#yeah the whole “you try to leave town but something always happens to prevent you from leaving‚ like car troubles” bit definitely

[alfhildr-the-word-weaver]

So I started watching Wandavision tonight, and I do already know some spoilers just from being around on tumblr when it first came out, but we just got through episode 3 and it's hitting me. Basically, this is Storybrooke and Wanda is Regina.

Except instead of taking away everyone else's happy endings, she's just trying to give herself her own. But really, that was what Regina was trying to do too, and it's definitely seeming like Wanda has also taken away the happy endings of others, intentionally or not. So in its essence, this is like Once Upon a Time for comic book characters (but without everyone turning up being related somehow ;) lol).

[agirlwholovesrockstars]

°𝄞 𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 °𝄞

☆ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙵𝚒𝚟𝚎 ☆

"You're from another time, are you?"

♬♪ 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 ♬♪

ᯓ★ previous chapter | next chapter ★ᯓ

✶࿐ Summary : you're getting the hang of it all but why does it seems to backfire everytime you try to prevent it?

✶࿐ Word Count : I hope the length is fine

✶࿐ Warnings : 18+ Eddie Munson x Future!FEM!reader, cursing, use of y/n, time travel, upside down, mentions of bullying, toxic!boyfriend, false accusation, heated argument, slight allusions to r*cism, Aaron is one of Jason's goons, this will have a brief Gareth's POV, reader being a hopeless romantic, Chrissy and reader blossoming friendship, Jason Carver once again reoccurring lol, everyone is afraid to leave one alone, NO SPOILERS! 🤭

✶࿐ What to Expect : ANGST AND FLUFF!, comedy, romance, fantasy, sci-fic, reader lives in 2024!

✶࿐ Note To Reader : y'all this is only the beginning of the angst! the next part will go crazy too but you're going to love it, I promise you that! ;))

✶࿐ Author Note : this is all you've been waiting for the Wanted! Eddie hiding everywhere as he possibly can but....a hint of him and readers relationship perhaps? 👀

𓆩♱𓆪 𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𓆩♱𓆪

❦ 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙖'𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙥𝙖𝙜𝙚 ❦

"Y/N?" he says softly laced with concern

Your eyes stings from the tears that are gathering in your waterline as you try to remain your composure

"H-Hi- I-I'm sorry, I just needed some air" you voice cracks as you tried to hide your face away from Eddie's sight

He looked back at Steve's house and back to you, "Did the news made you upset?"

It shivers you timbers from the words that he just said, you avoided that to happen right?

Does it bound to happen to him?

Does it meant to happen to him?

Whatever you do to cement that event it always finds its way to ruin his life?

"It shouldn't be like this" you frustratedly said as you sniffle

"Jason has always been like that, sweetheart, you don't have to be upset, I'm used to it" he walks over to you by the front so he can see you properly

Oh, poor him, he has no idea, he doesn't know, he doesn't know what's coming

"E-Eddie, this is different from what Jason has done to you"

"How different?"

"He wanted to do something else to you, something that is inhumane"

He chuckles dryly, "Y/N, the whole town knows that I am a trailer trash and a school freak, this is no new to me-"

"This is no laughing matter, Eddie, I am upset because I made sure this won't happen to you and to anyone who is affected by the cause of it"

He has now become shaken by the change of your tone and he knows your mind might overdrive at how many non-stop thoughts going through your head

"Wait, you said it before that I can't walk around freely...."

You watch him as he begin to place the puzzles into his mind

"Is it happening now?"

"Y-Yes"

"Fuck- w-what should we do?"

Before you can answer, Dustin, Steve everyone emerge outside as they quickly went to their respective vehicles

"What's going on?"

"It's Lucas, he needs a lift before Jason catch him" Steve runs a stressful hand through his hair as he goes in the driver's seat

"Do you know something about this, Y/N?" Dustin asks you before he throws his bagpack into the passenger's seat

"Yeah, I do, I'm coming with you-"

Without any word, Eddie takes your hand and leads you to his van, you saw how determined he is to make this all of this shit go away

You would've been blushed by the way he snaps in your seatbelt despite under the circumstances

All of you drove off to find Lucas and hopefully....

Hopefully, that he is safe

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"He is a fucking traitor"

"I'm gonna break his face"

"Not even a traitor but a liar too"

"What-"

"You know what he said back in our place right? that he knew about D&D shit but he just changes his answer that his younger sister was the one who is playing it, we've been fooled"

"Deceived, we we're deceived by him"

Patrick and Aaron both looked at him in the rearview mirror

"This....This is a part of their doing, don't you guys see it? they're deceitful because they're doing the devil's work"

"How are we able to stop them?"

"Yeah, we don't even know where they are"

Jason laughs evilly, "Don't worry, fellas, I already erupted a plan and it will work"

He then turns on the radio and it's revealed that he's the one who started it all

The rumor, the false rumor that the town is still carrying for all of these years, a lot of conspiracies circled around throughout the years

But this time? You will never ever allow it to happen

No matter it could cost your life

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"El? You got a phone call"

"From who?"

"It's your friends back in Hawkins" Joyce places a big smile on her face, El lighted up but slowly fades slightly as she already knew the call what is for

She looked back at Will who is already staring at her who is thinking the same thing

El stands up from the couch as Will takes her hand and squeeze for a reassurance that everything is going to be okay

Joyce gave El a gentle hold on her shoulder as she hands her the phone, she gave her a small smile as she leaves

"Hello?"

"Hi"

The voice, she doesn't recognize this voice, she never heard of it, but why does it feel that she is close to you?

"I-I'm Y/N by the way, I'm with your friends, they're here, and I'm sorry that I disturb you at this hour, it's just- it's important that I have to call you"

"You're from another time? are you?"

Will gave her a confused look but then he starts to put all the pieces together from what she just told him

It all makes sense now

You steady your breath but also you're perplexed as to why she already knew, "Y-Yeah- wait, how'd you know?"

"It's kinda hard to explain but I could tell you soon but why did you call?"

"Hopper.... Hopper is alive"

She almost dropped the phone and you can hear her staggering breathing, "W-what did you just say?"

"He's alive a-and Joyce and Murray are embarking on a mission to rescue and find him and Yuri is the guy who is a charlatan, he's untrustworthy but-"

"B-but- but- w-what"

"He's the only guy who can take them off from where Hopper is, I just- I'm so sorry, if I'm saying this to you now-"

"N-No, it's fine, you're from the future and I actually thought highly of you"

"Really?"

"Yeah, I know my friends are safe when they're with you"

You smile for a second as you become serious again, "El, I know it isn't my place to say something about what you're dealing with and you don't know me but I understand how you feel at school because I was also at your shoes too, already dreading the day heading to school and it's.....very hard to mingle with other people who doesn't have any interest with you"

A faint tear slides through El's cheek as she takes a shaky breath, you can hear her sniffle behind the phone as you smile empathetically as if she can see you

"But one thing I know is for sure is that you don't have to put pressure on yourself just so you can be liked by other people who doesn't even deserve your wants as a friend"

There's a couple of beats of silence and you begin to think that you might have crossed over too much until she spoke again

"T-Thank you, Y/N, that's very kind of you to say, it helped me eases out what just happened earlier today" she chuckles lightly as you huff over the receiver

You looked over at your side, Dustin who is waiting impatiently, you roll your eyes playfully at him, "It's nice talking to you, El, I hope I can meet you and take care"

"You too, Y/N"

"Oh, Dustin wants to talk to you-" "Gimme that!" El giggles at the urgency and the rustling sounds of the cord

"Was it always like that?"

"Like what?"

"It feels so weirdly natural talking to her"

"Oh- god, tell me about it, everybody does but El, she's real, we can trust her"

"I know"

"El....I think the gates are opening up once again"

"What?!?"

Dustin gives El all of the full details of what just happened recently and the fact that it's not even one week yet when it feels like it's been so many things already happened around the town

Before he ends the call, El told him that he will tell it to everyone at home

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"We don't even know if we could trust him" Dustin mutters as he averts his eyes to somewhere else as Steve tries to extinguish the tension between the two teens

"Dude, if you got something to say-" Lucas stood up and Max alerted from the sudden action as she darts her eyes back to him and Dustin

"Okay, guys back up-" Steve tried to hold off Dustin but he swats his hands off of him as he walks forward to Lucas

"Lucas, don't-" Max saids firmly as she gives him a look but he needs this confrontation

"You know all what you care for is yourselves" Lucas presses as Dustin grips his fists

"Oh, how dare you to call us selfish when you fucking left us in the first place because of your stupid dream"

"Can't you just look harder??? Dustin??? You're so self-centered that you thought anyone around you is doing okay-"

Dustin pushed him by the chest and then Lucas pushes him harder knocking him off but before he hits the ground Steve catches him

You, Eddie, Chrissy, Gareth, Jeff, Lewis, Robin, Nancy and Fred overheard the rise of their voices across from the gasoline station as all of you ran out to them leaving the payphone behind

"Hey! Knock it off the both of you!"

You blocked them in the middle as you stand there looking at them in disappointment

"What happened?!?" Eddie demands as he looks at everyone

Steve huffs, "These two got into a fight, I tried to stop them-"

"You should've have let me-" Dustin tries to reach out to Lucas but you guarded him

"That's enough, kid!" Steve angrily pulls Dustin away from Lucas

"I wish I was never your friend!"

"All I wanted was all of you to support me instead the rest of you are bitter about it!"

"I said quit it!" You shout out loud making them shut up

"Dustin, you overlooked him-"

"He fucking ditched us! Y/N!"

"It's because he is goddamn tired of being bullied all the time! I can't even fucking blame him for it and just hear him for a moment?!?"

Lucas was surprised that you chose his side, he is now grew even more fond of you

"Correction, Dustin, he didn't leave all of you, he was still there but all of you guys ever did was to rant about him being with his sports friends, of course, he will get drained dealing about it, you didn't even care for once what he might even feel like when that's not only what he was trying to endure"

Your words crack through Dustin's rage as he calms himself down, Steve sighs as he places his hands over his hips in a stressful manner

"and now, he is here and he is back and you're pushing him away again because he realized that the people that he met in there he thought might be good like his old friends are but it doesn't, Dustin, he didn't forget about all of you, he just wants you to be there for him no matter what he wanted to reach for his goals, he just wants you to let him"

Dustin pursed both of his lips as he tries not to breakdown and cry in front all of you as he nods in understanding of your words

Lucas ducks his head down as he quietly sobs and Max rubs his back gently, she feels like she owe him an apology and she felt guilty, your words strucked her too

"What the fuck are you guys fighting for when there's a big- erase that- huge problem is among us"

You throw your hands up as you scratch your forehead and shook your head sideways, you're slightly mad at the both of them but also glad that they finally got that shit out of their away

This is why communication is always important in every relationship

"Now, let's go before the cops find Eddie"

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"You might get me into trouble, my friend"

"I told you they're keeping monsters inside of that and we're the bait!"

"Keep your voice down!"

"Have you located it?"

"Why should I believe you?"

"I'm telling the truth"

Enzo thinks for a moment as he keeps on stealth mode as they continue to walk to bring back all the prisoners inside of the compound

"He told me that they're on their way"

Hopper looks at him in a brief second as he catches the hopeful glint on his eyes as he kept calm as Enzo locks the bars

"You better not cross me"

"I will not, I just want to get home and be with my family"

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"How's the trip with the girls?"

Chrissy almost yelped in shock as she clutches her chest when Jason opens up the light in the living room

"Jason!" She speaks breathy as she stabilized her beating heart

"Hey darlin" he grins as he walks slowly towards her, Chrissy on the other hand tries not to show nervousness in front of him knowing that all of you are waiting inside of Eddie's van on 3 blocks ahead from where she's at

"Hello- uh- h-how did you get in?" She gulps as she felt the sides of his fingertips brushing her cheeks

Chrissy loved Jason, really, she loved him, despite his awful behavior towards other students she still accepts him even though she admit it without a second thought in her heart when he does make their lives miserable, she is ashamed of it all

And now, that feeling, grew more even stronger, the fact something tells her that he's the one who caused all of this

She might not be surprised at it because she already knew that Jason would do something like that, the trust that she has on him is fading away and it disappoints her

"I picked the lock" he shrugs as if he did not just committed a crime

He fucking trespassed???? What the hell???

"Jason, you know that's against the law-"

"Are you saying that I got no right to check on my girlfriend?"

"N-No, that's not what I- I mean! you could've- just- called-"

Chrissy saw the red-rimmed tint on his eyes, a sign that he hasn't got any sleep and his aura screams lethal fucking danger

She tries her best not to be uncomfortable around him but he is making it hard not to

He stops walking around her for a second, he turns his whole body at her, towering over her as they both walked backward until Chrissy's back hits the wall

"You're not lying to me, are you?" He emphasize the word as he kept his eyes on her

Oh, Chrissy knows how bad when Jason gets mad, all he sees is red whenever he has it

"No-"

"If I catch you lying, you know I hate liars, honey"

Before the fear eats her up, she coos at him, "Baby, I think you need to rest, you don't want to be cranky in the morning" she says sweetly but deep inside??? She is terrified if this won't work

Jason licks his lips as he sighs deeply, "Hmm"

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Of course, you need to rest as well too"

Both of them said their goodbye's as she watches him leave with his car, she can't believe that she stopped breathing air for all of that stuff that she did to Jason

Chrissy went stomping upstairs heading at her bedroom as she begins to pack everything that she needed

Her parents are not always available during weekdays, so, she's got all the house by herself as she locks the door properly, she might even change the damn lock after all of this business with the upside down is over

Out of the blue, she bumped into someone, she almost screeched that it could waken the entire neighborhood

"Hey, it's me!"

Chrissy rips out the hand away from her mouth as she pushes him, "Gareth! You scared me half to life!"

He chuckles nervously, "I'm sorry but uh- for forgiveness? I could carry your bag" he offers

She huffs as she hands out the bag and motion at him to get on walking

The walk to Eddie's van had a minute to get there, it was windy and moonlight shines prettily

Gareth is walking beside her, glancing at her every moment that he can, he likes the way her hair falls so effortlessly, the long sleeves are too big for her as she always scrunching it up to her arms

The silence is taking so long, he might not be even to talk to her soon

He clears his throat, "Are you okay?" He genuinely asks as he waits for answer patiently

She looks at her with that sad glint on her eyes, she lets out an exhausting sigh, she shakes her head as she looks back at the path in the sidewalk, "No, I am not" she crosses both of her arms

He tugs up a small smile and then it is not his intention to eavesdrop at their conversation earlier but he doesn't understand yet that he feels upset that douchebag Jason treats her like that, "Is he always like that to you?"

"Well, if he's in a good mood, no, but I don't know anymore-" she answers absent-mindedly as she halts her tracks also Gareth stopping at the same time

"Are you listening to us over there?!?" She pokes at his chest so harshly that making him exclaim with pain that made Chrissy rolls her eyes

"Hey, that hurt!"

"What are you even doing outside anyway?!?"

"I just wanted to look out for you!"

Chrissy is taken aback at that as she looks at him up and down as she raises her eyebrow

Oof, Gareth is in big trouble now

Gareth cheeks turns into tinge pink as he swallows hard, "Y-You know after all what Y/N has done for you, of course, it is normal for me to feel worried for you-"

Chrissy is amused at this as she nods slowly as she turns her back to continue walking

Gareth smacks his forehead as he jogs up behind her

"It doesn't mean anything-"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, doofus"

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"You got everything that you need?"

"Yeah, I do"

"You really can't stay over at my house?"

You smile gratefully at him, "I can't, Steve, I'm sorry- but thanks for the suggestion though"

He nods in understanding but you know that he is worried for you, it is evident on his eyes, the way he looks at you, it always lingers

"Okay, but please, do call me, if anything happens"

"Noted"

He gives you a side hug as he picks up the paper plates as all of you eat dinner at the Rick Reefer's house where Eddie thinks it's the best place to hideout

It is covered in the woods, but still you're not so confident that you can both stay here, it is better to be careful with every move and always alerted

You told everyone that they can go home and be on their own now but it seems like anyone else can't leave one another after all they just witnessed

It is not so easy to just move on and act like nothing happened but no matter you try to protest, they stick with you at the end

Steve said the rest will stay over at his house, Chrissy on the other hand wants to be with you, he lets her knowing that you knew much more what was going on with her than he does

"What are you still doing here?"

You opened up the garbage bag as you put all of the canned soda on it, "I volunteered to stay with you"

Perplexed expression is written on his face as he finishes the last drop of his soda as he reaches the bag out of your hands, "Why?"

"This fucking guy, I swear to god, why does he want me to just spit it out" you think to yourself

"It's because I know what will happen to you remember? I'm from the future, so, it is important that I should be here" you snatched off the bag out of his hands as you walk past over to him cleaning out every trash that you see

The sound of the cans makes a clinking sound as the blurred conversations from the kids can be heard on the living room with very dim lights on

You went at the backdoor as he follows you out as you throw the bag in the garbage can

"Don't you want to be at Steve's?"

"Why are you asking too many questions, Eddie?"

"My bad, it's just-"

"What?"

"I think I'm new to all of this- uh- kindness" he rubs the back of his neck as he averts his eyes elsewhere

His sudden shyness is always endearing to you that it made your eyes soften, "Well, Eddie, I think this is called helping, I am helping you"

"Why would you do that? I didn't asked for you-"

"You don't have to because I wanted to"

He tilts his head at that as he takes in your words, oh- god- help- almighty, you saw how his eyes flickers into something that you can't read yet

No, you're from the future, he's from the past, you're being delusional, it is impossible to happen

The moment your hair gets into your face because of the cool night air wooshed in the area, you're about to tuck it behind your air but you felt someone else's touch

It's him, it's Eddie, Eddie fucking Munson

You furrowed your brows when you watched him step closer to you, he looks at you so dreamily that you absolutely swore that he memorized every single thing in your features

You have been this close, hell- you went to bed with him the other day, your heart might stopped beating soon, you get another whiff from his musk cologne and its making it hard

You thought he is finished with him tucking your hair behind your ear, but he moves down to your cheek as he holds it and he lets it there

You're so extremely so fucking confused right now but also the same time???? You're baffled that you're experiencing this and it's Eddie Munson

This shouldn't be happening right???? This isn't supposed to happen and it's not right

Your mind is going in circles, you wanna run away from him, but also savoring and breathing in this moment even for just a while

"Y/N"

He says your name and it so soft that you could hear it melting down to your ears

"Yes?" You managed to say with a confused look but also with a thumping heart

"You're the only girl that has ever truly shown to me what it is to be protected and cared for"

Your breath hitches when he moved closer and if goes some for more, he can kiss you and it frightens you

"Eddie" you try to remove his hold on you but he won't budge as it gets even worse, he keeps you steady by holding you at the waist

"Please, just listen, I-I am thankful that you're going to stay when I thought you will leave me"

"Of course, I'm not leaving you behind, Eddie, you deserve to be appreciated, always"

"I am still in disbelief from all of the things that you said to me"

"Don't ever think that you're not worthy to be loved, Eddie"

Your eyes widen when he leans closer-

"Y/N, Eddie- where-" Chrissy's jaw drops when she saw you and him mere inches close

You step back and walk away and you know damn well a pair of chocolate button eyes is glued to your back and you pretend like everything is going fine but a knowing look is present on Chrissy's face as she nods along to your excuses as you went inside of the house

She slowly turns her head around at Eddie who is a blushing mess as he waves a dismissive hand at her as she smirks at him

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You wrap your hair in a towel as you saw Chrissy fluffing out of the pillows with a smug smile on her face

"Don't fucking start, Chrissy"

"What?!? I'm not even doing anything!"

"Well, wipe that eat shiting grin off your face!"

"If it affects you so much that means you like him-"

You give her a death stare as you rip off the towel from your head as you hang for it to dry in the rackets as you start to brush your hair

"No, wait- you love him!"

"I wanna go home so freaking bad-" the answer that Chrissy wanted is so obvious how your cheeks turns to bright red as she giggles at your side

"Why? Do you have a boyfriend back there?"

It's like a real fucking connection that you could feel that Eddie is behind that door when in fact he is listening to your conversation together as you look at it before you bring your eyes back to Chrissy

Eddie clenches his jaw as he thinks so bitterly about you having a boyfriend when it should've been him

"Uh, no, I don't have a boyfriend-"

He raises both of his eyebrows the same time Chrissy reacted at the reveal

"What?!?" She exclaims as if she receives the worst news of her life

You chuckled at her reaction as you lay your blanket as you released a soothing sigh as you went all the way down to the bed

She propped her elbows to look at you in disbelief, "Wh-What do you mean that you don't have any boyfriend?!?"

You laugh breathy as you went serious, "For starters, I have very high standards when it comes to men and if it's so hard to find the right one on this era then it is much more excruciatingly hard to find the one at my time"

"Oh, true" she smiles sadly at that when it hits her, you're right, your words resonate with her situation too

"I'm sorry if I reacted that way, you look pretty and I think you're cool, any guy would be lucky to have you, Y/N"

"Wow, thanks?"

"Oh my god, just take the compliment!"

"Okay, okay"

Eddie sits down on the floor quietly on the side of the closed door with a lovesick smile on his face as he continues to listen

"I really hate talking about my personal life but I just wanted to have something so real and I don't do dates, hell- I don't even have a relationship all my life, I've never had a boyfriend, it's because when I do it, I wanna be like, okay, this is it, I want you, we're going to spend the rest of our lives loving each other and you know, I just don't wanna pick the wrong guy that it would end me getting hurt and kicked around for fun, I want love that is so lasting that you won't get tired of me that we both understand each other with mental connections"

Chrissy listening very carefully to your words as you noticed the slight teary pricks on her eyes

"I do enjoy the life of me being single, you know, just hanging out with your bestfriends but yeah, sometimes, I do wonder what it is like to be loved to be truly loved by someone else that you loved them the same way as they do you know?, I do yearn and longed for that feeling, but.....I just can't, I really don't want to waste my life with the wrong soul, I can't bond over that"

"You got me thinking there, Y/N, what you just said is true, it must've been so great to find your person"

"Exactly"

"Do you have lots of bestfriends?"

"Nah, I only have one"

"Really?"

"Yeah, I'm not much of a popular kid at school too"

"They're clearly missing out on you"

"Damn right"

You both laughed at each other as Eddie smiles so widely at that but he processes everything that you just said to Chrissy

Your expectations and his standards are just the same thing as you do, he sighs deeply as he thinks about on how he can pull this off

He stands up as he takes off his leather jacket as he settles himself on the couch

He puts his other arm under his head as he speaks the words

"Y/N, words can't describe how much I fall for you from the day that I saw you in the woods....appearing into my life, jumping into my world without any context..."

He chuckles to himself when he is so sure of his heart as he can feel it pumping really hard and fast whenever he thinks about you

"Yeah, you're right, Y/N, you're my future"

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ

taglist <3 : @paleidiot @marsmallow433 @whothefckissofia @letsfallinlove-blog @silky-luxe @imagine-all-the-imagines @theladyasgard @mayaluvzyou @mewchiili @crystalr @sadbitchfangirl

(chapter 5 has officially dropped! I hope y'all didn't forget about me and this series! I still hope that all of you are looking forward to this story that I created, I'm so sorry if it's taking way too long but my life had so many happenings and thank you so much for understanding, support and enjoying this! 🥺🫶🏻✨)

[harmonyckrs]

Act 4, Scene 2 of Twisted Veronaville: The Last Resort

THE LAST PAGE

You might've been wondering what we were doing while all of this was going on.

Well, we were across town, but we all felt it. The intense feeling of dread as Bianca pleaded with Patrizio to just listen to her for once, that she was just as important to the family as the heirs and the ones who bore them.

And Antonio was nodding along, still too afraid to act out against his family in fear of suffering the same fate as Bianca. How could he, after all? It was family who had kept him afloat when Hero died.

And then there was me, watching over him.

Viola: Mercutio?

Mercutio: I don't want to talk right now.

Viola: (He's probably too sad to realize what's going on.)

Viola: I'm sorry about what happened with Tybalt. It must be hard to lose somoene...

Mercutio: And it's all Romeo's fault.

Viola: (Hm. So there's going to be infighting now...maybe I'll try to talk to Romeo instead...)

Romeo: AH! Ghost of Christmas Past!

Viola: No, no. I'm your sister, who transitioned. We switched bodies in the womb.

Romeo: Oh...ha. Didn't recognize you at all, Benvoli-er, what's your name now? Did you change it?

Viola: Yeah, Viola. But enough about me. You need to patch things up with Mercutio.

Romeo: Why?

Viola: Well, he's really depressed, and I think the terrible omen we all keep getting is because of him.

Romeo: Not my problem.

Viola: (Stubborn as always.)

Romeo: Do you wanna play Mario Kart?

Viola: Sure...I'm a bit rusty, though...

Meanwhile, while Antonio was paying his parents a visit and the sitter was staring at the TV, Beatrice and Benedick took the chance to stay past their bedtime to play computer games.

Benedick: It's my turn on the computer!

Beatrice: I'm in the middle of this round! I can't just leave halfway through! I'll lose!

Benedick: You've already been on the computer for two whole hours!

Beatrice: If I lose, it's your-

*CRASH*

Benedick: What was that?

Beatrice: You wanna go outside and look?

???: OW! WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO MOVE THE BODY, NOT MAKE SURE HE ACTUALLY DIES!

Benedick: ...Let's not.

Meanwhile, as the sun returned to being visible in the sky, Aktu and Sita had taken some more extreme measures to prevent the death of Mercutio.

Ripp: YOU BROKE INTO THE CAPP FAMILY'S CRYPT AND TOOK HIS BODY?

Aktu: Mercutio can't kill himself over Tybalt's supposedly dead body if he doesn't know where the dead body is.

Sita: Exactly. And we have the clones of Glarn and Kitty Curious guarding him if someone tries to come near.

Ripp: Clones?...is Crystal helping us now?

Sita: Yeah. She said she had too many of them and that they wanted something to do. I'm not entirely sure whose side she's on, but I frankly don't care at this point.

Ripp: Fair. Does Pascal know about this? Since they're his parents and all?

