#would get help from someone in the series :(

[kathaynesart]

And here we go. For the full experience I would recommend reading while listening to THIS SONG. It inspired a vast majority of the scene as well as the timing, though I fear you'd have to read pretty fast to get to the ending at the same time as the song ends, so uh... good luck! Trigger warnings below:

The Day the Sky Bled Red

BEGINNING || PREVIOUS || NEXT (SOON) MASTER POST

Whew. I'm so glad to finally be done with these big updates. After over a year I will finally be able to return to my smaller update format.

Some keen viewers might notice the reuse of certain shots from the series. There is very much intentional, though the reason for this will not be made clear until the ending of the arc.

As of the final shot we are FINALLY back to present-day in the Replica timeline (if it wasn't obvious). I'd drop in a timeline for reference but uh... I maxed out on the Tumblr images. Oh well. Hopefully the context clues were enough to help though!

I do want to take a moment to TED Talk about Raph's ninpo, if that's alright. Unlike his brothers, Raph didn't really spend much time trying to come up with unique ways of using his abilities. Why improve what already worked for him? However, I do think one interesting ability could have come naturally to him over time. I always found his way of mentally connecting with his brothers as "Mind Raph" to be a fascinating joke in the series. They way he could help and communicate with his brothers is something that was always really important to him and I see that ability bleeding into his ninpo. Because of this I feel that his Raph clones were always able to find and reach his brothers no matter the distance. His ability to interact with them at the same time was something he was still learning in the series, like when Mind Raph apologized to Leo for taking a moment too long to respond because he was busy helping someone else. Because of this I see his clones being able to react and communicate independently (kind of like Naruto clones), but are in constant connection to the original source, Raph himself. This made it really easy for Raph to relay information to the brothers, though it was seldom needed since Donnie's ninpo tech normally had that covered. On another note, I also wanted to make a point that whenever one of the brothers died in the bad future timeline, it was when they were separated from their brothers. I always liked in the movie how it wasn't until the brothers worked together that they were able to regain their abilities, confront the Krang, and even open portals to different dimensions. I wanted that lesson to resonate in Replica as well, even if subtly. Anyways, thanks for coming to my TED Talk!

The rest of the arc will be a lot less action, but still plenty more emotions. I can't promise that we won't be doing more flashbacks in the future but nothing to the extent of the "Holiday Special." We got a story to get through after all!

Thank you so much everyone for your patience with me as I slowly inch my way through this big story. It means a lot to me! I promise the next update will not be so emotionally draining.

[atan-orofarne]

Folks. We need to stop flipping shit about things because someone on the internet doesn't understand them and spreads false information to get people riled up.

One of the big "articles" out there raising alarm bells about this is from the website of a firm selling "security software" that they want you to install instead. Naturally, this company wants to freak you out so you'll install and pay for their software that has deep access to your system.

Here are a series of statements from the makers of the open source and privacy-focused GrapheneOS variant of Android.

In the thread, they also linked to Google's announcement here:

So…does this app look at every image on your phone?

No, it doesn't seem so. It will look at images and media in incoming SMS and RCS messages and provide spam and content warnings. That's actually a good feature. Helping protect people against scams and phishing, and helping people avoid potentially unsolicited explicit content in their incoming messages if they don't want to see it — these are both good things.

And these things are only done at the behest of other apps that specifically choose to implement and make use of the new features.

The image scanning in Google's Messages app (one of the few that has implemented this) is also opt-in.

This is NOT scanning every image on your phone or downloaded by your phone, and it's not going to blur images across your system. It will only do classification in apps that integrate the feature, and the only app that does so is opt-in only.

Does the app send things to the cloud?

No. It doesn't seem so. People don't have a good idea of what phones are capable of these days. Most Android phones that have been made in the past few years include specific hardware to allow them to run machines learning algorithms efficiently with relatively low power draw. This app takes advantage of that to do processing on-device.

It would be really, really stupid for Google to put this app out and make claims about it that are bald-faced lies. Like, potentially lawsuit-worthy.

And as the Graphene folks point out, it would be very easy for any moderately enterprising security researchers to inspect the app, see what it does, and check their claims.

Fundamentally, this app is most comparable to antivirus software.

In fact, it seems to be less active than your average antivirus software, which actually does scan everything that comes into your machine, everything that runs on your machine, and occasionally scans literally every file on your machine.

If you have antivirus installed on a computer (which you absolutely should), you're trusting it with a lot more access, and you're trusting it to do a bunch of machine learning analysis offline on your local machine.

Now, maybe you still don't want to have this feature around. But also consider that if you're already trusting Google to make your phone OS and not do nefarious things with all the private information you have one there, then it's not a big stretch to invest the same trust in an app that does on-device situational classifying of incoming messages and media.

hey folks if you have an android phone: google shadow installed a "security app".

I had to go and delete it myself this morning.

[heavyhitterheaux]

You Put a Move on My Heart (Slight NSFW)

See Me Through You Series

I've got a real thing here by my side

someone who needs me holding me tight

and these special feelings won't ever fade

cause I knew from the start you put a move on my heart

Synopsis: You're excited to spend your first Valentine’s Day with Joe, but things don't go exactly as planned

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

The look on your face was one of disbelief as you looked at your best friend who was smiling at you and wiggling her eyebrows.

“I don't why I always ask you for advice or suggestions or literally ANYTHING anymore. Everything that comes out of your mouth is typically diabolical.” You told her as she continued to smile at you.

“Look, don't get all loud with me. You asked for a suggestion and I gave it to you. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with what I suggested.” She replied as she threw a few doritos in her mouth.

“Do you think he'll like it?” You asked suddenly, becoming nervous, but as well as you knew your boyfriend deep down you knew that the answer would be yes.

“Y/N… he's a man. What the hell do you think? I never met one that doesn't.”

“Hmm, good point. Now how bad does it hurt?”

“I mean it's not a little tickle, but it's definitely not like getting hit by a tractor trailer as far as pain goes.”

“And you have had said experience with the tractor trailer?” You asked as you raised your eyebrow.

“You get on my nerves. You're getting your nipples pierced and we’re going and we're going now. Oh, and don't wear a bra, it’ll be irritating. This will be part one of Joe's Valentine's Day gifts. I know a girl that will do both for twenty dollars.”

“I… Twenty dollars!? I don't want my nipples to fall off after an hour!” You exclaimed as your eyes suddenly went wide.

“She pierced mine and I lived to tell the tale. She does it out of her basement though so….”

“NO. We are going to an actual tattoo shop.”

“Oh, so you agree? You'll do it?” Erin asked and you let out a huff.

“If something goes wrong, I'm blaming you.”

“Oh, please. Just you wait. Joe will be thanking me.”

After looking up a tattoo shop that wasn’t too far from your apartment, you scanned the reviews to see that everyone had been satisfied when they went there whether they had gotten a tattoo or a piercing. Erin offered to drive and once she put the address in the GPS, the two of you were on your way.

Once she parked in the parking lot behind the building, the two of you walked around the front and when you had crossed the threshold of the door, you were met with different tattoo designs covering the walls and a girl sitting at the front desk twirling one of the piercings that she had in her ears. When she looked up and saw the two of you, she instantly got a smile on her face.

“Hi! How can I help you?” She politely asked and Erin wasted absolutely no time in blurting it out.

“My best friend wants her nipples pierced to surprise her boyfriend for Valentine’s Day and I dragged her here.”

Hearing her say it out loud made you instantly cross your arms protectively over your chest. All in all, you knew that you had a high pain tolerance, but seeing as it was one of the most sensitive parts of your body, you weren’t quite sure.

“Of course! You just have to fill out this paperwork right here and then I’ll need your id.” As you nodded your head, she handed you the clipboard along with a pen and pointed to a bench where you could sit and fill it out.

The most “exotic” piercing you had besides your ears was your nose and belly button. The idea of piercing anything else, especially your nipples had never even crossed your mind. You should have known better than to ask Erin for a suggestion since you knew how she was.

Once you were finished, you walked back up to the desk and handed the forms over along with your driver’s license and as she was looking it over to make sure you didn’t miss anything, you glanced back at Erin who had given you a thumbs up along with a small smirk.

“Okay, we are all set, if you’ll follow me. Is your friend coming?”

“No, I’ll stay out here. She’s a champ, she can take it.”

Looking at her in disbelief as she declined to come with you, she waved you off and you quickly followed the girl to the back to one of the many rooms that they used for piercings.

“You can sit over there while I get everything set up. And are we doing one or both?”

“We can do both. Might as well.” You decided as you took off your jacket to place it on one of the chairs that was next to the window.

“And gold or silver jewelry?”

“Hmm, silver. Since it matches everything else I have.”

She nodded her head as she opened a drawer full of piercing jewelry and quickly pulled out two barbells.

“So, besides this, what are your other special plans for your boyfriend?” She asked as she motioned for you to lift your shirt and she quickly began cleaning the area, starting with the right.

“Well, my boyfriend is a huge nerd and I love that about him so he’s getting a Spongebob lego set and also a cologne that he loves since I noticed he was running low and didn’t have a lot left. I think we agreed that we were going to make dinner at my apartment or his and not go out since we know everyone else will be out and about.”

“I love that idea and I absolutely love Spongebob. You ready?”

As soon as you gave her the nod of approval, you felt the needle pierce your skin and you instantly winced. Within a second, it was over and she was screwing the end of it on and cleaning around it.

“Good, one down and one more to go. You okay?”

“It actually wasn’t as bad as I thought.”

“Oh, they’ll throb later. Make sure you take something for it.” She said while smiling and that immediately led to a frown on your face.

—

Wanting to keep the new piercing a surprise, you didn’t plan on telling him and he would simply see it on Valentine’s Day. It was now February 13th and you had noticed earlier in the day when you woke up how you had felt a little off for some reason. You still did your normal routine of going to gymnastics practice as well as going to class, but was thankful when you had finally gotten back to your apartment.

Before you decided on dinner, you wanted to take a shower and get comfortable for the night since it had been such a long day and would probably end up with you falling asleep on the phone with your boyfriend as you had done many times before. As you turned on the water in the bathroom and waited for it to heat up, you started to strip down out of your clothes and immediately let out a groan and was trying not to throw a little temper tantrum.

“You cannot be fucking serious. Why did this shit decide to come early?!” You said out loud to no one in particular as you saw it.

After you let out a deep sigh, you went on the hunt under your sink for products as well as comfy clothes from your bedroom to change into once you were finished.

When you were out of the shower, you got dressed and moisturized your hair before picking up your phone and texting the groupchat with Erin and Alisha.

You- You two won’t fucking believe this

Alisha- WHAT HAPPENED?!

Erin- SPILL THE TEA

You- I got my period and now one of Joey’s surprises are ruined

Erin- Damn it. And it’s a good surprise too.

Alisha- Oh, right, the nipple piercing. I’m sorry babes. Joe can just give you all the cuddles you want and feed you chocolate

Erin- I have a suggestion or a recommendation if you will

Alisha- Oh lord smh

You- Uh…

Erin- Okay, great! Glad you asked!

You- I actually didn’t ask, but okay

Erin- Period sex

You- I….. 😳😳😳

Alisha- Erin, is there anything under the sun that you haven’t tried?

Erin- Nope! And it makes your cramps feel better, but only if you’re up for it and of course if Joe is comfortable. But knowing his ass, anything you want, he’ll do it. Just get like a period sex blanket and put it down on your bed and go for it

You-No thanks, I’ll be satisfied with the cuddles

Erin- I just wanted to give you an idea! Oh I have another one! He can literally just make you cum by playing with your nipple rings

You- Bye Erin. I’m going to see if Joey can bring me some candy and ice cream over. Starting not to feel all that well

Alisha- Ask for kisses too! That always helps

Erin- Let me know if you try it!

Once you got settled on the couch, the cramps really started to kick in and the most comfortable position that you could be in at the moment was the fetal position. Knowing that just sitting there wasn't going to do anything to help your pain, you made it up in your mind to head to the kitchen in order to get something for the pain.

As you dragged yourself to the kitchen to look for some ibuprofen, you sighed when you noticed that your cabinets were empty. Unlocking your phone took a few times since your eyes were brimming with tears because of how much pain you were in and quickly facetimed Joe.

It took him no time to answer and when he picked up, he had a concerned expression on his face as he saw you upset and wincing.

“Baby doll? What’s wrong?”

“Can you bring me ibuprofen and a shitton of chocolate and ice cream? I currently feel like I was hit by a car.” You breathed out as you held onto the counter to steady yourself.

“Yeah, of course, anything else you need?” He asked as you saw him getting up and moving around his bedroom.

“Cuddles from my boyfriend because I feel like absolute shit right now.”

“Okay, let me get dressed and I should be there in thirty minutes at the most. Go and try to lay down, but leave the door open for me so you don’t have to get back up.”

Nodding your head, you did as you were told before walking to your bedroom and crawling to the top of your bed.

“Fuck, this hurtssss.”

“Did you eat dinner yet?”

“No, but the way I feel I would honestly probably throw it back up.”

“But yet you want chocolate and ice cream?” He asked confusedly as he was putting on his shoes.

“Joey, I don’t make the rules, okay? I just abide by them.”

“I’ll get you something anyway, just in case. I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay, I love you.” You mumbled as you propped your phone up on the nightstand.

“I love you too.”

When your eyes fluttered open, it took you a second for them to adjust and you noticed that there was now a heating pad on your stomach and your boyfriend’s arms were wrapped around you. Glancing at the nightstand, you saw the bottle of ibuprofen along with your water and chocolate.

Not wanting to turn around and move from your comfortable position, you simply called out for your boyfriend.

“Babeeeee.” You whined and in response, Joe leaned over and kissed your cheek.

“Yes, pretty girl?”

“Thank you for bringing what I needed.”

“You’re welcome. Now I need you to sit up and take this medicine since you were knocked out when I got here.” He told you as he helped you to sit up. You reached over and popped four pills in your mouth and a swig of water to wash it down before turning to look at him.

“I ruined our first Valentine’s Day.” You said as you pouted, but Joe let out a small laugh.

“You didn’t ruin anything, baby.”

“But my period decided to come early! It’s like it KNEW!”

“Look, if you’re comfortable with it, we can still do something because that doesn’t bother me. But if you’d rather wait until it’s over that’s fine too. Biggest thing for me is making sure that you’re okay.”

“Why are you like the perfect boyfriend?” You asked and you could feel that you were about to start crying again.

“I’m not perfect, I just take my girlfriend’s feelings into consideration. And Valentine’s Day isn’t only about sex. There’s plenty of other things we can do, but since I know how your cramps are, we can just stay in tomorrow and watch your favorite movies. We’re still going to make dinner and spend time with each other.”

“I need to get you another gift for that.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t need to get me a gift for doing something basic such as considering how you feel.”

“Doing it anyway, and you can’t change my mind. And wait a minute….. Joseph….”

“I… damn why are you saying my full government name?”

“You never actually asked me to be your Valentine!”

“Princess, you cannot be serious. Who else would I want to be my Valentine?” Joe asked as he looked at you in disbelief.

“I don’t know! Those girls that always come up to you on campus to say hi!”

“I… do not start. They don’t compare to you and you know it.”

“I guess I’ll let it slide since you did come and give me cuddles when I asked for them.” You said as you made him lean down so that you could kiss him.

“You're going to be my Valentine starting from now until forever.”

“Okay, you talk a big game, but I’m holding you to that Burrow.”

“Now that I have you, I’m definitely not letting you go.”

The day had finally arrived and you woke up with your room being surrounded by red and pink heart shaped balloons. You looked to your right to see that your boyfriend was nowhere to be found, but in his place was a huge teddy bear that you knew for a fact was bigger than you with a card attached to it.

Smiling to yourself, you opened the card to see Joe’s handwriting staring back at you.

Y/N, better known as my princess or baby doll,

So excited to be spending our first Valentine’s Day together and I spent about a month deciding on what I should get for you. I hope you love all of your gifts that I bought you, but keep in mind no material things can amount to how much I love and care about you. I’m thankful and grateful to have you in my life and this is only scratching the surface of what is to come for the both of us.

Love, Joey

As you placed the card back inside of the envelope, your bedroom door opened to reveal your boyfriend and you immediately opened your arms signaling to him that you wanted a hug.

After maneuvering through the many balloons, he came over to the left side of your bed and hugged you as he kissed the top of your head.

“Happy first Valentine’s Day baby doll.” He told you before leaning down to kiss you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, babe. Are we doing gifts now or later? I can't wait for you to see what I got you.”

“We can do it later. I got up early and made breakfast for you.”

“But someone told me you can't cook.”

“Says who!? Does his name start with Ja and end with Marr?”

“Hmm, I think so.” You replied as you nodded and tried not to laugh.

“I'm about to get his ass for that and yes I can even if I don't do it often.”

“So what is on the menu for this morning?”

“Heart shaped pancakes, bacon since I know how much you're addicted to it and fresh fruit.”

“Are they really shaped like hearts?” You asked as you raised your eyebrow.

“Why don't you come and see for yourself? But first I figured you would want to take a bath and I have the water waiting for you and then you can eat.”

“I seriously do not deserve having you as my boyfriend.” You told him as you sighed.

“Let this be the last time that I ever hear you say that. You deserve everything, especially because you hadn't been treated that well in the past.”

Your eyes instantly welled up with tears and a few of them fell before Joe wiped them away for you.

“I am such a cry baby when I’m on it.”

“You're a cry baby anyway, but I still love you just the same.”

You made a face at him as he smiled at you and pinched your cheek before helping you up so that you could go to the bathroom.

“Meet me in the kitchen when you're done.” Joe told you before leaning down once more to kiss you.

As promised, the day was filled with you and Joe watching your favorite movies and you exchanged gifts after making lasagna, garlic bread, and salad for dinner. As you were sitting there on the couch next to Joe with your new necklace dangling that had his initials on it you glanced over at him to see that he was scrolling on his phone and not paying the movie any attention.

“What are you doing that has you so interested in your phone?” You asked and he looked at you and smirked.

“Your birthday is coming up so I need to start planning.”

“You have plenty of time, there's no rush.” You said as you had now focused back on the tv as Leonardo Dicaprio came onto the screen.

You were making Joe watch Titanic for the millionth time, but he never complained.

“I'd just rather get everything together early and no I'm not telling you because I know that you’re about to ask me. And what do you mean I have time? We have literally three weeks.”

“But…”

“No, and that's my final answer.”

“I'll get it out of you one way or another. And I can also just ask Ja'Marr.” You told him as you crossed your arms and suddenly remembered about your new piercings that you had yet to show him.

“Babe, put your phone down for a second.”

“Hmm?”

“I did a thing two days ago and this was supposed to be a part of your surprise, but now that ship has since sailed, I still wanted to show you.”

“What did you do?”

Turning a little bit more towards him, you had on one of Joe’s t-shirts and simply lifted it up to show him.

Once Joe saw the jewelry that was now decorating your chest, he immediately smirked as he started to play with them.

“Do you like it?”

“You can't tell by my reaction?”

“Well it was Erin's idea and she dragged me. Which I know you aren't surprised by.”

“Definitely remind me to thank her when I see her.”

“She warned me that you would probably say that.”

“Let me ask you something.” Joe said hesitantly, but looked at you seeing that you were giving him your full attention.

“What's that? You gave me your serious voice.”

“We don't actually have to have sex, but I can still make you cum. If you're up for it that is.” Joe asked and he could tell that you were thinking about it.

“By doing what?” You curiously asked, but had a strong feeling about what he was about to suggest.

“How about I just show you instead?” He asked and you nodded your head.

Not being experienced in the sex department, Joe would always ask if you were comfortable doing something beforehand and never pressured you. He wanted you to be comfortable and if anything ever didn't feel right or you changed your mind about something, he wanted you to tell him immediately.

This time was no different as he laid you down on the couch as he hovered above you and tugged on the bottom of his shirt that you were wearing.

“Arms up, take this off.”

Once Joe peeled the shirt off of your body and threw it behind him, his mouth instantly took one of your nipples into his mouth and lightly began to suck on it, making a gasp escape from your mouth.

After switching to the other one, he noticed that you winced slightly and quickly asked you if something was wrong.

“You okay?” He softly asked and you nodded your head.

“They're just a little sore.”

“You want me to stop? Just say the word. Don't want you to be uncomfortable.”

“No, keep going.”

As those words instantly left your mouth, Joe reattached himself to one side while rolling the other in between his fingers making you squirm.

It only took about ten minutes for you to hit your peak as Joe was placing kisses all over your chest as your breathing began to slow down. Once it did, Joe crawled all the way back up your body and placed several kisses on your lips.

“That was just a preview of what's to come on your birthday, but only if you're up for it.”

“I….”

