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feverinfeveroutfic · 5 months

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hanukkah bingo 2023

Fic or Art/Graphic Title: alone in the dark, chapter one: “Lost Keys” Author/Artist Name: josiebelladonna Fandom: Testament (Band) Jewish or Jew-Ish Character(s): Alex Skolnick (and how) Bingo Squares Being Filled: k5 (light in the dark), a2 (menorah), u1 (latkes), u2 (sufganiyot), h3 (gelt) Rating: Mature Warning(s): Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Link to Work: x @aimmyarrowshigh

The orange light from the clouds overhead guided our way as we inched along the streets, which grew whiter and whiter with each and every passing minute; I had hunkered down in the front seat next to Wendy while Christine lingered in the back. As long as we were warm and headed back for warmth, I was okay with it all. And I was okay knowing that I could rest my wallet as well. A few times, I took out my hands and cupped them over my mouth and blew into them, but then again, I wasn't the one driving.

I still argued with myself that I should not be there with them, that I did not want to impose, but I had no other choice, however.

Once the streets collected together into a tightly woven neighborhood, I finally tucked my hands into my pockets and gazed out the window as well as the windshield. Even though the power was out across town, the clouds still loomed low with that ghoulish orange glow right over the city like the threat of having your throat slit. Every so often, a glimmer of light poked through the increasing snow, the windshield wipers which moved at a furious pace to keep up with the snow, and the trees along the sides of the streets, but the darkness itself worried me in a way. Reno had gone all dark for the most part in the wake of an incoming blizzard.

“I hope they're home,” Wendy said aloud as we slowly turned a corner: the street was lined with a lot of trees so the snow slowed up the tiniest bit. Flakes still fluttered down before us to the point it nearly blocked out the view of the headlights; it was a miracle we could even see the outlines of the trees and the houses around us. “I called my mom before we got on the plane and she said they were down in Carson City all afternoon, and they were going to try and get home before the snow came in. It's only about a forty minute drive from here but with all of this snow, I think it's going to be a lot longer. If they aren't home, let's at the very least try and get in so the three of us can all be under a roof. We can't really cook anything, either, because their stove is electric.”

“So, we'll go out to eat?” I asked her.

“If something is open, yeah,” she replied. “If not, we'll try and think of something.”

“Remember the time we drove back up here from Carson and it snowed, and it took us like an hour to get across Washoe Valley?” Christine recalled.

“How could I forget!” Wendy declared. “It was just last winter, too. They said it was one of the worst winters on record, too.”

“How bad was it?” I asked her.

“It was a lot like this—” She gestured out the windshield. “—except replace the neighborhoods with a long flat stretch of road before you, and the wind's howling like a son of a bitch. And all you can see is falling snow and the break lights in front of you, like you're taking a road to icy hell.”

“Highway to hell,” I cracked.

“Highway to hell, exactly!” She laughed at that, albeit nervous laughter. We reached a stop sign, already hidden under a fine layer of snow and ice as well as a darkened street lamp, and we proceeded ahead another block before we turned right around another corner.

“Here we are,” she proclaimed, and we parked up at the curb and the frozen storm drain; I gazed out the window to the little house tucked back behind a series of cottonwood trees. The pitch black windows gazed back at us like the eyes of a skull, and a thin layer of snow had already buried the porch.

“It doesn't look like they're home,” I confessed to her.

“Let's go check, anyways,” she said.

“Do you have a key?” I asked her.

“I don't, no,” she admitted with a shake of her head. “And my mom didn't know if she left the door unlocked for us, either.”

A pit emerged in my stomach at the sound of that, but then again, I was also hungry: I hadn't eaten anything since earlier that day, a few hours before I had left for the airport; it had been at least over five hours since I had last eaten anything. With my hands still tucked into my pockets, I rested them right on my stomach. It was a shame, too, because I looked forward to having some late night New York cheesecake and a cup of coffee with my mom once she picked me up.

Wendy switched off the engine but kept the headlights on so we could see what we were doing. She tugged the hood of her coat over her head; I was going to look like Johnny Winter once all of this was said and done.

I climbed out first and the snow stuck to the crown of my head, at least part of the way. Careful not to set foot in the storm drain, I stuck my legs out to the sidewalk, and I steadied myself on the side of the car. My shirt lifted up so the snow landed on my bare skin; much to my surprise, the snow was dry as a bone, like fluffy white flour that fell from the sky. I lifted myself into an upright position and straightened out my spine all the while.

“Like a big worm,” Christine cracked as she climbed out of the opposite side of the car. I fixed the lapels of my coat as the two women followed suit behind me, both of them careful not to slip on the sidewalk or step in the drain.

The three of us then made our way to the front step; in the dim light, I spotted a small pile of snow collecting on top of the porch light right over us. I was going to have to tell my parents about all of the snow out in Reno once I managed to come home!

Wendy knocked on the door panel first, and we awaited there, huddled together like a small group of emperor penguins. My coat was warm, but the snow kept landing atop my head and it sent a chill down my spine. Christine nestled close to me, such that the crown of her fiery red hair was right underneath my nose.