Sita: Probably not. I think he'd be pissed.

Pascal: I'd disagree.

Sita: AH! Dude, give us a warning!

Pascal: You're a psychic. I assumed you would've detected my presence with your mind already.

Sita: Wasn't paying attention.

Pascal: That's on you. And as I was going to say, my parents have always had a thirst for knowledge. Runs in the family. I'm sure they'd be more than happy to have their bodies used in the name of science...even if it is at the hands of that atrociously evil Crystal.

Sita: Your family's weird.

Pascal: I know...oh, and move the body inside. A coffin out in the open is just asking to be opened.

Sita: I'd like to think people here are smarter than that, but yeah. I guess that's a good idea...

Juliette: And apparently, the body just disappeared!

Ripp: Oh, no! Really? What could've happened to it?

Juliette: I don't know! The guards said they didn't even see anything! Those damn Montys probably took the body...I wouldn't be surprised if they were somehow behind this too. This is all Mercutio's fault for seducing Tybalt!

Ripp: (I'm certain Tybalt would've said the same for you when you were dating Romeo). I don't think Mercutio's that kind of lover, Juliette. Maybe it got...misplaced?

Juliette: ...You mentioned you were from a family of ninjas, right?

Ripp: ...Yeah, my aunt and uncle...you're not accusing me of stealing his body, right? I'm not a ninja!

Juliette: Well, you're being weirdly defense of the Montys.

Ripp: It just doesn't-

*SNAP*

Ripp: Ugh. Not this again...

Tank: I know it was you.

Ripp: What proof do you have?

Tank: Two people who snuck past guards...who else can do that besides the two ninjas that you live with? And you all have a motive, because you know Mercutio has to kill himself over Tybalt's body.

Ripp: You're smarter than I thought.

Tank: Why do you keep trying, anyway?

Ripp: Because they're my friends! I know you can't relate to that, but I'd really prefer for them not to die! And I'll do whatever it takes to save them, even if everything seems completely hopeless!

Tank: ...

Tank: ...You're more determined than I remember...

Titania: You GAVE HIM A POTION TO FAKE HIS DEATH!?

Oberon: ...Yeah. So?

Titania: Oberon, what were you thinking? They're all teenagers! They'll probably forget all about it and move on once they go to college. You've just doomed us all!

Oberon: Well, he's not actually dead!

Titania: You know fully well Consort is going to blame the Montys on this. The war's going to get worse! It's just like that failed spell we tried to cast to end the war!

Oberon: Hey, that required two people. And besides, Mercutio was sent a letter explaining everything. I'm sure he won't do anything reckless.

Titania: Fine. But if he does and I'm right about what happens next, we're getting a divorce.

THE NEXT PAGE

[an-android-in-a-tutu]

The answer to that question, it turns out, is "steal a car."

The road they landed on is gently winding and wooded on either side. It's not wilderness, the road is well-maintained, and you can catch glimpses of openness through the trees where it's been clear-cut, the loggers leaving just enough of a strip of greenery to prevent people in passing cars from seeing the ugly barrenness left behind. At least, that's what Claire's mom told her, once, in the back of the car driving down a road just like this one, and she never questioned it then.

She's learned since that parents aren't as infallible as they seem when you're twelve.

(She still doesn't know what happened to her mom. Now she never will.)

The point is that it's not a busy road and it's not studded with helpful landmarks that'll tell them where they've landed, so they've got no way of knowing how long it'll take them to get anywhere by following it.

They need transportation.

Of course, their ability to procure it relies on a car actually turning up, and it takes a solid half hour of walking down the side of the road before they hear the approaching rumble of an engine cutting through the quiet night. Claire sticks out her thumb, and Cas slides back down into the ditch out of sight.

The car that ends up slowing to a stop next to her is a blue prius, and the guy at the wheel looks like a total soccer dad. He's got laugh lines for fuck's sake, and the first thing out of his mouth when she cautiously approaches the window is "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just looking for a ride." She mumbles.

"What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?" He asks, all fatherly concern.

"Trying to get back to town." She replies vaguely. "Do you know how far it is?"

"About another twenty minutes, if you'll let me give you a ride." He smiles at her. "A lot longer if you keep on walking."

Claire hesitates, wavering on the spot.

"Do you?" He asks, smile fading. "Want a ride, I mean."

"Yeah, that's kind of what the whole sticking out my thumb thing was about." She replies, but she still doesn't move.

His expression softens. "Hey, it's okay, I promise. Why don't you hop in the back? I'll take you wherever you want to go, no strings attached, I swear."

"Shit." Claire grimaces. "I was kinda hoping you'd be a creep or something."

"What? Why?" He exclaims.

The driver's side door gets yanked open and he turns around to come face to face with the barrel of an assault rifle.

"Get out of the car." Castiel orders, voice about as rough as it always is, but in context it's probably especially intimidating. To Claire, he adds: "Not every car theft is going to function as karmic retribution, sometimes you have to go with the convenient option."

"Oh god. Oh god, please don't shoot me." Says the guy, putting his hands up and staring wide eyed at the gun."

"I know that I'm just saying I'd feel better about it if he'd been at least a little bit skeezy." She rebuts, pulling open the passenger side door as well. "I'm young and pretty and I've got nowhere to go, it wouldn't be that hard for some guy to get ideas."

The guy in the driver's seat hasn't moved, and he looks about ready to wet himself.

"Out." Cas repeats, gesturing with his gun. The guy whimpers a little, and Claire winces. "It's not as though people never pick up hitchhikers with altruistic intentions, this was as likely as any other outcome. Maybe more so."

"Yeah, whatever." She rolls her eyes. "Dude, you gotta get out of the car."

He jerks up in his seat, finally startled into motion, and immediately gets caught on his seat-belt.

"You have to unbuckle yourself first." Castiel informs him helpfully, gun never wavering an inch. The guy starts scrabbling at the buckle frantically, not looking at what he's doing and making about zero progress.

"Please- please don't kill me." He begs, voice cracking. "I have a family."

"Congratulations." Castiel replies, bored. "Most humans do."

Claire makes a face. Castiel sees her making the face. He sighs.

"Claire." He says, disapproving.

She puts up her hands. "I feel bad!"

"We need transportation, Claire."

"He says it's not that far, we could probably make it to town on our own and just steal a car there." She points out. Not that either of them are great at hot-wiring vehicles, but they could probably manage, between the two of them, right?

"My feet hurt." Castiel declares, like it's the worst thing in the world and a totally reasonable reason to steel a car from a perfectly nice man instead of walking for an hour or two.

"Point." Claire says, sliding into the car and reaching over to unbuckle the guy's belt for him. Because, well, Cas' feet hurt. What can you do? "Sorry buddy, them's the breaks."

The guy lurches out of the car to get away from her, and then veers aside to give Cas as wide a birth as he can, hands coming up again. Cas keeps the gun trained lazily on him.

"You'll- you'll let me go now, right?" He asks.

"Mhm." Cas shrugs, gestures dismissively with one hand. "You need anything?"

"What?" The guy sounds like he's about to start crying.

"From your car." Cas clarifies, looking unimpressed. "Do you need anything?"

For a long minute the guy just stares at him.

"... Can I have my briefcase?"

Cas looks to Claire, and she twists around to look in the back.

"It's under the seat." The guy says, helpfully, and she contorts herself around over the centre console to grope blindly for it.

"You could just get out and go around." Castiel points out.

"I got it." Claire snaps back, feeling her fingertips brushing leather. She heaves herself forward a little more and manages to grasp the handle, yanking it up with her when she pulls back. "HA!"

She passes it through the open door to Castiel, who tosses it to the guy, who fumbles to catch it with numb fingertips and clutches it to his chest.

"Anything else?" Castiel asks.

"I think I left my cellphone on the passenger seat?" The guy replies tentatively. Claire turns around to look for it.

"I'm not seeing a cellphone." She says.

"Are you sitting on it?"

"I think I'd know if I was sitting on it, Cas-"

"What?"

"...Found it."

"Were you sitting on it?"

"Shut up." She tosses him the phone, which is a lot clunkier than she remembers cellphones being when she was a kid. She didn't actually ask how far back they ended up, if that's even something Cas can tell. Has she even been born yet? There's no way they're that far back in time. For one thing, the guy in the car is dressed basically normal. For another, there are cellphones. Cellphones aren't that old, are they?

Cas catches the thing, and instead of passing it along, he flips it open, looking at the little screen.

"Is this the date?" He asks, turning it to face the guy.

"Um... yeah? Wait, no-" He stutters, sweating under Cas' bland scrutiny. "The damn thing kept resetting on me and it's always such a hassle to change it so I just leave it... like that..."

He trails off, withering as Castiel stares at him.

"What is the date."

"October tenth?"

"Year."

"2005." He supplies promptly, clearly too terrified to comment.

"Thanks." Cas says, slinging his gun back over his shoulder, he tosses the phone over, underhand, and gets in the driver's seat. "Call someone for a ride."

"Our other car is in the shop-" The guy starts to say, but Cas slams the door and starts the engine, and he skitters back to the edge of the road like they're gonna swerve and hit him as they pull away.

"See? He'll be fine." Cas says. "He has another car and everything."

"Yeah but it's in the shop, Cas." Claire counters, waving at the guy in the rear-view as he stands there watching them, clutching his phone and briefcase to his chest. "Who's gonna drive his kids to soccer practice, now?"

"Soccer practice?" Castiel asks, amused.

"Well not in this car, obviously. This car is a sensible hybrid he takes on business trips. His wife drives a station wagon- ooh or a minivan- to cart their five kids to their various extracurriculars." She informs him, tilting her seat back and putting her feat up. "Soccer and baseball for the boys, ballet for the girls. Violin for their youngest who's the sensitive type. His names Jeremy. But now with no transportation, they won't get their required enrichment, driving their mother up the wall and putting a strain on their parents' marriage, leading to a messy divorce, and the stress will put Jeremy onto a dark path that leads him to abandon his passion for music." She shakes her head sadly. "He'll never play Carnegie hall, now."

"Claire, you never told me you were such a talented psychic." Castiel says mildly. "If you'd said something, perhaps I would have spared him. Also, put your seat-belt on."

"Whatever." She rolls her eyes, snorting, but she complies, not even bothering to point out that he's not wearing his, the hypocrite.

"We'll switch cars when we get to town," Cas says after a moment, "he'll get it back in a day or two, tops."

"We should," Claire points out, "because he is definitely going to call the cops on us. Kind of a bonehead move, giving him his cell back. You looking to get into a police chase?"

"Not yet, he won't." Castiel informs her. "He didn't have any bars."

"Sure," Claire says, "you couldn't help it could you."

Castiel keeps driving in silence.

"He was just... so pathetic." He says, finally. "Like a sad, wet dog."

Claire barks out a laugh.

"Mean!" She says, punching him in the shoulder, and he smiles back at her, pleased with himself.

"Where are we headed, anyway?" She asks. "You got a plan?"

Castiel hums thoughtfully.

"It's October tenth," he says, "on November second, in Palo Alto, California, Sam Winchester's girlfriend is murdered by a demon, sending him and his brother down the path that will eventually lead them to starting the apocalypse.

"It's not the first or the last domino, but it seems like as good a place to intervene as any."

"Plus, you know, sucks for her," Claire says. "Dying and all."

"Yes, sucks for her," Castiel muses. "Best if we can prevent it."

"So we're headed to California then?" Claire asks. "That'll be cool. Hey, we've got like three weeks, maybe we can hit the beach."

Castiel doesn't reply.

"Cas?"

"We have another stop, first." He doesn't look at her.

"Where?" She asks, uncertain.

"Pontiac." He says. "First, we're going to Pontiac."

They don't talk for the rest of the drive.

I HAVE. A self indulgent AU that I'm not sure I've ever discussed here but I'm too lazy to check. It's about endverse Cas travelling in time back to season one to stop the apocalypse, which has been done and done very well, but the twist is. Endverse Claire.

[strangelysamantha]

elderly advice ❀

rafe cameron x plus!reader.

warnings: slight bullying for weight, harsh words, mention of a grandpa, use of word baby, swearing, physical and verbal fighting.

words: 1,964.

summary: when you work at a golf course as a cart girl, you are happy because that means you’ll be seeing rafe more often. but, there’s a downside when you realize that kelce and topper will see you more often as well, and with seeing them more often, you also get to hear their harsh words.

request? nope :)

a/n: i’m just overflowing with idea’s right now. :) i hope you all enjoy this story. it’s angsts at the beginning but it turns into fluff i promise! like and comment if you enjoy this story so i know what you guys want me to write more of. ily thanks! <3

my masterlist

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“you’re a fat ass who shouldn’t be working here. point blank, there’s nothing else to be said.” kelce stared at you in disgust, his eyes dragging up and down your body. topper laughs in agreement, “damn straight. we are trying to golf, not be distracted by a beluga whale who doesn’t belong here.” you quickly hand them their drinks. you ignore their remarks, just trying to finish your shift. tears slowly fall from your eyes but you wipe them as soon as they touch your nose. “can i get you anything else?” you ask, slightly urgent to ensure you leave before your boyfriend comes back.

rafe and you had been dating. not in secret, everyone knew you two were dating. which included kelce and topper. despite them knowing that, they didn’t stop being rude to you every chance they got. they believed you weren’t worthy for rafe, and that he could do much better than you. “yeah, actually. can you give us some space? damn, you are fucking all over us.” you shake your head, speed walking away. you take a deep breath, trying to slow your breathing so you could stay calm. after a few minutes of air, you got back to work. out of the corner of your eye, you see rafe had joined his friends. you avoided going over there, especially since you had just served them.

you walk over to an older man, he smiles lightly at you. “thank you.” he replies softly, taking the drink you were handing him. “why do you let them talk to you like that?” he asks, clearly indicating he had seen the whole event that just happened. “i don’t- i don’t know what i can say. if i say what’s truly on my mind, i’m afraid i’ll lose my job.” your lips curl into a small smile. you acknowledge him nodding his head before you walk off to the next table.

when you turned around, the old man you once saw had got up and moved. you search around to ensure he wasn’t complaining about your service and that’s when you finally spot him at rafe’s table. your breath gets caught in your throat. you profusely apologize to the table you were currently serving, before you start to walk in the old man's direction.

the old man looked familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. once you get closer to the table, you can hear their conversation. you arrive at the table, swiftly shielding your body with the circular drink holder that was once placed on your flat palm.

“is there a problem?” topper asks, smiling. the old man chuckles, “do you believe there should be a problem?” he asks. your heart beats faster as you fear what the man's next words might be. obviously you don’t want topper and kelce to treat you with hostility, but you didn’t want to go against them in fear that rafe would choose their side. “no sir, no problem here. you are the one who came up to our table.” kelce exclaims before putting on a fake smile when glancing at you.

your eyes are wide, and you calmly tap the old man's shoulder. “i’m sorry sir, is everything okay? is there something you need in particular? i would happily assist you and grab you anything you need.” he glances down at you, now noticing that rafe had placed his arm around your waist. he clearly notices rafe's gesture and laughs lightly. “girl, you deserve so much better.” you nod slightly, but he continues. “i’m assuming that this is your boyfriend?” he asks. rafe smiles, “yes, i’m the boyfriend.” you couldn’t understand the tone in his voice. whether it was protectiveness, jealousy, or just plain amusement, there was definitely something off.

“well, isn’t this a funny picture?” you frown at his words. your eyes plead to him to drop it and move on but he shakes his head, not budging. “that boyfriend of yours sweetie,” his eyes are trained on you. “does he know that his friends harass you every chance they get?” rafe's’ smile has fallen from his face, anger now bubbling up. “what are you talking about?” his eyes narrow, waiting for his response. “i hate to break it to you, but those friends of yours mistreat your girlfriend daily. i’ve see it everyday, she’s just walking around doing her job, and your hooligan friends fat shame and cuss her out. but obviously as her boyfriend you knew that right?” he questions, rafe's grasp on your waist tightens when you begin to walk away. his hands prevent you from walking off.

“not so fast.” rafe says, now standing. “who is this guy?” you hesitate, but he answers for you. “this guy is her great grandpa who has just flown to town a week or so ago.” your face drops as the realization hits you like a ton of bricks. your great grandpa. you hadn’t ever met your family, unless they lived in the house with you. you had only met him once for a family reunion when you were seven.

“oh. sir- i’m sorry i didn’t mean to…” grandpa cuts him off immediately, “i shouldn’t be the one you are apologizing too.” he nods, but before rafe can register it you had already ran to the employee only break room. you slide down the wall, your arms wrapping around your legs as you begin to weep. it’s hard to breathe as you realize that rafe now knows. the next interaction with rafe is detrimental as it will showcase if he truly loves you, or if he would rather choose his friends. 

“sir! you can’t be back here! i won’t hesitate to call security!” your fellow employee called out. you had a huge inkling that they were talking to rafe. “call the security, i don’t give a shit. i need to go back there, my girl is back there and i know she’s not doing okay.” rafe pushes past them and sees you crying on the floor. his heart burns in his chest as he sees the distraught state you were in. “baby…?” he questions.

“yes, rafe?” you respond, your head still hiding in your palms. “baby look at me, please.” you hesitated, but inevitably lifted your face up. he rushed over, sitting in front of you, “what do they say?” he immediately asks, while he wipes away your stray tears. you frown recalling the numerous events where his friends would bully you, “which time?” you ask. his heart drops at your words. he hated to admit it, but he was oblivious to what they were doing to you.

“please. you have to tell me what they were saying to my baby.” he frowns, his voice being lighter than you’ve ever seen it. “rafe-,” you try to tell him to drop it, but he shuts you up immediately. “what the fuck do they say to you? i’m not playing any games.” you breathe out, “they just say i don’t deserve you, and that you could do better, and that they think i’m a fat waste of space.” his grip on your hand tightened. “what the fuck...” is all he said before he stood up and stormed out of the room.

you quickly wipe your tears away, before following after him. by the time you catch up, he’s already yelling at both topper and kelce. “why the fuck have you been saying that shit? it’s not your fucking place to say shit like that about my girl!” rafe’s hand were grasping at toppers t-shirt. your hand covers your own mouth as the event in front of you unravels. “trust me rafe, we’re doing you a favor.” rafe scoffs, pushing topper, as he stumbled back. “fuck you mean man? i don’t need any favors from you.” rafe’s yelling caused a commotion as half the guests were now staring.

you frown, not knowing what to do. “alright. so what? we make a few jokes. it’s not our fault she’s so sensitive and takes everything to heart.” kelce laughs, and so does topper. “for real, she’s being extra like always. what’s fucking new.” topper exclaims, he now has regained his balance, rafe stands straighter. “you guys are assholes, you know that right? i mean what? you thought i’d never find out?” topper laughs, “well obviously, we knew she’d never tell you. i mean, we’ve been messing with her for fucking months man.” rafe’s anger grows stronger, he knew it had been going on for a while, maybe a week or two. but months??

rafe looks back at you, his eyes softening. you’d been dealing with his friends, taking every low blow and jab just so you could be with him. rafe’s attention returned to kelce and topper. “we will talk about this later. fuck both of you. that’s fucked up, regardless if she was my girl or not. such fucking dicks.” rafe pushed them both one last time before hurrying to your side.

his arms immediately find a placement against your hips. you avoided eye contact. “come on baby, let’s go.” he grabbed your hand and walked you to his car. luckily your shift had ended so you wouldn’t get in trouble with work. once inside his car, he starts it. before he pulls out of the parking lot, he’s staring at you, a question lingering in his mind.

“baby?” he quietly asks, his entire demeanor changing from just a few minutes ago, his hand reached for your thigh. “yes?” you reply, finally gaining enough courage to maintain eye contact with him. “why…” he hesitated but decided to ask anyway. “why didn’t you tell me that they were doing that? if i had any idea they were doing that… i mean, they wouldn’t even hear the end of it.” you frown. “do you want the truth?” you wait for his response. “yes.” you nod, “well. i was scared that you would pick them over me.” he was speechless. his jaw clenched as his grip on your thigh tightened.

“baby. i would never condone what they were doing. they are fucking assholes. they were undoubtedly trying to ruin the best thing i have. i would never choose them over you. i don’t- why would you even believe that?!” his eyes were soft, pleading for any excuse you could muster up. “i’m sorry, i was just scared.” he nodded, he finally drove you to your house.

once inside your house, you two were sitting on your bed in comfortable silence. you were sitting down playing on your phone, as his head was laid against your thighs. “you know i love you, right?” he asks. you nod, your hand massaging in his hair. “i know rafe. and you know i love you too.” he nodded, one hand gripping your thigh, as the other drew shapes against your skin.

“i’m really sorry they treated you that way. if i had any idea-.” you cut him off immediately. “rafe you couldn’t have known. it’s okay i promise. please, it’s okay.” he shakes his head. “it’s not okay. they are supposed to be my friends but now i come to find out they tried to actively run you away. it makes me fucking mad.” you nod. “well i’m still here. and i don’t plan on running away.” he nodded, sighing. “thank you.” you lean down and press a kiss on his hair. “of course.”

silence surrounded you again. “can i still beat the shit out of them?” he asks. you gasp. “rafe! no!! they aren’t worth it.” he slightly laughs. “fine. only because you said no.” he snuggles his face deeper into your thighs, playing with the fabric of your shorts. “i’m happy here.” you shake your head, setting your phone down. “only because you are between my thighs.” you feel him smile. “exactly.”

[frenchpuppycormier]

fluff 10 and/or 11 + supercorp for the sentence starters pls 💞

"Are we on a date right now?" / "I think I'm in love with you."

—

Saturday signals the best day in Kara's book for one simple reason: the farmers market. It's the perfect place to buy fresh produce directly from the grower at a lower price than those pesky retailers. Not to mention, it's fresher and it's a great way to support local communities.

Kara enjoys it most in the early morning between 8 and 9 when the California heat hasn't bombarded its citizens yet. One of her favorite memories of going to the market was when she first arrived on earth, and Eliza and Alex took her to the one in Midvale. Eliza bought her the sweetest miniature doughnuts which practically melted in her mouth. She's been a huge (understatement of the year) fan ever since.

The farmers market is located 20 blocks from her apartment, just a short jaunt or flight for the hero.

Today she decides to walk and enjoy the nice cool breeze, and the warm sun spilling on her face. She can already hear the acoustics of a folk band covering a Fleetwood Mac song at the end of main street. The leaves are starting to change, indicating the beginning of fall, and the ones already on the ground crunch beneath her feet.

Her reusable cloth bag with the words, "Okey Dokey Artichokey" and a cartoon artichoke with a smiley face and tiny stick arms, is slung over her shoulder. Lena had given it to her as a gag gift, but Kara uses it the most out of all her bags. Any gift from Lena is special and she will always treasure it.

As she rounds the corner to the market, she sneaks another look at her list to remind herself what she needs, when she bumps into someone. Hard. Fortunately, Kara manages to grab the other person's arm before they fall.

"Oh my gosh," Kara cringes. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't watching where I was—" she interrupts herself when she sees, "Lena?"

"Hey there, slick," Lena laughs and nudges the hand latched on her arm to tangle with her fingers.

Kara responds by swinging their arms back and forth, like what friends do when they haven't seen each other in months. But Kara and Lena just saw each other yesterday. This is normal, right? Kara thinks. The fluttering in my chest is completely common whenever I see my friends....Right?

"Wh-what are you doing here?" Kara speaks before her brain can catch up with her.

Lena's face lights up with a sly grin. "Can't a woman go to the market every once in a while?"

"N-no no, of course you can," Kara laughs awkwardly, "I meant, gosh I'm not sure...I guess I just didn't expect to see you here. You live all the way on the other side of town."

"Relax, love," she chuckles and squeezes her hand and releases it, Kara immediately missing the warmth. "I'm teasing you. But to answer your question, I'm in desperate need of fresh kale, and I heard this particular stand has the best in the city."

Kara feigns gagging and Lena playfully shoves her shoulder. “I still don’t understand how you can eat that stuff.”

“Who knew the green stuff that incapacitates you was kale.”

“More like your eyes,” Kara mumbles.

“What was that?”

Kara’s eyes widen. “N-nothing,” she rubs the back of her neck. “Um, so….do you care if I join you? Wandering aimlessly through the market checking out food stands with my best friend sounds like the perfect way to spend my Saturday morning.”

“I’d love nothing more,” Lena replies, smiling brightly.

—

“Oooh, look! A food truck!” Kara points.

Lena laughs at her zeal. “Let’s see what they have.”

Kara reaches for her hand and twines their fingers together before dragging her toward the truck. Lena’s stomach swoops at the action, but she calms herself down enough so Kara doesn’t notice her rapid heartbeat. Not that she would, considering food is the best distraction when it comes to the blonde.

Little does Lena know that nothing can distract Kara from Lena, especially considering 98% of the time Kara is listening to the constant thumps and quivers of Lena’s heart, but Kara doesn’t say anything.

Kara looks up at the man in the truck and politely rattles off her order, then looks at Lena and asks, “What do you want?”

“Um,” Lena quickly glances at the menu and says, “I’ll have the Avo Smash, please.” She moves to hand the man cash, but Kara stops her and insists she'll pay for it. "My treat."

Once they give their order they move to the side and wait until their names are called.

When they get their food they move to a shady spot on the sidewalk and admire how delicious it looks.

“What’s that?” Kara asks.

“Oh, it’s a piece of toast with smashed avocado, egg, and tomato,” Lena replies, noticing how Kara turns up her nose. Lena rolls her eyes and gestures at her hands, “What’d you get?”

"Uh, only the most scrumptious and melt in your mouth-watering food you can get here," she replies, eyebrows pinched, incredulously. Lena raises her eyebrows in a get-on-with-it kind of way. "French toast bites," Kara finishes, exasperated at Lena's lack of enthusiasm.

"Sweet food for a sweet girl."

Kara's cheeks grow a slight pink. Instead of replying, she dips a piece of her toast in the syrup, and shoves the whole thing in her mouth. Lena simply hums and takes a bit of her own food. Kara smiles like a chipmunk with cheeks full of goodies.