“So that it'll make up for today. But of course, I promise not to do anything you aren't comfortable with.”

“I know, I trust you. And if this was just a preview, what else do I have to look forward to?”

“I'll just let it be a surprise, so you have to be patient.” Joe told you as he thought about the rose vibrator that he just bought to use on you for your birthday.

[httpknjoon]

say goodnight and go | myg

plot | that time when everyone seemed to be doing something on valentine's day and the popstar and her bassist have all the time with their single asses.

w.c | 3.3k

pairing | bass guitarist!yoongi x popstar!reader

genre | enemies to lovers, popstar x bassist, fluff, angst

note | wrote this last-minute today, just something short n sweet for valentines. enjoy!

main masterlist | series masterlist | want to request?

DAY 93: SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA

Your fans from South Korea are one of your most active fanbases, always showering you with praises and support through social media. You even heard one of your songs becoming a trend on their online platforms, with celebrities and big local personalities doing it. So to show appreciation for them, you and your management decided to stay in the country for a longer amount of days.

So far, you have done your back-to-back concerts, variety show appearances, and media interviews, making sure that your fans will get a lot of content. You also got to do some shopping in Myeongdong with Cal and Paul in your first two days in the country since you know how great everyone's skincare products are.

"Are you going out?"

It's your last day before you leave for another country tomorrow. You sat on the nook near the big window of your hotel room, overviewing the busy streets of Seoul, when Cal came in and checked on you.

"I would love to, but I don't like to see couples eating each others' faces on the street." you shuddered in exaggerated disgust, Cal laughed in response.

Tearing your eyes off the scene, you see your assistant all dressed up. From her usual jeans and dark-colored hoodie, she wore and pastel green coat dress and white boots. She also wore white fuzzy gloves, tights, and a scarf for the winter weather outside. Her hair is also styled in soft waves.

"You are so, so pretty." you smiled as she gave you a twirl. "Where are you and your fiance heading?"

She looks up, recalling her agenda for the day, "We're going to Nami Island, I think. I don't really know. Art planned the whole thing."

"Sounds nice."

You tried to smile before looking back to the window. A sense of heaviness sits on your chest as you hug your knees closer to your body, resting your chin on it. The feeling you have been trying to avoid today, Valentine's Day, cannot help but revive itself in your system. But it has been looming over you for a while now, especially in Seoul, where there are a lot of lovely, cute couples everywhere.

"You okay?" Cal asked, sensing your aura shifting.

"I am, I am!" You turned to look at her again, smiling to reassure her. "Now, go on and enjoy that date. We know Art has a low tolerance for waiting."

She chuckled before giving you a quick hug that you know means well. As soon as the door closed, you were back staring outside the glass. You watched the cars move in different directions, and people walked around places. You watched almost twenty-two stories over them, but your mood cannot keep up and remained low ever since you woke up today.

For the first time in years, you are alone in this day of romance. You tried to stay optimistic about it, thinking that you should be grateful you got out of that toxic on-and-off relationship. But man, wouldn't it be nice to be with someone in this cold, cuddly weather outside?

You sighed, combing your fingers through your unstyled hair, before getting up to your bed. You thought of just taking advantage of your free time to rest in the midst of your ongoing world tour.

"I don't think I can bring this with me, Juwon."

Yoongi let out a sheepish chuckle while holding a brown bag of Tupperware filled with kimchi, braised potatoes, lettuce, rice, and marinated uncooked bulgogi. His cousin laughed.

"Not my problem, man. Mom saw one of your videos online and said you looked thinner. She wanted to make sure you're eating a lot, especially now you're in the country."

It has been more than a decade since Yoongi visited his birth country. Unlike his parents who come and go to South Korea yearly, he never got to visit since he moved to LA. When his mother learned that you would be taking your tour to Seoul, she called up every family member to let them know Yoongi was coming. Everyone was delighted to see him after a long time. His grandma even handed him an envelope money, just like when he was a little kid. Yoongi tried to decline it shyly, but his heart warmed when she told him to keep it as it was for all the Lunar New Year he missed.

"She really wanted to see you, but she and Dad are celebrating their anniversary in the UK right now," Juwon told him while they sat in one of the cafes just on the outskirts of Seoul. "She always told everyone how her nephew is a celebrity in the US."

Yoongi laughed, cheeks warming up, "I'm not a celebrity. I'm a bassist for one."

"Eh, it's the same." his cousin shrugged, making both of them laugh. "You know, a lot of YN's fans here think you two are dating."

Yoongi's jaw tenses at the mention of you. Considering that you two are barely talking right now, being tangled in such gossip with you is a little startling for him.

Juwon continued, "Like, I would scroll on social media and I would see edits of you on stage made by your fans here. There are talks about her performances and gimmicks with you on online forums."

Yoongi knows. His father even asked him once about his relationship status with you during the holidays. When he was on his way to the cafe, a young student recognized and asked him if you two are together after asking for a selfie. And he answered the same thing.

"We're not dating. I'm just her bassist."

Juwon seemed to not really care about Yoongi's relationship status with you, just wanting to share the growing popularity of the topic. They went on talking about life and everything big happening to them. Yoongi appreciated his cousin not mentioning his failed engagement or asking him personal questions about you (since that is something other people do). A couple of hours later, Juwon had to go.

"I'm taking the missus out. So, I really should go," he explained, smiling sheepishly.

Yoongi smiled before they shared a quick hug, "Of course. I'll try to visit again after the tour so I can meet everyone."

It was only afternoon and Yoongi was already on his way back to the hotel. Love is everywhere, he can feel, hear, see, and even taste it with how sweet the heart-shaped candies he sees from the street vendors. On the bus, he cannot help but feel outcasted by how everyone comes and goes in two while he sits alone in the farthest seat. He tried not to be a bitter hater about today's event. But how can he be single right now and there are middle-schoolers holding hands in front of him?

He rolled his eyes as he walked past the young couple who was walking too slow for his liking. Just a few distance from the hotel, he stopped when he got a call from someone.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Yoongi. Are you in the hotel right now?" Art, who's on the other line, asked.

Yoongi continued walking, "Yeah, just arrived. Why?"

Today is meant to be their free day before flying to Thailand tomorrow. He recalls any possible reason why the tour manager would call him today.

"Yeah, uhm, can you check on YN? Callie has been trying to contact her, but she's not answering any texts or calls. She just wants to know how she's doing."

His heart dropped, making him pause near the elevators. He has not really talked with you alone these past few days. You two barely had conversations after that little argument the week after the holiday break.

Yoongi scratched his brow, "Uhm, how about Noah or Akio?"

"They are still on their way to visit Busan. Fred is out of town too," he replied.

Knowing there were no other choices, his shoulder slumped like the whole world fell on it, "Okay, I'll check on her."

"Okay, thank you, Yoongi!" Art sighed in relief. Yoongi heard Cal's relief in the background, thanking him too, "Thanks, Yoongi! Please tell her to text me back."

After saying where your room is, the call ended. Why can't you answer the calls? Yoongi tried contacting you himself when he got in the elevator. Although he knows that you might ignore him, he still tries just to avoid knocking on your door again. But you did not answer. So he got to the floor higher than his and immediately looked for your room.

He felt his heart beating faster when he stopped in front of Room 2202. Chewing on his lip, he raised his finger before the doorbell. He wished he had the same determination when he knocked on your door months ago. He held his breath when he clicked it.

But he got no response. It took him three more tries before hearing footsteps inside and by that time, he was more worried than nervous.

"What— Yoongi?"

Instantly recognizing the person who interrupted your movie marathon, your creased forehead softened up as your shoulders slowly tensed down. Yoongi didn't speak immediately, causing you to just stand there while his eyes scanned your face with lines forming between his brows. You felt like shrinking again under his gaze, wondering if other people feel the same way when your bassist looks at them.

"Were you crying?" he asked since he quickly took notice of your tear-stained cheeks, puffy eyes, and lips.

When you look away, Yoongi can read the embarrassment on your face. He thought you looked cute even though you just cried, but still he was worried by what was the reason behind it. But he didn't want to ask, to cross the line like you said that night. So he didn't.

Instead, he cleared his throat, "Art called me. He said you—"

To see you open the door wider as if you are inviting him to come in is a surprise to him. Your eyes meet, communicating with no verbal words in between. But when your sight starts moving from his eyes to his nose then to his lips. Something in your stomach twists. Before anything happened, you spoke, moving your eyes back up.

"Please, just come in. Someone might see us in the hallway."

Always careful. Yoongi stepped in with the same brown bag in his hand. He waited for you to close the door before speaking up again.

"Art called me and he wanted me to check on you. Cal is worried you were not answering her calls."

Your lips gaped as you forgot where your phone was. Since you were left alone hours ago, you spent your time watching rom-com movies, including the one you were just crying about before Yoongi knocked.

"Wait, I'll look for it."

Yoongi watched you rush to your messy bed. He still has not moved from the same spot near the door, like his feet were nailed to the ground. Not less than a minute later, you came back with your phone in hand.

"Just texted her back. I was on DND since last night, I didn't notice," you explained and why were you explaining to him? You don't know.

He didn't say anything and just looked at you blankly. What was to say anyway? You noticed him not really speaking much when you're around. You mean, Yoongi does not really speak a lot, but you observed how quieter he got when the holiday break ended. The eye contact lessened and so did the small bickering you two do in every rehearsal. It feels wrong to annoy you like before again. There are so many times you want to, but you just can't.

You were chewing on your lower lip unconsciously while looking down at the paper bag in his hand, and could not bring yourself to look up. Yoongi silently wondered what was going on inside your creative head.

"What's that?" you broke the silence, referring to the bag.

"Oh... uhm... it's food from my aunt," he replied, lifting the bag. He pulled out one of the Tupperware. "She wanted me to eat more, said I'm getting thinner."

You don't know why, but that made you chuckle. Yoongi smiled upon hearing your little laugh.

"Have you eaten?" he asked, even though it can be a risk over the line you spoke about before.

But instead of reminding him about that stupid line, you replied, "Ice cream is food, right?"

Yoongi clicked his tongue, shaking his head like you were a great disappointment. He pulled out each Tupperware one by one and placed it on the nearby marble counter.

"Have you had these foods before?" he asked and you simply shook your head. "Then, you're going to have them now."

Yoongi didn't care if he crossed that imaginary line because his mom would kill him if he didn't make you eat lunch. Heading to your kitchenette, he looked for a pan and turned on the stove.

"I will just cook the meat. Then, we'll eat this with rice and the side dishes." he explained while putting the meat on the hot surface.

"What... What should I do? Should I help? Do I have to do anything?" you asked, heavily confused.

Yoongi chuckled at your innocent questions, "You can just watch, YN."

And you did while being intrigued and amused at the same time by the unexpected scenario. Just twenty minutes ago, you were crying over Drew Barrymore and Adam Sandler. But now, you have your bassist cooking before you.

Yoongi cooked all of the meat since he could not really bring it with him tomorrow. He will make sure to eat them all if you do not enjoy it anyway. There are no plates in the hotel room, so you two had to improvise and use the lids of the Tupperware as plates. It was also a relief that his aunt included chopsticks in the bag.

He noticed how your eyes lit up as he explained the side dishes, particularly the potatoes. He picked one and placed it on your 'plate'. You hummed as you tasted the sweetness on your tongue.

"I love this. So much better than room service!"

He smiled before getting you some kimchi on your plate too. That's when your expression dropped, he noticed.

"It's kimchi. Don't worry, it's good."

"What does it taste like? And how should I eat it?" you asked, staring at the very red dish.

"It's spicy and sour. It can be sweet too. Depends on who made it. But my aunt always preferred it spicier." he explained before eating some. Yeah, it's spicy. "Do you eat spicy food?"

"I like spicy foods, but this one looks really spicy. It's very red."

He laughed, "It's good. Taste it! You can eat it alone, with rice, or meat. Like this."

Yoongi pulled his chair next to yours, simply to make you a lettuce wrap like in a local Korean barbecue place. He didn't sit too close, but sensing his familiar scent once again made your heart jump as you watched him make you a lettuce wrap.

"Here. Say 'ah'." Yoongi opened his mouth demonstrating.

You tried not to smile, your head messing with you again, as you followed his order. He helped you with the lettuce wrap. Immediately after chewing it, there's a burst of flavor in your mouth. The kimchi is spicy, sour, and maybe a little salty. But you liked it.

Yoongi smiled when he saw you nodding your head, "See? It's great, right? You should really listen to me more."

You glared at him before picking up your chopsticks to eat. Eating in comfortable silence, Yoongi quietly observed how you enjoyed the meal he brought, specifically the kimchi. He was pleased to see you munching on the dishes.

"Slow down on the kimchi." he teased you at one point, but you just scrunched your nose at him.

"I should have added matching couple-shirts in my merch during the concert. I would have earned millions here."

After having your late lunch, you and Yoongi found yourselves in the same nook you were sitting at earlier today. You two sat on each corner, looking down on the noisy and busy city moving below. It felt like the events after the afterparty were forgotten for the meantime as you two chatted about 50 First Dates, the movie you were crying about, and how he preferred The Wedding Singer more. There was a debate for a whole twenty minutes about it and you were sure Yoongi just let you win, so you can move to another topic.

"Yeah, on my way here earlier, every couple who will get on the bus wears the same thing. I looked like a sore thumb." he quipped, earning another laugh from you while you took another bite of kimchi.

The side dish was almost completely consumed by you alone, much to Yoongi's surprise.

"I told you to slow down on the kimchi." he teased you again.

"But it's good. Tell your aunt it's good, send her flowers for me," you suggested.

He scoffed, "Oh, my aunt would love hearing that and will probably send you five more Tupperware of this."

"Well, sign me up. I wouldn't mind having stock." you grinned before taking the last piece of radish.

He shook his head, laughing, "And you finished it all."

You carefully placed the empty Tupperware in front of you, raising both of your hands like you were a suspect caught, "Not guilty at all."

"She would really love you." he chuckled, leaning back on the wall of the nook.

"Well, that just means she has a very great taste." you quipped, looking outside.

Mirroring Yoongi, you rested your back on the wall while still looking outside. In contrast to your full and contented stomach, your heart feels light at someone's unexpected appearance in your hotel room. You were so ready to watch movies all day and maybe call for room service for food. A small smile forms on your lips.

Unbeknownst to you, Yoongi feels the same thing. Mainly, he was happy the food his aunt made did not go to waste and he got to eat it with someone, who obviously enjoyed it. He tried not to chuckle when he saw a spot of the red sauce near your lips. Before he could even stop himself, his thumb gently wiped it off your face.

You held your breath at the sudden touch with your eyes flickering to meet his. He was frozen on the spot, still in the leaned-in position. For a second, the city noise is drawn out. Until he pulled back and you noticed his cheeks have a very slight tint of red.

"Uhm... there was sauce." he mumbled.

"Hmm..." you awkwardly responded looking away.

Silence joined the room again and Yoongi felt like he had gone past the line already. He slapped his head mentally with what he did. The silence reminded him of a scenario that happened at the end of last year. As he feels it getting into him, he gets up.

"I-I should go. We have an early flight tomorrow."

You looked back at him and were always easy to read for him. But, he didn't want to assume that you wanted him to stay based on your eyes alone. But you did, you really did. Maybe for a companion for tonight? You cannot tell, but you enjoyed this casual conversation with him. You can just hope he did too.

"Okay," you replied, almost a whisper.

You watched him gather the Tupperware back into the paper bag, not moving an inch in the nook. You waited for him to look back at you before he leaves, but he was too focused on the fucking Tupperware. So, you just turned your head outside, letting out a sigh.

And just when Yoongi is about to turn the doorknob, he takes one last look at you. His shoulders depleted, seeing you alone while watching the city outside.

"YN?" he called your name and he was unsure if he saw a glimmer of something in your eyes when you turned around. "Good night."

You forced a smile on your lips, "Thank you, Yoongi. Good night."

note | a little preview for the tour's second leg too...

SERIES TAGLIST

kindly check out my taglist rules on my pinned post :)

@busanbby-jjk @jimingirl95 @treacherqus @jajabro @marnz1990 @ktownshizzle @notarshia @m00njinnie @thelilbutifulthings @tarahardcore @livisdoingfine @jungshaking @eridanus-lynx @enthralled-bandit @goodnight-n-go-home @ronyiboniyy @jimeg629 @lveegsoi @madussthoughts

PERMANENT TAGLIST (CLOSED)

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21 @marblemoonstones

[corazondebeskar-reads]

of rage and ruin - chapter ten

chapter ten

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

werewolf!alpha!Joel Miller x f!omega!reader

word count: 5.6k

summary: joel faces his inability to protect you.

chapter warnings: dark, dead dove do not eat, a/b/o, alpha/omega dynamics, omegaverse, captivity, canon-typical violence, genre-typical violence, horror themes, graphic violence, abuse by captors (not by either joel or reader), body horror, viewer discretion is advised, p in v, oral, torture

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Tommy Miller is a changed man. 

Four and a half years of scouring the midwest will do that to someone. 

So will being bitten by a toddler. 

Well. Probably not just any toddler. 

After Tommy had cajoled DJ into sinking his tiny teeth into Tommy’s bicep, Laura hadn’t spoken to him for three months. She refused his company at the door. 

“I have spent years—years, Miller—teaching that boy that he cannot, under any circumstances, bite someone. Do you know how hard it is to convince a toddler not to bite? Do you?” Laura had berated him thoroughly, and shut the door in his face.

She’d forgiven him, after some nudging from Tess, and a couple special deals with Bill for some new shoes for the boys. 

Even so, he’d never felt quite so alone before. There was a pull behind his ribs, an ache that said he could not give up. 

“You really don’t feel any different?” Tess said cautiously, one night when all three adults were lounged on the worn leather couches in Laura’s cottage, passing a bottle of whiskey. 

“Nah,” Tommy says. “Well, I do, but I can’t explain it. But I think I’m getting closer. I’ve got this feeling.” 

Tess crooked a brow at him. “You got me brokering deals across the goddamn half of the country based on a feeling?” 

“Ain’t like you’re getting nothin’ out of it,” he grumbled. 

“I know what you mean,” Laura admitted. “I— when Peter died—” she, with a kindness he feels sick for accepting, doesn’t say 'when you shot my husband.' “I knew.” 

“That’s freaky,” Tess says bluntly. “But alright. I’ll keep pressin’em for info.” 

It was hard, though, to get real information out of anyone, when you can’t explain that the missing person in question may also be an 8-foot-tall fairytale monster. 

There were rumors, though. Most of them turned out about as well as if he were looking for Bigfoot. 

Tess spent less and less time in Boston, taking up Laura’s sofa. Tommy spent less and less time at Joel’s cabin, instead roaming the country for any sign of his brother. Sometimes, Tess would go with him, usually if she had secured a good trade at the same time. 

But there was no sign of Joel.

Joel doesn’t let you out of his sight. He refuses to go out, even when they bring him to the ground with the shock collar. 

“She goes with me,” he snarls. 

Jim throws his hands in the air in frustration. They’ve tried… well, they’ve tried a lot of horrible things. You wish he would just go and stop getting hurt. 

“Joel,” you plead for the nth time. 

“Look at it this way,” Jim leers. “You either go and risk her getting hurt. Or you refuse and guarantee it.”

Joel wolfs out for the nth time, and horribly, you share a look with Cheryl. 

“For fuck’s sake,” she says, finally breaking her uncharacteristic silence. “He wants to bring the girl? Fine. We’ll bring her.” 

Her words are not a comfort. There is no promise of safety. But truth be told, not that you’ll voice it after all this, not that you’d ever disagree with Joel in front of them, but the verdict is a tightening noose. 

To you, the threat is gone. You helped him pick the threat out of his teeth. The two brothers were an anomaly; none of these people have any loyalty to one another. The status quo works right now, but at the slightest tip of the ship, that ends. No one is coming after you because of Mike. 

Joel had furrowed his brows, shaking his head with a glower. “That’s what we thought about Mike. Ain’t riskin’ it, darlin’. And that’s final.”

He hadn’t used his alpha voice, but you had felt compelled to shut up anyway. Maybe it was exhaustion, or maybe it was the way his jaw was set tight. You reached up, one hand against his cheek, thumb brushing his beard. “Okay,” you capitulate. 

He almost bristles at the coddling, but the rigidity leaves him in a heaving sigh, and he allows himself a moment to lean into your gentle touch. His hand covers yours, trapping it there. 

“Atta girl,” he mumbled, drawing your palm to his lips for a kiss. 

Now that it was happening, though? He smells the acrid citrus disinfectant of your fear as it curls into guilt in his lungs.

