was clear you were proud to live up to your goody two shoes nickname, with immaculate grades and a pristine track record that has been kept that way ever since you stepped foot into high school.

After a few minutes more of walking, you found yourself approaching the school doors. Your best friend, Choi Yoojung, was sitting on the wall outside school waiting for you to arrive. She hopped down as soon as she saw you, walking over with her signature bright smile.

“Hey Yoo, how did you find the maths homework last night?” You asked as both of you headed towards the main entrance of the school.

“It was pretty easy, I got it done in about an hour, you?” Yoojung countered, your conversation carrying you all the way into the school until you reached your lockers. After taking your textbooks out of your bag, you grabbed your biology copy and workbook to prepare for your morning triple class. You quite enjoyed biology, finding it one of your easier subjects. The only thing you didn’t like about that class was the seating arrangements. Most notably, your benchmate, Kim Doyeon.

Doyeon was known by every student, teacher and staff member in the whole school. She was notorious for being a delinquent, your typical highschool rulebreaker who seemed to get off on making everyone else’s life a misery. Everyone could hear her coming whenever she arrived at school, her motorbike making enough noise to deafen the whole town. You could only hope that today she had chosen to skip class so you could be left alone to do your work.

However, it seemed all your hoping and wishing had changed nothing, as Doyeon found herself sauntering into the biology lab five minutes after class had started. She barely acknowledged the teacher as she headed towards you, a lazy smirk painted on her features that made you want to roll your eyes and blush all at the same time. It was unfair that she got to look so good, it made disliking her so much harder than you’d ever like to admit.

“What’s up princess?” She asked smugly, slouching down on the lab chair in her scruffy uniform and leather jacket. You did your best to ignore her, your hair falling down to cover your face as you tried to focus on the handout your teacher had given you earlier. It was hard to deny that your heart skipped a little at the pet name, but you shook off the feeling, knowing that she’d probably said the same thing to every other student in this building.

“Ignoring me already? That’s not very kind of you is it? I thought you were nicer than that, Y/N.” She pressed further, sitting sideways on her chair to face you.

“What’s wrong Doyeon, what do you want?” You replied coldly, not wanting to miss out on any more class time. You wished she would just turn back around, and stop staring at you with those deep brown eyes, or you’d be sure to forget about your work completely and give into her charming ways. Doyeon was about to flirt with you again when, thank god, your biology teacher interrupted your conversation.

“Hey, Y/N, Doyeon, keep it quiet back there!” Your teacher said sternly, giving you both a look before returning her attention back to the papers she had been marking since the beginning of the lesson. You were quick to shut your mouth, not used to being scolded by your teachers.

“I just want to talk to you Y/N, is that such a crime?” Doyeon pressed once again, paying no mind to the teacher, or the fact that she hadn’t answered a single question on her sheet. You did your best to try and focus on your work, putting up a cold front in an attempt to stop Doyeon from talking to you, or even worse, trying to make you fall for her. As much as you wanted to give into the taller girl, you knew it would only end in heartbreak. Her track record with relationships was notorious throughout the school, and you knew that you’d be no exception to her cruel ways.

“Doyeon, really, you don’t ever want to talk to anyone except your group of dumbass friends. All you want is to bother me, then forget my name as soon as you leave this class.” You finally huffed out in response, watching Doyeon’s smirk drop at your words. Instead of responding, she just lowered her head and turned away from you. A pang of guilt could be felt in your stomach, and you wondered if you actually hurt her feelings. The minutes sped past as you sat there, completely unfocused and figuring out how to apologize to the girl beside you. In all your worrying, you completely lost track of time, and soon, the class was over.

“Alright, I expect those worksheets should be done by now, if not, well there’s your homework tonight.” You looked down at your unfinished paper, groaning as you knew you’d be done if Doyeon hadn’t been bothering you in the first place.

“Aside from that sheet, your finals are coming up soon. Instead of your result being 100% based on a written exam, I’m designating 40% to be given on a project. Make note of who your bench partners are, because they’ve now become the key to you getting your full marks in this assignment.” Your heart dropped at her words as you heard a scoff from beside you, and you knew you’d really pissed Doyeon off earlier. You had to apologize and focus on getting a good grade in this project, and you could only hope that Doyeon would accept and help you with the workload.

“Well, looks like I’ll be doing pretty well in biology this year, doesn’t it princess?” Doyeon asked, the cocky smirk back on your lips. The kindness she had shown in her compliments had disappeared, as she spat out the pet name in a way that just felt so wrong. You sighed a little as you watched her leave, before grabbing her wrist in an attempt to make her stay for a second.