When Lena's finished with her slice of hipster toast, as Kara calls it, a small body runs into her legs from behind. She looks down and finds a small boy with sandy blonde hair and big, blue eyes looking up at her with a toothy grin.

"Hi, there," she smiles at him.

"Henry!" a woman in a flowy maxi dress and brown sandals comes running toward them. She picks him up and gives him a stern look. "I told you not to run off like that!" The woman adjusts him on her hip and shyly realizes she has an audience. "I'm so sorry! He gets too excited about their french toast."

"Oh, no worries," Lena reassures her. She carefully grabs Kara's elbow and says, "This one does too."

Kara acts hurt by placing a hand over her heart. "Well, can you blame me? They're delicious! Aren't they?" she smiles at the boy and waves. He giggles and hides his face in his mother's neck. "Someone's a little shy, huh?"

"He is, isn't he?" the mom kisses his cheek. "I think he has a little crush on you."

"Who, me?" Kara laughs. "No, I think he has eyes for Lena. As most people do." She steps forward and tickles his stomach so he looks at her. Kara holds out her hand for a high five and whispers, "Good choice." He gratefully slaps her hand.

When Kara steps back, Lena is blushing, but rather than call her out on it she ignores it out of respect. Kara smiles at her and Lena smiles back, but then she's suddenly laughing through her nose.

"Darling, you have a little," she gestures at her own face.

"What? I have something on my face?" Kara touches her cheek, but completely misses.

"Here," Lena's fingers tenderly touch the side of her jaw while her thumb swipes her lip. Lena's completely focused on what she's doing, but Kara only has eyes for Lena.

Lena pulls back her hand, thumb now sticky with syrup. Instead of wiping it on the napkin Kara knows Lena has in her bag, she sticks it between her lips and licks it clean.

Kara completely stops breathing.

"How long have you two been together?" a voice snaps her out of her reverie.

Kara gapes at her with wide eyes and stutters, "Um...we, we're uh, just friends."

"Oh," the woman almost looks upset. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to presume. Well, I'll let you get back to your morning." She smiles at them and walks away, leaving a flabbergasted Kara and quiet Lena.

They don't say anything and choose to ignore it while they continue down the street.

—

"Lena, you have to try this," Kara doesn't give her a chance to respond before shoving a spoonful of gelato in Lena's mouth.

Lena gasps and nearly chokes on the ice cold dessert enveloping her tastebuds. She hisses and nods, as she lifts her hand to hastily catch the dribbles of melted chocolate trickling down her chin. Kara winces, "I'm so sorry!"

"No," Lena shakes her head as she swallows, "I just wasn't expecting that."

"Well? How was it?"

"Y'know, I'm not gonna lie...it was pretty fucking delicious."

"Right? Marco really knows his stuff."

"Um," Lena holds her hand out, fingers spread apart to prevent more sticking, and shakes it like she doesn't know what to do.

Kara jumps to action and runs off. She's back in two seconds with a wet wipe and cleans Lena's hand. "Where'd you find that?"

"Don't ask."

"Okay?" Lena laughs breathily. "You're a mystery wrapped inside an enigma, Ms. Danvers."

"I aim to confuse," she jokes.

Lena shakes her head, and eventually says, "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Kara smiles at her, their eyes locked onto each other. She's finished cleaning her hand, but rather than letting go, her hand stays curled around Lena's, not wanting to ruin the moment.

—

“Oh Rao, you didn’t,” Kara gasps.

Lena turns around and frowns at her. “What?” Kara gestures to Lena’s bag. Lena looks down and chuckles when she realizes what she’s talking about. “In my defense, I was drunk. You know how my shopping brain acts when I’m drunk; I buy things I don’t need.”

“Hmmm, well maybe your alcohol-addled brain just remembered how funny I thought it was and wanted to impress me,” Kara teases with a twitch of her eyebrow.

“I’m sure that’s exactly what happened,” Lena deadpans. She glanced at the words on her bag again and fondly shakes her head. It reads: Oh Kale Yeah, with a bunch of kale on both sides.

“I think so,” Kara steps closer and smiles.

“Oh, really?” Lena raises her eyebrows.

“Yep,” she ends with an extra pop of the ‘p’ and boops her on the nose.

Lena opens her mouth in surprise, a protest on the tip of her tongue, but a voice interrupts her from in front of them.

“You two are such a lovely couple,” the vendor gushes.

Lena and Kara startle, forgetting they’re standing right in front of a stand selling various vegetables and fruits and jars of honey. Behind the table is an older woman, most likely in her late 70s, with streaks of gray hair, crinkly eyes and facial lines as if she’s smiled her whole life.

“Oh, we’re not—”

“Thank you,” Kara answers, smiling bashfully. She pushes a lock of hair behind her ear and says, “I’ll take one bunch of radishes and one spaghetti squash.”

“Coming right up,” the woman replies.

Kara glances over at Lena and gives her a shy smile, before handing the woman a $10 bill and thanking her. She grabs the veggies and carefully drops them in her bag.

“Thank you two, have a wonderful day.”

“Of course, you too!” Kara places her hand on the small of Lena’s back and guides her forward.

As they make their way to the next stand, Kara laughs, remembering their conversation, “I can’t believe you bought that bag. You’re such a giant dork.”

Lena whips around and eyes Kara curiously. Kara’s hand shifts from her back to loosely rest on her waist. Lena’s eyes are squinting from the bright sun, but Kara can see the speckles of gold in them and thinks she’s never looked more beautiful.

“Are we on a date right now?”

Kara's heart quickens and she opens and closes her mouth a few times, until finally she clears her throat, "Did you want it to be?"

"I thought—”

"Because I do," Kara states. "Want it to be a date. But only if you do, of course. I don't want you to feel pressured or like I forced you to hang out with me," she retracts her hand. "That's the last thing I—”

Lena grabs her hand as she pulls it way, not wanting Kara to close herself off. "Hey, I want this just as much as you do."

"Really?"

Lena lightly presses her thumb into the grooves of Kara's knuckles, and absentmindedly plays with them. She smiles, fully dimpled, and says, "I do. Actually, I uh..." she lowers their connected hands and looks off into the distance, mind seemingly elsewhere.

"What is it?" Kara asks. She playfully shakes their arms back and forth to get her attention.

Lena looks at the ground before completely focusing on Kara and those baby blues she's come to know and love. She takes a deep breath and her voice shakes when she whispers, "I think I'm in love with you..." Lena stumbles and shakes her head, "No—I am in love with you."

Kara inhales sharply and Lena thinks she's made a giant mistake. She starts to turn and do something stupid, like run away, but Kara keeps her hold on her and pulls her forward.

Smiling, Kara slowly inches closer leaving the opportunity for Lena to stop her. When Kara's lips press into hers she welcomes it completely. Kara's hands come up to cup Lena's jaw until she moves one to tangle in her hair.

Kara disconnects from her lips, but stays wrapped up in her, their foreheads touching. "I'm in love with you, too," she whispers against soft lips.

"Good," Lena smiles and kisses her again.

[akaashisupremacy]

Moments of Courage

Summary: Osamu Miya is a difficult ex to have. When your paths cross endlessly, you try to rebuild your relationship. Will there be second chances? Or just more broken hearts?

HQ Masterlist || Multi-fandom Masterlist || Read it on A03

Osamu Miya  x reader  

“Are you leaving this party because of me?”

Osamu calls you out from the tiny hallway of your friend’s get together. After locking eyes with him, you did your best to subtly scamper towards the door.

“You don’t have to go. I can leave if it’s making you uncomfortable.” he assures.

You shake your head, “You can stay. I’m not having that much fun.”

You begin shuffling through the coat rack to look for yours. You’re desperate for anything to cut the time talking to him, talking about him. The only guaranteed way for this to stop is to leave.

“Are you hiding from me?” he asks almost rhetorically. His brows are gently raised.

“Yeah, obviously,” you retort, “I don’t want to be seen by you or with you.”

Osamu Miya is your ex. After over a year of dating, he decided to end things with you in a small cafe far off his onigiri stall.

“I’m too busy,” he claimed, “You deserve someone who could give you more time.”

You reasoned out that you didn’t mind not spending so much time together. His job was time-consuming. You understood that.

But Osamu was unsettled. You didn’t mind cheering him on from the benches waiting for him to finish up work. You liked seeing Osamu do things he was passionate about. And yet he felt unsettled, because he knew this was the type of work you would not engage in.

Osamu pressed on, “I’m sure you’ll find yourself someone more worldly, more sophisticated in the city. I don’t want to prevent you from meeting someone like that.”

Something dropped at the pit of your stomach. Your mouth was ajar. He’s really trying to break up with you. It’s no secret that you preferred the city and Osamu the countryside, but neither of you seemed to mind. You’d both make the time to visit each other. You made it work.

You remember barely touching your drink. Listening to him talk was like having a ton of bricks dropped on your back. The sunlight pouring in from the glass window suddenly felt prickly.

“I just don’t think we’re a good fit.” he swallowed, unable to look you in the eye, “I think someone from the country, someone simpler and more traditional would be better for me.”

You don’t miss the yearning in his voice, the dreaminess for someone who was clearly not you. He’d always tease that you were a true blue big city girl. You liked the tall buildings, the noise and the fancy department stores. You thought it was a point of endearment, but apparently not.

It’s been almost a year since you last saw him. He looks so unaffected it irks you.

“I broke up with you respectfully. Why are you mad?” he scratches his head.

It takes all your self-control to not slap him across the face.

“Because you hurt me! You’ve hurt me so…so…much.” your voice hitches before you can catch it. This is so humiliating. He’s clearly moved on from you.

Tears start pouring down your face. You quickly hide your eyes behind your coat.

“You’d eventually realize that I’m not right for you.” he murmurs, “We’re too different.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me.” you snap, clenching your fists, “So is this is it? To make you feel better you’re going to date a small town girl to solve all your problems.”

“Well, Kita did introduce me to someone lately.” he unironically replies, “She works in her family ryokan (inn) and we work similar hours. I think we’ll understand each other more than we did.”

Your eyes narrow.

“There’s no point staying in a relationship that I can’t make time for. Why can’t you understand that?” he snaps back.

It is one thing to be left for someone else and another for him to dump you just because. Somehow you feel like you lost even if you didn’t even have competition. He simply didn’t want you.

Your face contorts into an angry frown.

You slip on your coat and grab the door. “Man, you are a terrible ex. Do you know how it hurts when you tell me how wrong I was for you?”

When Osamu regains his cool, he tries to reach out to you, “I didn’t mean it that way…I didn’t feel good that I could make time for ‘ya and so I let the relationship go. Because i don’t know…—“

“Well, this is all just theory anyways.” he says, “I haven’t met Kita’s friend yet. We haven’t gone out yet, just the two of us.”

You do a double turn. “What?!?”

“Yeah, we’re working all the time but we haven’t made the time to meet.”

You break into a laugh. He stands stunned and confused.

“You know what? You stay behind. You left the last time. I want to be the one to leave this time.” you sigh, closing the door behind you.

You don’t turn back to see the look on his face.

————————————— Osamu mostly works in the countryside which means that you’d be less likely to run into each other in the city. It’s easier for you to keep your mind off him and focus on your current life.

So when you see him in the corner store in place of a small fried chicken stall you used to frequent, you’re visibly shocked, appalled even.

“What are you doing here?!” you jump back, “What happened to the fried chicken stall that was here?”

Osamu looks left and right, making sure no approaching customers can hear your dialogue.

“I run this stall now. Kawaneshi-san retired. It’s a great location. I’m literally in a crossroad between a shopping district and some schools. The rent isn’t too bad and it’s a very busy location.” he answers in his usual no nonsense tone.

You make a mental list not to pass by here again.

He recognizes the look on your face, “Have I just ruined your usual route for you?”

“I thought you were a country boy.” you avoid answering him.

“Even I need to make a living.” he snorts, carefully arranging umeboshi-flavored onigiri in his display case.

Sure! All of a sudden working in the city becomes important after he breaks up with you!

You roll your eyes and curtly walk away. You got here first. You love this city. You refuse to let some onigiri-making man ruin your everyday route.

The days roll into weeks. You stick to your route and diligently ignore Osamu each time. After a while it stops feeling weird that he’s there. You feel like you’re slowly taking pieces of yourself that he broke.

It feels so good to start to be whole again.

———————————— Your newfound peace with Osamu is interrupted when he calls you out of the blue one evening. He calls to tell you that he’s sick and that he needs help running groceries. The nerve!

“Don’t you have anyone else?” you groan. Hasn’t he made friends with some other shopkeepers?

“I have no one else. There’s only you.” he coughs through his words. He tries to explain that one of his few friends is out on bereavement.

You let it go. He clearly doesn’t have anyone for today.

You find out that Osamu lives in the apartment above his stall. The space is rather small. He shares his home with some of the equipment and supplies from his store.

He must hate it here. Osamu always loved wide open spaces.

You open the fridge to find it totally empty. His sink has a few empty bowls from his earlier rice porridges. You understand his desperation. He had nothing to eat.

Moved by his situation and the little compassion for him that remains in you, you sigh and begin chopping up some vegetables to make a nutritious broth. You add in some mushrooms and root crops. While the soup boils, you prepare rice and some pickles.

The faster he recovers, the less you have to interact with him.

When you bring him a tray of food in his room, he is equal parts surprised and confused.

“You can cook?” he clears his throat.

“No, Osamu.” you roll your eyes, “I eat all my food raw.”

He sits up and sniffs the aroma of your food through his clogged nose. He dips a spoon into the soup to sample his first meal of the day.

“I mean you can cook well, like a proper home cook.” he says, his eyes wide with awe. He quickly takes a few more sips and starts on his rice.

“I’ve never known.” he croaks, turning to you.

“You never asked,” you shrug, “And you like to do the cooking yourself. You probably assumed I can’t cook, because I’m not as passionate about food as you are.”

He quietly eats and looks away to confirm the truth in your statement.

You sigh and take a nearby basin with some towels in it. “I’ll leave after I bring the basin back.”

——————————————- Something changes in your relationship with Osamu after that incident. He starts to greet you when you walk by and sometimes offers you onigiri from his store.

You always insist on paying. He doesn’t always take it.

“You’re here to make a living.” you say as you push money into his hands.

In between these exchanges you start to ask about each other again. How are you doing? Was today busy? Stuff like that.

Slowly and surely, you two were rebuilding your relationship ground up. But it was tough. Neither of you went beyond these interactions. Maybe things are just meant to stay that way.

One late evening, the last customer for the day disappears out of Osamu’s line of sight when he heads into the back to start cleaning up. He’s about to start pulling down the rafters when you suddenly show up at his counter.

His face expresses his surprise.

“If it’s too late, I can just go.” you gesture sheepishly.

He’s always surprised when you come here on your own volition.

“It’s not,” he denies, “I was closing up too early anyways.”

You pick out your usual onigiri flavors and quickly pay up. As soon as you turn your back, Osamu stammers at you.

“I-I’m cooking up some stuff at the back. Do you want to stay and eat? Think of it as a return favor for the other week.” he refers to the episode of his sick day.

You’re caught off guard but you slowly nod your head to agree. You hadn’t had Osamu’s cooking in a while and it was getting quite late. He opens the door for you and you follow him towards the back of his shop.

In a messy plastic table, you see an array of salads and pickles with different kinds of miso soup laid out. You feel almost intrusive, even more than last week.

You set the table. Osamu fetches hot rice.

It feels unnecessary for you to be here especially if he is with someone else. You do your best to keep your mouth shut. This is a friendly return of favor.

Osamu notices how unusually quiet you are. He chats you up about work. He tries his best to be animated and show interest in your latest project. He asks about your coworkers and your work environment. Were you having fun? Do you get to eat on time?

For dessert, he brings out mochi wrapped in leaves.

“It’s made by the girl I was telling you about.” he remarks, while clearing the dishes.

“Oh,” your heart sinks. You get up and leave, feeling humiliated by your naivety. Of course he’s with her. You feel stupid for even hoping.

You’re about to walk out when he comes back in. “Apparently, she’s been secretly in a relationship with another chef in her family inn. They recently got married and are hoping to start a family soon. She sent these down to inform me. I suppose that solves the problem of having to see someone outside of work—”

He sees you standing. Confusion runs through his expression.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Just stretching…” you lie.

You want to shoot yourself in the foot in embarrassment.

When realization dawns on him, Osamu looks crestfallen. Any energy left in his body abandons him. He sighs, resigned.

“It’s ok if you want to go,” he nods, “Or if I’m making you uncomfortable.”

He bites his lip and looks down on his shoes. The room is still and pregnant with silence.

“I really am just stretching. My hip feels wonky from sitting all day.” you insist with some renewed energy. You grab hold of the pot on the table. “Also, can we get some more hot water? Tea would be nice with the mochi and it’s kind of gone cold.”

He offers to make another pot, relief evident on his face.

“I’ll go heat up the water.” he walks to the kettle, “Are you sure you want dessert?”

You sit back down.

“Yeah, I want to stay.” you murmur. For once you don’t go running to the door.

He glances at you, content, a small smile creeping on his face. ——————————————————

Atsumu, Osamu’s twin brother, always finds himself in his brother’s kitchen every time he visits. He doesn’t mind too much though. It gives them something to do when they catch up.

“Samu, you can’t still be moping around your ex!” Atsumu exclaims. He’s washing Osamu’s dishes as his brother prepares for their meal.

“I’m not ready to get back out there.” Osamu waves dismissively.

Atsumu flicks some water his way. “You’re just not open to seeing someone else.”

His words clearly prick Osamu who throws flour into his face. Atsumu dodges right on time and flicks some flour right back.

Some flour grazes Osamu’s sleeve. He sighs and dusts himself.

“It’s tough, because I’m working all the time. This job doesn’t pay too much and it’s not glamorous. Who’d wanna date someone like me?” he murmurs.

“That’s why you gotta date around to find out!” Atsumu emphasizes, “Maybe you’ll even find someone who might help you with your business when you get married.”

Osamu obstinately shakes his head. “It’s not as easy as you think.”

Atsumu dries his hand and carefully observes his brother. He puts his towel down onto the kitchen counter and raises his brow, “Or maybe I should just give you advice on getting back together.’

As if right on cue, Osamu slams his hand down onto the counter, “I hate that we still haven’t gotten back together. This is killing me!”

Atsumu chuckles in satisfaction. He’s hit the nail right on the head.

“Why has nothing happened yet? I’m already in the city!” Osamu continues on, “They can cook too! Did you know that?! I wish we can skip to the part where we can settle down.”

He vigorously gestures in frustration.

“I cannot! I just cannot move on until I know I’ve given everything to make this work and yet every time I see them all I do is offer them food!”

Atsumu places his hand on his brother’s shoulder, “You need to be more strategic about it. Here’s what you need to do…”

———————————————————————————

Osamu takes a deep breath before knocking at your door. He holds a bag of onigiri in one hand and whatever courage he has in another.

One knock, then another. He hasn’t been this nervous in a long while.

When you open the door, his ear picks up on a male voice inside your house. Combined with your expression, he realizes that he’s come at an inconvenient time.

“I brought you something.” he tries to smile despite the sweat pooling, “I made you lunch. I just wanted to make sure you were eating. We don’t have to talk. I just wanted to give this to you.”

He tries to look past your shoulder, attempting to glimpse at your guests.

“Are you seeing someone else by any chance?” he blurts out, “I want to clarify before I make any more free deliveries.”

You frown. “That’s none of your business, Osamu. You should leave.”

Your frankness pierces something within him. He hadn’t expected to be rejected so quickly.

Osamu’s eyes widen and his mouth drops. He quickly gathers himself before he gets disheartened.

“I want you to give me a second chance. You loved me so deeply. Maybe you can find love in me again.” he says quietly.

“I thought I was too much of a city girl for you,” you retort, despite lacking an edge in your voice. You notice his hands tightly clutching the plastic bag.

The noise at the back seems to melt away. It’s like you’re back in that party, standing too close to each other near the coat rack and the door.

“Maybe you’re not.” his shoulders gracefully go up and down.

You shook your head wryly, “Osamu, I haven’t changed. I like my job and the city. I’m not the life and business partner that you’re looking for. I’m just a customer and we should keep it that way.”

“I can stop if you like.” he offers meekly, putting his hands behind his back.

“Yeah, you should. You’ve hurt me so much.” you cover your mouth with your hands while you try not to sob, “There’s nothing to go back to.”

“I’m sorry I ended things the way I did.” he looks away, “Seeing you walk by me every day feels like penitence…“

You close the door before he says anymore.

Osamu gazes longingly at the door. It’s only now that the full weight of losing you sinks in.

—————————————— “How’d it go?” Atsumu calls to check on Osamu.

Osamu sucks in his breath, his palm pressed on his temple. Atsumu braces himself, this doesn’t sound good.

“They had someone else over.” Osamu is seething in frustration and angry tears.

“Calm down. Were they alone? Or was it a friend group?” Atsumu ’s mind races. He sifts through the situation in an attempt to placate his brother.

“Yeah? No? I don’t know.” Osamu snaps, “They told me she didn’t want to talk about it. Your advice sucks!”

Osamu walks most of the way home. When he catches sight of his store, he curses. He had left his damn bike at your apartment complex! The universe is not giving him any breaks today.

He sighs and continues towards his store. He had a friend watch it while he was away. He’ll have to come pick up after he closes the store.

Throughout the rest of the day, he tries to push you out of his mind. By the time he closes the store, he is bursting at the seams with anticipation to make his way back to your apartment.

Before he sets off, he sees your figure wheeling his bike towards him.

“You left your bike.” you breathe out. You fish something out of your pocket and toss him the key to his bike lock, “You left this in your lock too.”

“Every time you see me, I just look dumber and dumber.” he sighs in exasperation.

You can’t help but burst into laughter at his candidness. He perks up a bit. He hasn’t made you laugh in a while. Of course he’d rather have you laugh with him than at him. Still, this was a start right?

"Did Atsumu put you up to this?" you chuckle, handing the bike over.

“Yeah, how did you know?” he asks dumbfounded.

“I just do.” you scoff, “It’s not like you to show up on people’s doors.”

He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, “Sorry about that. It won’t happen again. It was a moment of weakness.”

Your eyes lower, framing the sad expression that sets into your face, “Yeah, it better not. I’ve moved on.”

You turn around to walk away. In a brief moment of courage, he cups his hands around his mouth.

“I’m not ready to move on from you and if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.” he calls out.

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Taglist: @itstheee-ha-chan @kaizumi @holaaaf @glxar​

Comment or message to be added to the taglist! I’m definitely making a part 2!

[perlukafarinn]

(ao3)

The day starts out pretty unremarkable. Dean wakes up at the crack of dawn to Cas slipping out of bed for his morning jog. He pulls him down for a good-morning kiss that turns into a make-out session that turns into them trading lazy handjobs and then falling asleep in each other’s arms again. 

Their actual start to the day is around ten AM, when Cas finally gets up for his jog and Dean gets up for his cereal and a scroll through the morning news. He’s on the look for hunts, mostly out of habit since there’s been very little monster activity since Chuck went and fucked off for good. He doesn’t find anything this morning but that’s hardly a surprise. It’s been a couple of weeks since they’ve been out on a hunt and that inactivity, weirdly enough, is starting to bother him less and less. 

Cas comes back from his jog about an hour before noon and with the mildest of prodding convinces Dean to join him in the shower. Afterwards, they throw together a lunch made from yesterday’s leftovers, taking their time eating and playing footsie under the table, because that’s apparently the kind of couple they are.

Usually by this time of day, Cas would be off in the Men of Letters’ library working on translations or cataloging and Dean would be on the phone helping Garth help out young, out-of-their depth hunters or in the garage, working on one of the beautiful but sadly neglected vehicles left behind there decades ago. 

Today, both of them are seemingly feeling kind of lazy and so hardly any work gets done. It’s not until late in the afternoon that Dean feels the urge to do something productive and suggests they go out for groceries, which Cas readily agrees to. 

The ride into town is quiet. Cas plays his mixtape - the damn thing should be worn out by now and Dean should  long since be sick of it but for reasons too sappy to mention he isn’t - and they sit and listen in comfortable silence. It’s not until they pass the town hall on their way to the supermarket that Cas gets a contemplative look on his face.

“Should we get married?”

Only years of experience behind the wheel prevent Dean’s hands from twitching wildly and veering them into oncoming traffic.

“What.”

Cas looks over, frowning. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Is there any reason for us not to get married? We’re already planning on staying together for the rest of our lives.”

“Is there any reason-” Dean wheezes. “What the fuck, Cas? Is this your idea of a proposal?”

“Are you saying no?” Cas asks, mildly curious, as if they’re talking about the fucking weather and not getting married. “Because we don’t have to.”

Dean stares ahead, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “Are you actually asking?”

“I suppose I am.”

“You ‘suppose’,” Dean mocks. “Gee, Cas, that’s real romantic.”

“Will you marry me?”

Dean pulls over. It’s far too sudden, probably leaving tire tracks in the concrete, and the driver behind them honks his horn loudly as he passes. Dean ignores him, taking a deep breath as he finally turns to face Cas. 

“Are you sure?”

He doesn’t really have to ask - Cas wouldn’t have brought it up if he wasn’t sure - but he needs to hear it. 

Thankfully, Cas seems to get that. “I want to marry you, Dean. Do you want to marry me?”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean breathes. “I mean - yes. Yeah, I do.”

Cas nods decisively. “Alright then. Now?”

“Now?”

It’s not exactly how Dean imagined this scenario would go (not that he - shut up) but it’s somehow the most romantic fucking thing that’s ever happened to him since Cas first told him he loved him. And hey, this time no one had to die!

They turn around, since there’s no point in going in without (forged) birth certificates. Once they get to the town hall, shortly before closing, they find out that it’s a three-day mandatory waiting period between applying for a marriage license and them actually being allowed to get married.

Cas suggests they use the interim time to pick up wedding rings. They wind up spending the next day driving to Topeka, where they find a couple of silver rings in a pawn shop. They’re tarnished but otherwise in good condition and once they get home, Dean spends the rest of the evening cleaning them while trying very hard not to think about just what they’re for.