Not that he can do anything to help. He stands, hands through the bars, as they shackle him. He waits, brow twitching, as they fit the muzzle around his snout. Two of the lackeys push him against the cinder block wall outside your room, twin prongs jabbing against the furry expanse of his chest. It heaves with his heavy pants, eyes darting between his would-be guards and where you’re similarly being bound. 

Jim bitches. Of course he does. He bitches the whole time they begin the march to the surface, to the wild. 

They shove you in the van behind Joel, and he uses his great, hairy body to catch you, huffing and nudging until you manage to sit on his lap. Your hands are bound tight behind your back, tense lines of your body perched precariously, but the only other option is the floor.

The raiders are piled in around you. Well, most of them. Cheryl and her favored lackeys are in a pick-up truck following behind. Jim drives, ruling this operation as he does every other—with rigid, unwavering control. The others trapped with you in the cargo hull have guns or tasers, so clearly uncomfortable with sharing an enclosed tin can with the most dangerous creature they’ve ever known. 

None of them look at you. It’s too careful to be coincidence. He’s made his point. 

The Wolf doesn’t think it’s enough, so he growls every time someone so much as shifts in their seat. 

It speaks to the danger that you don’t even think of making a Little Red Riding Hood or Three Little Pigs joke, though they do come to you later. 

The raid is anticlimactic. The raiders mow down most of the other group. Joel disposes of the rest with neither pomp nor circumstance, just swift swipes of sharp claws. 

They work methodically through the small house, loading the back of the pickup with their spoils. That takes far longer than the slaughter.

“Can I sit down?” you eventually ask Cheryl. Jim’s made her your keeper, since she made the call to drag you along.

“What the fuck do I care?” she snaps, examining a nail under the light of the moon. 

So you sit on the porch and wait, hoping you don’t get a splinter in your ass. 

Later, under the illusion of safety, you nestle into the circle of him, as you had in those earlier days. You tip your head back and bury your fingers in his fur, one hand petting and the other holding tight. He makes a sort of snuffly sound, inquisitive and wary.

“I’m still not scared of you,” you say, splitting the silent night. “I watched you eat a dude. Today was nothing.”

He rolls his eyes but settles back down, head resting on his misshapen arms. 

When you wake, he’s more man than wolf. It’s been that way more and more often, now.

Joel cradles you the way he always does, like a child at the beach whose fistfuls of sand keep retreating with the waves. There’s a tender desperation to it that makes you ache. You can’t take it, pulling yourself close to him with his shoulders beneath your grasp, pressing your lips together as if the sweet sedative of his saliva could fix the rabbity seizing of your heart. 

A twinge near your hip gives you pause, a creeping reminder of something that shouldn’t have been forgotten.

“Hey Joel,” you say slowly, drawing his eyebrows up, “you said the heats are for…” 

He hears the word you can’t force from your mouth. As his fingers continue their steady rhythm, the soothing back-and-forth against your temple, he douses your worry. 

“‘m shootin’ blanks, darlin’,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your neck, not pursuing anything, but luxuriating in the moment.

You shouldn’t laugh, but you snort anyway. “You’re telling me that you’re… fixed ?” you tease. Any self-control you had before doesn’t seem to have survived him. 

He pulls away from his lazy kisses to scowl at you. “Shut up,” he grumbles, though there’s no mistaking the twitch of his lips as you grin. 

“I’m right,” you say, squealing as he nips at your neck in retaliation. 

“Ha ha,” he says, deadpan with a wry twist of his lips. “I get it. Like a dog. You gotta get some new jokes.”

“No, I’m good; these are still funny,” you say, wrapping one hand around the nape of his neck and trying to tug him back to his affections. 

“I’m serious, though,” he says, somehow settling the little bubbles that crept up your throat. “Got snipped a long time ago.” 

It’s an answer that asks questions. You don’t give them a voice. Not why, not when. You’re haunted by the thought of his past. My daughter loved that shit. It’s been weeks since he dropped that little tidbit, and neither of you have dug it back up. He sees the questions blooming in your eyes even as you snip them at the root, and shakes his head, so you follow a safer path of curiosity.

“What about the healing? What if it undid it? That’s a thing, right? Undoing vasectomies?” 

“Thought about that, too. But none of my other scars or injuries from before went away. Why would that?” 

He sounds so casually confident, and you can’t really disagree. “So you’re saying I won myself a sweepstakes from Little Debbie?”

He closes his eyes for a moment before looking skyward. “What’re you on about now?”

“A lifetime supply of creampies,” you say seriously, but it doesn’t hold, and you bury your laughter in his arm. 

“You’re an idiot,” he says flatly, shaking his head. “And those are oatmeal cream pies, you pervert.” 

It just makes you laugh harder. “I’m your little toaster strudel.”

He groans. “Wrong. Icin’ goes on the top of those.”

“Says the man who literally rubbed his jizz over my tits.”

“Alright, time for you to be quiet,” he says, covering your mouth with his hand only to snatch it back when you bite. “Now who’s the fuckin’ dog?” he mutters.

“Aw, giving up?” you say as he rises on his haunches, still looming over you.

“Nope,” he pops the p as his smirk grows. “Got a better way t’shut you up.” 

The thing about him being nude all the time is that you’re hyper-aware of the status of his cock, like, all the time. It’s been half-mast for the last hour, but it’s paying full attention now. 

“Guess I’m just as much of a dog as you. Got me over here like Pavlov.”

“Pavlov was the scientist,” Joel says absently, stroking his cock and scooting closer to where you’re sitting up in anticipation. 

“S’there a way to shut you up?” But you don’t need to ask. You cut off his retort by taking the tip of his cock between your lips and sucking hard. 

His words become a strangled whimper and you pull off with a lewd pop. “Oh yeah,” you say, “like that.” 

Before he can muster up another snarky comment, you take his balls in one hand, rubbing your thumb over them to make his hips jerk a little. His hands don’t stay off you for long, but he doesn’t try to push you around or rush you. 

A sweet kiss to each, and he knows this’ll be over a lot sooner than he’d like. 

But goddamn, will it be worth it.

You groan at the velvety feel of his wrinkled sac, which grows more and more taut as you adorn it with little kitten licks, nuzzling your cheek against it. His oaky bourbon musk has a sharp edge to it that makes you a little dizzy. With a single-minded focus, your hands curl around the backs of his thighs, a soft sigh ruffling the coarse hair. 

You pause to pick one of said hairs from your teeth and go back in for more. 

His hand rests on your head, and he gazes down at you, his eyes dark like the underbelly of a cloud grown heavy with a brewing storm. The wiry tuft of his pubes copies his scruffy beard, though the former is far less salt than salt-and-pepper. The hard line of his cock presses against your cheek, the slip of his foreskin smooth. It leaves a trail behind when you pull away, though you can’t help but lean back in and kiss the rest from the tip. 

He does the unthinkable in that moment.

He steps back.

You look up sharply, catching yourself with an oof. “Wha—” 

He doesn’t even let you finish wondering. He grabs you, both palms smothering your hips, and rolls you onto your stomach. It’s not a display of his brute strength, but instead of the thrall you don’t like to admit to being under. The slightest pressure from his urging has you rolling over.

“Need t’be inside you,” he grunts.

“You were, ” you protest with no protest. 

He shuts you up much more efficiently by the intensity of his grip on your hips as he pushes into you. His impatience finds his cock buried in the depths of your cunt and his teeth buried in the shallows of your shoulder. He rests on his elbows with your upper body trapped between them.

The breath leaves you in a whine, air forced from your lungs under the pressure of his bulk on you. 

“Oh,” is all you can muster. 

He nips at your ear in response, laving his kisses and tongue down your neck, bringing his teeth back up to the line of your jaw. 

It’s so much. You’re overwhelmed by him, by the way something in you sings at the weight pinning you to the cold floor, sweater rucked up about your waist. There’s nowhere to go, nowhere to turn that isn’t Joel, and it’s bliss. White static and the pounding of his hips against your ass consume you. Your gasps and grunts and moans come from somewhere in the distance, not quite underwater, but only because his are rough in your ear, keeping you afloat. 

He runs hot, hotter than any man you’ve lain with before, and it’s not long before sweat slicks between your bodies, dripping down from his brow. You’ve given up all illusion of being an active participant, instead laying your cheek against the cool ground and letting your eyes close. 

The angle is divine. Each rock of his hips grants you the tiniest bit of friction, but it ends up being all you need. He makes you come once, twice, three exhausting times before he allows himself to take what he needs, fucking down into you mercilessly. 

You only get to delight in the sensation of his cock twitching, of the bursts of his cum inside, for a moment before he’s pulling out to spill the rest across your ass. 

When he pulls out, he slides off you to the side, but keeps you pinned with a leg and arm over you. If you weren’t so sated, floating your way down from the exquisite high, you’d roll your eyes. He’s letting it dry; of course he is. 

He nudges you with his nose, and you turn your head to catch his eyes. They’re as tired and pleased as yours, but something cheeky lurks there. He doesn’t make you wait long for it. 

“There," he says with a slap to your ass. "Now You’re a cream pie Toaster Strudel. Happy?” He's deadpan with flat brows and a scowl. 

You laugh, lighter than you’ve been in a long time. It almost sobers you—the realization that you are. You may not be happy with your living conditions and dangerous circumstances. But you’re… you’re happy with him. 

“Oh, you’re a pastry chef now?” You tease before pressing a kiss to his prickly cheek. “Yeah. M’happy.” 

He stiffens at the way your voice goes so soft. So fond. It’s undeniable—the very thing he feared the most coming to full bloom before his eyes. 

But what was he to do? This wretched world that always takes, always, never gives, it had given him you. And he’s too damn selfish to care anymore. There’s the imprint of concern, a triplicate carbon copy—barely indented, barely visible. 

But more than that, it’s a facsimile. It’s the only thing that remains of the cautious voice warning him to keep a distance. To protect you from being hurt. To protect you from himself. 

He can’t protect you from himself anymore. His hold on you turns, tightens like a corset around your ribs, and he watches in disbelief as you simply melt into it. 

No fear. No flight. No fight. Just you, and him, here. Any energy he had earlier is sapped seems to leak out from his sigh, unfurling from the look in his eyes. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have called it fond. 

Joel, though? Joel’d've called it something else. 

The trips outdoors happen weekly. At least, you think so. Not that you know much about the passage of time beyond the phases of the moon. They skip the new moon since the Man isn’t useful. Everything is by-the-book, if there was such an awful thing, until the second full moon. 

The Wolf Moon rises above the glittering snow, and all hell breaks loose in her glow.

The heavy, languid body sits huge on the horizon, commanding control. It’s hypnotic. You can’t really quite look away from the cold yellow, bigger than the sun and twice as potent. 

You don’t even notice that you’ve started to move when she catches you.

Cheryl’s nails make little crescents in your shoulder, her face so close that her hot breath puffs into your ear. It’s an awful sensation, and you want no part of her in or on your body. But here you are, too afraid to do anything but take it. 

“You’re just as mindless as he is,” she says with a breathless laugh. 

You consider protesting, but she beats you to it. 

“He doesn’t even know who he is. He’s got no control. Only obeys his master,” she says. Her fingers curl under your chin, grinding the soft flesh against your teeth as she forces you to look at Jim. 

He’s got a girl by the throat. She can’t be more than fifteen. His gun sits in his hip holster, knife in his pocket. He doesn’t need a weapon. He has the Wolf. 

A man who can’t be anyone but her father is pleading on his knees. You can’t hear anything, don’t know his crimes against Jim. But Jim kicks the man back with a boot against his chest and drops the girl unceremoniously to the ground. 

He snaps his fingers and points. And the wolf lunges, teeth catching in the moonlight. 

You don’t realize you’ve screamed until the whole clearing goes silent. He’s frozen, inches from the girl, but all his attention is on you. 

“Don’t,” you whisper, and he recoils from her, standing on his warped legs and howling. 

“You little bitch,” Cheryl hisses, her fingers dropping your chin in favor of your throat. There’s a fraction of a moment where the world pauses before the cacophony erupts. 

Joel snarls, lunging for Cheryl. Jim hits the shock collar’s trigger. Joel stumbles, falls, and keeps moving. 

It earns him a bullet to the leg. Jim never lets go of the button, and you scream as he convulses, bleeding profusely on the thick patch of grass. 

It’s the last thing you see before everything goes dark. 

When you wake up, you’re in the cage. 

Outside the room. 

Joel paces in front of the barred door, eyes never leaving you. A sigh billows out when he sees that you’re awake. He drops to his knees, reaches, and just barely grabs the bars before he pulls. The metal screeches something awful against the tile, but he can reach you now. 

“Hey,” he urges, voice low and a little wrecked. “Tell me you’re okay. C’mon.”

“I’m okay,” you groan, but make no effort to sit up. You stare up at him, inverted as he is, half-obscured by the bars. “I miss Excedrin.”

He frowns, brows furrowed, but disregards your complaint. “Y’ain’t bleeding,” he says by way of comfort, though more for his benefit. 

“No, just fuckin’... hurts,” you say, closing your eyes against the sickening flicker of the nearly-burnt bulb. 

“That was real stupid,” he says. It lacks real bite, but it’s bloated with something worse than anger. 

“We both lived. And that girl.”

Joel winces and looks away. 

“No,” you say weakly.

“They shot ‘em all,” he says, the gravity of their fate dragging you down. “They never leave anyone alive.” 

“No,” you repeat quietly. His words are the swing of an axe to your sternum. 

He looks away. He’s always known you’re too soft, too good. Somehow free of dried blood under your fingernails all your life. He’s never asked, may never ask, how you ended up here. It’s not the thing to do. 

Nobody talks about before.

“I know that ain’t what you want to hear,” he tries, but it’s disingenuous, placations like packing peanuts in their unwanted staticity and general ineffectiveness. The sound grates in his ears about the same, too.

“Sweetheart, listen t’me. Y’can’t interfere. They brought you here to get me to cooperate. If they think you’re a problem, they’re going to shoot you.”

It’s a sobering truth. “But—“ you whisper. 

Joel isn’t having it. “I told you. I ain’t the man you think I am.” He swallows hard, and something shifts, his eyes gone cold and the set of his jaw hardening into a plaster mask. “I kill people. All the time, darlin’.  Even before I got bit. It’s what a man like me has to do to survive and protect people I—” a pause, a catch in his throat—”my people. Do you understand?”

He hates the way apprehension settles your teeth into the soft bed of your lower lip. The way your gaze is unwavering, though the ache wafts like citronella, as if that could keep him at bay. 

“I said, do you understand?” He repeats firmly. His words aren’t harsh, but they cut anyway. His hands on the bars rattle you a little, as if your dizzy brain needs more centrifugal motion. 

“I don’t want to,” you hear yourself say as if underwater. You’ve never heard yourself sound quite so small. 

“Goddamnit,” he growls, dropping his hands from you and rising to his feet in one smooth motion. “Goddamnit, can’t you see I’m tryin’? For fucks sake, just shut your eyes and don’t watch if that’s what you gotta do. But if you pull a stunt like that again, I can’t protect you. They will kill you.”

You draw your knees to your chest, tucked up against the corner. “I—I just—“

“You just nothing,” he snaps. “You need to listen t’me. Do what you’re told so I can keep you safe. Don’t you understand? Don’t you get it? I am not gonna let you get yourself killed because you can’t stomach what has to be done.”

Your throat closes, eyes squeezed shut tight. 

He heaves a loud, grating sigh and covers his face with both hands, head tipping back. 

A minute drags into five, and the only sound in the cell is your matching measured breaths. The thrum of his heartbeat from across the room. The silence fills with the buzz of your brain seeping out to your ears, the crackle of tinnitus, and just when you think you’re going to crack, he moves. 

Joel crouches in front of you. “Hey,” he says gruffly, but with less bite. “Look at me,” he coaxes gently. 

You want to bristle at being treated like a skittish horse, but instead, you acquiesce, taking in the lumbering shadow of him. You swallow hard, your heart lodged in your throat like gravel. 

 He sighs again, and closes his eyes for a moment before looking at you. Really, really looking. And he doesn’t like what he sees. As if your scent didn’t give it away. It’s different, somehow, seeing the fear stiffen your shoulders and pull you back from him like a hooked fish. 

“It can’t be any other way,” he says. “I’m… I’m a bad man, a shitty person, and that’s mine to bear. I can’t shield you from it. I tried.” His voice croaks a little on the tail end. “And…” he makes sure you’re looking at him still, his hand slipping between the bars, catching your chin. His thumb brushes your lip as if he can rub the bite marks out. “And I ain’t sorry. Not if it keeps us alive.”

It’s strange, the way his words turn you inside out, and his touch puts you back. But you’re properly distracted from reading too much into it by footsteps clomping down the stairs. 

The cage turns out to have been for dramatics. A red-headed man you’ve not seen before has shown up to haul you from it and dump you back in the room across the hall. 

This time, Joel is quiet. He wants to snarl, to yell, to threaten. But he bites his tongue and lets it happen. It’s this or a bullet in your skull.

Instead, he paces the cell, near-sleepless. You can hear him at all hours of the day, the padding of his bare feet akin to the beat of his heart that usually lulls you to sleep. It’s a poor substitute, but you’ve learned to accept scraps. 

They keep up their end of the bargain, though, and ten days later, they pull you from the locker room to ride along on the latest outing. This time, though, you’re stuck in the truck with Cheryl. 

She turns sideways to regard you down the petite line of her nose. “Do I need to gag you?” 

The question is drawled lazily, but her hand holding the switchblade as she cleans under her nails is anything but. The knife catches in the moonlight, the silver gleam a steady promise. 

“No,” you mumble. 

Nothing happens. She locks you in the truck, still bound. Sure, you might be able to reach the locks, but getting the door open is another story. And surely you’d fall on your face in the mud. 

 For a moment, Joel protests, but gives in. You’re safe in the truck, and he can still see you, still smell you, still hear your heart pulse through his eardrums as if it were his own. 

You don’t watch, but you have to listen. 

Nobody pays you any mind, which means you risk peeking into the bed of the truck. There are the expected supplies—rope, tools, and old sheets. But more importantly, much more importantly, a line of filled backpacks are tucked against the cab. Go bags. They have to be. There’s a bedroll on each, and you’d bet your sweater they’re full of supplies. 

Oh, Jesus. Has your life really come to that? The only meaningful thing you have to wager against yourself is a sweater? 

Fuck. 

The bags live in the back of your mind, scurried away with the tidbits you’re collecting and trying to sweep into a pile vaguely resembling a plan. 

It’s not going great, because Joel isn’t cooperating. 

“You have to eat,” you plead. 

His hands grip your shoulders, seizing onto you like it’ll make any damn difference. “I can't fucking take it anymore. Can't fuckin' sit by letting it happen,” he hisses. 

“Joel,” you murmur, bringing your hands up to cup his warm, scruffy face. “Please. When the time is right, we’ll stop. But for now, please.”

He crumples, as he always does when you beg so sweetly. And he has to admit you’re right. This is not the way. There will be a time, but the new moon isn’t it. He can’t put you in danger by being weaker than ever. 

He heaves a sigh and picks up a flank, rending the meat from the bone like he’s sectioning an orange. It should be disgusting, watching him eat raw, bloody flesh. 

It should be. 

Right? 

You’re not sure anymore.

You’ve never been one for gratuitous displays of strength, but this… isn’t that. This is primal. It stirs behind your sternum, a possessive rumble that has him look up at you with an eyebrow raised. You shake your head and scrub at your face with both hands until it settles. 

He gives a huff of approval, and then, capitulating to his belly that seemed to respond in kind to your growl, he shifts and does his magic trick, turning a huge stack of meat into a bloody tray.  

When he stalks over to you after, he raises one thick, sharp-tipped finger in your face. “Don’t say it,” he warns.

You stifle a laugh. “Don’t say what?” you ask, all fluttering lashes and saccharine innocence.

“Don’t,” he says, but the sternness of his voice falters.

“Don’t ask if you’re ready for dessert?” 

He groans, head dropping to your shoulder before sitting back on his haunches. “You’re not a very good listener,” he says. “Maybe we’ll skip dessert.” His eyes roll.

“What? No,” you say.

“Bad girls don’t get rewards,” he says, and to your mortification, you burn and squirm where he has you pinned with his hips. 

He chuckles. “Aw, ya gonna pout now?”

“C’mon,” you whine. “It was just a joke. You wouldn’t be that mean.”

“I’m fixin’ to leave you high n’ dry.”

“ Joooooel,” you whine, and fix him with your best pleading eyes. “You’re not gonna take care of me?”

He twitches. “That ain’t fair.”

“But alpha—”

He cuts you off with a growl, yanking you by the hips and diving in. He holds you to the mattress with ease as you squirm and savor each stroke of his tongue, and doesn’t let go until he’s had his fill.