“Give me your sheet.” You asked her.

“What?”

“Just pass it here.” You sighed, taking her worksheet and using the pen on her desk to write down your number. 

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier, Doyeon, I didn’t mean to be insensitive. But, I know your reputation when it comes to school, and I’ll be damned if you think this project is being done by me alone. Text me when you’re free, you’re not getting out of this one.” And with that, you spun on your heel and left, not sparing a glance at the stunned girl sitting at her desk.

Doyeon was laughing to herself as you left, amused by your sudden bold actions. She couldn’t help but look down at the number written on your sheet, thinking about how cute you are when you’re annoyed. She hadn’t even been angry at you at all earlier, she just figured that acting upset would be the best way to get your attention, and she was so glad it worked.

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

II.

Two days had passed without a word from Doyeon, so you found yourself at home alone, researching topics on your computer. You scrolled endlessly through websites, videos, anything to give you some inspiration on your topic. Almost an hour into your research, your phone pinged with a notification from an unknown number.

“What’s up, princess.” The message read. Your eyes rolled back in annoyance but your heart fluttered at her words. However, you were more annoyed than you were smitten, as the two of you were running out of time to get things done, and it was clear she didn’t care as much about her grade in biology as you did.

“Nice of you to finally text me, Doyeon.” You replied. 

“Well, it’s been a busy couple of days, you know. You’re just lucky I’m texting you now.” You couldn’t help but giggle at her reply, feeling the sarcasm coming right through the screen. 

“Whatever. When are you free?”

“I’m always free for you baby.” She responded almost immediately, making you freeze, unable to think of a reply to such a text. You decided to keep it short and sweet, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of the charming girl, even if it was only over text.

“Tomorrow, after school. My place.” You responded, quickly turning off your phone, not wanting to wait for a reply that could leave you even more flustered than before.

You lay in bed that night, thinking of everything that could go wrong if Doyeon came to your house… If she even turned up in the first place, of course.

In an attempt to push back your worries, your mind started to wonder as you thought of the girl in question. You couldn’t help but allow yourself to picture her in her leather jacket, with her flowing, brunette hair and those brown doe eyes that always seemed to have a hint of joy in them no matter how grumpy she tried to come across. Even though you weren’t the biggest fan of the girl’s reputation and the stories you heard, you’d still be a fool to deny how attractive she was. Sometimes you tried to ignore those stories, and focus on how nice she was to you in biology, hoping that it wasn’t all a ploy just to break your heart like she did everyone else’s.

You fell asleep eventually, your mind on overdrive about the mysterious girl that you really wanted to get to know better, but you were just afraid to do so.

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

III.

After another long day of gruelling classes, you found yourself sitting on the wall outside of school, waiting for Doyeon to show up. After a few more minutes of waiting and constantly checking your phone, you weren’t feeling confident that Doyeon was going to show. She struggled to make it to school usually, so you highly doubted that she’d make any effort to meet up after school hours to do more work. You decided to give her the benefit of the doubt and wait for ten more minutes, in case she was running late.

The minutes slowly ticked by, students pouring out of the school gates to head home for the evening, but none of them were Doyeon. You used your hands to lower yourself off the wall, your feet hitting the ground with a thud as you grabbed your backpack and slung it over your shoulders. You were just out of the school gates, heading home when a loud rumble started coming down the street. You turned to look behind you, seeing a familiar black motorbike heading your way. You scoffed as Doyeon pulled up beside you, dressed in all black, her leather jacket around her shoulders as usual. You merely watched as she parked her bike on the side of the road, pulling off her helmet and grinning at you.

“So nice of you to show up.” You deadpanned, making the tall girl laugh. She held out a spare helmet for you, motioning to get up on the bike with her. Your eyes widened at the thought, already adamantly shaking your head to say no.

“If you don’t hop on this bike right now, I’m not coming over and I’m not doing any of the project work.” She said simply, shrugging and holding the helmet out again for you to take. You crossed your arms, a frown set in your features as you looked the bike up and down, the fear making you swallow and look down at the ground. 

“Come on, Y/N, just hold on tight. I promise you’ll be okay.” As much as you didn’t want to admit it, the sincerity in her voice really did put your mind at ease. You released a sigh, holding out your hand and reluctantly taking the helmet. You fumbled with it for a bit, not really knowing how to put it on your head, until Doyeon noticed and called you over. She helped you onto the bike, turning around to fit the protective gear onto your head. Your breath hitched in your throat as she leaned in closer to adjust the helmet a bit, your eyes scanning her face. It was the first time you’d ever been this close to her, and it was safe to say you really didn’t mind the view.