The second day, Cas spends out back tending to his garden while Dean almost dials Sam’s number repeatedly before hanging up, torn between wanting to let his brother know that he’s getting married and not wanting to jinx it.

The third day, they head back into town. They arrive at the town hall just after it opens and it’s not until they’re standing in front of the clerk that Dean realizes they don’t have any witnesses. The clerk assures him that they don’t need one for civil ceremonies and the next ten minutes pass in a blur until Dean is being prompted to place the ring on Cas’ finger.

He does so with shaking hands, stilled only once Cas places one of his own on top and gives Dean a patient smile. He’s this calm for a reason, Dean finally realizes.

This doesn’t change anything.

Married or not, they’ve already promised themselves to each other for the rest of their lives. Til death do them part doesn’t even begin to describe it, and in sickness and in health is almost laughable at this point.

This really doesn’t change anything.

Dean’s own hand is still as Cas takes his turn, sliding the silver ring upon Dean’s finger. They say their “I do”s when prompted by the clerk, exchange a short, firm kiss, and just like that it’s over.

They’re married. 

*

When Jody invites them to dinner about a week later, they still haven’t told anyone. Sam and Eileen will be there as well as Jack and the girls - it’s a regular family reunion and the perfect chance to announce the big news to everyone.

Dean has a better idea.

“Let’s not tell anyone,” he says. “At least, not before dessert. Let’s see if they notice first.”

They’re in the Impala, about half an hour away from Jody’s place. 

Cas shoots him an amused look. “Is this because Sam claimed he always knew we’d get together when we first told him we were involved?”

“No,” Dean lies. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, seeing Cas still giving him that look from the corner of his eye. “Fine, yes. But he didn’t know, for the record. He just likes to pretend he’s always on top of this shit.”

“He doesn’t like to admit when you’ve surprised him,” Cas agrees.

The conversation ends there but Dean’s plan is apparently agreed upon since once they arrive at Jody’s, Cas doesn’t say a word about their recent relationship upgrade. Jody doesn’t seem to notice anything different, but then Dean didn’t expect her to. She’s not the one they spend most of their time around. Neither do Donna, Alex, Claire or Kaia, none of them surprises. Patience, Dean is less sure about, but she at least doesn’t say anything. Her eyes do linger unusually long but that could mean anything.

Damn psychics.

Sam and Eileen arrive half an hour after Dean and Cas, Jack in tow. This is the real test; Sam and Dean may not spend as much time together in the past few months as they did in the years before but he’s still the person who knows Dean best and would be the most likely to notice a difference.

And yet, nothing.

Dean tries not to feel too smug.

They go through dinner without anyone mentioning it. Dean makes a point of reaching across the table as many times as he can, showing off the ring glinting on his finger. Cas must notice him doing it, judging by the fond exasperation on his face, but he’s the only one.

It isn’t until dessert that Patience breaks, patience (hah) clearly run out:

“Is no one going to mention that Dean and Castiel are wearing wedding rings?”

And all hell breaks loose.

Sam is wounded - mostly over Dean and Cas not telling him before they got married, though Dean can tell some part of it is his pride at not seeing this coming - but he’s over it soon enough, once they explain that it wasn’t a big deal, not some proper ceremony, just a quick affirmation of what they already knew.

“See if I make you Best Man at my wedding after this, jerk,” Sam tells Dean.

“Your wedding?” Eileen asks pointedly. 

Jody and Donna offer their congratulations before the conversation can get awkward, and Kaia, Alex, and Patience chime in with theirs as well. Jack looks confused at the whole proceeding, finally asking whether this means there won’t be any bouquet to catch, which only means Dean has gravely failed him in his pop culture education (oh, who’s he kidding, as if half the romcoms Jack has watched didn’t come directly from the recommended tab on Dean’s Netflix account). 

Finally, with a pointed elbow from Kaia and a hangdog expression from Cas, Claire mumbles that she’s happy for them. While Dean doesn’t doubt that’s true he also knows that this is more complicated for her than the rest of them, and for the first time he kind of feels guilty about springing this news on everyone. 

It doesn’t last long, not after Donna cheerfully raises her glass and proposes a toast to the happy couple and everyone else follows suit. They chant for them to kiss and, blushing outrageously, Dean complies, leaning over to press a quick kiss against Cas’ lips. 

“So, who proposed?” Sam asks once the hooting and hollering has calmed.

“Cas did,” Dean says, slinging an arm around his husband’s - his husband’s - shoulders. “And it was the least romantic proposal of all time, you should’ve heard him.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “If I had left it up to you, we never would have gotten married.”

“He didn’t even give me time to pick out flowers,” Dean informs Sam gravely. 

“There’s always the vow renewal,” Cas says, the casual statement managing to sound like a threat, and Dean shuts up. 

The conversation moves on, the mood noticeably cheerier. As Jack and Sam launch into a story of their most recent hunt, Dean leans against Cas.

“We could have flowers, if you want,” he mutters. 

Cas smiles at him, so bright and easy that it makes Dean’s heart stutter. He takes Dean’s hand, rubbing his thumb over the cool silver of Dean’s ring.

“That’s not necessary,” he says. “I’ve got everything I want right here.”

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Going back home {Chapter 2}

Summary: Claire never thought she would be back in the town she grew up in. But after her fiancé broke off their engagement, leaving her 5 months pregnant and alone she found herself calling Frankie Morales in the middle of the night, one of her childhood friends who insisted that she booked the next flight out. Trying to fix her life with a little help from her friends she would find out soon that going back would be the best decision she ever made.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Claire Beck

wordcount: 2k

Warnings: pregnancy hormones, pining

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Taglist in reblog

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

“You know your childhood home is for sale?” Claire sat on the patio next to Pope who had decided to catch up with her.

“Seriously?” she asked and he nodded.

“Yeah. It looks bad though.”

“Like every house in this area that’s currently on sale,” she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah there are not many people moving down here, though there seem to be getting more in the last few years.”

“I mean it’s beautiful here,” she let her eyes wander over the landscape. She had always loved it here. Whole summers were spent on the Morales ranch when she was younger. Could have to do with the fact that Pa’ Morales made the best BBQ ever.

“Yeah it is. Better for your girl to grow up here, than in the big city huh?” he asked. She looked at Pope. He had gotten older. The lines around his eyes deeper than before. He always loved to laugh.

“Yeah. Though I didn’t picture it like that. I…” she sighed, feeling silly for the tears in her eyes. Fucking hormones.

“Hey. It’s okay. You gonna be fine,” his hand came down on her knee, squeezing it in comfort.

“Yeah you all keep saying that but it’s not you who has to push a baby out of your vagina without the father being there. It’s not you who has the responsibility to take care of a helpless kid for the rest of your life. I just… why? Why does he get to decide to walk out of this? It’s my pill that apparently didn’t work but it was him fucking me without a condom. He should take the responsibility just as much as I have to. Fuck…” she let her head fall back.

“Fuck him,” she looked up, hearing Frankie’s voice.

“Fuck him. He’s an excuse of a man. You don’t walk away from the woman you love. From the woman who’s carrying your child. Fuck… I was going through rehab while Liz was pregnant and I didn’t walk out…” he kneeled down next to her. She sucked her bottom lip in.

“I just feel so… so…” she shook her head.

“I know. But you’re not alone. You got me,” he looked at her. He was planning on taking her out for lunch when he walked in.

“But it’s not your job to take care of me Frankie. You got your own family.”

“You are family,” Pope said, now standing behind Frankie. “And if you want us to kill him, just say the word,” he teased and she had to laugh at that before she looked at Frankie again.

“I told you. You don’t want a hormonal woman living with you,” she joked and Frankie chuckled.

“I can take living with a hormonal woman,” he reached up to brush away her tears.

“Now what do you say? Lunch?” he asked and she sighed before she nodded.

“I gotta head out. But i’ll bring the house offers I found over tonight, okay?” Pope asked and she nodded. He smiled, leaning down to kiss her cheek before he left.

“I mean it. You’re family. Don’t ever think you’re a burden or alone. We’re here for you. I am here for you, okay?” Frankie said. Claire breathed in deep and nodded.

“Gotta get used to people caring. I was pretty lonely the last few years I guess.”

“Yeah. Better get used to it quickly,” he winked before he helped her out of the seat.

“Gotta get dressed I guess,” she shrugged.

“And I gotta shower. I can smell myself.”

“Yeah. You stink,” she grinned before she walked past him, leaving Frankie head shaking on the patio.

“Lunch is on you,” he called after her and she gave him the finger, making him laugh before he followed her inside to take a shower.

“So what made you open up a gardening business of all things, Morales?” she asked, sitting in the old diner they used to spend so much time in when they were younger. It might be lunch time but she couldn’t wait to have her ordered pancakes.

Frankie shrugged.

“I like being outside, keeps my mind off things.”

“You any good?” Claire teased and Frankie huffed.

“Let’s just say if you need any gardening I won’t be able to help you before the end of the year,” he winked.

“Impressive. I’m happy for you. Even though I still wanna hear the story as to what exactly happened in the last two years…” she said quietly, hearing Frankie sigh.

“Only when you tell me your story.”

She sighed and smiled sadly.

“We have a lot to talk about huh?” she asked.

“Yeah. But in time. Now we gotta eat and then we got to head to the store. Still need some stuff for the BBQ.”

“Fuck how many people are coming to this BBQ? I only have like 5 friends left here and I already met 4 of them,” Clarie groaned, leaning over the shopping cart as Frankie loaded another six pack of beer in.

“Pope kinda invited everyone over he knows so you can get to know everyone.”

“Because I like hanging out with people so much?” she asked, letting her head hang, earning a chuckle from Frankie.

“You and me both. But they’re all okay. Promise,” he squeezed her shoulder in comfort and she smiled a little, bumping her shoulder against his as he came to stand next to her.

“So what else do we need?”

“I got everything. Anything you need?”

“Ice cream?” Claire asked after thinking about it. Frankie only nodded as he grabbed the cart from her and pushed it towards the freezers with the ice cream. Like he had done it a million times before he walked towards the freezer, picking up Claire’s favorite Mint & Chocolate Chip ice cream and threw it in the cart.

“Still your favorite?” he asked as he saw the surprise in her face. She only nodded, a small smile playing at her lips.

“But pick up the mango ice dream too. Been craving that lately,” she grinned and Frankie nodded only before he reached for the biggest container.

The car ride to Frankie’s was quiet, both of them hanging on to their thoughts. It was strange how they seemed to fall back into their old dynamic as if no time had passed. It made Claire aware of just how much time she had spent with him when she was younger.

“This house is for sale,” Frankie said quietly as he stopped in front of the house just down his road.

“Charming…” Claire made a face and Frankie laughed. With lots of imagination she could see herself living here. But not within the next 4 months. This would be harder than she thought it would be.

“Maybe I should have stayed in New York…” she groaned to herself, her head falling back against the seat. She felt a hand on her thigh, her head tilting towards Frankie, unable to see his eyes behind his dark aviators.

“It’s been one day since you got here. We gonna find a house for you,” he squeezed her thigh and she sighed before she looked out of the window again. Frankie felt a weird feeling wash over him, his eyes dropping to the swell of her belly, before he released his hand from her to bring it back to the steering wheel, driving the car the short distance to his farm. A part of him wondered if the choices he made earlier in his life could have prevented some of the stuff he had gone through. Maybe he should have at least tried to go to college. Maybe he would have had a job that wouldn’t have required him leaving for months at the time. Maybe he would have had the guts to tell Claire that he wanted to be more than friends before he left for basic training. But he had found out that she had slept with Santiago, shattering all kinds of hope he might have had, that there was something more between them. To this day he wasn’t sure if maybe there had been more all these years back. He had always been too scared to tell Claire, scared that this would ruin their friendship. A friendship he had missed in the last years. He had wasted years on sleeping with women he never called after until it was a woman, Liz, calling him to tell him that she was pregnant. And he tried to make it work, he really did. A part of him loved Liz, because she was the mother of his child. But that was nothing compared to how he felt when he looked at Claire.

“Is it okay if I take a nap? I’m dead on my feet,” Claire asked as he stopped the car. He blinked at her, so lost in his thoughts. She yawned and he found himself smiling at her.

“Of course. As long as you make your guacamole later?”

She laughed, shaking her head with an eye roll.

“Wake me in two hours?”

“You got it,” he got out of the car, opening the door for her, helping her out. He had noticed her struggling to get out of his truck before.

“Thank you Frankie,” she kissed his cheek before she turned around to walk towards the door. He looked after her until she disappeared inside the house, shaking his head to himself.

“Get it together, Morales,” he whispered to himself before he unloaded the car and got inside himself.

Claire was in the middle of explaining to Frankie how to open an Avocado without killing himself worked, when the door flew open and the Miller brother’s barged inside.

“You got problems with your pipes?” Ben grinned at Claire and she snorted.

“In your Dreams, Miller,” she seasoned the avocados. Frankie shook his head.

“Come on, I show you my pipes,” Frankie teased, making Ben gag while Claire laughed loudly.

“You okay Claire?” Will asked, sitting down at the kitchen island in front of her, after he put the steaks in the fridge. Claire sighed.

“Didn’t think it would be this hard, but Frankie’s a big help,” she smiled a little, tasting the guacamole she was making. She reached for more salt.

“Yeah, he’s awesome. But be gentle with him. The whole custody thing is still pretty fresh,” Will said quietly.

“He hasn’t talked to me about it.”

“He will, I’m sure he will. Just… I mean you probably know him better than I do…”

“I’m gonna take care of him. Promise,” she whispered with a soft smile and Will seemed relieved as he nodded at her.

“Miss Beck. Your pipe problem has been solved,” Ben announced coming back soaked through his shirt back into the kitchen. Claire tilted his head, nodding approvingly at the muscles she could see through his white shirt before she looked up into his eyes with a teasing grin.

“I’ll make sure to preach about your plumbing services, Mr. Miller,” she winked and could swear she saw him blush for a second.

“Enough with the puns, we got a BBQ to prepare. Claire your shower is working,” Frankie emerged from the hallway, pulling a fresh shirt over his head and now it was Claire’s turn to blush before she became very invested in the guacamole in front of her while trying not to think about Frankie’s sunkissed skin on his chest, the little tummy or the dark trail of hair she most certainly didn’t want to lick.

She didn’t see Will’s knowing look before he got up from the seat to follow his brother outside.

Claire was so focused on the guacamole she only saw Frankie’s hand in the last second, slapping it away as he tried to steal a taste of the guacamole.

“Mean,” he pouted.

“Good things come to those who wait,” she grinned before she picked up the bowl to put it into the fridge, bending down to open the freezer for her mango ice cream. Frankie bit his lip as his eyes wandered down her body, averting his eyes before she turned around.

Fuck he wished that good things would be coming to those who waited.

Chapter 3

[slasherhaven]

Hii! Can you write oneshots for Michael, Thomas and the Sinclair brothers where the reader was one of their victims, but after she dies she becomes a ghost, and starts annoying the hell out of them? I love your writing, by the way💖

Thomas, Michael, Bo, Vincent, and Lester have one of their victims come back as a ghost:

Thomas Hewitt

You had appeared down in the basement where Thomas was cleaning up. You couldn’t help but cringe, knowing what he was cleaning up.

“Well, it’s good to know you keep a clean work space” you joked, making him spin around to you with a sharp object in his hand.

As soon as he saw you, he recognised your face. He had...killed you...but here you were.

“What? Don’t remember me? I’m offended! You didn’t kill me that long ago. You must move on quick” you mocked offence, placing your hand over your heart, unable to feel it beating like you used too.

This was a lot to process for both you and Thomas.

What surprised him more than you being a ghost was how unbothered you seemed.

Then he realised that your goal seemed to be annoying him.

You talked and talked as he continued to clean up, pointing out where he missed a spot and chastising him for it.

That night at dinner, you stand uncomfortably close to him. Looking between the plate of food and his face, asking “are you going to eat that? Really? Right in front of my face?”. It’s fair to say that he doesn’t eat the meat that night, and luckily nobody else can see or hear you.

Even when he’s trying to sleep, you’re there. Sitting on his dresser, chatting away.

While you are wildly irritating...you’re oddly nice to have around. It’s nice to hear somebody talk about something different, something that isn’t death or misery despite you being...dead.

He has to hide his smile whenever you mock Hoyt. Apparently you remembered the older man as well and seemed to dislike him a lot despite seeming rather neutral on Thomas, even if he was the one who actually killed you.

Yes, you were annoying, you were dead, only Thomas could see or hear you, and you made Thomas feel guilty about what he did to you but...but at the same time you were upbeat and positive. And, no matter what, that was still a nice change.

Michael Myers

He was actually pursuing his next victim when you first showed up.

“Quick! She’s getting away!” you shouted after him.

He paused before slowly turning to you. His grip on his knife tightening, just planning to kill you but then he recognised your face...no, you must have just looked like on of his previous victims.

“Hey you already killed me, shouldn’t you be chasing her or something?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

He would still try to kill you, driving his knife through you only for you to blink up at him, looking completely unamused.

“This is familiar” you commented with a small laugh, completely unfazed.

For now Michael would ignore you just to kill the victim he had been chasing.

He expected you to just leave or disappear but you started following him everywhere he went. 

Even when he wasn’t doing anything, you were there. Talking about nothing important, reading news reports about him. You even read the report about your own murder to him, talking and laughing about it like it was ‘the good old days’.

You were driving Michael insane. 

He still tried to kill you at least once a day or just throwing things at you. But that just doesn’t do anything, you’re still there and still annoying him.

You can try all you won’t to get in the way of his kills but you can’t prevent them. Though the chastising you give him afterwards might start to be enough to get him to stop, god you’re so irritating.

You’re just...always there. You won’t leave. You won’t shut up. And you aren’t scared of him!

While some might start to warm up to your constant presence, Michael won’t. Not for a very long time at least.

Bo Sinclair

Bo had literally been washing the blood off of his hands when you appeared in the bathroom.

He saw you appear in the mirror and spun around to face you, his face scrunching up in confusion when he recognised you. You were one of his latest victims, he had killed you before leaving you with Vincent. 

But...here you were.

“What the fuck?” Bo asked, more to himself than you. He must have been seeing things.

“If you can kill me, I’m sure you can deal with seeing me again” you scoffed. “I knew you couldn’t be trusted. All that fake charm, well now you’re stuck with me” you shrugged, a smile growing on your face.

“Is that my blood?...you should finish cleaning up” your nose scrunched up in mock disgust.

Bo huffed before finishing cleaning the blood off of his hands, thinking that maybe that would make you go away.

But you stayed, following him around.

He quickly realised that his brothers couldn’t see or hear you, you were here purely to bother him apparently.

You never shut up, talking about whatever came to mind, commenting on every little thing he did, just bothering him. 

He’s definitely told you that he wished he could kill you again a few times.

The most annoying thing you do is chastise him when he picks on Vincent. Sure he played a part in your death too but you still didn’t like how Bo sometimes treated his brother!

No, actually he’s changed his mind. The most annoying thing you do is when you correct him and turn out to be right! That angers him to no end.

At some point, after he had grown used to but not fond of your presence, you had told a stupid pun but it had made him laugh...now he never hears the end of it.

Vincent Sinclair

The first time you appeared to him was in his work room. He was actually working on your figure for the wax museum.

You had appeared behind him, looking around the room curiously now that you had the chance to do so.

“Is that me?” your voice made Vincent jump and turn to you. He was prepared to attack the intruder but as soon as he saw you he instantly recognised you as one of his last victims. But...that wasn’t possible.

“Huh...that is me...” you examined the was sculpture, “hate to compliment my killer and everything but...this is actually pretty good. Looks just like me. You got the eyes right and everything.”

Vincent just watched you in pure confusion. “Oh no, you remembered right. You killed me, a day or two ago...I’m not sure, time has been kinda wobbly with the whole dying thing” you walked right past him, continuing to look around, completely unfazed.

Vincent kind of assumed that you would...disappear at some point but you didn’t. You just continued to follow him around, commenting on his artwork, complaining about the abandoned town, complaining that he wasn’t paying attention to you. It seemed that you existed purely to annoy him.

But then you started doing things that made him warm up to you. You would do things to make him smile and laugh, such as mimicking Bo or just making fun of him. Of course the others couldn’t hear or see you but Vincent had to stop himself from laughing.

Then you’d do things that would even manage to make him smile and blush, usually by complimenting his work.

He actually began to grow fond of you, having you around so much. It was nice to have somebody around that wasn’t his brothers.

You never seemed mad at him or sacred about that fact that he had killed you not all that long ago. You actually always had a smile for him. Maybe being dead had something to with that...

Lester Sinclair

Lester had just gotten home after helping his brothers deal with the most recent group of victims, that was when you appeared to him.

Well, you were already sitting on the couch in his leaving room with your feet up like you owned the place.

“I thought I...” his voice trailed off, too in shock to even process what exactly was happening.

“Killed me? Yeah, you did but I’m back. Spooky right?” you waved your hands in an amusing way, completely unfazed by the events that had occurred only hours ago.

“Uh...sorry?” Lester apologised awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

Okay, that actually managed to surprise you a little.

After that you were just always around, always following him or just with him.

He realised that his brothers couldn’t see or hear you either which only confused him further. But he decided not to question it too much, just going with the flow.

He is the most likely to just communicate to you. He likes that you talk so much because he likes to talk a lot too and isn’t a huge fan of silence. 

You might be there to annoy him but he’s difficult to annoy.

He’s knows it’s kinda sad but...he kinda likes having you around. He doesn’t live in town with his brothers and it’s oddly nice to have you around so he doesn’t have to be alone. Plus, it’s nice to have somebody to talk to other than his brothers.

He grows fond of you the quickest. He feels guilty about having killed you but you don’t seem mad at him, he still apologised a few times.

Again, as sad as he knows it is, Lester starts to see you as a friend.

[janetbrown711]

“   it’s  okay ,   i’m  here .   i’ll  always  be  here .   ” Wakko yakko dot

Wakko wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this. 

He was barely holding on as it was, always trying to keep on a happy face for his sibs, make them believe everything was okay. Dot was a lot easier to trick than Yakko, but even he could be swayed with very little effort. After all, it was very clear that their parents were never going to come back...

It had been almost a year. Wakko still missed them every day. He missed their protection... Yakko was trying, that was true, but even he could get distracted. Sometimes he’d be studying off in the library when Wakko needed food, so he’d have to figure it out on his own because God knows he couldn’t ask his grandmother for anything. Wakko figured it out for the most part, but it was easy to say he missed quite a few meals over the years because of fear of disturbing Her. 

Wakko knew she placed his room by hers for the specific purpose of making his life a living hell without his sibs. After all, she hated him. The only reason she’d want to be near is if she wanted to keep an eye out, or if she wanted to hurt him somehow. Well- she succeeded on that end anyway, though perhaps the better word was torture. 

Sure, sometimes Wakko could manage to sneak past if he crawled on his hands and knees and put socks on his feet and hands, but he was filled with anxiety that simply wouldn’t leave him the whole time. He was terrified of getting his sibs in danger- a trait he knew he shared with both of them. 

They were all putting on a happy face, he supposed. 

He couldn’t say it was all bad... he was getting better at reading. Dot read easy stuff which helped him boost his confidence, while Yakko read more difficult stuff to make sure he was actually learning, which- while Wakko kinda hated it- he couldn’t deny worked. He was getting better- he was actually learning things, which felt nice. 

Though they had had a few close calls here and there...

Wakko wasn’t sure what would happen if they got caught, but he was pretty sure they’d get into serious trouble. For whatever reason, Angelina really hated the fact Wakko was stupid but hated him trying to better himself even more. It was like she wanted a bug under her shoe to squish just for fun... the thought made Wakko shudder. 

So... the year had its good moments, but... a year had really taken it’s tole. The only major good part was that Angelina stopped wearing that stupid veil and pretended to be grieving. Now you knew what she was thinking and saying, which... well... good and bad. 

Good and bad. 

“What’s this word, Wakko?” Yakko asked, pointing to a particularly long one on the page in front of Wakko. He frowned at it. 

“I dunno,” he shrugged. 

“You’re a smart kid, sound it out,” Yakko said. Wakko winced a little and looked at the page. 

In truth, he sometimes debated with himself whether it was better to be stupid or to be smart. He wanted to know things, but at the same time knowledge seemed like a burden more than anything. At least- that’s what he got from observing Yakko. Yakko always had something on his mind, something big, while Wakko hardly ever thought about things other than food or some imaginary story he likes playing on repeat to keep himself busy while his sibs were gone. 

“in... for...ma...ti..own?” He looked at his elder brother. 

“Close. Information. Tion sounds like shun,” Yakko pointed out. 

“Right, that’s information,” he nodded. He knew the words, he was nine after all, but reading just make them look unfamiliar. 

Yakko was then going to make him read the full sentence again, but a familiar shout was heard right outside, and the boys froze as the door swung open. 

“Yakko- calm this child down,” Angelina shoved Dot, who was crying, towards Yakko, when her eyes feel upon them. 

“What on earth is going on here?” She glared at Wakko, and he felt his heart beat faster. 

“W-well I-i was just-” Yakko tried to think of what to say as Dot went to him, but Angelina yanked Dot back, before going to Yakko herself and slapping him across the face and he slammed into a bookshelf, books spilling out onto him.

“What did I tell you?! You are not to educate that bastard creature, lest you and him face serious consequences,” She fumed. 

“No!!! Don’t hurt him!!!” Dot continued to cry. Wakko growled and just about lept out of the chair, but Angelina grabbed him by the ears. 

“This is on you,” She spat, and began to drag Wakko out of the room. 

“No! It’s my fault! I forgot the dress type! Please! Punish me instead!” Dot insisted, stepping out in front of Angelina. 

“Oh Angelina,” The queen shook her head, placing a soft hand against Dot’s face. Dot froze.

“If you get in my way again I assure you his punishment will be increased ten fold.” She whispered harshly. 

“Now be a good girl Angelina, and run along now. You have much to study,” She smiled sweetly. 

“My name is Dot,” She muttered to herself, bearing her teeth.