The days trickle, but it’s harder to abide them. You had taken this tentative peace for granted, before, unable—or perhaps unwilling—to see the veil. It’s still there, now, but you’re hyperaware of the shroud.

Gone are the lazy days of lounging and fucking and sucking. Gone are the luxurious cat-naps (dog-naps? wolf-naps? freak-of-nature-naps?), and you struggle to remember that you’re supposed to be figuring out a plan.

Joel doesn’t forget, though. Despite your argument, he’s eating less and less. He can’t stand the haze, can’t stand the complacency that stole nearly five years of his life. 

At night, he broods and schemes. 

“Next time, I want you to run,” he says. 

“We’re not ready.”

“We’re gonna get you ready.”

You sit up in the darkness, your eyes as sharp as in the sunlight. “I’m not going without you.” 

He growls. “Darlin’, you ain’t got a choice. You hear me? You get a chance? Take it. Swear to me.”

“I’m not leaving without you.”

He shakes you a little roughly. “You will if you have to. Understand me? Swear it, omega.”

He knows you’re pissed. And maybe you’ll never forgive him, never trust him again after he’s done what he swore he’d never do. But you’ll be free.  

“Yes, alpha, ” you grit out, teeth creaking with the strength of your clenched jaw. Your hands ball into fists, but there’s nowhere to direct your anger. 

His mouth drags blunt teeth down your neck, and you snarl. He’s reminded just how much you’ve changed. How every day with him turns you more and more into the animal he makes you. 

How much his bite has cost you. 

“Tell me again,” he says gruffly as you give in to the insistent pressure of his claim and relax against him. He hates it, hates doing this to you when he knows on the inside you’re frothing and raging and burning. 

But he holds you to him with that same fire and makes you repeat it. Over and over. Coordinates he could say in his sleep. The location of the key, the way to jimmy the back window loose if it’s gone. 

And the name. Tommy. Tommy. Tommy. 

Find Tommy. 

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

This was just a test run. An experiment to see if your newly-cleared brains (and viciously empty stomachs) welcomed back your sharp senses and survival skills. It wasn’t supposed to be the run. 

You’re not ready. You have no supplies, no direction, no plan. 

But it’s happening. It’s your chance, and you must take it. You hesitate long enough that the Wolf tips his head back and howls, urging you, and even though he speaks no words, your body must listen.

There’s no command, no compulsion. No, the howl is worse because it’s a plea. 

You must run.

So you do. 

Your heart pounds in sync with the beats of your bare feet against the forest floor. You don’t know where you’re going. You don’t know where you’ve been. The world blurs, not because you’re going fast enough but because of the unbidden tears pricking at your eyes, the pulse of fear and foreboding familiar. 

Crack. Bark shatters to your right. 

Crack. Dirt upturned inches from your left foot. 

Crack. A yelp. 

No. No. 

They wouldn’t. They need him. 

It becomes your mantra. 

Each thud of your foot against the rotting leaves and hard-packed soil pounds with it. They wouldn’t. They need him. They wouldn’t. They need him. 

The bullets stop; there’s no pursuit. You’re disposable. 

Find Tommy. 

Everything narrows to your path. To your feet and the way they carry you in turn, away from the angry yelling and howling and screams. Away from your prison and its guards. Away from your alpha— no. You can’t think like that. You’ll see him again.

You will.

Right?

dearest beloved readers, our story is coming to an end soon. it may be 2-3 more chapters including an epilogue. this particular chapter is one i'm v nervous about sharing since it's been our destination from the start. pls be niceys to me and i love you all, thank you so so much for reading.

[cecilysass]

Happy Heart (-Shaped Hail) Day! Fic Recs for Rain King for Valentine's Day (or Any Time)

It's funny how in the fandom circles I tend to spend time in now, Rain King seems to be a pretty beloved episode: super shippy, romantic comedy, multiple fanfic tropes made canon.

When it aired, the online fandom's opinion of this episode was pretty mixed. There was a large contingent of fans who really hated it. (I remember this because I am 4,000 years old.) Season 6 had already been perceived as being too light in tone, and we'd already come off of a run of Triangle, Dreamland I and II, and How the Ghosts Stole Christmas. There was a lot of anxiety about the move to LA killing the show's dark and angsty feel.

Me, I always liked Rain King (and Triangle, and Dreamland I and II, and How the Ghosts Stole Christmas). And while I can identify the tone change in season 6, I don't hate it, nor do I think that the show really loses its darkness and angstiness (a lot comes back in the second half of the season). I'm also not someone who believes comedy is a de facto more stupid or less substantial genre than drama or suspense, so I think that's part of it.

Rain King has generated so, so much fanfic, and most specifically fanfic that zeroes in on this little fun fact: THEY CANONICALLY SHARE A MOTEL ROOM BECAUSE THERE'S ONLY ONE ROOM. Obviously many of the fics I'm recommending below are based on that premise. So here are my Valentine's Day recs based on Rain King. (Even though I think it's not actually set at Valentine's? Because the cold open happens months earlier? There's some kind of timeline hijinks, idk.) But anyway, it's the clearest Valentine's episode we have, so happy Valentine's Day.

Free Merlot at the Cool View Motor Court by Sarie_Fairy @sarie-fairy Scully tries a little experiment with Mulder after the reunion that gets rapidly out of hand. This is smutty fun—the kind of high end sexy times this author is really known for. Dating Kings and Queens - Baroness_Blixen @baronessblixen A pure romantic comedy style plot variation on the ending of Rain King. The agents discuss the last time they've been on a date. Turns out it HASN’T been so long for Scully. This is just so charming. 

Kroner by DM When Mulder finds out about the “flicked switch speech,” he deals with it in a flirty, somewhat less sentimental way that feels very in character to me. I like a fic with dialogue that feels like it goes a little unexpected.

No Big Deal by dreamingofscully @dreamingofscully Scully offers to help Mulder sleep in the hotel. This is UST, but deliiiiiiightfully so, and heavy on the complex feelings.

Can’t Fight This Feeling by mldrgrl  @mldrgrl A sweet and more subtle little feelings reveal after Rain King by an author who does this exact thing well. Also there is slow dancing to 80s music.

Time Enough At Last - baylorrific Absolute textbook classic one room trope, but it stands out for me because I like how it focuses on their mutual discomfort. They’re both so awkward here, even though it’s Mulder POV. I also like how the classic Twilight Zone episode Time Enough At Last is in conversation with what’s happening with the MSR.

There’s No Place Like Kroner - MonikaFileFan @monikafilefan You know what would make a “there’s only one room” Rain King fic extra fun? DIANA. Okay, okay, I admit I wrote this prompt for the exchange, lol, so of course I think it sounds fun. But Monika wrote the actual fic, and you don’t want to miss it.

Pillow Talk - Alelou This is a short piece about a chatty Mulder very carefully putting out feelers in the motel room after the reunion. Sweet and in character.

Land That I Heard Of Once in A Lullabye - leiascully @leiascully In Kroner’s tiny airport, Scully takes stock of where they’ve come from and where they’re going. I love this. It feels especially spot on character-wise for season 6.

All that Lights Upon Us - wonderland @amplifyme This is a very different kind of Rain King fic, part of a series, although it can be read alone. During the events of Rain King they share a first kiss, but this fic is about their conversations afterwards (Mulder and Scully, as well as Mulder and Maggie). Gentle affection, and the process of taking little steps towards one another.

On the Flicking of Switches - SisterSpooky1013 @sisterspooky1013 Mulder initiates an awkward conversation in the motel room after the reunion. SisterSpooky1013 always has her characterization shit together, but I think this is an especially compelling character sketch of season 6 Scully.

Break in the Weather - ATTHS_TWICE @atths--twice Mulder and Scully can’t fly out another night in Kroner, so they kill time by going to a drive-in movie. Honestly, this is just adorable.

Still Raining - Donna When Sheila sends them both a letter a few months later, she alludes to what Scully told her in the bathroom. This raises questions for Mulder.

Stop Me - Gina Rain A little seduction by Mulder in the Kroner motel room. It starts with her feet, if that’s your thing. But it’s not exclusively about feet, if that isn’t lol.

They're SOOOOO MANY great Rain King fics, so drop any I missed in the comments! And if you want to read my Valentine's Day recs last year based on Milagro, they're here.

[yukioos]

DID I TELL U THAT I MISS U

SUMMARY: megumi fushiguro x reader // you tease and patch up your boyfriend, megumi, after he gets into a fight when trying to take a cursed object from a high school boy.

WARNINGS: not proofread, blood, reader n megumi are in a relationship

AUTHORS NOTE: hi guys! sorry i had super bad writers block. im still gonna try and continue my in-ho x reader series btw! i’ll start taking requests for satoru, yuji, and megumi btw! thank you for 700 followers ❤️ this has 0.7k words

you laid in your bedroom, plush chest against the bedsheets as you read a book. every now and then you would flip a page and rake your eyes over the words, but someone still lingered in the back of your mind.

megumi.

gojo sent him to take a cursed object, ryomen sukuna’s finger, from a high school boy. most of the time, missions were easy for him, but he didn’t come back in a few hours. what worried you even more was when gojo knocked on your door and told you he was going to go get some food. however, you could tell something was off.

he wasn’t as humorous, he seemed stiff and averting his gaze everywhere beside you. you cautiously asked him if everything was okay, and of course, he unhesitatingly nodded and grinned. after a little conversation, he walked away. there was a little, unnoticeable tug on your heart that made you finally place down your book and take a moment to yourself.

that one moment turned into a nap.

your eyes widened and shot to the door, where you heard two pairs of feet thumping along the wood. two familiar voices spoke, and you quickly jumped out of bed and trotted to the door. you slowly opened it and peeked your head out, seeing megumi’s pale skin stained with blood, and gojo carrying a pink-haired boy.

you stared at the dark red liquid dripping down his face and onto his uniform, but your teacher greeted, “ah! y/n, great to see you again! we gotcha some mochi, his idea, of course.” he wrapped an arm around the shorter boy’s shoulders, causing him to roll his eyes. he was just trying to help his student ‘flirt’ with a girl who megumi was already in a relationship with. gojo still had itadori slung over his shoulder. he gave the mochi to his student and continued, “anyway, i have to deal with this kid. i’ll give you two some alone time.”

he grinned and bumped his elbow into megumi’s and smirked. the younger boy grumbled and balled his fists up, staying silent and frowning until his teacher walked away. he finally glanced at your worried expression and held the bag out for you. you politely and quietly thanked him but paused.

“we should get you cleaned up, honey, you don’t look too good.” you gently rubbed his now scarred face with care and love, trying to wipe off some blood. he averted his gaze but his face suddenly began to feel hot, and he tried to hide his pink cheeks with the neck of his uniform. you walked to the infirmary and opened a door, then sat him down on a bed.

you slightly grinned at how he looked everywhere but you, feeling a bit intimidated. you complimented, “i’ve never seen someone look good even when blood’s dripping down their face, guess that’s changed though, huh? you still look pretty cute, don’t you agree?” beginning to wipe away the blood, you then disinfected the wounds, put ointment on them, then bandaged them.

he scoffed and stared at the ground, huffed then grumbled. damn, he was moody. however, the pink tint still peeked out from where he was trying to hide his face.

as you placed your hand on his cheek, he finally glanced back at your eyes. you kissed him on both cheeks then pushed your lips on one another, smiling into the intimate action. once you pulled away, his dark eyes gazed into yours, saying everything that he wanted to say but couldn’t. megumi wasn’t a man of words, as he told you when you first got into a relationship. he was confident, he knew his worth but just didn’t feel the need to say much, only when a hundred percent necessary.

but of course, he still tries to respond the best he can when you ask him a question.

“why’d you take so long retrieving ryomen sukuna’s finger from that high school?”

[lvrgurlblobbu]

day well spent

college!zayne x fem reader

⤿CW: pure fluff

⤿word count: 3.6k

⤿a/n: hello lovelies! this is supposed to be a valentines treat but i got busy with college stuffs so it was kinda delayed. enjoy reading :))

⤿fifth part of code love series | previous part. > next.

ao3.

It’s been four weeks since Zayne officially began courting you. The day after that, he insisted on meeting your sister to ask for her approval as well. Although you assured him that it wasn’t necessary and that your sister would have no objections, he remained firm in his decision. He explained that his parents raised him to seek the permission of those closest to the person he’s courting, and he wanted to honor that tradition.

You also asked him if his parents knew that he was courting you. He smiled and admitted that he always mentioned you whenever he spoke with them. He explained that both of his parents are doctors, and their work often takes them out of the city—or even out of the country—for medical missions. Despite their busy schedules, they always make time to catch up, and you’ve become a frequent topic of conversation.

“Really? You talk about me often?” You asked him, you’re currently sitting at the lounge area of his department’s building as you decided to visit him before you go home.

Zayne’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he didn’t look away. “Yeah, I do,” he admitted, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “I tell them how smart and funny you are… and how being around you makes my day better.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his sincerity.“What do they say about that?” you asked, trying to sound casual despite the warmth rising to your cheeks.

He chuckled, leaning back against the couch. “They’re curious about you now. They want to meet the person who keeps making their son smile like an idiot during phone calls.”

You laughed, the image of Zayne grinning goofily while talking to his parents popping into your head. “Well, I hope I make a good impression when that day comes.

Zayne’s expression softened even more. “You already have,” he said quietly. “Even without meeting you, they’re glad I found someone who makes me happy.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the unspoken feelings hanging in the air. But the comfortable silence was enough. You realized that Zayne wasn’t just courting you; he was already including you in his world, and that meant more than words could express.

You glanced at the time and sighed. “I should get going,” you said, standing up reluctantly.

He stood up with you, his gaze lingering a bit longer before he spoke. “Let me walk you to the bus stop.”

“But what about your next class?” You asked him as he slung your bag on his shoulder.

“It’ll be fine, and I want to make sure you’ll be safe.” He smiled, his eyes warm with reassurance. “Shall we?” He offered his hand, palm open and inviting.

You couldn’t help but smile back, a flutter of comfort settling in your chest. Without a word, you placed your hand above his, feeling the gentle strength in his grip. As you walked side by side, his hand naturally found its place on your lower back, guiding you with a subtle protectiveness that made you feel cherished.

The evening air was cool, a soft breeze rustling through the trees as the sky faded into shades of gold and pink. You could hear the distant hum of the city, but here, in this moment, everything felt quieter—almost like the world had slowed down just for the two of you.

His thumb drew small, absentminded circles against your back, a gesture so subtle yet so grounding. You glanced up at him, catching the way his lips curved into a gentle smile, his gaze fixed forward but clearly aware of every step you took together.

It was as if his presence built a safe haven around you, a place where nothing could reach you but the warmth radiating from his touch. You leaned a little closer, your shoulders brushing, and for a second, you wondered if he could hear the rhythm of your heartbeat matching the steady pace of your footsteps.

Neither of you spoke, but in the comfortable silence, so much was said.

***

A few weeks later, today is Valentine’s day which is also your University’s Foundation Week. Classes were canceled for two weeks to celebrate and there were booths and stalls all over your campus grounds.

You and Zayne agreed to meet at campus, just by the old oak tree near the main entrance. The area was bustling with students, laughter, and music blending into the festive air. As you approached, you spotted him leaning against the tree, his hands tucked in his pockets, a relaxed smile spreading across his face as his eyes found yours.

“Hey,” he called out, pushing off the tree to meet you halfway. “You look… really nice.” His gaze lingered, a subtle warmth coloring his cheeks.

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling a shy smile creep onto your lips. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

He laughed, the sound easy and genuine. “Shall we?” You nodded at him as you intertwined your fingers with his as he led the way inside your campus, guiding you through the crowd. His grip on your hand tightened as you entered, making sure that you won’t get lost.

As you passed by booths filled with games, merch, and food stalls, you noticed how his eyes sparkled upon seeing variety of sweets in the stalls. Zayne glanced at you and his smile is evident and it made your heart flutter.

“I heard their churros are the best, do you want to try?” He asked.

“Of course!” You replied, he smiled at you once again before leading the way. Luckily, the line isn’t as long as you anticipated when you reached the food stall which sells churros and a few other sweets.

You stood beside Zayne, he ordered churros which is good for two persons, two pieces of potato tornados and a milkshake. It hasn’t been long when your orders were now served, you and Zayne decided to sit at the bench underneath a tree to eat your foods.

With a potato tornado in your hand and churros in his, your drinks sat on the bench beside you. Zayne held out a wooden fork, eyeing the cinnamon-sugar-coated churros carefully. Using his hand as a fan, he made sure they were cooled off before taking a piece.

Once he was certain it was safe to eat, he held the churro out to you, his eyes warm with a playful smile. “Here, try it. It’s better when shared.”

You smiled at him before eating the churro, your eyes went wide as you chewed on it. “It tastes amazing,” you said and he chuckled in response before he took a bite of the churros.

“Here, try this as well,” you said, offering him the potato tornado. You used your other hand as a shield to catch any stray cheese powder, making sure it wouldn’t fall directly on his clothes.

Zayne leaned in, taking a bite with a delighted grin, “Mhm, that’s really good.” He said before he took another bite which made you chuckle because there were a few remnants of cheese powder on his cheeks.

“You look silly,” you giggled as you reached for your handkerchief to wipe the powder off his face. He just shook his head as he grabbed another churro and as if you acted on instinct, you leaned in to take the bite from him.

As you were busy munching, you suddenly heard a click. Confused, you glanced over at Zayne, only to find him grinning mischievously, his phone held up in front of him.

“Did you just… take a picture of me?” you asked, your eyes narrowing playfully.

He shrugged, completely unapologetic. “You just looked too cute not to.” He turned the screen to show you the candid shot—your cheeks puffed out as you chewed, eyes wide with surprise.

Your face heated up instantly. “Zayne! Delete that!”

He laughed, tucking his phone away before you could snatch it. “Nope. This one’s a keeper.”

You crossed your arms, pretending to be annoyed. “You’re impossible.”

He leaned in, his voice low and teasing. “If it makes you feel better, it’s now my favorite photo.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the playful annoyance melting into a shy smile. “You’re such an idiot,” you mumbled, but your tone was light, your chest fluttering at the way he looked at you.

“Maybe,” he agreed, his eyes twinkling. “But at least I made you smile.”

And just like that, you realized he was right. You were smiling—unable to stop, even if you tried.

***

After a few giggles and pictures snapped together, you and Zayne strolled once more. What caught your attention was the photobooth tucked in the corner, its vintage design adorned with flashing lights that seemed to beckon you both closer.

Zayne noticed your gaze and grinned, his playful energy impossible to resist. “Zayne.” You called, but as you looked at him, his gaze was already fixed on you. With a smile, you tugged him toward the photobooth, its neon lights reflecting in his eyes.

He let himself be pulled, laughing as you both stumbled inside the tiny space. It was a tight fit, your shoulders pressed together, knees bumping as you tried to get comfortable. The screen lit up, giving you barely any time before the first countdown began.

For your first shot, you and Zayne’s faces were near to each other. You held out two of your fingers poking your cheek as you pouted at the camera. Zayne on the other hand poked leaned closer as he poked his finger on his right cheek.

As soon as the second countdown began, Zayne wrapped his left arm around your shoulder as he pulled you closer to him. Both of you make a peace sign with visible smiles on your faces.

“Okay, quick! What should our next pose be?” you giggled as the last countdown began. You tilted your head to face him, only to find him looking down at you with a wide smile that made his dimples pop. You couldn’t help but lean in closer, your noses gently touching. Lost in the moment, neither of you noticed when the camera clicked, capturing the third shot.

The photo strip printed two copies with a mechanical whir, sliding out as you both tumbled out of the booth, laughing and breathless. Zayne grabbed the strip, his eyes widening as he saw the progression—silly faces, pure laughter, and finally, that close, almost-kiss that left your heart pounding.

“Let me take a look.” You said as you unconsciously intertwined your fingers with his as he gave you the other copy. “Oh, I love how these turned out.”

As you were busy admiring the photo, Zayne’s gaze remained on you. There was a softness in his eyes, his smile lingering as he watched the way your face lit up. The way you laughed at the silly faces, how your fingers gently traced over the last photo—the one where you were so close, your faces barely an inch apart.

He swallowed, his heart thudding as he replayed that moment in his head. It had felt so natural, so right, even if he hadn’t expected it. He opened his mouth, the words forming before he could stop them. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Your head snapped up, eyes wide in surprise. “What?”

His cheeks flushed, but he didn’t look away. “I mean… the way you’re smiling. It’s… nice.” He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly shy. “Makes the photos look even better.”

You noticed his flushed reaction— how his cheeks and ears turned red, the way he nervously ran his hand through his hair and how he couldn’t even dare to look straight into your eyes.

“Zayne… are you blushing?” you teased, leaning in to get a better look. His eyes widened, and his cheeks grew even redder as he quickly averted his gaze.