You were snapped out of your trance by Doyeon knocking on your helmet, laughing as you scowled at her antics. 

“Hold on tight and don’t let go, okay?” She asked, looking back to see you nod once. You wrapped your arms around her waist, hugging tight out of fear. You gulped as you felt the bike moving, squashing yourself against Doyeon as much as you could. Your eyes were shut tight and your arms were like a vice grip around the taller girl’s waist. You could feel her laughing every time she felt your grip tighten, pulling her impossibly closer.

You had to yell the directions to your house over Doyeon’s shoulder, squealing every time she sped around a corner. Thankfully, you had reached your house a few minutes later, Doyeon pulling over in front of your gate.

“No one home?” She asked as she noticed the empty driveway, hopping off her bike before giving you a hand off the bike too. You explained that your parents were away at work, leaving you and Doyeon home alone all evening. You took the older girl’s hand and hopped off the bike, pulling off your helmet with your other hand. You both headed towards the front door, neither of you realising that you were still hand in hand as you went. After unlocking and stepping in the door, you stopped and looked down at your still intertwined hands. Doyeon noticed what was going on, shaking her hand out of your grip and awkwardly clearing her throat. A slight blush settled on her cheeks as you looked up, and you grinned at the intimidating girl’s sudden shy behaviour.

“Come on, my room is up here.” You kicked off your shoes, motioning for Doyeon to do the same, before following you upstairs. Doyeon stepped into your room after you launched yourself onto your bed, watching her take in her surroundings. You felt a little shy as she picked up a picture frame, a photo of you and your family being displayed on it.

“I really like your room Y/N, it’s very… you.” She said finally, before sitting down at the chair in front of your desk, spinning around on it while she waited for your response.

“And how would you know anything about me, Doyeon? I think I’ve seen you in class a total of four times this year?” You asked, a smirk gracing your lips. She simply turned to face you, her brow raised as she took in your comment.

“Believe it or not, I’m always in school, and I see much more than you’d know. I just don’t like biology.” You both laughed at her cheekiness, enjoying the unexpected comfortable silence that fell between you. Doyeon stared at you, your eyes meeting her gaze until you got flustered and looked down, clearing your throat out of nervousness.

“Uh, about the project, I did some research on topics if you wanna take a look..” You trailed off, watching as Doyeon came and sat beside you. You opened your laptop and pulled it onto your lap, the tall girl beside you leaning closer to see the screen.

“I think you should pick the topic, I trust your brain more than I trust mine. Just tell me what you need me to do, and I’ll get it done.” She replied, turning to smile at you. It was the first time you’ve ever gotten a real smile out of her, and it was so much nicer than the cocky smirks you’d become accustomed to. After picking a topic and assigning different parts of the project, both of you were working faster than you’d expected. Almost all of the project was done, and you just had to start putting together a presentation to give in front of your class.

“Doyeon, can I ask you something?”

“Mm, go ahead.”

“Why are you being nice to me?” You asked, sitting cross-legged on the floor as you leaned your head against the side of your bed. The taller girl was paying full attention now, turning to sit and face you.

“What do you mean? Have I been mean to you before Y/N?” She asked, her head cutely lilting to the side as her eyes showed nothing but genuine concern. You were honestly taken aback by the girl sitting in front of you, it seemed like a completely different person than you were used to.

“Well, not exactly I guess, but you’ve never had a proper conversation with me, and you always call me pet names in class and then go on and ignore me whenever you see me outside the biology lab.” You explained, looking straight into her big, brown eyes.

“Well, I guess we were just never in the same friend group outside of class, but I do apologize if I ever hurt your feelings, princess.” She laughed a bit at your reaction to the pet name, even though you didn’t really mind it.

“Come on Y/N, you know you love it when I call you that.” She continued, her tone a bit more serious than it had been before as she looked for your reaction to her words. You bit your lip slightly, trying to hide the blush that was threatening to creep up onto your cheeks.

“I mean… I guess I dont hate it…” You said finally, scratching the back of your neck and trying to look anywhere else except at the girl who was sitting across from you, chuffed to know that you didn’t really dislike her.

“This is a lot coming from the girl who tried to ignore me in class and called my friends dumbasses just a few days ago,” She piped up again, making you groan as you thought of what you had said back in the biology lab.