“Dot, no,” Wakko pleaded with her. Angelina tightened her pull on his ears. 

“It’d be wise for you to listen to him for once,” She smiled more. Dot growled again, but stepped backward, and looked back at Wakko. 

“Angelina. Move,” She ordered. Dot looked at the arm holding Wakko, a very obvious thought popping into her head. Angelina growled. 

“I expected more from you,” She said, before kicking Dot to the ground and moving on, giving Wakko’s ears a massive tug before continuing on. 

Wakko heard Dot get up from behind, trying to keep her distance, but her tears made her noticeable. 

Quickly and painfully, they turned around halls and owners of the castle, before Wakko realized she wasn’t going to be putting him in his room, and he was filled his dread and terror. 

“Wh-where are you taking him?!” Dot shouted at her, once she had the same thought. 

“That is none of your concern, Yakko.” She said coldly. “I’m teaching you three a lesson.”

“Let go of him!” Dot shouted again as Angelina started to go up the enormous stairwell. The queen ignored her, climbing higher and higher. 

“I said let him go!” Dot shouted, pulling on her dress like she had a year ago. Angelina froze, before turning around, dangling Wakko off of the stairs above the at least 20 foot drop below, only holding him by his neck.

“Shout at me again young lady, and I will,” She threatened. Dot gasped, covering her mouth. 

“Wait- please! Don’t hurt him-!” She begged, and Wakko did his best not to be terrified for his life but uh- 20 ft drop. 

“Go back downstairs, Angelina. You’ve done enough today,” She spat in her face. Dot wanted to protest, but the queen lifted Wakko higher and Dot backed down, lowering her head in shame as more tears streamed down. 

“Good girl,” The queen smiled, and patted her head, before turning around and continuing to drag Wakko up, Dot’s sobs echoing as they went all the way to the top. At this point, Wakko was pounding and kicking against her best he could, but she proved herself to have gotten wiser about that, as her long silk gloves prevented scratches or bites to her skin, and her pure gold bracelets also didn’t help. 

Eventually, she reached the top of the familiar tower, and she tossed him in like an animal. She closed and locked the heavy iron door and the sound made Wakko’s head hurt. 

“How long do you plan to leave me here, huh?!” He demanded, running to the door. However, to his horror, she left without a word to him. He listened closely to the door, still hearing Dot’s cries when he heard her yelp in pain. Wakko pounded on the door, but since it was no longer wood, all that ended up doing was hurting his hand. Wakko cringed in the pain, but knew there was nothing he could do. 

He was locked in here... for who knows how long. Could be days, weeks... months...

If she even bothered to keep him alive, which was something she was clearly starting to debate more and more as time passed. Wakko didn’t want to die-

At least... not yet. 

Perhaps it was foolish, but he did still have a shred of hope for his future, though it only got cloudier and cloudier as days passed. He tried to remember the advice and optimism of his dad, but that only brought up the painful feeling of him being gone. The same thing happened when he tried to imagine his mom comforting him too. 

After awhile of him just sitting on the cold and filthy floor in shock and pain, he heard pounding on the door. 

“Wakko? Wakko? Are you in there?” Yakko called from outside. 

“Y-yeah!” he replied, wiping his eyes. 

“We-we’re gonna get you out Wakko. I promise,” he declared. 

“Yakko, you can’t promise that,” Wakko frowned. 

“Yes I can Wakko. We’re going to get you out,” He asserted. 

“She’ll kill you- she’ll kill me if you try,” Wakko pleaded. 

“I know... but... w-we’ll escape. Run away to a far off town where no one will find you two. We’ll be safe,” Yakko said, becoming more and more desperate.

“You’ve said it yourself: a place like that doesn’t exist,” Wakko crossed his arms, leaning against the cold door.  He heard Yakko do the same. 

“We... we could...” Yakko tried to think. 

“Yakko... you should just forget about me. You and Dot would be fine without me, I hold you two down. I should just- stay up here and- and die,” Wakko pulled his knees to his chest. 

“Wakko!” he gasped. “Don’t say that!” he said, much softer. 

“Grandma will never care about me, a-and mum and d-daddoo are gone s-so... it would just be easier for me to stay here... away from you two... just like she wants,” He suppressed tears best he could, but choken on the lump in his throat. 

“Wakko, no.” Wakko heard him turn around to face the door again. 

“No matter what happens, we are not going to give up on you. I’m here- I’m always gonna be here, Wak,” He spoke softly. 

“Mum and Dad said they’d be here too...”

A painful silence hummed through the air. It hurt to even breathe after he spoke. Wakko gave in and cried. 

“Wak... I-i... I don’t know what to say...” Yakko said. 

“Just go away- before you get locked away too,” He sobbed. 

Yakko didn’t respond, staying there for a long, long time. 

Wakko didn’t say anything either. 

“We will rescue you Wak... I promise,” Yakko repeated, before standing up and going. 

Wakko stayed on the floor the rest of the day. 

.o0o.

Angelina hadn’t been sending servants to give him food, only water. 

Wakko had been up there for three days and it was easily the most miserable he had ever been in his life. 

He knew his mother had been sent up there at least once. He could see her carvings in the wall, and scratches on the floor, which he traced over his finger and slowly read. 

“Yakko? Slacky? Wacky?” and “Harold the 9th” were written beside the bed. There was a tally for what he assumed were days next to the broken mirror. Other random words he couldn’t quite read were sprawled all around. 

Yakko came up to talk every now and then, but he never could stay long. Wakko kept meaning to ask him for food, but he knew Angelina was strict on eating hours, so it was unlikely he could sneak into the kitchen to grab anything anymore. It just... wasn’t that simple any more. 

He also promised he was thinking of an escape. Wakko thanked him for the effort, but his hope wasn’t high.

Dot came at one point too. She cried and apologized and explained how it was her fault their grandmother got mad, saying how she hadn’t read the page she was supposed to the night before and didn’t know the types of dresses and she got mad, which made her cry, which made her take her to Yakko, which caused everything else. Wakko told her not to blame herself, but he knew that wasn’t going to resinate. Just another way their grandmother tightened her grip around them. 

But for the most part, he was alone. Utterly and perfectly alone...

He had his little imaginary games in his mind, but even those ran out eventually, mostly due to the cold. Stupid early winters...

One particularly cold night, Wakko said “screw it” and went to the window an looked out at the stars. 

They shined a lot better all the way up here, at least that was nice...

As he looked up, a chill ran through him and he was reminded of just how hungry he was. He cringed in the pain, and looked up at the stars, having run out of tears days ago. 

“I... I wish mum and dad were still here... If they were alive everything would go back to being okay...” he whispered weakly to the brightest star he could see. The stars twinkled back. 

Wakko sighed, lowering his head, continuing to look when he noticed that the star appeared to be growing larger- that wasn’t normal, right? And if it’s not, was it actually happening, or was he just seeing things because he was hungry?

It also appeared to be growing closer- that wasn’t good. Too close and it’d probably destroy the whole castle. Wakko scrambled back from the window and pounded on the door for help, but nobody heard or came. Wakko braced himself as the light got brighter and brighter and eventually filled the dark tower. 

However, nothing crashed or burned or turned him into goop, so Wakko slowly turned around and opened his eyes, and he saw a glowing figure in a really poor looking rope, cheap wand, and wings. 

Well- that was interesting. 

“Uh- who are you?” Wakko asked, really uncomfortable with the idea of a stranger popping into his prison out of nowhere. 

“I’m your desire fulfillment facilitator, Pip,” the desire fulfillment facilitator said dryly. Wakko blinked. 

“Uh- hi, Pip,” he said. 

“Congradulations Wakko, you did it. Out of all of the stars in the night sky, you made your wish up the wishing star,” He said, so monotone Wakko wanted to tears his ears off despite the fact that he was saying good news. 

“The Wishing Star? I’ve never heard of a Wishing Star,” He frowned. 

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you stories?” He asked. Wakko shook his head. 

“Hm... doesn’t matter. You did it anyway. It was your request for a wish that brought me here,” he said. 

“Wait- so- you can bring my parents back?” Wakko realized. He nodded, and Wakko almost passed out. 

“You’ve decided on your wish?” He asked. 

“I just said-”

“Right, right. Welp- here it goes,” Pip snapped his fingers, and ball of green light shot across the sky, and crashed far, far away- behind the mountains in the horizon. Wakko frowned. 

“Hey, what gives? It couldn’t be any closer than that?” He frowned. 

“Oh whoops, too late to fix now,” Pip scratched the back of his neck. Wakko gave him a look. “Looks like you have quite the trek ahead of you.”

“Yeah... I guess so,” Wakko couldn’t be sour for long, now entranced by the bright light. 

“And you better be going if you don’t want competition to build up,” Pip added. 

“What?! How am I supposed to reach it if I’m stuck in this tower! These rules are completely unfair,” Wakko crossed his arms. 

“Don’t worry Wakko, your siblings will be coming to get you soon, you’ll just have to tell them where to go,” Pip explained. 

“Huh?” He tilted his head when he heard footsteps not far away from the door. 

“I must go now- just remember this: the one who touches the fallen star first gets their wish. If you aren’t first, you don’t get it,” He said.

“What’s the point of me wishing on the star then, if it’s just up for grabs? that’s lame,” He crossed his arms. 

“Whoops- I gotta go, bye,” He waved and turned to star dust before disappearing completely, right before he heard a knock at the door. 

So much for that guys help. 

“Wakko?” It was Yakko. 

“Yakko? What’re you doing here?” Wakko asked. 

“We’ve come to break you out,” Dot chimed in, and a very, very, very long rope made of several sheets was pushed through his “meal slot”. 

Wakko didn’t know what to say. 

“Tie one end to the hook by the window and climb down- my advice is to not look down and pretend like it’s just training with Dad. Plus, me and Dot will be waiting for you at the bottom,” Yakko explained. 

“Wait- I have to tell you,” Wakko interrupted. 

“What?” Yakko asked, surprised Wakko wasn’t protesting. 

“I-i made a wish at a star tonight and well- apparently it was the wishing star so now we have to go- like... really actually go so I can make my wish and then everything will be okay and happy just like it used to be,” Wakko said. 

“The... wishing star? I thought that was just some kiddy bedtime story...” Yakko said, mostly to himself. 

“Well- apparently not,” Wakko said, taking one end and tying it to the hook like Yakko said. Yakko sighed. 

“We’ll talk about this once you’re down. Me and Dot are gonna wait at the bottom,” He said. 

“Okay... see you on the other side,” Wakko said, making the mistake at looking at how far away down was, but was surprised the rope actually went all the way down. 

That was a lot of sheets. 

“You got this Wakko!” Dot encouraged, before he heard the two of them go. 

Right. He had this. 

He may not have been very smart, but he was a good climber. He could do this...

At least, he hoped anyway. 

He promised right then and there that if he was going to make it out of this alive, he was definitely going to go to the Wishing Star- it couldn’t be more dangerous than climbing down a 50 foot rope made of tied sheets, 

...Could it?

.o0o. 

Lena despised being in recovery more than anything. She had been rendered practically immobile because of her broken leg, and her weakened muscles took months of physical therapy to rest and recover. 

Every day she thought of her children, and missed them dearly. She knew when all of their birthdays were and was overcome with grief as each passed. 

She was supposed to be there, with them. Celebrating, laughing, protecting.

Instead?

Now she was in William’s hometown, mooching off of their generosity because of her title, feeling utterly and totally useless. 

After months and months of healing and resting and physical therapy she was finally back to semi-functionality. Sure, she could now go for strolls at night with William (it was part of her physical therapy- stupid leg injuries), but she knew she still couldn’t actually do anything- she still couldn’t go back to the castle and put an end to her mother’s reign. They’d be caught- called imposters and possibly be killed. 

Lena couldn’t imagine making her children go through them dying twice. 

“Lena..? What are you thinking about this night?” William asked softly, and Lena remembered where she was. 

“Just... everything,” she sighed. William kissed her hand. 

“We’ll figure it out, I promise,” He said. Lena closed her eyes and tried to believe it. 

“A year William... My mother must’ve done numerous unspeakable things to them by now...” She looked away at the plaza. He squeezed her hand. 

“I was thinking of the same thing...” he said. Lena put her head on his shoulder. 

“I miss Wakko’s jokes... I miss Yakko’s wit... I miss Dot’s smile,” Lena said, smiling a little at the memory. 

“We’ll figure it out soon, i promise,” he kissed her head and closed his eyes as they sat on a bench outside the hospital.

“Soon...” she echoed. 

Soon her ass. 

Soon was a ridiculous unit of time. No matter how much time had passed, everything seemed to be “soon”. The word drove her mad. 

She was going to say something about this, when suddenly a bright green shooting star suddenly soared through the sky, grabbing her attention as it went all the way down before suddenly crashing down behind the Acme Mountains. 

“William- did you see that?” Lena tugged on his arm. 

“See what?” He tilted his head. 

“That star- it crashed just behind Acme Moutains,” She shook him so he opened his eyes and he quickly saw it. 

“That’s- no... that couldn’t be..? Could it?” He squinted at it. 

“I think it is...” Lena said. 

“You think the Wishing Star could actually be real?” He asked. 

“My father taught me about it when I was a little girl, the books are still in the library. My mother never approved of fictional books- it has to be true,” Lena quickly stood up. 

“Careful Lena, you’re still-”

“Oh hush William. Don’t you know what this means?” She asked. “This is our chance- we reach the wishing star we can reunite with the kids- and take down my mother for good.” 

“And everything would be perfect again...” William couldn’t help but smile. He stood and kissed her. 

“C’mon- we haven’t a moment to waste,” Lena said. 

“Woah, woah, woah. Lena, it’s very late. We need to go to sleep,” He said. 

“But- William- it’s right there,” She frowned. 

“Yes, but we’ll have to get a horse or two to share and it’ll be a long and treacherous journey- those mountains aren’t exactly easy to get through,” William warned. Lena sighed. 

“But... it’s right there... Our kids...” She looked at it. 

“I know... but I promise Lena, it’ll still be there in the morning. Wishing Stars aren’t common knowledge, and we’ll have the distance advantage,” William said. “So please... let’s get some rest before we go out, alright?” 

Lena sighed. “I hate when you’re right.”

“You love me,” He teased. 

“I know,” She rolled her eyes and kissed his cheek. “But.. tomorrow?”

He nodded. “Tomorrow. We’ll head out first thing in the morning.”

“To the Wishing Star...” She smiled. 

They were going to see their kids again after all. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

[ashesandhalefire]

i know, you know

alex, michael, and a lonely hearts club gone slightly awry.

-

inspired by @malex-cupid day one and three themes: wooing my way into your heart and valentine’s day.

-

“Okay, here’s a nightmare scenario,” Michael says as he eases back down onto the couch with another slice of pizza in his hand. He crosses his ankles on the coffee table and bites the tip off. Alex raises an eyebrow expectantly, drawing a sip from his beer, and Michael nods. After a rough swallow, he wipes the corner of his mouth with his thumb. “I once hooked up with a girl on February thirteenth. Totally lost track of the date.”

Alex rolls his eyes. “That’s not a nightmare scenario for someone like you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Michael takes another bite of his pizza and tries to talk around a mouthful of cheese, face twisted with playful indignation. “Someone like me?”

Alex leans his head against the back of the couch and says, “Charming people never end up in nightmare scenarios because they can, by default, charm their way out of anything.”

Brow furrowing, Michael wrinkles his nose. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called charming in my life. A few other choice words, sure, but not charming.”

“Well, I guess my perspective is a little different from the sheriff’s department. In my experience, you have a tendency to be very good at saying the right thing.” Alex wiggles his left foot where it sits, tucked beneath the center cushion on the couch, and rubs distractedly at his right knee. The knot in his sweatpants jostles close to Michael’s hip.

Entirely by accident, he’s significantly more dressed-down than Michael is in his slim jeans and crisply colored flannel. Neither piece of Michael’s outfit has the well-worn softness of his usual wardrobe, none of the torn seams or threadbare elbows, but the top two buttons of his shirt are undone like always and the collar hangs wide against his clavicle. Alex tries not to let his eyes linger.

As he chews through another bite, Michael stares back at him, and the gaze feels heavy enough that Alex turns away. “And, please, you’re sitting on my couch, watching my television, drinking my beer, and eating my pizza. If that’s not the direct result of charm, what is it?” 

“Dumb luck,” Michael says. Amusement glints in his eyes as he licks his lips. “Besides, this whole lonely hearts club thing was your idea.” 

“Yeah, but it was originally a party of one.”

Alex had quickly opted out, making his answer a polite but firm no, when Kyle mentioned the flier on the Crashdown’s front door that advertised the latest Wild Pony cash-grab attempt, but that hadn’t prevented him from running face-first into Isobel’s advertising efforts all over town for the next week and a half. General buzz at the post office and hospital implied that her reputation for event planning had drummed up some genuine interest from the locals, and that in and of itself cemented his plan for the weekend as pizza, beer, and whatever cable had to offer. His plan had, at no point, included running into Michael in the candy aisle at RiteAid at three o’clock in the afternoon on Valentine’s Day.

With an armful of personal care items marked with discount stickers, Michael had taken one look at the prescription envelope in Alex’s right hand and the box of chocolates in his left and said, “Got a hot date?”

“No,” Alex had said, wishing he’d chosen to put on something neater than his faded sweatpants. Michael rarely looked presentable by general standards, but he always looked good. “Just chronic pain and a sweet tooth.”

“You should come back tomorrow,” Michael had suggested. “Better sales after the holiday.”

“True, but then I won’t have anything to eat tonight.”

Michael had visibly perked, even though his face stayed neutral. “You’re not going to the singles night thing at the Pony? I thought Valenti would have roped you in for sure.”

“No.” Fleetingly, Alex had considered the idea of wandering through the crowded bar, equally decorated in distasteful neon and garish party store hearts, and trying to pick which of the Pony’s regular stock might like to have his drink bought by an openly gay veteran with one leg while his friends watch from the sidelines of their depressingly stable relationships. “There’s not enough booze in the world.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Michael had laughed. He hadn’t quite met Alex’s eye as they both carefully side-stepped the rest of the conversation. Alex had stopped paying attention, so he wasn’t sure if Michael had retaken to running up a tab yet. “Is is completely pissed at me, but I told her there was no way in hell.”

Alex had swallowed. “Got a hot date?”

“Totally,” Michael had said. He held up his hand and wiggled his fingers. “I think you’ve met him.” 

In retrospect, Alex blames the rest of the conversation on the fact that he’s been unshakably in love with Michael since he was seventeen. For the better part of a month, he’s been trying to work up the courage to throw out a line. But they exist in a strange no-man’s-land of casual acquaintanceship that borders on friendship and romance simultaneously, and Alex hasn’t quite found the right way out yet. 

“If you don’t have plans tonight, you could swing by.” Michael, already at the end of the aisle when Alex called after him, had looked mildly startled when he turned around. “We can get pizza. Or something. Whatever goes with beer.”

“Everything goes with beer in my world.”

“It’ll be a lonely hearts club type of thing,” Alex had said, primarily for the deniability. 

Michael had cocked his head. His eyes drifted lower and lower until they paused and climbed back up Alex’s body at a crawl. “Are you lonely?”

“I had a nose ring, remember?” Alex had clutched the prescription bag in his fist with a crunch and forced himself to laugh, even as bashful panic squeezed at his throat. “You don’t end up with a nose ring and Danger posters on your walls at seventeen unless you’re deeply lonely.”

A slow smile had stretched across Michael’s face, and he ducked his head like it was too private to share with the open aisle. When he looked up again, he wrinkled his nose to help steady his armful of bottles with a nudge of his telekinesis. “I’ll see you at six, then. Pizza and beer.”

Now, Michael breaks a wayward string of cheese away from his last bite and asks, “You want me to go home? Leave you to your pity party?” 

“No. I’m enjoying the company. I think it’s because you’re so charming.”

Michael laughs. “You’re so full of shit.”

“Fine, don’t believe me. But hooking up with a girl who was looking for a hookup on the day before Valentine’s Day is not a nightmare scenario.”

“Alright,” Michael says, nudging Alex’s bent knee, “so give me a better example.”

“Uh, pizza and beer with a guy that never learned how to chew with his mouth closed?”

Michael tears into the crust of his slice and says, muffled by food, “I’ll leave anytime. Just say the word.”

Alex pulls his foot out from under the couch cushion and rolls his heel into the side of Michael’s thigh. “Don’t be disgusting!”

Mashing his teeth, Michael chews with his mouth open for another two bites and then relents. He drops a hot palm into the exposed skin of Alex’s ankle, holding it in place, and Alex manages not to react until Michael strokes his thumb into the hollow beside his Achilles tendon. 

“I need a refill. Do you want another beer?” he asks, pulling his leg away and turning to plant his foot on the floor. He bends down to grope beneath the couch for his crutch. 

“Yeah, I’ll take another one.” Michael stands, taking his empty bottle in hand, and says, “I’ll get it. I know my way around the fridge.”

As he shuffles between the couch and the coffee table, he drops a hand onto Alex’s left shoulder and squeezes. The touch is gone almost as soon as it starts, but Alex still lets out an audible squeak on his next exhale. 

Being touch-starved is hardly new, but it makes him feel like an especially pathetic rescue cat when his body shivers at the barest graze. Twice it happened when Kyle leaned over to look at his laptop and put a hand on his back while they worked on the salvaged hard drives together, and Alex had barely been able to hide the heated flush in his cheeks. It’s more humiliating with Michael, somehow, because Michael has always been exactly the same. He’s always turned into Alex’s touch with eagerness, always looked for the most contact he could find. Something about touch between them turning casual and unaffecting on his end while Alex is gasping like an Austen heroine is especially unsettling.

He takes three deep breaths, holding the air in his chest and releasing through pursed lips, and then Michael squeezes between the end table and the chair with two beers. He twists the tops off with a twitch of his nose, and Alex watches the bent metal land on the coffee table with a ding. 

“Show off,” he says as Michael hands him a bottle. Their fingers brush against the glass. “You’ve never fought with a jar of pasta sauce in your life.”

Michael eases back down onto the couch, snagging the last garlic knot from the crimped tinfoil on the coffee table on the way, and says, “Rubber band trick works wonders. Not that I’ve ever needed it.” 

“Smug bastard.”

Alex watches the bob of Michael's throat as he takes a long draw from his beer. 

“Oh, here. Almost forgot.” Michael pops the rest of the garlic knot into his mouth and lifts his hips off the couch to give himself room to root around his pocket. After a moment of tugging, he tosses something across the couch. It lands on Alex’s thigh. “For your sweet tooth.”

Alex stares down at the packet of SweeTARTS heart candies, emblazoned with the same sentimental phrases as classic conversation hearts. “These are sour.”

“Well, yeah, but aren’t those the ones you like?”

Fingers toying with the crimped edges of the paper wrapping, Alex nods. 

“Then Happy Valentine’s Day.” Michael sucks a spot of oil and garlic from his thumb. “I had to go to, like, four different CVS stores to find them.”

“Thank you,” Alex says. “You didn’t— I didn’t get you anything.”

Michael shrugs. “You paid for dinner. Least I could do was pick up some candy.” 

-

-

Darkness creeps up on them while they trade sarcastic commentary about the fake detective comedy marathon they found on a higher cable channel. The lone bulb still on over the sink casts a warm yellow glow across the kitchen and dining room, and the living room flickers between dark and light as the scenes change on the television. 

Alex glances down at Michael, who has made himself comfortable with one leg dangling off the edge of the couch and the other curled up against the arm. His head rests on a pillow that he laid atop Alex’s right leg, and he has Alex’s left leg stretched out in front of his chest to keep it from blocking his view.

The shift was gradual: he slumped sideways and curled his legs up; he leaned on his elbow and tried to stretch out; he whined about his neck and grabbed the pillow off the floor, checking that it wouldn’t bother Alex’s knee if he put pressure on it; and he grabbed Alex’s left leg by the ankle to straighten it out while complaining that he couldn’t see. And now Alex’s shin is pinned beneath Michael’s palm, feeling the rise and fall of Michael’s chest whenever he chuckles at one of the jokes. 

They’ve spent hours together, rolling around in Michael’s cot and the back of his truck and motel beds, but Alex isn’t sure they’ve ever been more intimate. Quiet stillness has always been difficult for them to come by, and he can barely remember the last time they spent an afternoon together without some sense of doom hanging over their heads. They’ve certainly never laid on a couch together for four hours. 

Michael shifts, rolling onto his side, and his hand drifts down towards the top of Alex’s foot. The calluses on his palm catch against the weave of his sock, and Alex listens to the faint scratch of material without breathing. After a moment, Michael’s fingers slip beneath the elastic at the bottom of his sweatpants, and he strokes absently at the ball of Alex’s ankle. 

The fears and the doubts are as present as they’ve been for the last few weeks. All of their baggage is exactly the same. 

Alex winds one of Michael’s curls around his finger, and he feels the stutter in his breathing. 

With empirical evidence like that, he has to be brave. 

He mutes the television and says, “I don’t have to work tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Michael glances up. “Is this…new information? Should we be celebrating?”

“No, I mean—” Alex swallows. “I don’t have to go out tomorrow, so if you stay over afterwards, we can talk.”

Michael stares at him. “After what?”

Alex shrugs, but his eyes linger pointedly on Michael’s mouth. 

“Oh,” Michael says. He turns onto his stomach slowly, like he thinks moving too quickly will turn Alex skittish, and then he eases up onto his knees between Alex's legs. Carefully, he pushes the pillow on Alex’s lap out of the way and onto the floor. “Yeah. Yeah, I could stay over. Afterwards.”

Light from the silent television flickers against the side of his face, and Alex reaches for the loose collars of his shirt. Michael bends pliantly, anchoring his hands beside Alex’s shoulders on the arm of the couch, and lowers himself until their noses brush. Then, he hesitates. He nuzzles against Alex’s cheek, rolls their foreheads together, and sighs out a laugh. 

Alex giggles back, a nervous sound he has no control over, and asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing. I just— I don’t wanna screw up. This has been a no-fly zone for weeks.”

“It really hasn’t.”