“N-No, I’m not!” he protested, his voice higher than usual. He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes. “It’s just… warm out here.”

You let out a small giggle, watching him squirm. “Right. Must be that blazing eighty-degree weather,” you teased, glancing up at the clear, breezy sky. You were about to tease him more, but then you heard two familiar voices calling out for the both of you.

As you turned your head, you saw Tara and Simone running towards your direction, their faces lit up with excitement. You smiled, waving as they skidded to a stop in front of you, slightly out of breath.

“There you two are!” Tara exclaimed, hands on her hips as she caught her breath. “We’ve been looking all over for you!”

Simone’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as she looked between you and Zayne, her gaze dropping to your intertwined fingers. A sly grin spread across her face. “Well, well, what did we miss?”

You felt your face heat up, and instinctively, you tried to pull your hand away, but Zayne held on firmly, his own cheeks tinged pink. “Nothing much,” he said, his tone casual despite the way his thumb was gently stroking the back of your hand. “Just taking some photos.”

Tara’s eyes widened, immediately zeroing in on the photo booth behind you. “Oh! Did you guys take one of those cute photo strips?”

You and Zayne both looked at each other before nodding gently. Tara groaned dramatically. “Oh, come on! Show us!”

Zayne smirked, patting his pocket. “Sorry, but these are classified. For our eyes only.”

Simone looked at you, her expression pleading. “You’re really not going to share?”

You shook your head, laughing. “Nope. But trust me, they turned out great.”

Tara crossed her arms, pretending to pout. “Fine. But you owe us details later.” She paused, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “And I expect all the details.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to act nonchalant even as your heart raced. “We’ll see about that.”

Simone linked her arm through yours, already steering you away. “Come on, then! We were just about to grab some snacks. You two lovebirds joining us or what?”

You glanced at Zayne, who still hadn’t let go of your hand. His smile was soft, his eyes warm as he gave your fingers a gentle squeeze. “Yeah,” he answered, his voice steady. “We’re coming.”

Together, the four of you walked off, laughter echoing as the teasing continued. And though the photo strip remained tucked away, the memory of that almost-kiss—and everything it meant—was impossible to hide.

***

As the sun had already set, the sky painted in shades of deep purple and navy, Zayne offered you a ride home. Of course, you didn’t refuse, the idea of spending a little more time with him too tempting to pass up.

The car ride was comfortable, the faint hum of the engine blending with the soft music playing from the radio. Streetlights cast a warm glow through the windows, illuminating his face in fleeting intervals. You couldn’t help but steal a glance now and then, admiring the way his jaw tightened as he focused on the road, his hands relaxed on the steering wheel.

“You know,” he began, breaking the silence, “today was… pretty great.” His voice was casual, but there was a tenderness there, a vulnerability you weren’t used to hearing from him.

You smiled, leaning back against the seat. “Yeah, it really was.“

The rest of the drive was filled with light conversation and laughter, the kind that felt easy and effortless. Before long, he was pulling up in front of your house, the porch light casting a warm glow across the yard.

Zayne put the car in park but didn’t make any move to leave. Instead, he turned to you, his expression softer now. “Hey… thanks for today. Really.”

You looked at him, your chest tightening at the sincerity in his voice. “No… thank you. I had an amazing time.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the air between you charged with anticipation. Zayne’s eyes flicked down to your lips, his jaw tightening slightly as if he was debating something.

“Oh, before I forgot—“ He muttered as he unclasped his seatbelt to grab something from the backseat. To your surprise he’s already holding a beautifully arranged bouquet of flowers wrapped in white paper and tied with a light blue ribbon. The bouquet features a delicate mix of white and pale blue blooms, including roses and small, airy flowers resembling baby’s breath.

“Zayne-“ your breath hitched as he gave the bouquet to you.

“I inserted something in there.” He said, then you noticed a piece of paper tucked underneath the flowers. You placed the bouquet in your lap as you began to unfold the paper.

Your heart began to race as you saw a beautiful sketch of yourself. The lines were delicate, capturing every detail with surprising accuracy—the curve of your smile, the sparkle in your eyes, even the way your hair fell around your face. It was breathtaking, almost surreal, to see yourself through someone else’s eyes.

You looked up, your gaze locking with Zayne’s. He was watching you intently, his expression soft, almost vulnerable. “Do you… like it?” he asked, his voice hesitant, as if he was unsure of himself for once.

A lump formed in your throat, emotions swirling as you looked back at the sketch. “Zayne… this is incredible. I… I didn’t even know you could draw.”

He let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well… it’s just a hobby. I don’t show my drawings to many people.” His eyes softened as he continued, “But… I wanted you to see this one.”

Your heart skipped a beat, warmth flooding your chest as you realized the effort and thought he’d put into this. “You drew this… for me?”

He looked away, his cheeks tinged pink. “Yeah. I… couldn’t get you out of my head, so… this happened.” He glanced back at you, his gaze intense. “I wanted to capture the way you looked that day at the park…when you were laughing.”

Your breath caught, the memory flashing in your mind—the two of you strolling at the park, your face lit up with laughter, Zayne watching you with that same look in his eyes. “You… remembered that?”

“Of course I did,” he said softly. “I remember everything about you.”

Emotion tightened your throat, and you blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. You reached out, your fingers brushing over the paper delicately, as if afraid you’d smudge the beautiful lines. “I love it. I really do.”

His shoulders relaxed, relief washing over his face. “I’m glad.”

You looked at him, your heart full. “Thank you, Zayne. This… this means more to me than you know.”

His eyes softened, his voice a gentle whisper. “You mean more to me than you know.”

Your breath hitched, your heart racing once more. But this time, it wasn’t because of the sketch—it was because of him. The both of you stared at each other for a few moments before you broke the silence.

“It’s already getting late, I’ll head inside so you can go home.” You said as you folded the paper and tucked it back underneath the flowers. “Thank you for today Zayne, for keeping me company during the University fair, and for these gifts. I had so much fun.”

“It is my pleasure and I could say that as well.” He smiled at you, “Thank you [Name].”

The both of you settled in a comfortable silence. You stared at his hazel-green eyes as you thought of something cheeky. So, you leaned your face closer and gave him a kiss on his cheek. “Be safe, goodnight.”

You giggled at his expression when he was suddenly caught off guard by your sudden kiss. You immediately gathered your things before opening the car door and ran inside your house, not even bothering to steal another glance at Zayne because you could already feel your cheeks heating up.

As soon as you got inside, you immediately got a text notification from Zayne.

Zayne: That was sneaky

You giggled as you hovered your fingers to type a reply.

You: You should’ve seen your reaction lol. Drive safe okay? Message me once you got home :))

Then, it hasn’t been a minute passed when you received another reply.

Zayne: Yes I will. Thank you again for today <3

Your heart fluttered once more as you saw his reply. You placed your phone back in your bag as you went upstairs to take a shower.

Once finished, you slipped into comfortable pajamas and made your way to your room. Without another thought, you plopped onto your bed, sinking into the softness as you hugged your pillow close. A giddy laugh escaped your lips, muffled by the fabric, as the memories of the day played like a movie behind your closed eyes.

You turned your head, your gaze falling on the bouquet resting on your nightstand, its delicate petals catching the soft glow of your bedside lamp. Beneath them, the folded sketch was safely tucked away, a beautiful reminder of the man who had given it to you.

Your phone buzzed once more, and you grabbed it eagerly, heart skipping as his name appeared on the screen.

Zayne: Just got home. Sweet dreams :)

You couldn’t help the warmth that spread through you, your fingers dancing over the screen as you typed back:

You: Sweet dreams, Zayne. Today was the best.

You set your phone aside, still clutching the pillow as a contented sigh left your lips. Today really was perfect—better than you ever could’ve imagined. You hadn’t just spent the day at the University fair; you’d made memories, and shared laughter.

As your eyes grew heavy and sleep began to claim you, one thought lingered, wrapping itself around you like a comforting embrace:

Being with him just felt right.

dividers by: @saradika-graphics

[cushfuddled]

I AM SO UNWELL ABOUT JAYCE LITERALLY SHAKING NEXT TO VIKTOR'S HOSPITAL BED. Thank you for the delicious food!

Somehow this gif bolsters my belief that Jayce was the one who found Viktor's unconscious body.

Just...looking back on Jayce's face earlier that day...

Maybe this look says, "Oof, Viktor's about to take out a city block." In retrospect I'm more given to, "Am I really about to leave Viktor alone to blow himself up?"

This moment strikes me as an extension of Jayce's series-long tug-of-war between the council (and by proxy his wider obligation to society) and Viktor, who he's about to leave to perform extremely volatile lab experiments alone. They've known each other for like seven years at this point, so I daresay Jayce would expect Viktor to stay and work long after Sky and the rest of the faculty had left for the night. There's a reason lab safety protocols demand you work with a partner whenever possible. If Viktor does decide to stay late and something goes wrong, there won't be anyone around to help.

Anyway. Mel wakes up to an empty bed. I always joke Jayce's queer premonition alerted him to Viktor's plight, since if someone came by Mel's quarters to fetch him, the noise would've woken Mel as well (plus at this point their tryst was so new I'm not sure anyone would've thought to look for Jayce in Mel's bedroom). Guilt feels like the only viable explanation for Jayce's rude departure.

I posit up until this moment Jayce justified his councilor position as a means to an end. He told himself it was obligation that ripped him from Viktor; the lab; his true calling. They needed the money and the support. But I don't believe Jayce slept with Mel to "get ahead." He's not that brand of opportunist, and anyway—he'd just wrapped up a successful wine-and-dine campaign. Jayce's counselor position was more secure that night than it had ever been. He slept with Mel not out of obligation but because he wanted to.

To me this proves some part of Jayce liked the attention; the mind games; the power that came from his position. It proves Jayce didn't only leave Viktor out of obligation. And I think Jayce realized the same contradiction. He could no longer hide behind excuses like money and public perception. That night Jayce had the choice to go back to the lab and make sure Viktor hadn't electrocuted himself...or sleep with Mel. And he chose to sleep with Mel. To assuage the guilt he slipped out of bed and course-corrected to the lab—only to find Viktor passed out on the floor.

So anyway. Um. Back to OP's gif. Those are the hands of a guilt-ridden man who carried his partner to a hospital. I'm not sure why this gif makes me so sure of the fact, but I will die on this hill.

Noticing these things is above my mental health’s paygrade🥺

[wrioreid]

| Valentine's Day | spencer reid x reader

You and Spencer have plans to celebrate your first Valentine's Day together.

Warnings: fluff, slight angst?, indefinite season, some references to the series, without a definite pronoun I think?, lots of rambling.

Author's note: Hello, happy Valentine's Day! The day is literally over, but I only managed to post now :c I really wanted to write something involving my pookie and rewatching some episodes I had some ideas to put in the fanfic. Sorry if any part was confusing or doesn't make sense, I swear I tried!! Anyway, I hope it's fun to read!

The simple drops of icy water that fell calmly from the tree branches contrasted completely with the warm feeling emanating from the couples walking around there. Couples, lovers, families, friends. The street was full of people who were overflowing with love for each other, and you watched them solemnly while leaning your back against the icy wall of some random store. Not even a morning of persistent rain and unpleasantly below-par temperatures could spoil the romantic atmosphere and prevent people from loving each other.

It was February 14th, Valentine's Day. Or rather, your first Valentine's Day with someone. It was late afternoon and the rain had stopped, leaving only small drops of water as a reminder. The temperature continued, but nothing that good layers of clothing and a warm love couldn't solve.

You were waiting for Spencer. You had started dating the previous year, after February, so this was the first time you would celebrate this day together. In fact, neither of them cared about the date. You could even hear his skeptical voice again, talking about how this celebration made no sense and that it stopped being a proof of unconditional love a long time ago. On the other hand, you had never cared about the date because you had never had someone special enough to show that you were still made of love. Now that you had someone, you wanted to make the date unique.

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a smile, remembering how Spencer looked when you answered him saying that you had the desire to experience the magic of the day at least once. Not shocked, not surprised, but hopeful. The “Me too” that he whispered uncertainly like a secret being eternally kept in your mind. After that day, you started planning how you would spend the celebration, the millions of colored papers full of ideas - and dreams - scattered on the floor of his house being a warm memory in your mind.

But even though the plans were set a few good weeks ago, you - and neither he - could control your nervousness when today finally arrived. Even when you were walking together a few hours ago - him accompanying you to your house as he always did at least once a week - you couldn't hold a decent conversation. There was barely a goodbye, just you running inside the house to get ready and him running to his house to do the same. Now there you were, playing with a small puddle of water in front of you with the boot you had specially chosen while you waited for Spencer to arrive.

It wasn't like him to be late at all, and it was starting to get difficult to control your anxiety. Maybe he gave up. Maybe he realized it was something silly and irrational to celebrate. There were millions of thoughts battling against the small memory of the genuine smile he let out every time he read the post-its with the ideas for the long-awaited day.

Despite his confession when the subject came up, you had never actually talked about Valentine's Day before, much less if he had ever celebrated it. You knew that Spencer had already been in relationships with a few other people before, but you deduced that he had never celebrated the day, probably because he let reason take over, as always. However, deep down, you couldn't help but think that it was because he never allowed himself to celebrate, the idea that he was incapable of being loved rooted in his mind.

You felt pain in your heart, almost like a heart attack, when your relationship grew deeper and you would notice with each encounter these small - big - scratches that he had on his soul. Someone who would like to be seen as normal, to be perceived as someone capable of loving and being loved.

So, you take a deep breath and let the bad thoughts go away. Deep down, this is also his wish, and you accept this fact. You push yourself away from the wall, determined to find a better and more visible spot to make it easier for him. However, you didn't count on finding him standing in front of you when you stopped looking at the floor. And damn, he looked stunning.

His soft and tidy hair, his untidy white t-shirt, the wine-colored cardigan on top showing off his crooked black tie, his slightly wrinkled dress pants quickly revealing the pair of mismatched socks. All of this being soaked up by the dark gray overcoat and the purple scarf. There was literally nothing different about his style, but at the same time there was everything. Maybe it wasn't anything different physically, but whatever it was, was enough to make the thoughts that tormented you before seem like nothing more than a small fraction of an unknown nightmare now.

Spencer clears his throat, trying to bring your attention back to the real world. You can't tell if he's blushing because of the cold or because he's been stared at so intensely, but either way, it's cute. "Sorry I'm late," he says quietly, even though no one else can hear.

"It's okay, we'll still be a few minutes early." You smile playfully and awkwardly stand next to him, ready to go to the first attraction of the day. After millions of desires were buried by a job that took up too much of your time, the final decision was a traditional Valentine's Day schedule so that you could enjoy all the romantic experiences that couples usually have - as much as possible. The first stop would be at a small local theater to watch Romeo and Juliet. Afterwards, you would enjoy a beautiful romantic dinner at a special place, and by that you mean that you would have dinner at Spencer's house. And then, he would walk you home. It sounds simple, but it was more than perfect.

Despite your movement, Reid doesn't move. He looks at you with a tight-lipped smile as he unrolls a black and white fabric from his messenger bag. You hadn't realized it was there and before you know it, he's lovingly wrapping the scarf around your neck.

"I knew you'd forget," he whispers, smiling like a child who's been naughty. You use the scarf as a shield to hide your flushed cheeks, starting to walk quickly after whispering a thank you. The smell of freshly washed clothes with a hint of fresh vanilla is the only thing you can smell now, intoxicating you like a drink.

However, it's not enough to make you not notice the awkward silence between you. You've known each other for a long time and talk a lot, but the idea of ​​something new, a unique - and secret, in a way - celebration between the two of you was too much for both. You snuggle even closer into the scarf and slide your hand closer to his, your pinkies touching. You notice him looking at you from the corner of his eye, a look full of secrets for the others, but not for you. Calmly, he intertwines his fingers with yours, you now walking hand in hand and both of you smiling foolishly behind the scarf.

The play's performance was interesting, but it was hard to concentrate on it while Spencer made several dissatisfied expressions beside you. "It's almost revolting how a play about young love, family rivalry and lack of communication turned into a mere sad story about love at first sight. And I haven't even talked about the imaginary balcony yet!" It was the last thing he said after you left the theater and started walking towards his apartment, distractedly engaging in other matters.

“You can’t deny it, Spence,” you laugh out loud, smiling at his pouting face. “Love moves worlds!”

“It changes realities, that’s what it does,” he mutters, looking irritated, but a playful smile plays on his lips. “A tribute to a bishop who went against an emperor turned into a celebration of love with an exchange of gifts and declarations just because they decided to combine love and romance! And it makes much more sense for the celebration to exist because this is the first day of mating for birds. It’s the order of life!”

“Of course, it makes much more sense for men to leave love messages on their loved ones’ doors because the birds are procreating,” you giggle. “I think I’m talking to the reincarnation of Claudius II and I didn’t know it.” You joke, having even more fun when you notice Spencer pondering his words for a few moments, a furrow forming between his eyebrows.

“Technically, men who have nothing to lose are better at war than those who have love,” he pauses, now speaking again with a mischievous smile, “For example, I worked much better before I met you.”

You stop walking, shock written all over your face as you stare at him in disbelief. Spencer laughs, stretching one of his hands to intertwine them. He gently kisses the top of your hand. “Contrary to statistics and facts, I have been working better since we met and you know that very well,” he whispers, still with your hand close to his mouth, his lips brushing against your skin with each movement. You turn your face away, still angry, but taking the opportunity to control the immense urge to kiss him.

However, the whole act ends when you feel something different in your hand - the same one he was holding until just now. You turn your head quickly only to notice the beautiful red rose that magically rested in your hand, its scent so present that even from that distance you could smell it. Paralyzed, you stare at Spencer, mouth open, not knowing what to do. He stares back at you with a smile from ear to ear, his nose red from the cold.

“As someone told me the other day,” he says calmly and amusedly, “It’s worth ignoring the hype, the advertising and the high prices for someone special.”

You can barely react. Twirling the rose between your thumb and index finger, the only thing you can do is control the tears that are welling up in your eyes. It’s the first time you’ve received a flower so full of feelings from someone. A single, simple flower, but it was worth more than an entire field. Spencer calmly waits for you to recover, tenderness sparkling in his eyes.

“You’re an idiot,” you manage to whisper, hugging the flower gently so as not to ruin it or hurt yourself, despite your clothes. “H-How? Since when?”

He shrugs, reaching for your hand again and intertwining it with his, putting both in the pocket of his overcoat as he walks on again. “A magician doesn’t reveal his secrets… and he always has tricks up his sleeve.” He lets a sentence hang in the air, more mysterious than it should be. You stare at him, waiting for him to continue, but you only get a pat on the hand.

The rest of the way was calm and quiet, but comfortable enough for you to process everything, your eyes never leaving the delicate flower resting on your chest. When you arrive at the apartment, you can't help but notice how much - more than ever - this place made you feel like home.

A small smile escapes your lips as Spencer offers to help you remove and put away your coat and scarf. He removes his own scarf and coat as well and offers to put your rose in a container of water so it doesn't die. You hand it to him and as he disappears into the kitchen, you wander through the rows and rows of books, stopping when you notice that the chess pieces were not on the usual table, the moonlight coming through the window and illuminating only the chess board.

"I couldn't think of a better place," you hear Spencer say before looking in your direction, noticing the beautiful vase with several roses that he held in one hand and the tablecloth that he held in the other. He lovingly hands you the jar, smiling softly “I tried to put them all in my bag, but it was a bad idea, so they were waiting for you” he laughs embarrassedly as he arranges the tablecloth on the table.

You smile from ear to ear, enchanted by the beauty of the flowers, and place the vase in the center of the table so you can help him set up the rest of the romantic dinner. When everything was finished, you stop for a few moments to appreciate it and can't help but smile when your gaze lingers between the two chairs. As your relationship with Spencer deepened, a second chair began to appear frequently at the chess table, a sweet reminder of all the times you played there - and that, now, was even part of the scenery in his apartment -.

You sit there, smiling amusedly when Spencer reappears with a lit candle in his hand. "Waiter, please" you joke. He looks at you with arched eyebrows, carefully placing the candle next to the flowers. "On average, more than 7,000 candle fires happen here in the country each year".

You laugh nasally, fascinated by the moment "Thank you, Spence… I don't even know what to say. Everything is so… right, so romantic".

“It’s the least I could do and… I actually wish I had cooked, but time…” he scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed.

“It’s perfect, seriously. Next time we’ll cook together and you’ll see my culinary skills,” you say, making a silly smile appear on his face as he nods positively.

You eat and talk calmly for a long time, enjoying each other’s company. When darkness already dominates the streets, you realize it’s time to end the night. After helping Spencer put things back in their proper places, you pause in the middle of the room on your way out, pondering what to do. It was still Valentine’s Day and you hadn’t kissed.