“I’m only gonna say this once, so listen up.” You said, half serious, half joking. “I’d like to apologise for what I said, and I’d also like to say sorry for judging you before I’d ever spent time with you. I’ve actually really enjoyed myself today, and I wasn’t expecting to. So… Thank you.” You finished, looking up to see a soft smile on Doyeon’s face.

You weren’t quite expecting her to crawl over beside you, nor were you expecting her to wrap an arm around your shoulder, but you can’t say you minded either of those actions. You stiffened a little at the unexpected contact, but you couldn’t help but lean closer into the girl’s side, feeling comfortable against her.

“Is this okay?” Doyeon asked, and your heart melted at her considerate words. You nodded, resting your hand on her thigh as you continued chatting away for the rest of the evening until Doyeon finally had to go. Both of you reluctantly got up, neither of you wanting to leave the other’s comfort and warmth. You walked her to the door, waiting for her to put her boots back on before she stepped out onto your porch.

“We can finish everything next week or whenever you h-”

Doyeon’s words were silenced by your lips on hers. You don’t know what came over you when you saw her standing there, the orange light of the sky framing her as the sun was setting in the distance. Your lips didn’t leave hers as she pulled you closer, both of you standing on her porch. Her hands gripped your waist tightly, her fingers squeezing you out of affection. After eventually pulling away in need of air, the two of you were shocked at what just happened.

“Sorry… I don’t really know why I did that…” You said,mumbling away to yourself as you tried to process what just happened.

“It’s okay, I… I liked it.” Doyeon said, her hand reaching out to grab your own. The blush on your cheeks was impossible to notice, even more so as Doyeon cupped your face with her free hand, pressing another soft kiss to your lips. 

“Listen, I’d love to stay, but It’s getting late and I really have to go. Can we meet up after school tomorrow to… talk?” Doyeon asked, rubbing her thumb gently over your knuckles. You looked up at her with a smile, nodding as she smiled back, her eyes crinkling with joy. She leaned down once more, kissing you softly, before kissing the top of your hand and stepping off your porch to get back on her bike. You watched with a small smile as she drove off, her hair flowing from the wind as she headed into the distance.

After shutting the door and running back upstairs, you leapt onto your bed like a little kid, jumping around as the butterflies in your stomach went crazy. You pulled out your phone to text Yoojung what had happened, and it was safe to say that there was an alarming amount of exclamation marks and random love emojis thrown into the text, more than you’d ever like to admit to using.

You stayed up most of the night thinking about what had just happened, and praying that Doyeon would really stick around. Heartbreak wasn’t something you were ready for at this stage in your life, but you were confident that the tall girl felt the same way about you as you did for her. It was truly hard to believe that the Doyeon you had known yesterday was the same girl you kissed on your front porch mere minutes ago. Love worked in mysterious ways, and it was clear that you and Doyeon were no exception to the strange workings of fate.

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

IV.

“Can you believe that was a whole year ago, baby?” Doyeon asked, her arm around your shoulder. You were both laughing as you thought back to how awkward you’d been with each other. You couldn’t imagine life without Doyeon by your side now, the two of you were practically inseparable.

“Best year of my life though.” You finished, earning a kiss on the temple from your girlfriend at your sweet words. Doyeon had driven you both out to your secret spot on her bike, the two of you loving the privacy you had. It was just a small beach a little out of town, but not many people came here beside you two. You were sitting on the sand together as the sun set above the sea in front of you - the orange hues another reminder of the first kiss you two shared. The smile on your face could never be taken away, you felt like the happiest person in the world now that Doyeon was yours. This was love, it really was.

“I love you Y/N, thank you for brightening up my life when I really needed it.” You turned your head to face your girlfriend, your eyes closing as you saw she was already leaning in. Her kisses still brought butterflies to your tummy, and you could feel her smiling against your lips. You giggled as you pulled away, smitten and joyous, all thanks to the girl in front of you.

“I love you too Doyeon, so much.” You whispered out, pulling away from her lips slowly as you rested your head against her shoulder. This was true happiness, and you were never, ever going to let go of the girl beside you for as long as you could. Real love like this only comes around once in a lifetime, and it would be a crime for you to ever let something like this slip through your hands.