“It really has. I have the bruised ego to prove it.”

A missing piece slots into place in Alex’s chest, loosening every ounce of tension left in his body, and he sags down against the couch cushions. He takes a moment to look up at Michael, at the vulnerable pinch of anxiety that crinkles the corners of his eyes, and then he reaches up to smooth his thumb over the crest of Michael’s cheeks. The wrinkles worsen, so he tows Michael in by his hips and shakes his head. “No. No, you’re— you’re cleared to land.”

“That’s not— ” Michael blinks, and then says, affectionately, “Oh, fuck you.”

He laughs, deep in his chest, and finally presses his mouth to Alex’s. Alex surges into the kiss, letting it linger until the smile splitting across his lips forces Michael to pull back. He tries again, but Alex can’t relax his grin, so, for a moment, they just breathe, silhouetted in the dark. 

Then, Michael says, “No regretting it tomorrow?” 

Alex shakes his head. “No.”

“No nightmare scenario? No backslide with my ex?”

“No.”

“No… I scratched my itch, now get out of my house?”

“No!”

“Okay, good. Good. Because I’m playing for keeps this time.” He settles his weight between Alex’s thighs, and Alex is struck suddenly with the realization of how easy it is to be happy, how earned it feels after all this time.

They kiss, lazy and unhurried, until the cable box starts to idle in the background and leaves them in a nearly pitch black room. The last three buttons of Michael’s shirt come undone under Alex’s fingertips, and Michael’s unshaved jaw scrapes his mouth almost raw.

“Next year,” he mumbles against Alex’s cheek in a moment of reprieve, “I’m gonna fill this house with roses.”

Distractedly, Alex hooks his heel around the back of Michael’s calf and says, “If you somehow have a quarter of a million dollars to waste on that many flowers next year, we will not still be living in this house.”

Michael’s whole body jolts.

“We?” he teases gleefully, and he digs his fingertips into the soft back of Alex’s knee. “Did you just forget we don’t have a joint bank account? Oh, fuck, you really do like me.”

A hot flush rises in Alex’s cheeks as he squirms. “I like your fake money.”

“I think you mean our fake money.”

Alex laughs. “I fucking hate you.” He turns away, and Michael bends down to kiss the exposed line of his neck. 

“You don’t,” he says between nips. “You really don’t.”

“No,” Alex agrees. “I really don’t.”

[wave0fg00dvibes]

Sparks - Spencer Reid x Reader

Request: Could you do a spencer Reid x SSA fem!reader where you guys are on a case and he sees the cops flirting with you and gets jealous and reveals his feelings?

A/N: WOW I’m really sorry this was out so much later than I predicted. Life is hard sometimes, y’all! My stressors are gone now so hopefully I’ll be cranking out a whole lot more of these. 

Also, I never understood how writers could just start a story they thought would be short and end up with 6K words. Now I know! Whoops.

Please leave feedback if you have any! Lots and lots and LOTS of love, as always. 

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

Your favorite part of any given case was closing it.

There was no rush or relief quite like the feeling of taking someone dangerous off the streets. No sensation could match handcuffing an unsub and watching officers escort them to police cars, never to wreak havoc again. Those days were undoubtedly the best part of being a profiler at the BAU. Those beautiful days took away the pain and anguish you so often faced as an agent, even if only momentarily.

Today was one of those days.

The resolution of this case provided the small town a chance to take a deep breath of relief. The killer was locked away, there were minimal casualties, and several hostages had been rescued and reunited with their families. All in all, it was a success.

Normally the team would fly back to Virginia right away, but a large, dangerous, looming electrical storm prevented a safe flight. Hotch made the executive decision to stay another night at the motel, and no one complained. After all, this case had been exhausting and draining for all of you.

It wasn’t until Morgan suggested a trip to the bar next door that the night got interesting.

Classic.

So, there you and Emily were, taking a trek across the street in the pouring rain, clutching your shared umbrella as if your lives depended on it.

“You know; I think I might be getting too old for this.” Emily nearly yelled over the roar of the weather. You laughed.

“Never! Who would be my off-duty partner in crime if not you?”

She shook her head and smiled at you. Strands of lightning lit up the sky and reflected in the many puddles at your feet. As beautiful as it was, you were not particularly comfortable holding a large piece of metal in a barren landscape during an electrical storm. As soon as the next inevitable clap of thunder shook the earth, both of you silently agreed to walk even faster to get to the bar and out of the rain.

“All I’m saying is you’d better start looking for my replacement.” Emily fired back, clutching the umbrella even harder as the wind blew the raindrops straight into your faces.

“As if I could ever replace the best wing woman I’ve ever had.” You shouted back to her. At that, Emily laughed out loud.

“Wing woman? Yeah, right.”

You didn’t have time to question her cheeky comment before the two of you finally reached the door to the bar. Emily immediately sighed in relief and you chuckled, stepping inside to relish in the warmth and shelter from the aggressive storm. Both of you stood in the doorway and took off your rain jackets, thankful to be dry and safe again.

“So, you’re telling me that if I found you someone at this bar…” Emily started to tease you, elbowing your ribs in jest. However, her eyes held an underlying mystery that frightened you. It was as if she was looking directly into your heart, reading your every move, discovering your deepest secrets.

Emily was one of your closest friends, but there was one secret in your heart that you could barely admit to yourself, much less another person. That was not something you wanted to dive into at the moment. It had been such a good day. There was no need to tarnish it with rambling thoughts and uncomfortable feelings.

Did that secret involve romantic feelings for a team member? Maybe.

She couldn’t know. There was no possible way she could know.

“I mean… I don’t know.” You bashfully tripped over your words, knowing she was kidding, but not doubting her willingness to embarrass you.

“Really? A gorgeous, smart, single woman like you, not wanting to find any company?” You blushed at the compliments, but shook your head in denial.

“Nice try, but I am perfectly happy being all alone.” You playfully nudged her shoulder. She let out a big laugh, hooking your arm in hers and starting to head toward the rest of the team at the back of the bar.

“Oh, come on. Don’t feed me that. We all know about you and Reid.” She subtly whispered in your ear.

And there it was.

She knew. Of course she knew. You felt your face begin to drain its color.

“We…” you attempted to launch into your heavily used “just friends” speech, but Emily put a finger up to your lips.

“Don’t even try that excuse with me. Just, don’t. Your self-appointed wing woman knows better.” She smirked and gave you a wink before releasing your arm and taking a seat between Morgan and JJ.

Rolling your eyes at her, you sat down in the only remaining seat, conveniently next to none other than Dr. Spencer Reid. You glared at Emily and she wiggled her eyebrows at you, fully aware of what she had done.

Oh boy. This was going to be a long night.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be around him. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Plopping down next to Spencer was the most comforting thing you had done all day. Though he was deep in conversation with Morgan, he grabbed one of the drinks in front of him and handed it to you without looking. You smiled, taking the glass as you watched his face contort while arguing with his friend. This was undoubtedly a conversation you did not want to interrupt.

You took a sip from the glass, and your heart skipped a beat. He had ordered you your favorite drink without even asking if you were in the mood.

Then again, he’s a professional profiler and one of your closest friends. Of course he knew you needed it.

That’s the whole problem, though. Why fix something that isn’t broken? Why go out on a limb for something that could destroy an already perfect relationship, both personally and professionally? The costs outweighed the benefits in every single sense. It just wasn’t worth it.

But all the rationality in the world couldn’t stop your heart from longing for the fairy tale.

“Hey!” Spencer’s soft, warm voice cut through all of the noise and broke you right out of your thoughts. He had turned to face you, cheeks slightly tinted red, probably from the heat of the bar and the alcohol. His ever-shining smile lit up his face. You couldn’t help but return it.

As always, you were amazed at how one shared moment with him could make every insecurity and anxious thought feel so small.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked, the furrow in his brow reflecting his genuine concern.

“Oh, yeah! Just a couple of bumps and bruises. Nothing too serious.” You assured him.

Earlier that day you had been shot by the unsub. Thankfully, all of the bullets hit your vest and not your unprotected body. It wasn’t the first time you had been in a shooting match with a perpetrator, but for some reason this one had really rattled you.

He nodded, taking another sip of his drink before proceeding.

“I looked at your vest. If that last bullet had been just 2 centimeters to the left, it could’ve dissected your subclavian artery, and that could’ve been deadly. Arterial rupture can cause life-threatening hemorrhages, pseudoaneurysm formation, and compression of brachial plexus.” His eyes lit up with excitement as he continued to talk about your circulatory luck of the day, blissfully unaware of how intensely it had scared you.

That was one of your very favorite things about him. He took any moment, any situation, any scare, and turned it into a statistic. He put all your irrational fears into rational numbers and ideologies. No matter what happened to you, or anyone on your team, he was right there to make sure you all knew you weren’t alone, even if that meant spouting off facts about arterial dissection in a bar at midnight.

This man was something else.

“Hey, pretty boy!” This time the voice breaking you out of your thoughts was Morgan’s. Spencer’s many statistics halted abruptly as he turned to face the summoning voice.

“What ever happened to that lovely lady you were going to ask out for coffee last week?”

His body immediately tensed next to you. Your stupid, irrational, unforgiving heart dropped into your stomach.

“Um, I mean… I didn’t end up asking her.” His answer was surprisingly short. You had never seen Spencer so flustered and lost for words. You looked up at Emily and saw the delicate look of annoyance in her eyes.

“It’s really hard to date in this line of work…” Emily attempted to defend his decision, JJ nodding and offering noises of agreeance while taking sips of her drink, but Morgan cut them off to press him further.

“Oh come on Reid, you haven’t shut up about her for months!”

“Yes, thank you Emily.” Spencer replied, letting some of the tension go. “I’m not sure I want to take any of my focus away from this job right now.”

“Oh whatever…” Morgan started, but before he could go any further you saw Emily subtly kick him under the table.

She looked up at you, eyes faintly conveying her apologies and intent to knock some sense into the oblivious man. He gave her a confused look, but immediately dropped the subject after meeting her fiery gaze.

“Anyway… are you seeing anyone?” This time Morgan’s question was directed at you.

Nope. Not happening. Where was the alcohol?

“On that note, I’m going to go get a drink. Anyone want anything?” You asked, grabbing your glass and standing up quickly.

Before they could answer, you were on your way to the bar. The first drink was strong, but not strong enough to numb the stupid, unreasonable pain and excruciating awkwardness of what had just happened.

“I’ll have another of these, please.” You asked the bartender, sitting at one of the chairs to help calm your shaking knees.

Breathe.

There was literally no reason for you to be upset. He was allowed to see people. Both of you were single, for crying out loud! There was nothing you were willing to do to make the fairy tale in your head a reality, so why was this weighing on you so heavily?

Breathe. For the love of everything, breathe.

He deserved every happiness in the world, and more. There was no reason for you to be so self-centered and deny him that. Who’s to say he even thought of you as anything more than a colleague anyway?

“Agent?” You slightly jumped and turned to face the familiar voice, recognizing the man sitting next to you instantly.

“Sergeant Jones. Hi.” You presented the best smile you could muster in the moment at the sight of one of the local deputies.

“Please, call me Michael. It’s so nice to see you outside of the unfortunate situations our jobs bring.” His smile was warm, and the hand he reached out to shake was soft.

“It’s nice to see you too, Michael.” You smiled, angling yourself to face him more directly.

Breathe. Distractions are good, especially when they are this handsome. Breathe.

His short blonde hair was combed perfectly, and his blue flannel shirt subtly brought out his eyes. No wedding ring. You could feel your heart ever so slowly begin to rise at the prospect of feeling valued, wanted, especially by a handsome stranger. 

Did it take your mind off Spencer? No. 

Could anything at this point? Who knows.

“Are you okay?” He asked, the true concern evident in his pretty blue eyes.

No, Michael. You seem wonderful but this is the worst timing.

“Yeah! Yeah, it’s just been a long day.” You lied straight through your teeth like a pro. However, you were captivated by his seemingly genuine integrity.

“You can say that again.” He chuckled. “This town hasn’t seen action like this in the last century, at least.”

Spencer could probably pinpoint the exact date of the last time this tiny town had a historic day like this…

NOPE. Breathe.

“How often does your team handle cases like these?” Michael’s deep voice snapped you out of your racing thoughts.

Okay, this was good. You were good at talking about work. It was basically your whole life.

“Well, we mostly handle serial killer cases. Sometimes abductions, things of that nature.”

Michael was a good listener, and the way his body angled toward yours indicated he actually enjoyed listening to you talk about your gruesome job.

“Cases involving children are the hardest for me, but it’s different for everyone.” You added.

“Yeah, I understand. I know our jobs are of different caliber, but I struggle with those too.”

You were enamored with Michael’s honesty and emotional depth in your short conversation. Compassionate, good at listening, and handsome? The other shoe was sure to drop soon…

The bartender set your drink down in front of you, but before you could pay her Michael handed her some cash.

“Oh no…” You started to argue.

“Please, I insist. It’s been a hard day for all of us.” Michael softly smiled at you. You smiled back, immediately taking a big gulp of the strong drink. Bring on the numbness.

“So, do you have any kids?” His surprising question caused you to choke and begin coughing profusely. He immediately looked alarmed, placing a hand on your arm to steady you.

“I’m so sorry, I just meant because those cases affect you so much… I didn’t mean…”

“No! No, it's okay!” You choked out between coughs. Could this night get any more awkward? You took a deep breath and drink of water before continuing, noticing his strong, soft hand was still on your arm.

“No, I don’t have any kids yet. It’s hard to find time to date in this line of work.”

“Cheers to that.” He smiled, lifting his drink to tap yours.

Feeling the alcohol start to kick in, you closed your eyes and smiled. Finally.

“Hey, I never got a chance to thank you for what you did today.” You opened your eyes to meet his, slightly confused as to what he meant, but he continued. “You jumped in front of one of my men and took those bullets.”

Ah, transference. He’s only interested because he thinks you’re a hero.

“Oh, that’s just part of the job.” You brushed it off.

“No. That was true bravery and sacrifice.” Michael turned completely toward you. “I don’t know many people who would’ve done that. Truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

...or maybe he’s just incredibly kind?

“Of course.” You laid your free hand on top of his. Thankful for the recognition, but far more thankful that no one had been harmed that day.

“Man if you didn’t have to leave, I would absolutely be asking you on a date right now.” Michael’s undying honesty once again caught you by surprise.

“You’re just saying that because I took a successful risk today.”

“No, I’m saying it because in the last five minutes I’ve realized that you’re smart, along with brave and clearly beautiful.”

All you could do was smile and squeeze Michael’s hand, for though the flattery was lovely, both of you knew full well that was all it could be.

Out of nowhere, you felt the air tense. Michael looked past you in confusion, and all at once you knew who was there. You could feel Spencer’s presence before he spoke a single word. Somehow you could tell he had been there for a short while, and could feel the inevitable speech coming.

“Actually that’s called transference, which happens when material from our unconscious mind is propelled into our conscious mind as we try to deal with the usually painful psychological trauma that we are experiencing. The brain unconsciously re-surfaces and re-enacts conflict-ridden experiences as if the past were the present and one setting were another. We transfer thoughts, feelings, and attitudes, especially about people who resemble others. We assign them roles once played by others. We take on old roles ourselves. All unconsciously.”

Both you and Michael were stunned into silence, staring at Spencer as if he were from another planet.

What the hell was he doing?

You sighed, giving up any hope for a single shred of happiness to come from this night.

“Michael, you remember Dr. Reid.”

“Of course, good to see you again.” Michael nodded toward Spencer, which he awkwardly returned.

“Sorry to interrupt. I came over to see if you were alright after that coughing spell and couldn’t help but overhear…”

“It’s fine, Spencer.” You coolly cut him off, begging him with your eyes to go back to the table and let you make a connection, for once.

He saw the look, understood, and promptly ignored it.

“We should probably get back to the motel. The others left when I got up to check on you.”

“I’m a big girl, Spencer. I’ll be okay.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him.

“I can walk her back.” Michael looked up at Spencer, attempting to analyze him, to no avail.

“That won’t be necessary.” Spencer looked him dead in the eye, challenging him. A sudden look of realization dawned on Michael’s face. He immediately stood up, grabbing his jacket.

“Wow, I’m really sorry for the misunderstanding. I assumed you were single.”

God fucking dammit, Spencer.

“Oh I am! I am. It’s not like that. Spencer is just a good friend.”

Spencer stood there, unmoving, arms crossed, stoic as he could be. Michael gave up the silent fight, putting on his jacket and turning to leave.

“Listen, it was really nice to see you again, agent. Thank you again, truly, for all you did for my team today. Best wishes.” He shook your hand, far more awkward this time, and nodded to Spencer before bolting toward the door.

The prior sadness couldn’t hold a flame to the anger bubbling inside you at that moment. You whipped around to face the ever stoic Spencer, who didn’t seem to care about the fact that you were pissed as all hell about what he had just done. Before he could say another word, you took your coat from his outstretched arm and stormed toward the door, not caring if he followed or not.

Thankfully, the rain had stopped, but the beautiful lightning illuminated the sky as you furiously stomped back across the street to the motel. Normally you would attempt to walk softly in your heeled boots so as to not draw attention, but you couldn’t care less in this moment. You wanted Spencer to know just how royally pissed off you were, and you could tell he was right behind you.

Who did he think he was? Swooping in at the last second to sever the one human connection you’d made all night? Breaking the newfound bond you started with someone to distract from what he had caused?

The anger coursing through your veins seemed to dissolve the alcohol all on its own. You were no longer drunk, you were furious.

Breathe. Assault of a federal agent will put your ass in jail. Breathe.

It wasn’t until the two of you were alone in the elevator that you’d finally calmed down enough to form a sentence.

“What the fuck, Spencer?”

He didn’t answer. You took a deep breath, trying to expel the burning desire to scream. It didn’t work.

Of course, the one time you truly needed his explanation, he refused to offer it.

When the elevator reached your floor, he silently followed you to your room. You fished in your pocket for the key, but before you could swipe it Spencer grabbed your wrist, turning you toward him.

“I’m sorry.” He flatly stated.

Sure. Nice try.

“For what?” You challenged, not breaking his eye contact.

“For not getting you out of that situation sooner.”

You laughed right in his face. Pitiful, loud, uncontrollable laughter.

“Are you kidding me? Seriously? Oh my God.” You laughed so hard you thought you were going to throw up, clutching your stomach and leaning forward. His arms attempted to steady you but you eagerly batted them away.

“What is so funny about that?” You could tell he was getting frustrated.

Were you really about to start this?

You were really about to start this.

“Guess what? Men are allowed to flirt with me, Spencer. Believe it or not some people actually find me desirable.” He was surprised, but not as much as you thought he might be.

He didn’t deny that this was what had struck the nerve and prompted him to get you out of the bar.

“Those cops are bad news.” He broke eye contact, further proving your point.

“Michael was kind to me.”

“He was putting up a front.”

“Why is it so difficult for you to believe someone could actually be attracted to me?”

“He doesn’t even know you!”

“And if he did he wouldn’t want me?”

Spencer opened his mouth to fight back, but immediately closed it, eyes darting between the patterns on the carpet. Your heart cracked.

“I didn’t realize you thought so little of me, Spencer.”

“That’s not what I…” He cut himself off with a deep sigh, putting his hands behind his head and looking up to the ceiling.

“Then what the hell is it, because I don’t have time for this.” You spat, trying to use your keycard once more. Spencer grabbed your wrist again, holding tightly even as you tried to squirm away.

“What is your problem?” You nearly yelled in his face. “I don’t understand why it is SUCH a stretch in your mind that a man could want to spend time with me. Why can’t you fucking accept that?”

This time, as you tried to push him off of you, he grabbed your other arm and pinned both behind your back, pulling you close to him so you couldn’t escape.

“Because no matter who it is, I can guarantee they don’t want you as badly as I do.”

Your entire, sober brain shut down. All at once, the world was spinning, and not from alcohol.

You pushed him away, and this time he let you go, standing at a respectful distance, allowing you to soak in his confession. The wheels in your head weren’t turning fast enough for this.

“But… that girl Morgan was talking about…”

“Yeah. That’s you.”

Wait… what?

You let your hands fall to your knees as you leaned forward. It was too late in the night for this, too wrong a moment for such a bold confession.

So… he wanted to ask you out… but didn’t? When did that happen? When have you ever given him an indication you weren’t interested? But had you ever given him an indication you were interested?

The madness in your swirling thoughts was interrupted by Spencer taking a step toward you. Oh no. Oh dear God no.

Your brain screamed at you to move, take a step, run away, anything. But your heart held its own. In your deepest desires, you had been waiting for this moment since the day you met him.

Now it was your turn to observe the patterns on the carpet. Each and every flower seemed far more interesting now that you were confused out of your mind and your heart was beating at twice its normal rate.

All of the sudden, the toes of his converse lined up with your own, and you felt his hand lift your chin to look him in the eyes. In the low light of the hallway, they almost looked golden.

He moved painfully slowly, as if you would bolt at any moment. Which, to be fair, if your rational brain had anything to say about this moment, you’d be halfway down the street by now.

But, it didn’t. His hands slowly made their way to your waist, delicately touching to make sure you were okay before settling firmly. Your own hands worked their way up his arms and around his neck, feeling every tense, trembling move he made the whole way.

It was as if the entire world was paused, as if everything was in slow motion except for you and him. For the first time since you joined the bureau, you allowed your guard to drop for a moment.

And in that brief moment, his lips met yours.

Alarm bells sounded in your mind as soon as it happened, and you pulled your head away, ending the kiss almost as quickly as it began. You frantically looked into his eyes, still clutching onto him, allowing yourself to let it sink in.

Spencer Reid had just kissed you. Okay, sure.

The part that really scared you was how much you enjoyed it.

Breathe, dear God, fucking breathe.

He held your gaze with a surprising intensity, letting his eyes tell you all the truths he was afraid to say out loud.

You were afraid too. Terrified.

Yet, somehow, standing in that musty motel hallway holding onto your best friend for dear life after just locking lips for the first time felt like the most natural, perfect thing in the world.

Were you really about to continue this?

You bet your ass you were about to continue this.

You grabbed his face and pulled his head back down to yours to kiss him again. Your lips met just as softly, but this time settled into an intimate rhythm. One of your hands made its way into his hair, lightly pulling, causing him to let out a deep moan.

Oh, no. No, no, no. You really liked that.

His hands splayed out over your back, attempting to bring you even closer as your bodies moved together.

So this was what you had been running from all this time, the scariest possible scenario you’d tried so hard to bury.

That fear seemed minuscule compared to the overwhelming feeling of goodness that came from being this close to him, feeling his soft hair in your hands and his beating heart against your chest.

The edge of the abyss grew closer with every soft movement and crash of your lips. The point of no return loomed, begging you to hold him closer, bring him into your room, and cross all of the lines your paranoid mind had set long ago. After all, rules were made to be broken and lines were meant to be crossed, right? By the way he hungrily pressed your body against the door to your room, you knew he was thinking the exact same thing.

But, in true agent fashion, your rational brain caught up to you before you could make the dream a reality.

You pulled away harshly, and he immediately removed his hands and stepped back. Your heart was beating so fast you thought it might burst right out of your chest.

He looked so beautiful like this, hair all disheveled, lips big, full, and thoroughly kissed. His eyes held the horror you had grown to know so well, the fear of ruining one of the very best things in your lives. You were positive your own eyes reflected the very same idea.

“Spencer…”

“I know.” He cut you off, closing his eyes.

“We can’t ruin this. We can’t go down that road.”

“I know.”

The charged silence that followed was most unwelcome. 

“Why would you say that. Why would you act on that?” Your accusation against his confession was less of an attack and more of a whimper, trying so hard to bury the longing feelings again.

He shrugged, analyzing the carpet once more. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

“Spencer.” You let his name roll off your tongue softly, gently, longing to somehow take it all back, to push what you had done into some secret place, never to be seen or spoken of again.

He looked up at you, the same emotions swirling through his eyes. He understood.

“I didn’t want to live any longer not knowing, I guess.” He softly admitted.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. There was no way to take it back, no way to fix this, no rational comfort you could offer.

There was nothing more either of you could say.

So, with that, he turned on his heel and walked back to his own room, never looking back.

You stood there in the hallway for a long while, completely stunned. It wasn’t until the subtle bell of the elevator broke your trance that you finally swiped your keycard and retreated to the solace of your room.

Somehow, in the midst of the war going on in your head, you managed to pack all of your things. You wouldn’t remember going through with your night routine or climbing into the soft motel bed, but somehow your unconscious mind led you there.

The tears of frustration didn’t start until about 20 minutes into blankly staring at the ceiling. They rolled down your cheeks and pooled in your hair, but you barely noticed. Every so often, you lifted your hand to your lips, unbelievingly, wishing for some reminder of what it felt like to be connected with him. 

How had your pride been so dominating that it thrust you into the very situation you worked tirelessly to avoid? What prompted him to act so impulsively? Why did you just stand there and let him leave?

Most importantly, how in the world were you going to resolve this?

To say it was going to be a sleepless night would be the understatement of the century.

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

As you got on the plane the next morning, Emily was the first one to meet your exhausted gaze. She got up from her seat and walked over to you, enveloping you in her arms.

“I heard the yelling from my room. I’m sorry.” She whispered. You sighed, hugging her back as hard as you could.

So, they all knew. Of fucking course they all knew. Even Hotch and Rossi shot you a look of understanding sympathy as you moved to take the seat next to Emily. JJ patted your knee knowingly, and you gave her hand a squeeze before laying your head on Emily’s shoulder. Maybe now, surrounded by your girls, you would finally be able to get some sleep.

Thankfully, your hope became a reality. The next time you opened your eyes, everyone around you had drifted off as well. You gingerly lifted your head, making sure not to disturb Emily’s fragile sleep. 

The plane was peacefully silent, and as you scanned the cabin, your heart ached with gratitude for your team, your family. Getting shot was less than ideal, but the love and appreciation it prompted was most welcome. 

You felt Spencer’s eyes on you before you even noticed he was awake.