However, in these last moments, Spencer seemed more spaced out and lost in his own thoughts, probably overwhelmed by the emotions of the day. You feel bad for a moment, wondering if you hadn’t forced it too much with him. So, you choose to quickly grab your flowers and your coat, your little goodbye speech already on the tip of your tongue.

“Wait,” Spencer, who was standing there watching you get ready, spoke hurriedly and, after making sure you weren’t leaving yet, disappeared into his room, returning moments later hugging an object to his chest. He walked until he was close to you, but never stopped looking at what he had in his arms. Looking closely now, you noticed that it was a somewhat old book, with some obvious marks on the cover and spine.

Spencer opened and closed his mouth several times, but unable to say anything, he just handed the book to you. Parlement of Foules was printed in large letters.

“T-This is considered the first Valentine’s Day poem,” he said uncertainly, his tone lower than normal, as if he wasn’t talking to you. “For this was on St. Valentine’s Day, when every fowl comes there his mate to take… is a 700-line poem that follows the tradition of dream vision poetry, a medieval literary style, and Chaucer uses it to discuss romantic love and freedom of choice… my mother read it to me when I was a child” he finishes in a whisper so low that you doubt if you heard it right. You press the book against your fingers, understanding the weight that it implied.

Spencer bites his lip, but resumes speaking, now with a more confident tone “It was a poem that stuck in my memory, more than any other and… given today’s date I would like it… to become important to you too. It’s the second copy my mother had in case something happened to the first one… but nothing ever happened and well… one copy is enough for me” he smiles embarrassedly, scratching the back of his neck “I-I left some notes throughout the book, too, so you would always feel accompanied while reading and… well, know my opinions about it”

“Couldn’t you read it to me too?” The question escapes your lips, your eyes glazed over the book as you caress the cover with interest.

Spencer is taken aback by the question, but a small smile plays on his lips. “I could too, of course” he paused again, now looking at you expectantly “There’s one more thing in there…”

You press your lips together and stare at him. Passion, surprise, affection… you felt so many things in that moment that not even the cold wind outside could cool the warmth that permeates your heart. You delicately open the book, noticing a writing on the title page. It was in pencil, and the marks from previous attempts were still there as if they were telling you a secret, but they didn’t get in the way of reading the large, hurried letters.

You can only teach a child to love by loving them. Johann Goethe, From your Spencer

A small drop falls onto the page, briefly staining the paper. You then realize that tears are streaming down your face, even though a tender smile has not left your lips. Spencer comes even closer, taking the book from your hand so he can hold it in his. With his other hand, he slowly passes it over your face, wiping away the small drops that insisted on running down.

“The whole discussion of the poem revolves around love… whether people are destined to be together or whether they have the right to choose, whether by passion, affinity or social conventions.” He speaks delicately, never taking his eyes off you. “Love is everyone’s final destiny, but it is a complex, free and uncertain process that, honestly, is still the action of hormones and neurotransmitters…” He bites his lips, quickly looking away to look at you again, determined. “But even so, even though it is not destiny… I firmly believe and I am more than happy to know that I made all the correct choices that led us to meeting.”

Honestly, fuck it. You put your hands around his face, cradling him, and bring him closer to you. Your lips touch gently, and you can't focus on anything else. Spencer timidly holds your waist, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. Delicately, he starts to run his hands over your body as if he were appreciating a work of art until he reaches your face, where he caresses the side of your cheek with one hand and pulls you even closer with the other - if that's possible -. You separate from the kiss panting, but remain close, your foreheads touching. Spencer calmly places a tender kiss on your nose, then your forehead and, finally, on the top of your head, enjoying every second.

When you look at each other again, the only thing you can whisper are several "Thank yous". He smiles lovingly, still caressing your face.

“I don’t even know how to thank you, Spence,” you whisper. “You gave me so much today, with so much love, so much dedication… and I only gave you a meager little letter with messages that you surely already knew… I really don’t know how to repay you.”

His smile widens and when he answers, you feel like you’ve finally found your place. “Nothing could surpass the happiness your letter brought me, love, there’s nothing you can repay. However, it would make me even happier if you slept here…”

Author's note 2: Hello there! If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading! I'm also on c.ai with the same user @/wrioreid, but the process of making the bots is going veryyy slowly.

[cheriladycl01]

Better than me - Charles Leclerc x Reader P11

Plot: You are a rookie in your first f1 season, adding to the ever-growing amount of Brits performing in the grid

A/N: I feel like i haven't posted in so long because ive been stuck on this one chapter, and where the season isn't on right now i've distanced myself from F1 a little. I know this chapter is short but i fear its what i needed to get myself writing for F1 again.

You sat politely in the media pen, with a bottle of water before being directed next to Lando for a seat.

All of the media came in ready to start asking questions and interviewing you guys for the media panel.

It was the first race back for you where you’d actively talked to the media so it was a little nerve wracking knowing that you’d be asked if you were truly ready to come back or if it would be more beneficial for you to take some more time off and wait.

Having people like Lando was helpful as he was one of the people who checked up on you while you were out of races, he’d never spent prolonged periods of times away from the races when everyone else was racing so he didn’t actually know what it felt like.

But he of course wasn't Charles.

After your last conversation with the Ferrari driver he had become someone you thought about far too often for your own liking. He was constantly in the back of your mind and it was becoming very annoying.

And now that you were here, at a race and going to be back in the first time since your crash you saw him everywhere. And not just as a physical person, he was on the merch in the fan zone, and his face was plastered all over banners and every Ferrari you saw drive through the streets had you holding your breath wondering whether it could be him.

It never was, strangely since arriving on the Tuesday you never saw him. You couldnt really tell what would be better though. A large part of you wanted to see him, yell at him, hug him and be comforted by him. Another part of you just really wanted to ignore him and forget he even existed.

But at the end of the day, yours and Charles relationship in the short time you knew one another had been chaotic to say the least with everything that had gone on in your first season in F1.

Drive to survive could most likely do a whole series just on you this one season and all the scandals that had arose.

"Y/N? It's great to see you here" the interviewer smiles kindly at you, you give a polite nod back raising the mic up to your face.

"And it feels great to finally be back after all this time" you grin, putting on the face people wanted to see.

"Yeah? Do you feel like you've given yourself enough time away to heal. Do you feel confident getting back in the car?" he asks and you nod, head tilted to the side in a thoughtful way.

"I do. I think all drivers will agree that when something sets you back you pretty much everything to get back to where you were at. A lot set me back this year and i feel better than ever and get back to what I know which is the racing" you answer with a small smile.

"It's crazy how quickly the body can recover and mentally how you can come back from something like that" he praises and you nod, not sure if it was a question or not.

"It's obviously different because the stakes are higher, but if you had an accident in your workplace im sure once you've healed you'd go right back to the job in a muscle memory way with a little more caution at the back of your mind" you explain.

He moves on asking questions to the other drivers meaning you were free to zone out and look around calming your mind for the weekend ahead.

After what felt like hours too you, the panel ended and you were dismissed back to the garage. You had a snack before wondering around looking at the car and getting a feel for it. Every weekend you had been here and not driving, just looking at the data had you itching to get back in the car.

Now that you were here you wanted to sit back in the car. You hopped in to the cockpit your hand running round the halo as you slip your feet down. It felt weird being sat in the car in your team gear and not in the racesuit, but just holding the wheel and checking all the buttons were still in the same place as when you'd left, which looking back on after you'd checked you felt silly.

"Feeling ready for the actual test tomorrow?" Alex asks coming over from his side of the garage, having been watching you for the last 5 minutes wondering if too bother you or not.

"Mmmm? Oh yeah i think so, just a lot on my mind" you say looking up at the boy who'd become like an older brother too you.

"You're gonna be just fine. You'll prove them all wrong" Alex grins and you cock your head to the side in confusion.

"I don't even know who i have to prove myself too anymore. I- just wanna drive with no expectation but i cant really do that here can i" you laugh a little bit.

"I mean, you could. Not sure how long you'd have this job for though" he jokes and you nod.

"Mmmm yeah i guess i should try. Maybe we can even gets some points tomorrow. I do feel like i've let you all down"

"You haven't, you've been healing and having a difficult time from ... what Lily's told me" he admits slowly your head shooting out to look at him.

"Sh-she told you?" You ask.

"Yeah, I know that you didn't want her to, don't take this oiut on her but she was worried about you going into this weekend and seeing him after what happened and i just wanted to let you know i am here for you and always will be. Whatever you need, an escape, a hug, a tow. I am more than just your teammate okay?" he explains rubbing your shoulder, tears filling up your waterline as you look up at him, before you head flops againt his arm.

"Thank you Alex" you sniff.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[lindsey-laufeyson]

Distractions- Chapter 19

Distractions Masterlist

Pairing: Reader x FWB!Tom Hiddleston

Series Warnings: SMUT, fluff, angst, friends with benefits

The first time you and Tom spent time together after you told him you wanted to just be friends for a while, it was a bit awkward. It wasn’t like you didn't know what to do with each other when sex wasn’t an option. That part was easy. You did everything you’d always done together, you just didn’t have your hands all over each other while you did it. That was the hard part. You were so used to touching each other all the time, and now you were both trying so hard not to that you hardly knew what to do with your own hands. Your bodies were like magnets to each other, and at first it seemed almost impossible to resist that pull toward one another. But over time, it got a little easier. Relatively anyway.

Meanwhile, Tom was finding that his feelings for you weren’t subsiding in the slightest. In fact, not being able to kiss you or touch you beyond a quick hug only made him realize that he’d taken that freedom for granted, and it made him ache for you even more.

On top of that, you weren’t quite yourself. You were more reserved and guarded. He relished the times he could pull a genuine laugh out of you, because it was an occurrence which was happening fewer and farther between. And yet, you wouldn’t tell him what was wrong. He never pressed you, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt. He thought the two of you could tell each other anything, but evidently that was not the case. Granted, he was keeping a rather big secret from you, but that was different. He knew that you were both better off if he didn’t tell you how he felt about you. He just had to get over it. But how the hell was he supposed to do that?

…

It had been a few weeks of focusing on just being friends with Tom, and it wasn’t helping like you thought it would. Every time the two of you hung out, you’d look at his lips and wish they were kissing you, you’d look at his hands and wish they were touching you, you’d look at his arms and wish they were holding you. And the jealousy was getting worse. Every day that you didn’t see him, you wondered who he was with instead. And there were times when you were with him and he’d be texting someone back and forth. Yes, it could be about work or from one of his other friends, but you couldn’t help but wonder if it was someone he was sleeping with, especially when you saw a woman’s name pop up on his phone that you didn’t recognize. To make it worse, every time you had these thoughts, you hated yourself a little more. You never thought you’d be that girl. You used to be this career driven badass who wouldn’t be tied down by anyone, and now you were this pathetic little girl with an unrequited crush and crippling jealousy issues. That’s what you had decided, by the way. It was just a silly crush– an all-consuming, blinding, deafening, mind-numbing, heart-wrenching crush– and the thing about crushes is that they eventually fade. So all you had to do was wait it out. What you were quickly learning, however, is that it was a lot easier said than done.

Now you found yourself getting ready for Kaitlyn’s birthday party, and you were unnecessarily nervous. You knew Kaitlyn would have definitely invited Tom, but you didn’t know if he was going. You hadn’t seen him since she had invited you a week ago. Would he show up with a date? If not, would he go home with one? You don’t know if you’d be able to handle seeing him flirt with someone else, but you couldn’t hold it against him if he did. Then again, maybe he wouldn’t be there and then you wouldn’t have to worry about any of this.

Unfortunately, life was not that kind. When you walked into the pub, you were immediately met with Tom’s annoyingly cute smile from across the room. He waved at you before turning back to… of course… a pretty young thing in a tiny black dress. You were suddenly kicking yourself for wearing one of your more modest sundresses as you walked straight to the bar. Once you had a drink in your hand, you went to find Kaitlyn, using all the effort you could muster not to glance back over at Tom.

“You made it!” came Kaitlyn’s voice from behind you.

You turned around and hugged her. “Hi! Happy birthday, darling!” You held her out at arms length to get a good look at her. “It is so good to see you!” It was true. You realized how isolated you’d become and it was nice to see a friend whose presence didn’t make your heart ache. She also reminded you of simpler, happier times.

“It’s great to see you too! How are you?”

Little did she know how complicated of a question that was right now. “I’m doing alright. Focusing on work as usual. How are you?”

“I’m wonderful! Miss working with you though. Did you see that Tom is here? I’m actually a little surprised you guys didn’t come together!” She chuckled.

“Oh he is?” you said in an attempt to be nonchalant. “I wasn’t sure if he was coming, or not.”

Kaitlyn looked confused. “Really? I thought you guys would be living happily ever after by now, after that kiss from the last time I saw you!”

You chuckled as you shook your head. “If you recall, that was a dare. We’re still just friends, Kait.”

She rolled her eyes and groaned dramatically. “Jesus, you two are frustrating.”

You put your hand on her shoulder. “Nevermind that. It’s your birthday, and I’m buying you a birthday shot! What do you want?”

“You really don’t have too–”

“Ah ah! It’s not an option! Let me do this! I’ll be right back.” You left her to mingle while you headed back to the bar.

“Can I get a ‘blowjob,’ please?” you asked the bartender.

“I didn’t realize it was that kind of party,” came a voice from behind you. The voice that made you weak in the knees. Well, you couldn’t avoid him all night.

“You know what, make that two,” you added.

“Better make it three,” Tom interjected. He leaned on the bar next to you and placed a hand on the small of your back. “Hi, by the way.”

“Hi,” you replied casually, trying to ignore the goosebumps that spread over your whole body from one little touch. “Sorry, I thought I should find Kait and get her a shot before I came and found you.”

“No worries, darling. I’m just glad you’re here.” He smiled warmly at you.

You briefly smiled back before shifting your gaze back to the busy bartender. Don’t ask who he was talking to. Do not ask. “Who was it you were talking to before? Someone you know?” Dammit.

“Just a friend of Kaitlyn’s. A fan, apparently. Nice girl.” He sounded uninterested, which pleased you probably more than it should have. There was a beat of silence between you before he spoke again. “How’ve you been?”

You looked down at your hands. “Erm, busy. You know, with work and stuff.”

“That’s not really what I was asking, Swe–”

“Three blowjobs,” the bartender announced as he placed the shots in front of you.

“Let’s go find the birthday girl!” you said overenthusiastically, handing him a shot before taking the other two and heading into the crowd.

When you found Kaitlyn, she was sitting at a table with a couple of people who were just leaving. She threw her hands in the air when she saw you and Tom and squealed. “Aaaahhh! Name a more iconic duo!”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, okay, okay. It’s time for shots.” You placed the glass with the most whipped cream in front of Kaitlyn.

“Ooh! What is it?” she asked excitedly.

“Just drink it, and then I’ll tell you,” you replied with a smirk. She eyed you suspiciously and then shrugged, as if deciding she didn’t care.

The three of you raised your glasses. “Happy birthday, Kaitlyn!” you and Tom cheered before all three of you downed the concoction. Yours was gone before Kaitlyn finished hers, so you thought now was the opportune time to tell her what she was drinking.

“Congrats on your first blowjob, Kait!” you said.

Kaitlyn went wide-eyed and suddenly started coughing, which soon mixed with laughter. “You’re disgusting!”

You and Tom both laughed. “It’s delicious though, right?” you asked. She nodded as she continued to cough and laugh.

“I think you’ve gone and killed the poor girl,” Tom said. You smiled at him, amused with yourself and he suddenly pressed his lips together, holding back another laugh.

“What?” you asked.

He let out a reserved chuckle. “You’ve got some…” He pointed to his top lip.

“Oh!” you quickly wiped the whipped cream off your upper lip, and then you noticed he actually had some on the corner of his mouth and you giggled. “You’re one to talk.”

He wiped his upper lip too, not realizing where the cream was.

You smiled and shook your head. “Here, let me.” Placing a hand on his cheek, you carefully swiped your thumb over the corner of his mouth, locking eyes with him in the process. For a fraction of a second, the sounds and sights of the pub seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of you.

The sound of a group of people roaring with laughter somewhere else in the pub snapped you out of your trance. You cleared your throat and looked down at your lap before briefly looking back up at Tom, absentmindedly sucking the cream off of the tip of your thumb. “There. Right as rain.”

“Thanks,” Tom choked out. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Thanks.” He gave a nervous chuckle and the two of you turned your attention back to Kaitlyn, who had not only stopped coughing, but was actively staring at the two of you with her mouth agape.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, annoyed.

“What?” you and Tom asked in unison. She merely rolled her eyes and let her forehead fall forward into her palm.

After that, you managed to loosen up a bit and just enjoy yourself. You caught up with Kaitlyn and Warren and a few others from the film you’d done together and just generally enjoyed yourself. All the while, you were still hyper aware of Tom’s presence, finding the slightest excuse to touch him in the most innocent ways, and you could have sworn he was doing the same. One of you would briefly put their hand on the other’s arm or back, when you’d sit, it would be close enough that your legs would just barely touch, or sometimes you’d even just barely graze your hand against his when walking by. At first you told yourself it was completely innocuous, ignoring the high it gave you each time. But as the night went on, the more it happened, and the more you had to pretend like you weren’t playing with fire. All you wanted to do was let go and have fun, something you hadn’t done in weeks. Unfortunately, it didn’t last long.

About half way through the night, during a rather rousing quarters tournament, a petite young red headed woman called Lily arrived at the party. Apparently, she and Kaitlyn went to uni together, but what surprised you was that Tom knew her as well.

“Tommy!” she greeted him excitedly, wrapping her arms around his neck as they hugged.

Tom gave her a few strokes on the back before pulling away, looking at her with a large grin on his face. “How are you? I didn’t know you knew Kaitlyn!”

“It’s a small world isn’t it? I’m doing well! What have you been up to?” She hooked her arm under his and dragged him away while they talked. He didn’t even introduce you to her. Your jaw clenched as you did your best to turn your attention back to the game, but you couldn’t help glancing over at them. She was more touchy with him in their one conversation than you’d been with him all night. You were beginning to get an idea of just how well they knew each other. Occasionally you caught him glancing back at you, a look of concern on his face. You assumed it was guilt, or pity, or both. But when Lily also looked at you with the same face, you could no longer pretend that you were okay. You needed some air.

“I’ll be right back, Kait,” you told Kaitlyn, before making a beeline for the alley door.

As the door shut behind you, you leaned back against the brick, looking up at the sky and blinking back tears. You had no time to gather yourself, however, before Tom came to find you.

“Y/n–” As soon as he saw you, his features dropped with concern. “Hey, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you said, wiping your eyes, but there was no hiding the tears that had already escaped down your cheeks.

“No, you’re not.” There was a hint of annoyance in his voice, knowing you were blatantly lying to him. “What’s wrong?” He stepped in front of you and cupped your face in his hands.

“Don’t worry about it, Tom,” you looked down at your feet, but he gently lifted your face to look at him.

“You keep saying that, but it doesn’t make me worry any less.” His piercing blue eyes desperately searched yours for the answers you refused to give him, while your own gaze pleaded with him to let it go. When he couldn't find what he was looking for, he sighed and pressed his forehead to yours, both of you closing your eyes for a moment. You brought one hand up to cradle the back of his head while the other rested on his chest. Tilting your head up, you lightly grazed the tip of your nose along the side of his, and he responded in kind. Your breathing became shallow and you could feel his heart racing under your palm. You looked at his lips and he at yours, electricity flowing across the millimeter gap between them until finally, they touched. The kiss made your breath hitch and your heart flutter. For a moment, you felt like you were floating, like you were safe, like you were home, until you realized what was happening. Shit.

You broke the kiss abruptly and stepped away from him. “I can’t do this.”

He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath before looking earnestly at you. “Why?”

“Because I can’t, Tom,” you replied, the pain in your voice clear as ever.

“That’s not a reason.” He sounded frustrated.

Your eyes welled up even more as you shook your head. “You’re not being fair.”

“I’m not being fair? Y/n, I can feel you pulling away from me and you won’t tell me why.”

Beginning to feel defensive, you rolled your teary eyes at him. “You’re just sore because you can’t fuck me anymore.”

Tom froze for a moment, raising his eyebrows at you. “Wow,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “I am sick of you always making assumptions about me based on your own insecurities.”

Your pain and anger continued to rise. “You’re just not used to someone seeing past the whole Prince Charming façade and calling you out on your bullshit. I hate to break it to you, but not every woman you put your dick into falls for your little act.”

“Fuck you, Y/n,” he snapped back. “You’re so damaged that no one even has a chance at getting close to you.”