[madpanda75]

“Taking Chances Part 10: The Perfect Gift”

Part 10 is here! Not gonna lie, this chapter is short and not my best work but a necessary bridge to get to the climax of our story! Fair warning, it ends on a cliffhanger. Enjoy! ❤️ 

It was the Tuesday after the dramatic Carisi lunch. You typically had Mondays off from the gallery and after fucking Rafael senseless in front of the fireplace, it didn’t take much convincing on your part to get him to play hooky. The majority of your day was spent in bed— making love, browsing through Netflix, and eating Chinese takeout. It was a much needed escape from your chaotic lives and you still had a few more hours before reality set in. 

The brilliant warm rays of the early morning sun peeked through your curtains. You languorously stretched your limbs, reveling in the sensation of your bare legs against the soft cotton sheets. With a long, drawn out yawn, you reached over to the nightstand for your cup of coffee and aimlessly flipped through a copy of the New Yorker. However your attention was otherwise preoccupied with a freshly showered Rafael walking around your bedroom with a towel hanging low around his hips. You nearly spilled your hot drink into your lap while counting the water droplets on Rafael’s bare chest, watching one droplet slide down his stomach towards his happy trail.

He let the towel drop to the floor and began to get dressed for work, arching his brow when he caught you perched on the edge of the bed staring at him with your jaw hanging wide open. 

You blushed and cleared your throat. “Are you sure I can’t make you breakfast?”

“Thanks for the offer but I should try to get to the office early,” he said, holding up two ties for you to choose from.

You picked the silk violet tie. The purple hue brought out your boyfriend’s brilliant green eyes. “Ok, but promise me that you’ll eat something other than the stale pretzels at the precinct.”

“I promise.” Rafael gave you a quick peck on the lips and wrapped his tie around his neck when he realized that he was missing a key element to his wardrobe. “Where’s my shirt? I swore it was right here a min—” His search for the missing shirt came to a screeching halt when he noticed you were wearing it.

“Sorry babe.” A nervous giggle escaped your lips. “Who knew Armani made such comfortable clothes and besides I love how it smells.”

Rafael furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “How it smells?”

“Uh huh.” Your cheeks turned bright pink and you nervously fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “It smells like you.”

An warm, fuzzy feeling coursed through Rafael’s veins at your confession. He cupped your face and tenderly kissed you before pulling away. “If you love the shirt so much, then it’s yours.”

“Really?” You glanced down at his undershirt and the tie draped around his neck. “But what are you gonna wear?”

“I have a spare shirt in my office that I keep in case of emergency coffee stains.”

You beamed brightly and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Best boyfriend ever,” you murmured against his lips before kissing him.

He deepened the kiss, parting your lips with his tongue as his hands inched further down your back towards your ass. You moaned in response, feeling him squeeze your cheeks.

“Mi amor,” he said between kisses. “I have to go.”

 “No. Five more minutes. Please,” you whined, pressing your body against his.

Rafael groaned, all the blood from his brain rushing towards his cock. You were playing a dangerous game. “If we keep this up in five more minutes I’m going to be between your legs, fucking you so hard that you’ll forget your own name.”

You nuzzled against his neck as your hand began to palm his growing erection. “Well they do say that testosterone is higher in the morning. Care to put that theory to the test?” 

“Y/N,” he said in a warning tone.

With a sigh of defeat, you stopped. “Alright, can’t blame a girl for trying.” You planted one last chaste kiss on the tip of his nose and gently pushed him towards the door. “Go on. Get outta here.”

 “I’ll see you later tonight.” He grabbed his jacket and left the bedroom only to return 30 seconds later. “I forgot something.”

“What did you—” Rafael cut you off with a passionate kiss causing you both to fall back on the bed.  Your heart fluttered. You were so lost in the moment that you forgot how to breathe. You could taste him on your tongue. All too soon the kiss ended and you were left dazed with thoroughly soaked panties.

“I love you,” he purred and playfully nipped on your lower lip before leaving with a smug smile firmly planted on his face.

“Love you too,” you mumbled and held up the shirt to your nose, inhaling deeply. 

*****

A few hours later you were sitting in the small studio at the back of the gallery, dotting leaves onto a canvas. You skipped to the next song on your playlist and stepped back to analyze your work. The painting was of a large, vibrant tree in the center of a grey, bleak city. The tree was designed to look like Rafael. Its leaves matched the color of his eyes. Of course it wasn’t typical for trees to have seafoam green leaves but that was the beauty of art. You even tried to sketch his face in the trunk, its bark resembling his crooked smile and strong aquiline nose. 