Turning your head toward the couch he was sprawled out on, your eyes locked with his. He made no move to look away, and neither did you. 

Fixing this was a necessity, and you both knew it. There was no space for awkwardness or personal feelings getting in the way of this line of work. 

As always, even despite the awkwardness and confusion of the past 24 hours, plopping down next to Spencer was still the most comforting feeling. Looking into his equally-tired eyes provided some comfort. At least you knew you weren’t the only one that lost sleep over the incident. 

His eyes were always a home to you, no matter what state your friendship was in. This was uncharted territory for both of you. Simply sitting next to each other, enjoying the presence and absorbing the moment, seemed to kickstart the healing that was sure to follow. 

Before you knew it, your arms were reaching out for him, and his enveloped you. Your head immediately fell to his shoulder, letting out a deep breath you didn’t remember taking. 

“I’m sorry.” You offered, chuckling at the whole situation. He joined in your slight laughter, squeezing you a little bit tighter as you felt the glorious sound reverberating in his chest.

“I’m sorry too.” He whispered. 

You pulled away to look at him, offering a small smile that he quickly returned. It already felt as if 1,000 pounds had been lifted from the air around you.

“It’s just, I would never forgive myself if I ruined this friendship, you know?” You admitted, ashamedly.

“I do. I promise, I do.” He insisted. You knew it was the truth.

The plane jolted from sudden turbulence, and you quickly scanned the cabin to make sure no one had woken up. When you were certain the whole team was still in a deep sleep, you turned back to Spencer, finally voicing the question that had been hovering for hours.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” 

“Probably for the same reason you didn’t tell me.” He replied, smirking at you.

Fair enough. You relaxed at the reemergence of his straightforward attitude, refreshed to know that his brutal honesty was unceasing. 

The silence that followed held far more meaning than more words could. 

There was no easy fix here, even though both of your feelings were now out in the open. Romantic attachment was a recipe for disaster for anyone at the BAU, much less two of its own agents. You both knew that all too well.

So… what now? Logically, you were at a dead end. 

Then, in true Spencer Reid fashion, he genuinely surprised you.

“Would you like to get coffee with me sometime?” He unceremoniously blurted. You looked up at him in surprise. Suddenly, it felt as if every logical answer to that question had left your brain.

“I…” 

“Don’t think too hard, just reply.” He quickly added, desperate for an answer, longing for a means to an end of whatever this night had started.

“Spencer Reid… are you asking me on a date?” 

“Yes, I am.” His golden brown eyes met yours. No hesitation, no jokes.

It’s amazing how the moments you spend so long running from can sneak up on you in a single instant. You knew that every fear you had about taking this path with him was rational. Attachment was a death sentence for one or both of you, in its own way. 

Was your heart really worth that risk? Running away from your feelings for so long was exhausting. How much longer would you really want to push it all away?

Well… you were both inevitably going to die anyway. Might as well do it with some love in your heart. 

“I’m not asking for forever, I swear. Just for a couple hours of your time. I just think…” He started, but you held up a hand, hoping he would ease up for long enough to let you answer.

Were you really about to take this leap?

“I would love to.”

Damn right you were.

His surprised smile was blinding, and you couldn’t help but match it. 

This time, you barely noticed the turbulence when the cabin fell silent. Both of you sunk back into your seats, relief flooding the air. The million thoughts constantly circling in your head all stopped for a single moment, allowing you to finally, blissfully, breathe.

“You know, for two profilers, we really should have caught this sooner.” Your tired eyes began to fall closed again, finally feeling the full weight of the night lift from your shoulders.

“Yes, but as two emotional repressors, I think we did a pretty great job.” Spencer’s sweet, beautiful voice brought you back, and you couldn’t help but let out a joyful laugh at his sassy retort.

Touché, Reid.

You silently scooted closer to him on the couch, laying your head on his shoulder and letting sleep overtake you once more. 

“I’m not asking for forever.”

His words, meant for comfort and persuasion in the moment, replayed in your mind as his arms encircled you.

“I’m not asking for forever.”

No, love. Not just yet.

[johnsamericano]

“Darling.” l.t.y

Pairing: mafia!Taeyong x journalist!reader

Genre: fluff (Taeyong’s a really soft boi), angst, (not kinky) smut

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence, minor character death, sex, I think that’s it.

Summary: Your boss asks you to write an insight on the mafia gang that’s been causing so many deaths recently. But you don’t expect the leader to be so...different.

Word count: idk but it’s ✨long✨

A/n: I hope you like it 😌

“Yes, boss?” You peeked through the door of your boss’s office.

“Sit down, please.” He removed his glasses, gently massaging his nose bridge afterwards. “How long have you been working with us, y/n?”

“Five months, sir.”

“Do you like working here?” It suddenly sounded like he was about to fire you.

“Yes, very much.” You squeezed your hands nervously. “Have I done something wrong, sir?”

“Not at all, your work is pretty good for a rookie.” His gaze on you was intense. “That’s why I have a special job for you.” Your eyes lit up. You weren’t getting fired and that was a relief.

“I’m sure you’re aware about the recent murders around this area.” You nodded. “After exhaustive research, we’ve found the culprit.” That was good news, yet he seemed so serious.

“Have you told the police?”

“Oh I’m sure they know.” He smirked sarcastically, his mustache making contact with his wide nose. “But they won’t do anything, we’re dealing with a mafia gang after all.”

“Wait, what?” You lived in a small town were everyone knew each other. It was shocking enough to find out that a killer was in town, but mafia? That wasn’t possible. “Are you sure about this?”

“Of course I am.” He said as cocky as ever. “I’ve worked in this industry for more than thirty years, I have my ways of getting information.”

“So what are you gonna do about it?”

“I’m not gonna do shit. You are.” You furrowed your eyebrows. “I want you to find a way into the gang, get me as much information as you can and return.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“You don’t have a say in this, y/n. Either you get information or you can pack your things, it won’t be hard to find a replacement for you.” He knew you wouldn’t risk losing your job, being a journalist meant everything to you.

“Is there a deadline?”

“We’ll discuss about that as soon as you find a way in. I’ll make sure all your personal information is well protected.” He smiled, satisfied with your answer. “You may leave now, miss y/n.” You bowed before exiting the office, kicking the plant pot by the door on your way out. One of your superiors approached you as you sat down at your small cubicle.

“What did he want?” He sat down on your desk as usual. The first few times you were afraid it’d break, but it turned out to be pretty resistant.

“He wants me to go on a suicidal mission.” You hid your face behind the palms of your hands. “And I had to say yes to keep my job.”

“The whole office turned him down, I guess he knew you wouldn’t.” He rubbed your back affectionately. “I’m sorry, I should’ve done it myself.”

“Don’t worry Jaemin, let’s just hope I don’t get myself killed.”

(...)

Three weeks. Three weeks you’d been visiting the same coffee shop in an attempt to meet the leader. But he never came, maybe your boss had the wrong information. Nevertheless, you didn’t give up. Sitting at the same spot from 9:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m., waiting for something to happen. There was usually no one there since the recent murders had happened nearby.

One day you stayed for a couple more hours, completely immersed in your work. That’s when you saw him. A man surrounded by at least ten men in suits. He was wearing sunglasses even though the sun had hidden a long time ago. His hair was silver, carefully slicked back, revealing his multiple ear piercings. You wrote exactly what he looked like as you peeked through the window, too afraid to take a picture of him. He soon dissapeared through an alley with his bodyguards following closely. You closed your laptop and packed it into your yellow backpack, calling a cab to take you back to your office. Your boss was still there, checking some of the notes your coworkers had written.

“I found him!” You bursted into his office, your journal wide open in front of his face.

“Did you get in?” He remained unfazed.

“No, but-”

“Then you shouldn’t be celebrating.” You internally screamed before going back home. You stayed up all night trying to come up with a plan to approach him without getting beaten up by his bodyguards. But nothing seemed like a good excuse to talk to the leader. You ended up going back to the coffee shop with no ideas and three hours of sleep.

After three cups of espresso, you were finally awake and ready to go back to working on one of your notes. The lady who ran the shop was always nice to you, bringing you some free cupcakes from time to time.

“I’m just grateful to have a client, that’s all.” You almost felt bad for her. The leader was nowhere to be seen, and you honestly wanted to go home as soon as possible. So you packed your stuff and waved goodbye the old lady as usual. You received a call from Jaemin on your way to the bus stop.

“Any good news?”

“Well, I saw him yesterday. But apart from that, nothing.” You bumped into someone. “Sorry.” You looked up, only to find yourself in front of the man you’d wanted to meet for the past few weeks.

He was smirking the slightest, looking down at you while his bodyguards slightly pushed you away from him, using their arms to keep you at a safe distance.

“It’s okay, boys.”

“I’ll call you later Jaemin.” You hung up, your hands shaking.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing at such a dangerous place?” He pushed his bodyguards to the side.

“I-I like the coffee shop back there.” You tried to sound as confident as possible.

“I see.” He smiled before removing his dark sunglasses, revealing a pair of cute doe eyes. Definitely not what you were expecting. “What’s your name, darling?”

‘Should I give him a fake name? No, he’d probably find out. But what if he does a background check on me and finds out I’m a journalist?’ You stared at him with wide eyes while you sorted out your options.

“I’m y/n.” You extended your hand, earning a collective gasp from the men surrounding you. “What’s your name?”

“There’s no need for you to know it.” He shook your hand with a wide smile. “Do you need a ride home?”

It’d be a terrific opportunity to get some information, but then again, he was a stranger. An extremely dangerous stranger. What if he kidnapped you and sold your organs in the black market? Your mom didn’t raise an idiot.

“I appreciate the offer, sir. But I rather take the bus. Good night.”

‘What an interesting little thing.’ Taeyong thought as you walked away.

He spent the next few days trying to gather information about you, but he couldn’t find anything, not even your age or last name. It was frustrating.

You, on the other side, decided not to tell anything to your boss until you had some solid information. That meant going back to the coffee shop.

The lady greeted you cheerfully as always. Your legs found their way to your usual spot by the window.

The day went by slowly, nothing new happened except for the fact that the lady gave you cookies instead of a cupcake this time.

The little bell on the door rang, announcing a new client. Out of pure curiosity, you lifted your gaze from the laptop. A gasp escaped your mouth as you saw the gang leader greet the lady and approach you with a wide smile.

He was wearing his usual sunglasses, but instead of his formal clothing, he was wearing a grey sweatshirt with jeans. He almost looked normal.

“Good evening, darling.”

“Hi.” Was the only answer that came out from your mouth. He never entered the shop, was it because of you?

“Can I take a seat?” You nodded.

He removed his glasses as soon as he was sitting comfortably on the wooden chair. It was amazing how fast he could go from looking like an intimidating man to a fluff ball. ‘Maybe he wears the glasses to look less cute. Yeah, I should probably write that down on my journal later.’ Conversations with yourself were now a habit since you didn’t have any coworker to talk with.

“So, y/n. How old are you?” The atmosphere seemed somehow more intimate now that he’d said your name.

“There’s no need for you to know it.” You replied, quoting his words from last night.

“Witty, I like it.” He laced his fingers, supporting his chin on them as he spoke. “No one has ever talked to me like that.”

He didn’t seem upset, which encouraged you to keep talking.

“I’ll make you an offer.” You closed your laptop, putting any distractions aside. “I’ll answer your questions as long as you answer mine. Deal?”

Taeyong was once again impressed with your boldness.

“Alright, deal.” He softly smiled, waiting for you to talk first.

“What’s your name?”

“Taeyong.” You nodded, repeating it inside your head so you wouldn’t forget it. “How old are you?”

“I’m 23. And you?”

“25. Where were you born?”

You answered to each other’s questions, careful not to give away to much information.

“What’s your job?”

“Let’s say I’m a businessman.” Well that was specific. “What about you?”

“Let’s say I’m a writer.” The screen of your phone lit up as you received a message from Jaemin.

‘How’s your mission going?’ You quickly grabbed the device, afraid that Taeyong would ask you about it. But he was busy looking at your face, appreciating every little detail. From the mole under your right eye to the tiniest pores in your skin.

You quickly typed ‘ttyl’ and turned off the phone, preventing any future messages from your coworker.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” Your breath hitched.

“We met yesterday.”

“But I like you.”

“Uhm, it’s getting late, I better get going.” You smiled awkwardly before exiting the small building.

(...)

“Are you stupid?” Your boss spat out with a seemingly calm voice. “This could’ve been our chance.”

“I’m sorry, sir. But my safety comes first.”

“If he wanted to harm you he would’ve done it from the moment he met you.” He had a point. “You better find him again or you can bid goodbye your precious job.”

After your little “meeting” with your boss, you threw up at the nearest bathroom, pushing aside everyone who got on your way.

It happened every time you were under stress, and frankly, you hated it. You just wanted to quit your job, but it’d be hard for a rookie journalist like you to get a nice job.

“Maybe you should take a self defense course or something.” Jaemin mentioned while trying to cheer you up, sitting outside of the convenience store near your office.

“Maybe I should buy a weapon. A taser for example.” You sipped on your strawberry milk, the sweet flavor filling your mouth. Your head found it’s way to Jaemin’s shoulder, using it as a pillow.

A loud ‘bing’ interrupted your peaceful moment. You prayed it wasn’t your boss again.

‘I didn’t know you had a boyfriend, darling.’ Your first instinct was to look around, searching for Taeyong. But he was nowhere to be found.

‘Where are you?’

‘I’m right in front of you, darling.’ Indeed, he was looking at you from the back seat of his armored car, smiling cockily while pushing his sunglasses further down his nose bridge. ‘Why don’t you come join me?’

“You look like you’ve just seen your grandmother’s ghost.” Jaemin muttered while looking at you.

“He’s here, Jaems. I need to go.” He nodded comprehensively before you got up from the rusty metal bench you were sitting on. You walked towards his van with both of your hands inside your pockets, regretting not having worn a pair of gloves in the morning.

“Hop in.”

“How did you get my number?” You asked, facing him from the other side of the door.

“Get in and I’ll answer all of your questions. Deal?” That cocky smile of his was starting to annoy the shit out of you.

“Fine.” You walked around the vehicle to reach for the opposite door, smoothly sliding into it. The scent of his cologne filled the wide space. “How did you get my number?”

“Take us to the coffee shop on the 5th Avenue.” You moved uncomfortably on the cold leather seat. “Do you want me to turn the heater on?”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“I have my ways of getting information, darling. But I must admit, it was hard for me to find anything about you.” He spoke as he pressed a button to turn your seat’s heater on. “Better?”

“Thank you.” You were worried he might have discovered about your job, but judging by the fact that he was smiling so sincerely to you, he probably hadn’t. “Why are we going to the coffee shop?”

“I just want to spend some time with you, that’s all.”

“But I didn’t agree to it.” The smile on his lips dropped, discouraged by the possibility of you not wanting to be with him.

“Sorry, we can stop the car if you’re uncomfortable.”

“I’ll go. But just so you know, I always carry pepper spray with me.” He laughed. It was such a unique and contagious laugh that you couldn’t help but to smile. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, it’s just that no one had ever talked to me like that.” You nodded while tucking your hands under your legs, attempting to defrost your fingers. “Give me your hands.” You reluctantly extended them. He removed his own gloves to put them on you.

“But your hands are gonna be cold.”

“Don’t worry, we’re almost there.”

You would’ve never expected for a gang leader to be so...kind. He helped you down the car, pulling one of your hands into his pocket.

“Is this okay?” How could you say no to such an adorable face? You nodded, feeling his long fingers tracing patterns over the wool glove. “Is it weird that I’ve fallen for you in such a short amount of time?” He’d never had such feelings before, it felt like the butterflies in his stomach would come flying out of his mouth at any moment.

“Yes, it is a bit odd.” You let him hold your hand, somehow comforted by his warmth. “But everything about you seems to be odd, so it’s okay I guess.”

“So I guess you wouldn’t mind if I asked you on a date again?” You suddenly recalled the conversation with your boss. You had to accept this time.

“I suppose we can have a date.”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel attracted to Taeyong. Maybe it was his laugh, or the way his doe eyes would sparkle every time he’d look at you. But your work came first, and you were close to getting useful information from him.

“So, where are you from?” He asked, his chin resting on his palm. You’d noticed it was a habit of his to adopt said position when questioning you.

“That’s a secret.” A secret you had to protect with your life if you didn’t want him to know your identity.

“Fair enough.”

(...)

It had been a month since you started “officially” dating Taeyong. He seemed like a normal guy, which often made you question if your boss hadn’t mistaken his identity. But it was on your month anniversary that you discovered your boss was damn right.

“Welcome to my house.” ‘Welcome to my house? More like welcome to my palace.’

“This looks like the palace of Versailles.” You whispered, mesmerized with the ethereal paintings on the ceilings. “Your house looks familiar.” You hummed.

“You like it?” He hugged your waist with one arm, taking your chin between his fingers and forcing you to look at him.

“I mean, sure. It’s amazing.” He chuckled, leaning in to kiss your lips before you abruptly escaped his embrace. Taeyong couldn’t help but to sigh, he wanted to taste your pretty lips so bad, but you’d always find an excuse to avoid him. You walked down the hallway, admiring the paintings hung up on his wall, until you saw a picture of him. An elegant, blonde woman standing at one of his sides, while at the opposite side, a well known man stood.

“Mr. Lee?” You asked to yourself. You’d once written a note on him and his empire, he was one of your boss’s acquaintances.

“Oh, you know my dad?” You felt like fainting due to the excitement, you finally had valuable information.

“The whole city knows your dad.”

“I guess so.” He shrugged before pulling your arm. “Let’s continue with my house tour.” The mansion had at least twenty bedrooms, all of them the size of you apartment to say the least. But the most impressive room, by far, was Taeyong’s room.

“It used to be my parents’ room, but since they moved out I’ve taken it for myself.” He laid down on the bed, tapping his extended arm for you to lay on. “Don’t be shy.” You reluctantly let your body sink into the softness of the matress, Taeyong’s arms cuddling you while he whispers ‘I love you’, hoping you’ll say it back. But you don’t.

“It’s okay, darling. I’m a patient man.” He’d always say.

“Boss, we’ve got an-” A tall man entered the room, cutting himself of as he saw your figures.

“What did I say about knocking the door, John?” His harsh voice tone caused your eyebrows to furrow.

“I’m sorry, boss. But this is urgent.” You tried to remember every single word they said, hoping you’d be able to write them in your journal later.

“Fine.” He scoffed, turning his head to you and pecking your nose. “I’ll be back soon, baby. Don’t leave the room, just call the butler through that phone if you need anything.” The man in front of you seemed extremely confused with the situation, not being used to see his boss in a soft mood. “Let’s go.”

As soon as the door was closed, Taeyong spoke.

“She’s my girlfriend, I don’t want any of you around her. Am I clear?”

“Yes, boss. But if you allow me, how can we assure she isn’t trying to get information?” Taeyong grabbed him by the collar, his true personality making an appearance.

“If you ever bath mouth my girlfriend again I’ll cut your tongue.” Johnny knew he was damn capable of doing it, so he decided to keep his thoughts to himself. “What’s the emergency you were talking about?” The grip on his shirt loosened, resuming their walk to the stairs.

“We found one of Nakamoto’s rats snooping around. He’s in the basement.” Taeyong nodded. “What should we do with him?”

“Maybe we should send his boss a little gift.” That little smirk was one of Johnny’s worst nightmares, it meant something extremely bloody was about to happen. They reached the ground floor, walked towards the kitchen where the fridge had been moved, revealing a hidden metallic door. You, on the other side, used your time to text Jaemin. ‘I’m in. Meet me tomorrow morning at our secret spot.’ To which he responded with a smiley face. By secret spot you meant the convenience store in front of your office.

You placed your head close to the wooden door, patiently waiting to hear footsteps or any sound at all. But even after ten minutes, there was nothing. So you carefully opened the door, pepper spray on your right hand while you peeked through a small opening. After making sure no one was close, you fully exited the bedroom, ready to explore your surroundings. That was until you heard a loud thud coming from the ground floor.

“Huh?” You feet moved by themselves, going down the stairs careful not to make any sound. You walked towards the sound, which became louder with every step you took. It wasn’t long till you found yourself in front of the big metallic door, the weird noises coming from inside giving you goosebumps. The door creaked under your palm as you pushed it open, the sounds of muffled screams now getting clearer. Your opposite hand gripped the small pepper spray, your thumb ready to press the button in case of emergency.

“What should we send to Mr. Nakamoto? Maybe one of your fingers? An ear? Oh, I know. Your head will be the perfect gift, don’t you think?”

“What do you think you’re doing?” A hand grabbed your shoulder, making you jolt and fall down the remaining steps.

“A-ah.” You winced, your eyes shut tightly due to the pain.

“Y/n.” He dropped the knife he was holding, immediately running up to your curled up body. “I’m gonna kill you if something happens to her, Johnny.”

“How is this my fault? You told her to stay in the bedroom!” Taeyong gave him a warning look before he lifted your body. Carrying it all the way upstairs before you could catch a glimpse of the situation downstairs.

“Why did you come out? Something bad could’ve happened.” He wasn’t angry, more like extremely concerned.

“What was going on there? Why do you have a secret door?”

“Let’s take care of your wounds first. I promise to tell you everything later.”

Taeyong kept his promise, applying antiseptic on your open wounds while he told you every detail about his job.

“My father used to run this business, his real estate company was just an easy way to cover it. He retired a few years ago, that’s when I took over. But it wasn’t until five months ago he gave me complete freedom to do whatever I pleased.” He placed a band aid over one of your small scratches, kissing the wound gently afterwards. “We deliver packages mainly on the alley near that coffee shop you like.” You faked surprise.

“So all those dead bodies...that was you?” You were uncapable of hiding the fear you felt. You knew the truth all along, but hearing it from his own mouth was a different story.

“Yes. Most of them were part of rival gangs, trying to get information from our business.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously. “Will you still like me after this?” You wanted to say it was because of your job that you wanted to stay with him. But part of you knew that wasn’t the only reason.

“Yes.” You reached for his hand. Taeyong was taken aback, you were never one to start physical contact. “But you can’t keep secrets from me anymore. You need to be honest with me.” Said the woman who’d been lying to him since you met.

“I will be. Just promise you’ll never leave me.” He pulled you into a hug, smelling the lavender scent from your shampoo. That scent that made him feel so calm.

“I promise.” For now, at least. You still didn’t have enough information to go back to you boss. You let yourself get caught in the moment, sliding your hands up his back and hugging him as well.

“I love you.” He said again, hoping this time you’d say it back.

“I know.”

Taeyong sighed before loosening his embrace.

“I need to go downstairs to check up on some stuff.” He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, admiring your beautiful doll-like face. “Please, stay in the room.”

“Are you gonna...kill him?”

“He saw your face. If we let him go you’ll be in danger, and I can’t let that happen, darling.” He pecked your forehead. “I’ll be back, soon.”

A man was about to lose his life because of you. The thought kept haunting you even after Taeyong went downstairs, making sure to send some of his men to guard the bedroom door. You cuddled into the bedsheets, trying to get rid of your concerns. But nothing worked, your mind creating all sorts of wicked scenarios of that man getting killed.

‘Why did the boss have to choose me?’

“Y/n.” A hand rubbed on your shoulder. “It’s getting late. Come on, I’ll take you home.” You shook your head, not wanting to be alone at the moment. “What’s wrong babe?”

“Can I stay for the night?” Taeyong frowned at first, but then proceeded to kiss your cheek while combing your hair with his fingers.

“You can stay as long as you want, darling.” He went straight to his wardrobe, retrieving a pair of sweats and a hoodie. “It gets a little chilly in here after midnight. I’ll be in the room across the hall in case you need anything.” You held onto his hand tightly, stopping him from taking anymore steps away from you.

“W-wait.” The whole purpose of staying at his house was because you didn’t want to be alone. “Aren’t you gonna stay with me?”

“Do you want me to?” First, a hug from you, and now this. Taeyong’s day was definitely getting better and better.

“Yes.”

You both changed into more comfortable clothes. His baby blue hoodie smelled just like him, like a weird mixture of lavender and lemon. You laid down facing him, his arms wrapped around your waist as he waited for the right moment to speak. Your eyes examines every single part of his face. The scar beside his right eye caught your attention.

“How did you get this?” You fingers gently touched the damaged skin. “A fight with one of your rivals?”

“Actually.” He smiled. “I used to have atopy as a kid.” You’d expected a more dramatic answer.

“Oh.” You nodded, coming closer to his face to take a better look at the scar. “I think it’s cute.” Unconsciously, you pecked it.

“I think you’re cute.” He hugged your waist tighter, pulling you closer to his body. “Can I kiss you?” You nodded, gaze fixated on the way his soft lips would move every time he speaked. He was slow at first, making sure the kiss was something you wanted as well. But the moment your lips started moving against his, all his self control dissapeared.

“I love you.” He repeated for what seemed the hundredth time in the day. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Maybe you were just to caught up in the moment, that’s what you so desperately wanted to believe.

Taeyong smiled against your lips, sliding his hand down to grab a handful of your ass.

“Can you show me how much?” He grinded against your core, stealing a gasp from you.

“Taeyong.” How heavenly his name sounded in your lips. “I want you.”

“I know baby.” He slid your his sweats down as well as your underwear, sneaking a hand between your bodies to caress your lower lips. “I’ve been waiting for so long to show you just how much I love you.” You moaned as two of his long fingers entered you, curling them to reach for your sweet spot.

“I feel l-like I’m the only one receiving something here.” You held onto his silver locks.

“Shhh.” He peppered kisses all over your face as his pace increased. “Let me make you feel good, okay?” Your high came faster and more intense than usual. Taeyong cooed at you, retrieving his fingers to pull down his own sweats

“I’m on the pill, you don’t have to wear a condom.” He nodded, pushing his member through your tight hole as carefully as he could. He helped you to lay on your back, thrusting slowly into you while lacing your fingers together. Taeyong was ashamed to confess he was about to come after a few seconds of being inside you, but your hole clenched around him so deliciously that he couldn’t help it.

“I’m close.” He whispered as his lips made their way to your neck, sucking a mark on the soft skin.