Feeling a sharp stab in your chest, your eyes shot back to him in disbelief, then narrowed with rage. “You know what? If that’s the way you feel, then get the fuck out of my life.”

“Gladly,” he hissed as he yanked the alley door open and disappeared into the pub, leaving you standing there alone, your body shaking and tears streaming down your face.

Taglist: @chronicallybubbly , @the-princess-of-loki , @princess-ofthe-pages , @darcylikesloki , @kikster606 , @foxherder , @simone818283 , @newtomofgods @christinebloodwrittings @tom-hlover , @lulubelle814 , @kingliam2019, @leniram1890

[cheynovak]

Blind date

One shot story

Pairing: Beau Arlen x Y/N F/reader

Summary: Y/N is Carla's best friend and ER doctor who transfered to Big sky Montana. Beau and Y/N where set up on a blind date, one thing leads to another that leads to complications.

Warnings: 18+, smut, talk of sex, keeping secrets, ...

English isn't my first language

Please do not copy my work. Sharing/Linking and comments are appreciated.

This story does not follow the original timeline of the series.

Y/N stepped into the dimly lit bar, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on the small white rose resting in a vase on the table near the back. She let out a quiet sigh, adjusting the strap of her purse as she made her way over. Her coworkers had insisted on setting her up on this blind date, promising her it would be a great way to meet someone new in Big Sky.

But as she approached, the man sitting at the table finally looked up, and her stomach dropped.

"Beau?" she blurted out, stopping in her tracks.

Beau Arlen, her best friend Carla’s ex-husband, sat there looking just as surprised as she felt. He glanced at the rose on the table, then back at her, clearing his throat.

"Y/N," he greeted, getting up from his chair.

She let out a short laugh, more out of disbelief than anything, before nodding toward the flower. "I guess you’re my date."

Beau exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, looks like it."

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. It wasn’t that they didn’t know each other—far from it. Y/N had known Beau for years through Carla. He wasn’t just some stranger her coworkers had picked out for her; he was someone she never expected to sit across from on a date.

She finally slid into the chair across from him, arching a brow. "So… do we just call this off now, or do we at least order a drink first?"

Beau chuckled, shaking his head. "I mean, I came here expecting to have dinner with someone, so… might as well make the most of it, right?"

Y/N tilted her head, considering. Maybe this didn’t have to be weird. Maybe they could just have a casual dinner and laugh about it later.

"Alright, Arlen," she said, flagging down the bartender. "But you’re buying the first round."

Beau smirked. "Deal."

Their conversation was casual but fun, filled with easy banter and shared stories. Y/N told Beau about her move to Montana and how hectic the ER could get. He listened intently, nodding as he sipped his drink.

"You miss Texas?" he asked, his tone curious but not pressing.

She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I do, but I like it here. It’s different, but in a good way."

Beau leaned back in his chair, considering her words. "Yeah, I get that. Montana has a way of growing on you."

She chuckled. "That, or I just don’t have time to think about it much with how crazy work gets."

Beau smirked, taking another sip. "Welcome to the club."

They talked easily, catching up on the changes in both their lives. Y/N eventually brought up something she knew had to be on his mind.

"You know, you must be excited that is moving Emily closer," she said, watching his reaction carefully. At the mention of his daughter, Beau’s expression softened. He nodded, setting his glass down. "Carla told you?"

"Yeah," Y/N admitted. "She mentioned that she and her husband were moving a few towns over. Same state, at least."

Beau let out a breath, a mix of relief and anticipation in his eyes. "It’ll be good to have her close again. It’s been hard not seeing her as much as I want."

Y/N smiled. "She’s gonna love it here." Beau looked at her for a moment before nodding. "Yeah… I think so too."

As the night stretched on, their conversation grew more personal. The drinks helped loosen things up, but it was mostly the comfort of familiarity that kept them talking.

"So," Beau leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, "you been dating much since you moved here?"

Y/N huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. "No time, to be honest. Between shifts and trying to actually sleep, dating hasn’t exactly been a priority."

Beau nodded knowingly. "Yeah, I get that. My job isn’t exactly a walk in the park either. Hard to meet someone when you’re always on call, always dealing with something."

"Exactly." Y/N swirled the last bit of her drink in her glass, watching the ice shift. "And even if you do meet someone, not everyone gets the crazy work hours. They think you’re avoiding them when, really, you’re just too damn exhausted."

Beau smirked. "Sounds familiar."

She glanced up at him, her expression thoughtful but open as always. "I mean, I don’t really miss anyone, if that makes sense. But the physical stuff? That, I could use once in a while. Helps relieve stress."

Beau choked out a laugh, shaking his head. "Well, that’s one way to put it."

She shrugged, grinning. "Just being honest."

He didn’t doubt that for a second. Y/N had never been one to sugarcoat things, and it was something he’d always appreciated about her. But as much as he laughed it off, he knew exactly what she meant. It was the same for him—when your life was all work and little play, there wasn’t much time to actually get to know someone, let alone build something real.

The thought lingered between them for a moment, unspoken but understood.

After dinner, Beau did the gentlemanly thing and drove Y/N home. He pulled up to her place, the engine humming softly as they sat there for a beat longer than necessary.

"Thanks for tonight," she said, unbuckling her seatbelt but not moving to leave just yet.

Beau gave her a small smile. "Yeah, it was… unexpected, but good."

She lingered, fingers tapping against her thigh before glancing at him. "You wanna come in for a drink?" He hesitated for a second, but then nodded. "Sure."

Inside, the air felt heavier, charged with something unspoken. Y/N poured them both a drink in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as she handed him his glass. He took a sip, watching her over the rim, and she could tell there was something circling in his mind.

"So," she started, setting her drink down, "have you ever considered a fuck buddy?"

Beau coughed slightly, not expecting that. His brows lifted in surprise. "Excuse me?"

She smirked, tilting her head. "You heard me."

His lips parted like he was about to respond, but he just stared at her, trying to gauge if she was joking. The look in her eyes told him she wasn’t. Then, something changed in his expression. His surprise melted into something darker, something hungry.

"You mean…" He lifted a finger, gesturing between them.

"Well," she confirmed. "We’re adults, right? And I know you are clean, as an officer of the law you are tested regular, so am I. And who better than someone you know and trust."

Beau exhaled slowly, setting his glass down. He thought about it for a second, then met her gaze. "No one needs to know, right?"

She shook her head. "No one."

He let that settle in his mind, then took a slow step toward her. "Just… physical?"

Y/N didn’t answer with words. The smirk on her lips was all the confirmation he needed.

That was all it took.

Beau closed the space between them, his hand cupping the side of her face as he kissed her, fierce and demanding. She responded instantly, fingers gripping his shirt, pulling him closer as the heat between them ignited into something neither of them planned—but neither of them wanted to stop.

He lifted her on the counter, while his lips where on her neck, his hand moved in between her legs. Her breaths turned to moans. Beau didn't waste any time as she was also needy. To his surprise he got her quickly to the edge. He kneeled and placed his lips over her sensitive bud to tip her over the edge.

Her hand flew to his hair. her nails scraping while her other hand cling to the counter.

When he stood up. She pulled him in close to kiss him, muttering "Fuck that was fast." Beau smirked. "Let's hope I'm not as quick or it will be done very soon." Y/N laughed out loud, her head falling back but the second Beau pushed himself inside her, her laugh changed to a deep groan, and she clung to his neck.

Y/N moved her hips which made Beau groan and held her still. Y/N bit her lip leaning in "Take what you need Beau." His head lay against hers. "Call me old fashioned but I still want to give you pleasure."

"You did, you did give Beau. Now take." His eyes darkened and his pace became quick and rough. Like a man starved, his hand held on to her hips as his smacked against her.

Her moans combined with the feeling of her made him quicken his thrusts even more and before he knew it, he couldn't hold himself back anymore.

His face hid in the crook of her neck while his deep groans told her he had listened. And he had indeed took what he needed... release.

Afterward, Beau ran a hand through his hair, letting out a breath before stepping back. "That felt good didn't it." She smiled. She could see his doubtful look. "I'm usually not this... quick." he said still breathing fast. "

"I get it." Y/N said "Neither am I, we probably just needed it because it had been way to long."

***

Once outside. The night air was cool against his heated skin as he turned back to her.

"Thank you," he said, his voice low. "I really needed that." Y/N leaned against the doorframe, still catching her breath, but then his next words made her frown slightly.

"And… sorry." Her brows furrowed. "Sorry?" Beau smirked, nodding toward her. "I might have messed up your hair." She reached up, feeling the tangled mess hanging around her face, and let out a laugh. "Beau, I think you did exactly right."

He chuckled, shifting slightly before meeting her gaze again. There was something in his expression—satisfaction, maybe a little amusement—but also understanding. This was simple. No expectations, no complications.

She bit her lip, tilting her head. "Call me whenever you need to… you know." Beau smirked, his eyes dark with something unreadable. "Same goes for you." He took a step back, hands slipping into his pockets. "Good night, Y/N."

"Good night, Beau," she replied, watching as he got into his car. As he drove off, she stood there for a moment, exhaling slowly. Yeah… this was going to be interesting.

--

Weeks passed, and Beau and Y/N kept finding their way back to each other whenever they had a free moment. It didn’t matter if it was after a brutal shift in the ER or a long, exhausting day at the station—if one of them needed an escape, the other was there.

Mostly, they fucked like needy teenagers, desperate and relentless, as if the stress of their lives could only be burned away in the heat between them. Afterward, they’d lay tangled in her sheets, catching their breath, bodies still humming from the release.

And then, for a little while, they’d just talk.

Not about feelings, not about anything too deep—just whatever had pushed them to need this in the first place. A rough case, a stubborn patient, the weight of their jobs pressing too hard. They listened, they understood, and then they went their separate ways.

No strings. No expectations. Just a mutual agreement to be there when the other needed to forget the world for a while.

Tonight was different.

Beau had texted her earlier, a simple, "You got a moment?" Nothing unusual. She agreed, set the time, expecting the same routine—needy, desperate, quick.

And at first, it was. He kissed her the second she let him in, hands gripping her waist like he couldn’t get close enough. But when they finally made it to her bed, something shifted.

His kisses, usually hungry and demanding, were soft. Almost careful. His movements slowed, his hips rolling against hers with a deep, steady rhythm instead of the usual urgency. His hands didn’t just grab or pull—they lingered, tracing, memorizing.

Y/N noticed immediately.

"Beau?" she murmured between kisses, brows furrowing. "Are you—"

He didn’t let her finish. His lips pressed against hers again, silencing any question. Then his arms wrapped around her fully, holding her close, his face tucking into the crook of her neck.

Her breath hitched. This was different. This wasn’t just stress relief.

He needed something else tonight.

She didn’t push him for answers. Instead, she let her fingers slip into his hair, holding him just as tightly, letting him take whatever comfort he was looking for.

And even though they never made this personal before—tonight, it felt like it was.

Y/n felt weird after that and didn't texted for a while, trying to figuere out what had changed.

Until she had a really difficult patient, the man tried to grope several nurses, and she had a hard time helping him. When Beau walked in with another scumbag who needed attention she told a colleague to take over and pulled beau apart to a small empty room.

She started kissing him, and he joked "Hello to you too."

"Sorry," Y/N murmured between kisses "Need you right the fuck now." Beau smirked liking her boldness. He turned her around, dropping their pants I doing so and lifting her leg on a chair while her hand pushed against the wall.

"How do you want me?" He whispered in her ear. "Hard and quick." She moved one hand to his hair. "Please." Beau bit her ear as he positioned himself between her legs.

With a frantic pace the small room filled with deep breaths and soft moans. One of his hands pulled her back by her hip to increase the thrust impact while his other covered her mouth.

The second Beau felt her legs starting to shake he couldn't hold back any longer and felt his own release fill her. "Ffffuck!" he whispered against her shoulder.

***

As they where cleaning and dressing up Beau seemed nervous. He kept looking at her. But right the second he wanted to say something she kissed him on his cheek and said, 'Thanks I really needed that." Beau smiled and look at the floor "Yeah, sure no problem, that was eh... hot."

Y/N place a hand on the door.

"Wait!"

She turned towards Beau. Who was scratching the back of his neck. "B-before you go back out there, saving lives, what eh... Are you free tonight?"

It shouldn't have shocked her, that question, she could have thought it was just an invite for another round of sex, it wouldn't have been the first time they had sex multiple times a day. But something in the way he looked she knew it meant something else.

"Are you ok? are you hurt?"

"Hurt? Oh no, no I was just thinking, I'm alone tonight, and eh, Emily isn't with me, so I thought maybe we could order Chinese food and watch some tv or something. I know you wanted to watch Yellowstone for a while so... What do you think?"

"Eh... Well I'm sorry but I'm... not available tonight." Y/N bit her lip. "If I had know..." Beau stopped her by putting his hand up. "No no, I'm pretty last minute with this, it's fine."

"Maybe next time?" She tried to lift the mood but could see how defeated Beau looked.

"Yeah, next time."

***

Beau had just dropped Emily off at Carla’s when he noticed they had company. He wasn’t the type to linger, but he figured he’d at least be polite.

"Nice place," he commented, glancing around.

Carla smiled. "Thanks. We’re finally settling in."

Before he could make a quick exit, Avery clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Beau. You should come in, man. Let me show you around."

Beau hesitated but eventually nodded. No harm in being civil, right?

Stepping inside, he took in the place, nodding along as Avery talked. But then his gaze landed on the living room, and his whole body tensed.

Y/N.

She was sitting on the couch, legs crossed, holding a glass of wine. But it wasn’t just her presence that caught him off guard—it was the man sitting next to her.

Carla followed his gaze and, as if sensing the awkward tension, smiled a little too tightly. "You remember Y/N, right?"

Beau’s jaw flexed, and he forced a nod, playing along like they hadn’t been tangled in her sheets just the other night. "Yeah. Of course."

Y/N, to her credit, played it cool, offering a polite smile. But he saw it—the flicker of recognition, the same tension tightening her shoulders.

Carla gestured to the man beside her. "This is Tyler. He’s a vet, a friend of Avery’s. We thought we’d all have a little double date night."

Beau barely heard the rest of what she said. His eyes locked on Y/N’s for a fraction of a second, and he caught it—the slight shift in her expression when she noticed the way his jaw clenched, the way his grip tightened around his drink.

She noticed his jealousy.

And damn it, he wasn’t doing a good job of hiding it.

Beau let out a sharp breath, gripping his keys as he turned toward his car. "I gotta go. Enjoy your night."

Y/N jumped up from the couch, barely processing what she was doing before she was rushing after him.

"Beau, wait!"

He stopped at his car but didn’t turn around. When he finally spoke, his voice was tense. "What?"

"It’s not what it looks like," she insisted.

He let out a dry, humorless laugh, finally facing her. "It’s not what? You, on a date, showing cleavage for Dr. Dolittle while we were just—" He stopped himself, jaw tightening before he shook his head. "Never mind. Not my business. You have fun."

He yanked open his car door, but she stepped in front of him, stopping him from leaving.

"Don’t be like that."

"Like what?" He narrowed his eyes.

"Jealous, Beau!"

His laugh was short and sharp. "Jealous?"

"Yes! Jealous, You were the one who said no one could know. Just sex, remember?"

"Yeah, well," he shot back, "you also said you didn’t have time to date!"

Y/N’s breath caught. She hadn’t expected that.

Beau sighed, running a hand over his face, clearly frustrated. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. You’re right. This is my fault. I should’ve told you..." He trailed off before shaking his head. "You should go back inside. I’m sure you’re a great match with him."

"Beau, please." She reached out, grabbing his arm.

His muscles tensed under her touch, but he didn’t pull away.

"I didn’t set this up," she said firmly. "I had no idea he’d be here. Honestly, I thought it was just their housewarming."

Beau finally looked at her, searching her face for any sign of a lie. Finding none, his shoulders dropped slightly.

"Yeah?" His voice was quieter now.

"Yeah," she confirmed. "I wouldn’t do that."

He exhaled, glancing back at the house before looking at her again. "I should go."

Y/N nodded slowly, but before he could move, she squeezed his arm gently. "Beau… we should talk about this."

He swallowed hard but didn’t answer right away. Instead, he gave her a small nod before stepping back.

"Not tonight," he finally said. "But soon."

And with that, he got into his car and drove away, leaving Y/N standing there, heart pounding, knowing that everything between them had just changed.

***

Months had passed, and they never talked.

Y/N had convinced herself it was for the best—until the night Beau was brought into the ER, bleeding and battered.

She had been reviewing charts when she heard his name. Her stomach dropped. Rushing to the trauma bay, she found him lying on the bed, a deep cut on his face and a gunshot wound to his arm. No bullet left inside, just a clean wound, but it didn’t make seeing him like that any easier.

He caught the worry in her eyes, even though she kept her face neutral, professional. She didn’t ask questions, didn’t demand answers—just did her job. And despite how much time had passed, Beau knew she was holding back, not because she didn’t care, but because he had never called her back. He had no right to ask for her concern.

By morning, as her shift was ending, she stopped by his room one last time.

"I called Emily," she said, stepping inside. "She and Carla are on their way to pick you up. You’re allowed to leave."

Beau sat on the edge of the bed, watching as she approached. When she leaned in to check his bandage one more time, his hand moved instinctively, resting lightly on her hip.

"I’m sorry," he said, his voice rough.

Y/N froze for a beat before exhaling softly. "How… how is Tyler?" he asked hesitantly.

She sighed, pulling back slightly. "I don’t know. Haven’t seen him since that night."

Beau let out a quiet breath, his head hanging low. "I’m sure I did that. He must have thought I was some crazy ex or something." She frowned, confused. "No, I just… didn’t meet with him. I was too busy trying to make amends with a stubborn sheriff."

His eyes lifted to hers, something flickering in them—guilt, regret, maybe something else.

"I messed up," he admitted.

Y/N tilted her head, lips quirking slightly. "Well," she said, a teasing lilt in her voice, "I guess I did too."

"No, no," Beau said, shaking his head slightly. His grip on her hip tightened just a little, like he needed her to hear this. "I should have told you—I started to like you."

Y/N’s breath hitched. She swallowed, heart pounding. "Beau…" she sighed, searching his face. "I guess I knew."

His brows furrowed. "You did?"

She gave him a small, almost shy smile. "Yeah. Well, I mean… last time, at my house, you were different. It didn’t feel like just sex, and I was afraid of what that meant, so I didn’t ask anything. But now, when I think about it… it all makes sense."

She took a step closer, moving to stand between his legs.

Beau’s good arm lifted, his fingers brushing her cheek gently, his thumb tracing her skin like he was memorizing it. His voice was quiet, almost raw. "Please forgive me."

Her forehead rested against his, and she exhaled slowly. "Of course."

For the longest time, they just stayed like that, breathing the same air, looking into each other’s eyes, feeling the weight of everything that had been left unsaid.

And then, finally, he kissed her.

Soft, slow, deep—nothing like the hurried, desperate kisses they used to share. This was different. This meant something.

"Please go on another date with me?" Beau sounded almost insecure. She smiled, "I still kind of what to see Yellowstone, and now that the Sheriff is injured I presume he has some time off in the near future?"

"For you? Always." he smiled.

Y/N kissed him, "Good, because I think I just find someone worthy of making time for."

--

Taglist :

@jackles010378 @libby99hb @winchesterwild78 @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @deans-baby-momma @ancles @tulipsvanilla @thesilmarillionblog @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @kr804573 @kamisobsessed @hobby27 @globetrotter28 @kindollss @muhahaha303 @shadysoulangel @lyarr24 @spxideyver @impala67rollingthroughtown @panickedbitch @deansimpalababy @livya99 @yvonneeeee @ladykitana90 @stoneyggirl2 @imsiriuslyreal @panickedbitch @roseblue373 @n-o-p-e-never @ariasong11 @lmpala1967 @sherlockstrangewolf @spnaquakindgdom @writtenbyhollywood @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @healojane

[dufferpuffer]

What makes you say that Remus gets facts wrong or has put the class behind schedule? JKR describes him in an interview as a wonderful teacher (if you take much stock in her opinion), and the criticisms Snape has of him in the substitute teacher episode are just not well supported. For one thing, it's Snape who falsely tells a student that Kappas are from Mongolia. When he criticizes the progress of Harry's class, he a) doesn't give any consideration for the useless professors they'd previously had, and b) is already well known for setting unreasonable expectations. The students think Remus is great because he gives engaging lessons, not necessarily because he is objectively the best, but if Hermione never criticizes the pace of the class, then he's probably doing fine there as well. As far as disorganization, I can believe that Remus didn't leave good notes for Snape. However, Snape admits this isn’t actually a hindrance--he's just finding something to complain about to help cure the class of their love for Professor Lupin.