Underneath the tree stood the shadowy figure of a woman meant to be you. The tree’s branches were outstretched, gently caressing you, comforting you. In the palms of your hands, you cradled your heart, offering it to the tree as the only possession you had to give. In your opinion, it was the perfect depiction of your relationship. Rafael was your protector. With him, you felt loved, safe, hopeful for the future. He symbolized a new chapter in your life.

Your “Rafael-inspired” piece was meant to be a surprise, since the elusive search for the perfect art for his home was still ongoing. Lucky for him, inspiration struck one rainy Saturday several weeks ago. Well, lazy for you. Rafael was busy typing away on his laptop. Snuggling against him with the rain pattering against the window, a flood of emotions washed over you. The next day you woke up before dawn, grabbed your brushes and paint and snuck over to the studio.

From above the sound of your music playing through your headphones, you heard the door open and turned your head to see your coworker, Phoebe, walk in.

“Bonjour, ma petite aubergine!” she said in a tone that was way too chipper for 8:30 in the morning. 

You snorted a laugh and turned off your music. “Good morning, my little eggplant?” you repeated the phrase.

“I love eggplant,” she replied with a shrug and went to stand behind you, surveying your work. “Hmmm… I like it.”

You made a face. “You sure? It’s not too cheesy?”

She hemmed and hawed for a moment before answering. “A little, but that’s ok. It's the good kind of cheesy.”

A sigh below past your lips. “You sure?”

“Absolutely,” she tried to reassure you. “And anyways, love makes people cheesy.” You blushed and went back to your painting while she milled around the room looking at your other pieces. “Ya’ know, there’s a new artist night at this gallery my friend works for. You should reach out to them. See if they’ll let you show your art. There are enough pieces here to choose from.” You opened your mouth to speak but she cut you off. “And before you say anything, I don’t wanna hear any excuses.” She gently took you by the shoulders and made you stand to face her. “You are incredibly talented and you should share that talent with the world while making a few bucks in the process.”

“Maybe you’re right,” you conceded, glancing back at your unfinished canvas.

Phoebe’s eyes widened. “I am? I mean, of course I am! Damn, this is the first time I’ve ever heard you consider doing a show. That Rafael guy must be a good influence on you.”

“Yeah, he’s the best.” You smiled, thinking back to earlier that morning. 

“Speaking of which,”—she grabbed a spare chair and sat down, getting comfortable—“how did the whole ‘meet the parents’ scenario play out?”

You threw your head back and groaned. “Ugh, why did you have to remind me?”

“Uh-oh. Sounds like we’re gonna need coffee.” She stood up and grabbed her purse. “I’m gonna get a cappuccino from the cafe around the corner. Can I get you something?”

“An Americano and a cinnamon roll.”

“Be back in a flash. I wanna hear all about it. Family drama sustains me, especially when it’s not mine,” she teased before leaving.

You rolled your eyes and began to tidy up. While you stood at the sink, cleaning your brushes, watching the colors swirl and dissolve down the drain, you wondered if Rafael would like his surprise. You hoped he would. It took you hours to get just the right shade of green. 

This gift was a big deal. Apart from your parents, you had never created a piece for anyone else. Your art was private. It was personal. Giving it away was like giving away a part of you. But you and Rafael were beyond that. This past weekend only confirmed what you had known from the moment he stepped into the gallery— that you were his, completely.

The sound of the door opening snapped you out of reverie. “That was fast, Phoebe,” you said over the running water. “I guess the cute barista wasn’t working today cause normally you spend a solid twenty minutes flirting before actually ordering your drink. I’m almost finished here. Give me a sec and then I can tell you about the worst Sunday lunch in the history of the Carisi family and that includes the time my Aunt Anita stabbed my Uncle Tony with a fork. ”

“Awww c’mon, babe. It wasn’t that bad,” said a voice that you recognized all too well. 

Stunned, your hands froze, the brushes clanging against the sink. “This can’t be happening. Please, God don’t let it be him,” you thought, slowly turning around only to find your ex-fiancé standing right in the middle of your studio. 

“Theo,” you stammered. “What are you doing here?”

He ignored your question and took a step towards you with a sinister smile that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. 

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[whump-town]

Professors

No one asked for more of this AU and, truthfully, I don’t even know why I keep writing it. We all know I have other things to be doing. The Cancer AU, the PowerPoint, and other fics left unfinished. Yet, here I am offering garbage

WARNING FOR Reid whump, implied abuse

Growing up, Spencer Reid relished his escapism. Spending hours, days even, cooped into the smallest holes of his mother’s house with nothing but books and the ability to lose track of time and space. More importantly, his ability to ignore the obvious. Here it did not matter that his mother thought he was a spy. That she’d slapped him so hard he’d felt his teeth smack together and his eyes shake in their sockets. 