“Me too.” You hugged his bare hips with your legs, feeling another huge wave of pleasure wash over your whole body. “Tae.” He shot his seed deep inside of you. He was about to pull out, but your embrace forced him to stay inside of you, his weight crushing you as he completely laid down on your small body.

“Do you want to stay like this?”

“You said it get’s chilly after midnight, and you’re pretty warm.” He couldn’t help but to smile, skillfully turning your bodies around so you were laying on top of him.

“Good night, sweetheart. I love you.”

“Good night, Tae. I love you too.” His heart swelled with affection as he drifted to sleep with you between his arms.

(...)

“You look so dumb right now.” Jaemin said as he looked at your pink, strawberry sweater. You sat in front of the convenience store you’d usually meet in.

“Shut up, Taeyong bought it for me on our five month anniversary, it was yesterday.” You smiled fondly at the fabric protecting you from the cold weather. “He’s really sweet.”

“The boss has been asking for you.” You felt like vomiting. “I think it’s time for you to come back to the office, we both know you have more than enough information.”

“I can’t do that to Taeyong, Jaemin.” You shook your head, tapping your shoes against the ground. “I’m gonna give the boss my letter of resignation today.”

“But you love your job.” He shook his head before you could even speak. “If you say something cheesy like ‘I love him more’ I’ll punch you.”

“I’m sorry.” You grabbed his hand. “I hope we can still be friends.”

“Of course we can.” He hugged your shoulders. “Come on, I’ll walk you to the building.”

Your boss wasn’t at his office, some of your coworkers said he went out for lunch. It was easier for you to just leave the letter without having to deal with his scolding. You said one last goodbye to everyone before exiting the building. You didn’t expect to find Taeyong outside of the building, waiting for you with a small frown.

“What are you doing here?” He said with a small hint of anger in his voice. “Isn’t this the place where that local newspaper is printed?”

“T-tae, I was just-”

“Fucking liar.” He clenched his jaw. “Get in the car, now.” Tears streamed down your face as you entered the vehicle. “Crying won’t save you from anything, darling. You know what we do to traitors like you?” You shook your head, trying to get him to make eye contact with you. “You’ll find out.”

“Let me explain, please.” You sobbed. “I didn’t tell them anything, I just quit my job.”

“I don’t believe you.” He looked at you, your eyes getting red from crying and your small hands gripping the soft fabric of your sweater.

Despite knowing the truth about you, all he wanted to do was to hug you, to tell you everything was fine. But he couldn’t. The trip to his house was filled with your pleads, begging him to believe you. Taeyong felt like his heart was getting stabbed everytime he’d hear you sob.

“Shut your fucking mouth before I cut your tongue off.” Your breath hitched. You sat still, afraid to make any move. It wasn’t until you felt a tug on your sweater you realized you’d arrived to your destination.

“Miss, you need to come down.” You nodded, taking a deep breath before exiting the vehicle.

The driver guided you all the way to the hidden basement, which you’d only seen once. Taeyong wasn’t there, but Johnny was. He had a pair of black latex gloves and stood in front of a large wooden chair. It looked like the ones used to execute people.

“Take a sit, y/n.” His usual grin was gone as he talked. You had no other option but to do as he said, tensing up as he restrained your wrists and legs.

“Johnny?” He hummed. “Is Taeyong alright?” He laughed bitterly.

“You’re worried about him right now? I’m impressed.” The blade of his sharp knife traced the skin of your jawline. “You should worry about yourself.” He pressed the cold metal harder against you, making you whince. He removed the blade from your neck, letting the thick, red liquid roll down from your wound to stain your pretty sweater.

“Taeyong didn’t give me any instructions on what to do with you.” He took a few steps back, leaving the knife in a metal table. He picked up a metal rod instead. “But I’m guessing he doesn’t want you dead.” He played nervously with the object. “I’m sorry, y/n.” He said before beating your ribs with it. The scream that came out from your lips didn’t even sound like yours.

He kept hitting you with the rod at least ten more times before stopping. His features were filled with regret, but his job wasn’t done yet. His new target was your right hand, you begged for him to stop, but he didn’t.

Before the object could touch your hand, a loud gunshot interrupted him, followed by steps coming down to your location.

“We need your help John, it’s Nakamoto.” He dropped the rod. “They’re too many.”

“I’m coming.” He kneeled down in front of you. “I need you to stay quiet if you don’t want to get killed.” But you couldn’t help the small whines coming out of your mouth, even breathing hurt at this point. “I’m really sorry.”

You were left alone in the room, trying your best to keep quiet, but the pain in your ribs was piercing. All you wanted to do was to curl up and cry.

“There’s someone inside.” You heard a manly voice whisper, immediately followed by more gunshots and steps.

“Oh my god, you’re fine.” Taeyong found you, still tied up to the chair and quietly crying. He released you, pulling your arm to help you stand up, earning a loud whine from you. “What is it?”

“M-my ribs.” You hugged yourself slightly, attempting to ease the piercing pain.

“Let me see.” He removed your arms, lifting your sweater to reveal the purple skin. You weren’t able to see your injuries, but Taeyong assured you it was fine. “You’re alright, I need you to stand up for me, okay?”

“Taeyong, I’m sorry.” You kept muttering. “I’m so sorry.”

“If you’re really sorry then come with me.” You summoned all of your remaining strength to get your legs to work, walking as fast as you could.

You found yourself in front of a man on your way out. He didn’t look like one of Taeyong’s gang members. He pulled out a gun, pointing it directly at Taeyong, but you were faster than him, embracing him as you felt something impact on your back. Taeyong pulled out his own gun, quickly shooting the other male.

“Y/n.” He held you between his arms as he tried to stop the bleeding in your right shoulder, relieved the bullet hadn’t reached any of your vital organs. “I know it hurts, baby, but you need to keep walking for me, okay?”

“I can’t.” Your knees gave in and Taeyong had no other option but to carry you. He successfully walked across the battlefield and reached for his car, only to be pulled down by someone else. You rolled out of his arms, your ribs making contact with the hard concrete and making you scream in pain.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Taeyong and his sweet little girlfriend.” A man with weird accent said before grabbing your boyfriend by the collar. “I wanted to say that I personally disliked your gift. But I thought, maybe I could return the favor by sending your head to your father. I bet he’d really love that.”

“Run, y/n.”

“Awww, how sweet of you.” The man grabbed a handful of his hair, forcing his head back. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her after I finish with you. The boys have been really stressed this past few weeks. I bet she’d be a really nice fuck doll.”

“Don’t you dare, Yuta.” He tried to pull out his gun, but his rival easily snatched it away from him, carelessly throwing it near you. He pulled out a knife from his pocket, placing it directly over Taeyong’s neck. You dragged yourself to reach for the weapon, still completely unnoticed by Yuta.

“You should say goodbye to your-” A bullet pierced through his chest, blood splattering all over Taeyong’s face. The man’s limp body fell backwards, revealing Johnny holding a gun right behind him. Taeyong turned to you, an arm extended while your fingers grazed at the weapon. Blood was still leaking from your wound.

“Darling.” He quickly got up, taking you between his arms once again. “I need to take her to the hospital.”

“Don’t worry, we got the situation under control.” Taeyong nodded before laying you down over the backseats of his car.

He drove as fast as he could, exceeding the speed limits and earning a few honks from nearby cars. But it was all worth it when he saw the nurses taking you into the operation room to heal your wounds.

(...)

“She’s waking up.” Someone whispered while your eyes fluttered open, the bright sunlight forcing you to close them again.

“Darling?” Taeyong held onto your hand tightly. “Are you okay?”

You hummed, attempting to open your eyes again, this time catching a glimpse of a red eyed Taeyong right beside your bed.

“Tae?” He let out a relieved sigh, cupping your cheeks and pulling you into a kiss right afterwards.

“You’re alright now baby, you’re safe with me.”

[hklnvgl]

but for their voices

(for the first week of the Mister Impossible Countdown by @pynchpromptweek : Adam’s College Experience! tw: past child abuse)

1/4 | ao3

“So are you deaf or something?”

Everything was supposed to change once Adam got to college. He’d spent hours and hours planning how it all would be, while waiting for the sleep that wouldn’t come because his ribs or his jaw or his lower back or his left ear were hurting.

The first step was making friends. Adam knew the best way to start was with his roommate, and he’d also joined a few study groups so that he had more options to fall back to if some didn’t work out.

Then, of course, once he got a bit more settled in his new routine, he wanted to go out there and date people.

That would take some time, presumably, but that was okay because once he started he’d surely stop feeling so inadequate and out of place. He’d learn how true Harvard people spoke and walked and dressed and he’d become one of them in no time. He’d stop being so weird. He’d stop losing time.

That was the plan. Adam was normally so good at planning. He’d taken all the necessary little steps—he’d found himself a job at the library to have some extra money for things like new shoes and haircuts and bowling trips. He’d tried extra hard to appear friendly and approachable on the first days of class, so that when they got group projects assigned he wouldn’t be the odd one out incapable of finding himself  a group. He hadn’t told anyone he couldn’t hear out of his left ear, because that could lead to more questions that would definitely collide with him not being weird anymore.

But nothing had actually changed after Adam had moved out, had it? He could get himself to a different state but he would always carry some things with him.

It had taken Ronan ninety minutes to notice.

Adam tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t bring him back to the dirt and pain he’d worked so hard to leave behind.

His soda glass was starting to sweat onto the wooden table.

“Only on my left ear,” he said, tasting bile on the tip of his tongue. “Had an infection when I was a kid, it’s no big deal,” he rushed, before Ronan had time to ask about it.

It wasn’t the first lie he’d told since arriving at Harvard. Those were not part of the original plan, but it turns out people start getting curious once you let them get to know you.

And Adam wanted so very much for people to know him. Just not what had happened to him—only Adam. Adam Parrish, Harvard student, with a brilliant future ahead of him.

“How’d you know?” Adam asked, even though what he most wished at that moment was for Ronan to drop the subject, for them to go back to talking about the plants Ronan was growing in his greenhouse back home or that one subject Adam coincidentally shared with Dick Gansey who coincidentally was Ronan’s best friend. But he had to know. He needed to know, in case there was something he could change about himself that would prevent other people from also noticing in the future.

“Uh? Oh, well, my little brother has this friend who’s hard of hearing and you just reminded me of her a bit.” Ronan grinned. “It was either that or you kept looking at my lips for some other reason.”

Adam, who had indeed been staring at Ronan’s soft-looking lips, shot his eyes up.

“What some other reason—” Adam began, promptly shutting his mouth when Ronan’s smiling eyes made him realize what he was hinting at.

Gansey saved him from embarrassing himself any further.

“Ronan, I’m so glad you’ve already met Adam. He’s brilliant, you know?” Adam didn’t know how Gansey could have possibly reached that conclusion from the two-hour class they shared and the three times they’d met at study group.

“Yes, Dick, you’ve fucking told me,” Ronan sighed. “He’s obsessed with you, man,” he said to Adam. “You should look into getting a restraining order or some shit.”

Adam, who already had one restraining order in place, looked down at his glass. He suddenly felt like, if he allowed Ronan to study him for a minute longer, Ronan would be able to put the pieces together for that too. He didn’t think he’d be able to deal with that.

He also didn’t know how to deal with knowing that Gansey spoke about him to his friends.

Perhaps his whole problem was that he didn’t know what a friend really was.

Gansey and Ronan kept talking, but Adam didn’t feel like putting in the effort to keep up.

“I should go,” he said, standing up. “Early morning tomorrow,” he lied to Ronan’s raised eyebrows.

“Oh, right. Well, always a pleasure,” Gansey said, extending a hand that Adam only realized a beat too late that he was meant to be shaking.

“You’ll tell the others I’m off, right?” Adam asked, because the sole idea of browsing the pub in search of the rest of the group to be subjected to a questioning on why he was leaving so early made his legs feel weak and his heart beat too fast.

He didn’t stay to catch Gansey’s response.

He didn’t say goodbye to Ronan.

The cold air that greeted him outside didn’t help him regain his balance—he felt a bit dizzy and overwhelmed, but his dorm wasn’t too far and it wasn’t bad enough to justify spending money on a taxi.

Adam’s phone beeped when he was exhaustedly crawling into his bed. It wasn’t likely to be a class email at this hour, but he checked anyway.

Hey it’s Ronan. Gansey gave me your number

Adam was still trying to coax his drained brain to process the words when a second text came in.

I had fun tonight

Adam took a shaky breath as he adjusted his pillow. This was possibly the first time he’d ever gotten a text that wasn’t over homework.

Me too, he sent. He hesitated before adding a smiling face.

I’m leaving town first thing tomorrow, Ronan said.

Adam knew he should say something back, but he didn’t know what would be appropriate. I’m sorry? Nice to have met you? Sorry I left so abruptly for no reason and now you must think I’m weird?

Back to the farm?, he finally wrote, remembering Ronan had said he cared for his family’s cattle for a living.

Yeah. But I’ll come up again soon so that Gansey doesn’t get clingy

Adam didn’t have time to think of an answer to that that made him sound clever or flirty or was more eloquent than a simple ok before Ronan swiftly added: So I was thinking we could meet? At a quieter place?

Adam’s cheeks burned in the dark room. His thumb hovered over the keyboard.

Sure, he wrote, because there was less risk of embarrassing himself if he only sent one word at a time.

Cool. I’ll text you. I’ll bring my lips too

Ok. Cool. Me too.

(next chapter)

[thefanficmonster]

Icy Fairytale

Boyinaband (Dave Brown) x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Romance, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Falling in love is walking on thin ice in and of itself, but what happens when it's literal? Yeah that's right - two ambitious individuals fall head over heels for one another on the delicate icy ground of a Brighton ice skating rink.

Requested by @onceuponadie Hi! Thank you so much for your request! I'm so sorry for the long wait but I still hope you find the time to enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

No matter how hard I try, I can't tie the laces of my skates properly. I can't tell what's wrong with me today but I know something's seriously not right. To be perfectly honest though, I might have an idea or two as to why this is happening to me but I'd rather keep my mouth shut on the subject to avoid the intense blush and the flock of butterflies that will inevitably attack my stomach. And I can't have that many distractions while I'm on the ice.

Oh who am I kidding, my main distraction is always there, either in front of me or by my side. Sometimes even holding onto me for support.

Dave Brown is the name of it.

The name I was completely indifferent to when it was first brought to my attention.

It was a cold rainy day in Brighton, the town I was still on-the-fence about at the time. My trainer had been wanting to collaborate with a trainer from the UK for a while and had finally scheduled and arranged for the two of us to be able to fly out there and meet with him. I thought my trainer was ambitious, but this this new guy was a whole new level of ambitious. I could tell right away he'd be hard to please and I had no issue with that - I am and I always have been a goal-getter; I myself am hard to please and I've often been called an 'obsessed artist' by my trainer so I was beyond excited for this new extraordinary and challenging journey.

I just didn't know that the challenging part wouldn't be the skating.

After a particularly long practice session, once I was finally left alone by my trainers, I stuck around at the skating rink to wind down and feel the freedom of skating how I want and how I know I'm supposed to. Free like a bird gliding through the sky, not bound by any choreography or anyone's rules and opinions. That's when I'm most myself.

And that's when I met him.

The rink was closed and suppose to be reserved for only me and my coaches for the day but him and his friends - now my friend too - Joel probably didn't think much of the notice on the door considering they had waltzed in with zero idea the vicinity was booked.

I was too entranced in my own world to notice their presence by the seats. I only took notice of the fact I wasn't alone when Joel called out to me.

"Are we interrupting? Is this a private session or something? We can leave, sorry for bothering you."

While the other boy was talking, Dave remained silent, blending into the background and not drawing any of my attention to him. And yes, maybe I was supposed to turn them back, tell them to leave and whatnot, but I did the exact opposite.

"Private session's over, you can stick around, it's not a problem." I said, slowly gliding over to the entrance of the rink where the boys were now standing after they finished climbing down the stairs to approach the ice rink.

I stopped in my tracks rather abruptly as to not crash into them, stabilizing myself before offering them my hand for a handshake. "I'm Y/N. Professional figure skater."

I couldn't help but let out a little giggle when their jaws went loose, hanging open in surprise. They were quick to regain their composure, Joel being the one to accept my hand first, followed by Dave, both of them introducing themselves as they did so.

"Cool streak." I casually pointed at the red streak in Dave's hair, "I've always wanted to dye my hair but I'm not allowed to by my trainer."

He scoffed at my remark, "Your trainer? He's got the audacity to boss you around? Does he not realize how lucky he is to have a skater like you to his name?"

I was understandably taken aback by this compliment. I'm used to being given compliments after my performances in competitions, but I've never considered my unchoreographed skating as anything more than mediocre. It was surprising to receive such a positive remark, heartwarming nonetheless though.

"That's so kind of you to say, Dave, thanks." I'm still a long way from knowing how to properly respond to compliments - mostly cause I don't believe them - but I'd like to think I handled that one well. No, I know I handled it well considering Dave, Joel and I have been friends ever since.

As to why they were at the skating rink that day - they wanted to fulfill a New Year's resolution they had made at the start of the year: learning how to ice skate because apparently they were hopeless at it. And yes, they were - they got on the ice with me that day and were dropping like flies. I considered it a miracle if they were even able to get off their asses on their own. I had to pull them up a couple of times - a gesture they paid me back for with lunch afterwards. Following that day, only Dave remained determined to make his resolution count and he kept coming to the ice rink to practice (read: fall and get back up) and learn with my help of course. It's safe to say I've never laughed so much in such a short period of time and never have I ever established a friendship so quickly with anyone ever. I guess being someone's ice skating buddy is a whole different level of a friendship where the rules of a regular friendship don't apply.

I soon came to realize why that was...

Because I suddenly found myself wanting more than a friendship with Dave. It's ridiculous as hell, as all goddamn hell, but I couldn't and still can't help myself. It's these little subtle signs that shine through my behavior, all completely unintentional. The lingering hold meant to keep him stable on his skates. The firm eye contact when I'm trying to get him to focus on his balance. The little touches and hugs all gestures meant to congratulate him on his little wins like falling and managing to get to his feet on his own; managing to make three solid strides without sprawling out on the ice, etc. I must be the worst ice skating instructor ever - as Dave gained more balance and needed my assistance less, I found myself missing the times I literally had to hold him up, his arms wrapped around me and mine around him. I miss the times he held my hand to avoid falling and still fell, sometimes dragging me down with him.

And I'm only gonna miss those times even more after tomorrow because after tomorrow, I'll no longer be in the UK and I'll no longer be there to see Dave's successes and fails. I'll no longer have him be my distraction, the only distraction I've ever approved of and wanted around. I'll no longer have a chance to feed into the temptation of telling Dave what I feel for him. It's a temptation and a fear and excites me just as much as it terrifies me, paralyzes me just thinking of the outcome, especially when I know I won't get my feelings reciprocated. I won't get anything better than a soft rejection from him yet I still want to come clean.

Why, you might be asking - well, it's rather simple, actually. I think he deserves to know how special he's made these last few months. How much he's made me fall in love with this city and the UK as a whole. How much I enjoyed our adventures both on and off the ice. How much fun I had going sightseeing with him as my tour guide.

How much I enjoyed his company and how hard I fell for him in the process.

Today's the last day of 'class' for the both of us but I just so happen to be the only one who's aware of it. Yeah, I've been one hell of a coward and never brought up my inevitable departure despite having been informed over a week ago. Exactly, I had a week to come clean about more things than one, but I chose silence.

And boy did that bad decision come to hit me against the back of the head like a boomerang. A mocking and particularly painful one at that.

Get it together, Y/N. One of these news you'll have to tell him, he has to know you're leaving. And the other...

"Sorry I'm late!" The familiar voice coming in a breathy yell from somewhere in the darkness surrounding the seats awakens me and frees me from my mind's battle with itself. "The rain only makes traffic worse."

Now or never. Don't drag it out and keep adding salt to the wound!

"I'm leaving!" I say, loud enough to be heard clearly despite our distance. Also loud enough to cover up the tremble in my voice. It took a lot of power just to say that one sentence, I wonder how I'm gonna power through having to explain it to him.

"Jeez, did I upset you that badly?" Dave surprises the hell out of me when he steps on the ice, already in his skates which I didn't even notice him put on. I'm not surprised by that to be honest, I'm too caught up in my own thoughts and how I'm displaying them in my demeanor to notice my surroundings.

"N-no, I..." so much for covering up that tremble in my voice, "I have to leave the UK...tomorrow...I'm going back home for a competition and to, you know, get ready for the Olympics...I don't know when or if I'll be back but I was hoping..."

"What? When'd you hear about this? Why so suddenly? Is it that big of an emergency that they inform you literally five minutes in advance?" There are enough emotions in his voice to prevent me from looking at his face, especially his eyes. I'm afraid of what kind of hurt or whatever other emotion I might see there.

I bite the inside of my cheek, "My trainer told me last week...", I admit, gritting my teeth and cringing as my stomach ties itself is several knots that are causing me great discomfort.

There's a pause which I'm assuming is meant for him to collect all his thoughts and properly process them. I'm afraid of what he'll say when he does.

"So I'm the one finding out five minutes before your departure?" He finally asks, the tone of voice he uses making my heart sink a little.

Damn it, Dave I already feel guilty enough, this is unnecessary!

No, no, he has a point and has every right to be upset. Friends don't keep friends in the dark about things like this. About any things really.

Then why do you keep him in the dark about literally EVERYTHING?

This is what I was afraid of - getting the temptation of coming clean. I have nothing to lose after all, I'm leaving tomorrow anyway. I'll lose him one way or another.

"Listen, Dave...", I didn't think this through but I'll improvise it, that's a better option than shutting my mouth and not saying another word, "I was gonna tell you, I really wanted to, but I couldn't...I couldn't bring myself to do it. I still don't want to believe that I'm leaving. I love it here and just the thought of leaving it all behind...it hurts, you know. And 'the more people know the realer it is' is a real thing so I didn't want...." I stop, my voice cutting off completely as I find myself weak on balance. Maybe standing in the middle of an ice rink isn't the best setting for this conversation. "I'm being ridiculous and I'm stalling like a coward." I say that more to myself than to him but I don't let him speak. Instead, I continue my rambling after a brief sigh.

Dave, God bless his soul, stays silent and just looks at me with this curious gaze which is letting me know he's holding back for my sanity's sake, allowing me to take a breather and collect my thoughts before I express them to avoid misunderstanding me.

I inhale, finally ready to start talking, "Alright, here we go...Look, I don't want to end this...friendship between us on a bad note but I don't want it to end with there still being secrets between us so I'm gonna finally say what I've been wanting and not wanting to tell you for a while now. It's on you whether it'll be a bad ending to a good story or not, but I just need to get it off my chest, ok?"

He nods, not at all as hesitantly as I thought he would which is relieving to see, so I continue.

"This is gonna sound pathetic and downright laughable but here it goes - I like you, Dave. The kind of like where I see you as more than a friend and sometimes even wish you would see me the same way as well despite being sure you don't. And please, if you plan on pulling a pity act give me a heads up so I can just walk aw-"

My ramble is put to an end when Dave puts his hand up, pointer finger in the air and almost touching my lips as a gesture to shush me. I am typically one of the hardest people to shut up EVER, but now the words die down on their own as if they are even happy to be put to rest at his request.

"Y/N you are the most talented, most graceful, the kindest and most beautiful and smartest person I have ever met and yet you still also happen to be the densest and most ignorant when it comes to the people around you. You're a people pleaser, I've figured out as much, but goddamn it, you rarely know what a person actually wants. I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, this could just be the case with me and an inability to show emotion which I haven't known about all this time, but still - if your dense ass hasn't noticed it yet I'll say it out loud for you and if you still find a way to misinterpret it, I'll spell it out for you in huge neon letters, got it?" He makes something barely alike a pause before sighing, "Y/N L/N, the most densest person in this whole word, you've had me star-struck since day one and I've only been falling deeper and harder in love with you ever since. And you don't have even the slightest clue of what happened to me and my heart a couple minutes ago when you said you were leaving. Believe what you wanna, but words have never crushed me harder ever before and trust me, that says a lot. So, before you go and think you have my emotions figured out, remember that I actually know how to skate."

That's A LOT to take in. It's got layers upon layers of questions followed by answers followed by even more questions that I'm not sure I'm prepared to ask or answer.

So he's liked me since the day we met? Love at first sight? Nah, that shit only exists in movies.

He was hurt by that? I hurt him by not telling him then I hurt him by telling him and I'll hurt him the hardest when I leave tomorrow. How am I supposed to not feel responsible for putting so much pain on him without even realizing it?

And wait - he knows how to skate???

"You can skate? Like, you can can skate? Like, you're not a hopeless case like you've made me believe?" I ask, one of my eyebrows shooting up suspiciously.

Dave goes from looking puzzled to cracking up with laughter within a second after hearing my question, "Oh Y/N, you're so adorable. That's what's got you puzzled the most out of all I just said?"

I narrow my eyes at him, folding my arms over my chest defensively, "Well the rest seems pretty cut-and-dry, if you ask me." I say sarcastically, earning another laugh from him.

It's only now that I notice how confidently he's standing on the ice - as though he's standing on solid, non-slippery ground which is far from the image I have of Dave while on ice. The uncertainty, the lack of stability, it's all disappeared from his still demeanor which now makes a lot more sense.

He smirks at me, "Does it now, densey?"

I frown at the nickname, "Don't call me th-"

He doesn't let me finish, instead presses his lips against mine, the contact making me lose balance on my skates. Luckily, he probably calculated this risk in advance cause his arms wrap around me instantly, preventing me from slipping more than an inch.

"Who needs to be held up now?" He asks, pressing his forehead against mine when we pull away from the kiss.

I keep my eyes closed despite the urge to roll them in playful annoyance, "Oh, shut it."

And he does so by pressing his lips against mine once again.

What will happen once I leave, I have not the slightest clue. Hell, I don't even know what'll happen when we pull away permanently and get off the ice we're standing on. But I do know what's happening right now - I'm kissing Dave Brown and nothing's ever felt this right before.

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