Snape's behavior in the chapter is a good example of why Snape's obvious contempt discourages other characters from engaging with him in good faith. Also, it's totally consistent with his character to take an opportunity to leverage the little power he has in response to Dumbledore putting someone he considers dangerous in a teacher's position. Personally I think JKR's accomplishment here is that Snape's hatred of Remus bounces between reasonable and unreasonable as we continue gathering information about Snape vs. the Marauders. Actually it's just fun in general to reread the series and see where Snape was right and where he was wrong.

What makes me say Remus gets facts wrong or put the class behind schedule... It is Snape's observation, mainly - I trust what he has to say - supported by what we see in Remus' classes.

Severus has been a teacher for 13 years and produces students with high level marks. He is a good teacher, just one not every student meshes with - and he doesn't adjust to suit stragglers. It's probably his biggest weakness as a teacher, other than being an asshole.

His critiques of Remus' class are:

'As I was saying before Potter interrupted, Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far-' 'Please, sir, we've done Boggarts, Red Caps, Kappas and Grindy-lows,' said Hermione quickly, 'and we're just about to start -' 'Be quiet,' said Snape coldly. 'I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin's lack of organisation.'

Lupin has left no notes for Snape despite knowing the schedule of every full moon for the year. He didn't tell Severus what they were up to or what activity he wanted the class to do - he hasn't even kept a record of what they have already completed up until this point.

That's disorganization. That's not knowing where they will get up to next week or the week after, despite having a schedule. Hermione is keeping better track of the class than Lupin is.

Could Snape be lying to the students about his disorganisation? That would be out of character, especially since the students don't give a shit about such a thing. That detail irks Severus, not the kids. He's just havin' a bit of a whinge.

If Remus had written a note he could have torn it up, complained that they are behind and set Werewolves as their task. No reason to lie.

'You are easily satisfied. Lupin is hardly over-taxing you - I would expect first-years to be able to deal with Red Caps and Grindylows. Today we shall discuss -'

Could Snape be being hyperbolic here? Yes. I expect him to be. Is Snape a hardass that wants a lot from his students? Yep. Does Snape want to make what Remus teaches them to seem babyish, and his lesson more grown-up and important? Absolutely. Does that mean he is lying? No.

I don't think he is the sort to be too hyperbolic. He wouldn't be out here saying 'I expect a first-year to be able to brew a Draught of Living Death' or something. He never expects the impossible. Whether Red Caps and Grindylows are first, second or third year topics - I believe him when he says they are below their level.

'Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognise a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are…'

...This is harder to tell how serious it is. I don't think they would have been at Werewolves yet. Severus is teaching it out of necessity - would Remus ever do it...? Risk outing himself with his own two hands? I doubt it. Severus is also eager to teach it ASAP because he suspects Remus is a dangerous man working with a serial killer.

So does he seriously think that midway through the year a third year class should know how to identify a werewolf - or does he just want to tell Dumbledore he thinks Remus is avoiding it when he should be focusing on it for the students own wellbeing…? Could go either way tbh. Or both. (Hermione knew the answer but I don't really count that as proof lol)

[…]Snape prowled up and down the rows of desks, examining the work they had been doing with Professor Lupin. 'Very poorly explained … that is incorrect, the Kappa is more commonly found in Mongolia … Professor Lupin gave this eight out of ten? I wouldn't have given it three …'

You say Snape falsely told a student Kappa are from Mongolia. He didn't - he says they are more commonly found there. I don't see any reason not to believe him…? Why would he be spouting incorrect facts around students?

Lupin prioritizes student comfort. Snape prioritizes student learning. Remus is more likely to get facts wrong. Snape is more likely to piss people off. Remus is more likely to mark forgivingly - an 8/10. Snape is more likely to mark strictly - a 3/10.

It all lines up pretty well.

Remus' first lesson is poorly organised and he is lenient with points. He lets a Boggart loose amongst students without planning for every student getting a turn (Hermione misses out). He hadn't planned for Harry's fear ahead of time, or the risk of anyone else in the class finding Voldemort a little too much. He put his own secret at risk by revealing his own fear, which Hermione uses to work out he is a werewolf.

'Excellent, Neville. Well done, everyone. Let me see … five points to Griffindor for every person to tackle the Boggart - ten for Neville because he did it twice - and five each to Hermione and Harry.'

He smooths everything over by giving out house points like candy. He is giving out points to Griffindor for doing classwork…? Whats next, points for tying their shoelaces?

Professor Lupin smiled at the look of indignation on every face. 'Don't worry. I'll speak to Professor Snape. You don't have to do the essay.'

This gets me lol - he's happy they're all pissed off at having to do a big assignment, so he just cancels it. The sheer disrespect...

He could have shortened the length, or pushed back the due date, or dedicated another class to the topic, or even said 'well Professor Snape has his own way of teaching, if he set an assignment I'm sure it's because he thought you could handle it'. Nah. He wants to be the cool teacher that can boss Snape around.

I love the idea that he went to 'speak to Professor Snape' about it. What did he say...? 'Nice try, Sev - I'm cancelling it. B^)'

I don't put much stock into interview responses. The information needs to be at least published in some sort of 'official' format. People can say anything in the spur of the moment.

That being said - Remus WAS a wonderful teacher. I think he was a true natural at it and did a brilliant job overall. His stand-out skills are exactly the things Severus is bad at: connecting with students and encouraging them in ways that suit their individual needs. Remus is a people person and loves the chance to help rather than cause harm.

But he was also a first year teacher teaching a core subject. He was taking at least 2 days off a month and many days off-colour. I wouldn't expect perfection from him, and what Severus critiques (behind on schedule, disorganised, some incorrect information, overly forgiving marking) all sounds like new teacher mistakes. (honestly name a teacher who remains on schedule the whole year irl lol)

It is fun to reread and see where Severus was right and wrong. Especially since on a first read he seems so very wrong, always getting in Harry's way… but most of the time is right, or at least acting very reasonably with the information he has. PoA is a story where he was very wrong. Remus was not working with a serial killer, did not want Harry dead, wasn't working all that hard to bring Harry 'over to his side' (he was sorta annoyingly aloof) and was actually a trustworthy individual and a good teacher - just with a different methodology.

But I don't think that means Severus' observations of Remus' teacher habits were incorrect or grossly hyperbolic. He was looking for evidence that helped substantiated and supported his theories.

[ethereacals]

so american <3

Chapter Four: Operation: Get Him Back!

synopsis: Remus grows attached to an American transfer student from Ilvermorny

trope: idiots in love, grumpy x sunshine

pairing: remus lupin x american!reader

(R is alluded and mentioned to be in gryffindor)

content: r and remus are seperated ):, but not for long <3

wc: 1.2k

series masterlist

a/n; happy valentines day!

EVERYTHING WENT WRONG so quickly.

And you were still trying to wrap your head around the situation regarding Remus.

“I trust you, Remus.”

“Can I kiss you— Remus?”

“I—I don’t want to force you to do anything—“

He lashed out.

“Why do you want to kiss me? Out of everyone?” He moved himself back a bit, and you frowned softly.

You were drunk and still recovering from your closet incident.

“You don’t want to kiss Sirius?”

“I— no I don’t want to kiss him! I’m asking you!”

“Y/n, you don’t want to kiss me.”

“Remus—“

“Y/n, you don’t want to kiss me.”

“If you don’t like me, Remus. You can just say it.”

“I’m just protecting you!”

“Protecting me from what?”

“Myself!”

“Why?”

“ ‘Cause i’m a bloody Werewolf, okay?”

Once Remus had realized what he said— silence fell upon both of you.

“Remus..—“

“I have to go.”

“No— please— Remus—“

“I’m dangerous, Y/n. And if you’re smart, you’ll never speak to me again.”

Never speak to him again? Absolutely not.

Were you a bit bold in asking him to kiss you so abruptly? Absolutely, but why did Remus assume you weren’t being truthful and wished to kiss someone else?

And why did he run away?

Did he mean to say he was a were-wolf?

You needed to know more, and potentially bridge the gap between yourself and the boy of your dreams.

But where to start?

So, you came up with a plan. (after you spent hours being inconsolable, [sorry, dorcas.])

Operation: get him back.

First; You needed to speak with Sirius (or James, he works too.) immediately, figure out if Remus really is what he said he was.

Second; Explain to Lily your situation, perhaps she would know how to make amends? They do study together.

and Third; Regain your friendship with Remus and vow to never fall in love with him ever again.

That third step will be the hardest.

"JAMES!"

The bespectacled boy quickly pivoted to lay his eyes on you.

"Y/n? What's the matter?" He strutted across the common room towards you, and Remus shared some uncomfortable eye-contact with you for a moment.

"Um.. we need to talk somewhere... private." You urged, all while ushering him away and into the portrait hole near the entrance.

"Merlin, seriously- what's all of the fuss about?" He whined.

"It's about Remus, last night- He took me to the Boathouse after the whole incident with Lockhart and- I was stupid and jumped the gun and asked him to kiss me-"

"Stop, you asked him to kiss you?" James gawked.

"Yes, now-"

"That's rich."

"Stop interrupting me!" You snapped.

"The point is, Remus freaked out and blurted out that he was a.. a werewolf- and ran off and I don't know what to do and-"

"Calm down, okay? Wow, that is incredibly unlike Remus to just blurt that out." James perceived from your situation.

"What do I do?"

"I'll talk to him, try to help him sort out his feelings."

"Godric bless you, James Potter." You patted his cheek in thanks.

"Mum always told me I was a god-send." He beamed, clearly a bit full of himself but you know what they say- James had an ego the size of a lake but a heart to match it.

"Do make sure he knows that I'm not... like- against lycanthropes?" You suggested gingerly.

"I'll make sure." James grinned, before going back to his company.

First step- Complete.

REMUS IS EXTREMELY AND irrevocably torn.

It's been three days since you have spoken, three.

And he's beside himself with how upset he is.

He didn't mean to lash out, he really didn't.

"Remus! That's the girl of your dreams!" Sirius argued from across the couch.

"Maybe, she was meant to be- but I fucked everything up!" Remus took a long sip from his fire-whisky.

"Then go un-fuck everything up!" Peter cheered, clearly missing the memo.

"It's not that easy! I told her about my- problem.. and she probably doesn't want anything to do with me anymore!" Remus defended.

"No, mate. She distincively told me that she had no problem with your problem." James explained simply.

"Ha! I knew she wouldn't care!" Sirius barked.

"Still, I told her to never speak to me ever again."

"Ooh.. that's low, mate." Peter ceased his mindless celebration and silently judged Remus' life descisions all while taking a bit out of his bread.

"Do you think I don't know that?"

"Well- you need to fix it! Both of you need too!" Sirius slammed his hand down on the coffee table.

"I know- but how?" Remus sighed, his face falling into her hands.

"Perhaps when you have to meet for astronomy?" James suggested. "That's not till Saturday." "At the Slytherin Vs. Gryffindor game?" Sirius pointed out. "She might not even go." "Send her a lovely letter from an anonymous sender to meet somewhere rather romantic and pretty?" Peter joked, but Remus' face lit up.

"Yes! Peter, you are a genius!"

"What did I say?" Peter asked, confused.

But Remus couldn't find time to respond, as he rushed to his parchment and quill.

This was going to be the best damn letter ever written.

"SO, REMUS ISN'T SPEAKING to you, hm?" Lily combed her fingers through your hair.

"I totally messed everything up." You cupped your face into your hands.

"No- honey, you didn't. Everyone was a bit intoxicated and you should never feel the need to apologize for liking someone." She wrapped her arms around you consolingly.

"I don't know what I would do without you, Lily." You smiled softly.

"Same to you, lovely." Lily cooed, brushing a stray hair out of your face.

"What do I do, Lily?"

"Well... Remus does like chocolate." She suggested wirily.

"But what kind?" You turned to face her.

"Well he loved Galaxy Minstrels, but that's a muggle chocolate-"

"I'll get him those then." You announced.

"Y/N, Galaxy Minstrels aren't sold at Hogsmeade." Lily warned, an expression of concern for your determination.

"Those are his favorites, right? I'm getting those for him come hell or high water." You insisted, and Lily couldn't hold back her smile.

"You're going to bribe him with chocolate?" She chuckled softly.

"Exactly." You smirked, a wicked smirk if Lily had any input.

A FEW DAYS LATER, the chocolates so graciously provided by your parents arrived.

And you had recieved a letter from someone to meet you by the Black Lake after hours.

And with some help from Lily (and a hint from James), you were almost certain it was from Remus.

You had flowers and chocolates in hand, and you looked like you had just stepped out of a grocery store with an post-valentines sale.

You were nervous, understandably so.

As the Black Lake came into view under the star-stricken night sky- he came into view.

Remus, and was it a relief to actually be able to speak with him again.

You stood infront of eachother, silent as a grave.

Godric, let this go well.

Tune in next time on; so american (:

(this one is a bit short, i've got cool stuff in the works!)

so american taglist;

@hisparentsgallerryy @lydpop @amatoanima @po3tbbygirl @thequeen0fhearts @yourlittlefries @jsprien213 @liviessun @wandasbitch22 @michtellch @hellokitty-girl666 @bmyva1entine @n1ght-vngel @anehkael @wolfstcr @assorted-knives @mrsblackx @moonyswifee @sunset-toast @sammyreid @wsplalala @msfandomsblog @yimthesynonym @flowerytombx @rubyinthebooks @

[deadhands69]

Cute When You Stutter

loser!Shigaraki x gn/afab Reader

prev ◁ part 5 (final)

[series masterlist]

The league headquarters are quiet tonight, almost too quiet. Everyone has plans for Valentine’s day. Toga is out with her girlfriend. Dabi is doing whatever Dabi usually does at night. Even Spinner managed to score a date with his cute discord friend. 

Well, almost everyone has Valentine’s plans. Not you. Posting so many pictures with your boss, pretending to date him, then burning every bridge you know absolutely cemented your lack of a date or even friend hangout this year. 

Even Shigaraki has been pretty quiet tonight, making almost no noise in his room and you’re not entirely sure if you want to know what he’s doing in there. You’re almost certain he doesn’t have a date either though because you’ve never seen him voluntarily talk to anyone outside of the league. You also left a massive hickey on his neck two days ago which may be a slight deterrent for some people (Toga later asked you if you did this on purpose to keep Tomura to yourself, but admittedly you were just drunk and weren’t thinking that far ahead.)

Maybe it’s boredom or loneliness from being in your room alone all day, but you decide to see what he’s up to. Knocking a few more times than you normally would, you yell out “hey, it’s me,” before making your way into his room.

“Hey,” you walk in to find him on the floor surrounded in legos, sorted by color. “Want some help?”

He debates for a moment before nodding and handing you one of the instruction sheets. You sit quietly in the space next to him, glad for the company. 

“Thanks for hanging out tonight,” you say, pulling a few pieces from the red pile.

“Mmmhm.”

He turns to you with one side of his mouth quirked up in a smile. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him close.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Hugging you. Is that okay?” You can’t imagine why it wouldn’t be, considering that he let you sit on his face yesterday. 

“Yeah, it’s just different,” he mumbles into your shoulder, “usually you only get close when you want something or you’re messing with me.”

“I’m not messing with you. At least, not always.” 

He pulls back, looking at you incredulously. “Why else would you do stuff like this? I’m not stupid, I know you just like to fuck with me.” 

“Of course I do, you’re cute when you’re flustered. It’s not like I don’t get anything out of it too though.”

Tomura doesn’t respond, busying himself with a few green blocks as the tips of his ears turn pink. 

A few minutes later, your creation begins to take shape.

“Flowers?” you ask, amused. “You don’t really strike me as the type to decorate with lego flowers.”

“They’re not for me,” he mutters in response.

“Oh yeah? Then who are they for?” You realize the answer immediately after the words leave your mouth. You’re the only person he has ever shown interest in, who else would they be for? He bites his lip, blushing profusely as he stares at you. 

“You were making me flowers, even if you thought I only spent time with you as a joke?” 

“Kind of,” he searches for a specific yellow piece before continuing, “I never actually thought I had a chance with you. But seeing everything this week, I figured you probably don’t have anyone else to buy you flowers. And you’re really cool so someone should. Why not me?”

He looks hurt for a moment before focusing hard on getting a piece to fit properly. 

You think back, trying to remember the last time anyone ever bothered to be this nice to you. Yet here he is doing so without any expectations. Spending hours putting together an expensive lego bouquet when he could easily have just bought you cheap gas station flowers or done nothing at all.

“They’re beautiful,” you whisper, “thanks.”

He smiles at you, subtly scratching his neck. “And you don’t owe me anything for them. Not that I mind everything you’ve been doing, but you don’t have to.”

“No?” you ask, moving a strand of pale blue hair out of his face, “but what if I want to?”

Bringing your lips to his feels natural at this point. You’ve done it so many times now that it’s all you want to do, but it still feels so new to you. He kisses you back with confidence you've only seen him show in battle. You climb onto his lap, legs straddling each side of him.

Your hand slides up his chest, wrapping lightly around his throat. As your thumb brushes over the new scratches, he leans into the touch. Tentatively, you give a little squeeze. He moans. You make a mental note to come back to that sometime. For now, you selfishly want him to last long enough to get yourself off too. 

As the two of you begin to make out more passionately, you drag yourself over his thigh. You're careful not to press too far forward into the tent forming in his pants; remembering how fast he came yesterday. He gets the idea quickly, grabbing your hips with two fingers and a thumb to press you harder into him. Without much contact, he’s already breathing heavily along with you.

You scoot back to pull your shirt off. Slowing down the motion, you watch as his jaw drops at the sight. He fumbles removing his own shirt, decaying it in the process. Like you suspected, he's hot. His baggy clothes covering how toned he is.

“F-fuck,” Tomura mumbles as you slide your shorts off. 

Without wasting time, you find your way back onto his lap. He looks up at you through messy hair, mouth agape and eyelids heavy. You take a second to run your hands over his abs and chest, memorizing the feel of every scratch and scar along the way. When you reach the hem of his sweatpants, you pull them halfway down his thighs along with his underwear. Running your fingers over his length, you give him a few firm strokes. He closes his eyes, hips jumping at your touch. Still grasping him in one hand, you line yourself up and little by little, you lower onto his surprisingly perfect dick. Reaching his base, you pause in amazement. Taking in how how perfectly he fits into you. If you’d known that, you would have stumbled into his room the first time you heard him moan your name while he touched himself at night.

Better late than never though.

As you should have expected, he cums almost immediately. Gripping your hips, his head falls forward as he chokes back a groan. 

“Ah shit,” he pants, “‘m sorry.”

After some reassurance that you take it as a huge compliment, he’s hard again and ready to go.

Once more, you slowly ease your way down him as he stretches you perfectly in the right places. Taking things slow, you lean forward and kiss him. His unruly hair tickles against your nose. He adapts to your slow movements quickly. Since meeting you, he’s gotten better at this, moving his lips gently to dance against yours. 

Emotions flood in, overwhelming you. He’s the grouchiest loser and the sweetest boy you’ve ever met. The symbol of fear who completely melts at the slightest bit of affection from you. His hands destroy everything he touches but you've never felt anything but safe with him. All of the details of Tomura conflict and make sense at the same time, forming into the complex person whimpering sweetly against your lips. 

You rock your hips into his, barely having to move to hit the sweet spot that sends warm tingles through your whole body.

“[y/n], fuck you feel so good,” he whines. 

“This what you imagined every night?” you tease, bouncing faster as your excitement grows.

“B-better,” he gasps. 

He looks so pretty like this. Flushed skin and kiss-swollen lips. He stares up at you with big red eyes, trying desperately not to cum again but you know he’s close.

Fortunately, you are too.

With another snap of your hips, you find yourself crumbling around him. Your movements stutter before slamming down to engulf all of him. This time it’s your turn to grasp his shoulders to keep yourself upright. He lets go at the sight, smashing his face into yours as you both moan into a sloppy kiss. Your breathing slows, you begin to come down, but your lips continue to trace over each other.

“I’ll be right back,” you kiss him again before pressing yourself from the floor to go clean up. You revel in the way he leans wantonly into your every touch, even when he’s on the verge of sleep. 

When you get back to his room, Tomura has collapsed into his bed, passed out from the evening. You’re not far behind. Climbing in next to him, he unconsciously wraps an arm around you.

Laying in his bed surrounded in bags of trash, stray legos, and energy drink cans, you realize you'll have to teach him about cleaning tomorrow.

Through the walls, you listen as everyone slowly trickles in for the night. One by one, they all make their way back to their rooms. 

But not you. 

This time you stay.

↺ series masterlist - bnha masterlist

taglist: @shigarakislaughter @kalulakunundrum @jimabbenamara @aryuunachigiri