Now, he’s a little too old for that. Escaping is so much harder to do. 

“Reid?”

The lights of his office are off, the door shut firmly behind him. With every ounce of his concentration on steading his ataxic gait and forcing his trembling hands around the doorknob of his office, he would have remembered to lock the door on his way in. Unfortunately, his days of complete solitude are behind him. A toll often paid for in order to acquire friends. His fellow professors of-- whatever it is they all teach. 

“Spencer--” Hotch. Thank god. “I’m going to come in okay?”

Now, Reid can remember the distinct tap of Hotch’s approaching figure. Closing his eyes and pushing his head further into his couch, Reid hears the door open. Tap. Hotch’s old shoes scuffing across the unforgivingly rough carpet. Tap, more muffled now. One more half-raised step and the sound of the real, thick wood of Hotch’s cane being hooked over the arm of the plastic chair painted to look wooden to his left. 

“What can I do?”

Reid doesn’t answer, just keeps his sweaty palms pressing into his ears. If he moves, he’s certain that his body will explode. Little bits of genius coating all for walls. His books covered in gore. Another mess. 

“You haven’t been sleeping.”

Hard, calloused fingers wrap around the back of his neck. The tips digging into the stiffened muscles until Reid lets out a whimper. Then, with certainty and reflexive habit, one hand remains kneading the muscles until they ease while the other plants itself firmly on his flank. Stilling his body. Well, to be as still as Reid can. 

His body has been out of his control since he was nine. The maternal drive had not been enough to protect him. For years, his mother had been distracted with work and by his father. She made time for him amidst the books but he was spared her anger and confusion. Until his father left and she could no longer work reliably. Then, one night in a fit of paranoia, his mother had hit him. She’d hit him so hard that no amount of genius had sparred him.

His cerebellum is damaged. 

Garcia could tell you far more about the reasoning behind how he is now. He can too but it’s far too taxing to recount each of his bodily flaws. His disabilities. 

Their silence is interrupted by a soft knock at the door and peaking out from under the suit jacket Reid hadn’t realized Hotch had tucked around him, he can see Emily. Her dark eyes flash twice over the scene before her and immediately she sinks. That’s what he loves most about her. In all her hardness, Emily is easily one of the kindest people he’s ever met.

Raised by her mother’s hip, Emily had known too much about politics and little of the reflexive kindness of those around her. To be born good and to choose good is always a rewarded ideology. People like Penelope Garcia and Derek Morgan. Born good, surrounded by good, and only learning of the evil much later are fantastic people. They have their own struggles but they overcame them. To Reid, there is nothing more interesting than those surrounded by the cold curling fingers of the world but come out good. Emily wasn’t hugged as a child. Praise came at the expense of crushing her peers and never knowing what a good friend was. Hotch was raised by two abusive, domineering parents. For them to choose kindness, to willingly soften their edges is… it’s commendable. 

But maybe that’s all the pointless rambling of a book nerd. 

“Que pasa?” Spanish has always lent itself to be Emily’s most practice language. Perhaps, it has to do with the softened curls and rolls of the language. It’s never sounded rough, coarse coming out of her mouth. She sounds like the women who raised her. The maids who cleaned gravel out of her knees when she fell in the driveway and the calloused fingertips that ran under her eyes to quickly wipe her tears. 

With a soft, tsks Emily comes into the room. “Get off the floor,” she whispers to Hotch. His long spider-like legs curled every which way. She has no way of being able to tell how he’s been on the floor but she knows any length of time will come with repercussions. “If you can,” there is an emphasis on his abilities. Not to push himself. “Get Penelope-- wait…” She realizes a moment too soon that won’t work. “She’s got a class. I need you to get Derek.” 

Garcia is like their shady doctor. She went through all the training-- undergraduate, medical school, and interned. After a bit though, she realized that stitches, sutures, and contusions were not in fact something she loved. Not even a little. So, she went to computers. A huge financial burden to take on but that was her calling. Now she has tenure and spends her time balancing JJ’s art classes with her own class on programming. 

Derek is an actual doctor but he only practice theoretical medicine. Too busy teaching know-it-all medical school students about ethics. Reid likes to joke that he’s just a philosophy professor. Being an english literature professor leaves him pretty open to any comebacks Morgan can think of in the moment. 

Slowly rising to his feet, Hotch totters. Emily’s long fingers curl around his bicep, an unspoken order to hold still for just a moment. Long enough for his labored breathing to calm back down and his back to stop aching so feverishly. “You’ll be no help hurting yourself,” she comments, releasing him. She avoids his eyes, almost flushed having been caught touching him. Stepping into his space. It’s nothing for someone else but Hotch isn’t someone like Garcia and she’s not gentle like Reid. Turning her back, she’s stops any further comment. Any looks or reciprocation of that touch. 

Hotch leans heavily into the cane curling into his right palm. The wood slick with the calmness of his hand. “I’ll be back,” he promises, feeling a sickening twist in his stomach. All too conscious of every step being measured out by the tap, tap of his cane on the cold tiled floor. 

It’s that very sound that alerts Derek to Hotch closing in. 

Unlike Reid, what ails Hotch is undetermined. People, like puzzles, are simple enough to put together with enough the edges put together. For Reid, the edge pieces are his mother’s schizophrenia, her bouts of aggression, and her love of books. From there, blossoms the genius of the youngest professor the school has ever had. His cerebral injury is accounted for by his mother’s illness. Her abuse. No matter how much Reid dances around the use of that word. Her love had taken him here, to this university and to his profound love of books. To Reid, that love, has always mattered more than the rest. 

Hotch, though, he is a man completely lacking in edges. 

What does Derek Morgan know about Aaron Hotchner? He used to work at the District Attorney’s office. There is a mark on his record but the matters of it have been expunged, he was about sixteen according to the date. Those are matter of public record. He likes orange juice better than apple juice. If someone else is making it, he takes his coffee black, but when he makes it for himself it’s a mess of gradually adding sugar and creamer until he’s content. And the cane. It’s purpose is clear. The why is more important. It’s not very typical of men not yet fifty to need mobility aides.  

The tapping stops at his open door, he doesn’t need to look up from what he’s doing to know who it is or where he is. “You’re going to royally fuck your shoulder up if you don’t start using that cane on the other side.” 

As it always does, his comment is ignored. The excuse is always the same. Hotch is left handed, he simply prefers to keep his left hand free. It’s a matter of convenience. “Reid is having an episode--” 

Pushing himself up, Derek doesn’t need to hear the rest. For a moment he does falter. Unsure if should falter back with Hotch, allowing the older man to set their pace rather than making Hotch’s slow, zombie like lurches seem exaggeratedly slowed by Derek’s easy, long pace. Deciding Reid to be what he needs to focus on he simply walks around Hotch. “Use the cane on the other side,” Derek says, as he steps on. “Or I’m going to start emailing you articles about the damage you’re doing to your body.”

Hotch huffs.

“If that doesn’t work I’ll send them to JJ and Emily.”

Hotch curses softly, “you wouldn’t.”

Morgan just smiles, jogging on down the hall, and knowing by the paced tap, tap that Hotch is coming in behind him. 

“Pretty boy.” Sinking to his knees with an ease Hotch could not afford earlier in his comfort, Morgan pushes Reid’s sweat soaked hair back from his skin. The fever and tension become immediately apparent. Reid’s brain, as genius as it is, often forgets that Reid and his body are one. Not two separate things in which one needs to be attacked to protect itself. Today, his entire body suffers with the attack. His stomach aching, brain swelling, and back in flames. His body often betrays him. 

Emily moves away from the pair, untangling her own body to stand and leave the room. Reid won’t appreciate a crowd and Morgan can handle this. Plus, she’s a coward. She doesn’t want to see him in pain any longer. 

“He’s okay.”

Emily steps out into the hall to find JJ and Hotch. Having found a seat in the hall, Hotch is failing to subtly rub at his aching side. JJ, covered in red paint, is only finding his pain as fuel to the fire. Obviously, she is taking his word for a grain of rice. 

“Emily,” JJ greets. “How is he?”

Hotch just shakes his head, leaning his head forward onto his cane. 

“Derek’s with him. He’s just having an… a moment.” Episode sounds too harsh. A thing that Reid can never be. His skeletole, looming gentleness is tender. Clammy, at times, but nothing but loving. “He just needs a moment.” None-the-less, JJ understands exactly what she means. 

But that is, in a way, simply a lie. There is nothing that can be done for Reid in these moments. blinded by pain, he still will not cave. Never, not once, has Reid ever allowed them to give him something to manage the pain. He’ll take vitamins and ibuprofen for headaches but not for the other things. Not for this. 

“Just breathe.”

All they can do is be there. Rub their fingers into the tension and hold his hand.