Silence awaited on the other side of the door. Wendy knocked again, and once again, we were met with more silence.

“I don't think they're home, Mom,” Christine proclaimed, and she reached forward for the doorknob. Locked.

“Oh, Jesus—I don't have a key, either,” Wendy bemoaned.

“Do you know when they're getting home?” I asked her.

“I don't, no.”

“What do you think we should do?” Christine joined in. Wendy turned her head towards the side of the house and sighed.

“This is going to get us in a heap of trouble down in the line but—go around back and see if the back door is open.”

“Here, I'll come with you,” I offered her.

“If you kids can get in the house, I'll go wait in the car,” Wendy told us.

Our feet crunched along the snow and the dormant grass underneath, and I knew it was a bad idea to wear sneakers instead of my boots. I used the light in the sky as well as the light from the car on Christine's red hair as my guide around the side of the house. It was like following a little red ghost through the darkness and the snow.

At one point, she turned back for a glance at me.

“Are you with me?”

“Of course,” I promised her, and then she giggled. “What?”

“You should see your hair,” she said. “It's like pure white.”

“I'm like Johnny Winter,” I joked, and she giggled some more.

We reached the back of the house and the protected back porch; I stood under the awning and shook my head about to rid of the snow. Even though it was so dry, it still sent a chill down my spine and left the sides of my face and neck damp.

“Never knew snow could get so dry and powdery,” I admitted to her as I fixed the lapels of my coat once again. “It's like bread flour or matzo meal falling from the sky.”

“Me neither! It always surprises me how dry it is here, too. I remember the first time we came out here to visit my grandparents, it was so dry your hair would stand up no matter what you were doing.”

“That is as they say, dry as a bone,” I remarked.

Though it was dark, I could see the back door and the windows on either side of it. Christine jiggled the doorknob and sighed.

“It's been quite some time since I last did this,” she told me, and she stepped for the window on the right.

“Can you see?” I asked her.

“Somewhat. It's more about feeling the frame—I'm gonna need help getting this thing off, though.”

I joined her in prying off the protective screen from the window, and all the while, we were careful not to bend the actual metal framing itself. I set the screen down on the concrete below the window sill, and she tugged on the inside edge of the window.

“Can you get it?” I asked her, and the window ground open. It was going to be difficult with the blinds in particular, but she didn't seem to mind. She pulled on the drawstring, and we were met with the back of the house. Careful not to slip, she set one foot on the sill and hoisted herself up off the ground.

“Can you make it?” I asked her.

“I think I can,” she grunted out as she set her other foot up on the sill. “Not the first time I've had to climb in through the window.”

“That makes two of us,” I assured her as she sat down on the sill with her feet dangled down towards the floor. Gingerly, she stepped on something and hopped down from there to the dry carpet.

“Be careful, there's a footstool down here and it's a little old and rickety,” she advised me.

Nevertheless, I stripped off my coat and handed it to her, and I followed suit. But before I did, I stopped.

“Does the door here lock by key, too?” I asked her.

“You bet your booty it does,” she told me. “The front door has a dead bolt, though.” I shivered as I climbed up onto the sill next. Because I was taller, I nearly hit my head on the side of the window as I brought my right foot in, followed by my left. Indeed, the soles of my shoes rested on a footstool, and I knew it wasn't going to support my weight, either. I slid forward so my feet were past the top of the stool and I nearly hit my head on the wall in the process.

“Ow!”

“You okay?” she asked me, concerned.

“Yeah. I may be a skimpy little Jew boy but I'm tough, though. We're a tough, tenacious people.”

I stood up, albeit with a bit of difficulty as the cold and skipping over things made my knees quiver. I still shivered from the cold, and I turned around and slid the window shut: I hoped the loud click! was loud enough for Wendy to hear on the other side of the house. I then returned my attention to her and the doorway before us: nothing but darkness in front of us. She handed me my coat back and I was eager to put it back on to keep me warm.

“Can you see?” I asked her as I fixed the lapels of my coat.

“Sort of,” she replied; through the dim light, I saw her move ahead to the mouth of the hallway. Near total blackness as we crept past what I though was the bathroom, followed by her grandparents' bedroom. She then stuck out her hand to the wall on the right, and she slipped into the next room ahead, what I believed was the guest bedroom.

I followed suit right behind her, just as she crawled down onto her hands and knees in front of the bed in there. There was just enough light for me to see what she was doing. I had nothing more than my hand on the wall to steady myself and my other hand hanging out in the air. She rummaged about under the bed for a moment, before I heard something metallic clinking and clanking on the mattress frame.

“What did you find?” I asked her again. A bright white halogen light flashed right into my face.

“Ah!” I covered my eyes with one hand.

“Sorry.” She laughed at that, and she moved the head of the flashlight up towards the ceiling. “I couldn't help that.” I squinted my eyes at her, and she snickered at me some more. Seventeen or not, I knew what she was getting at there. The back glow of the light shone down onto her red hair and slender face; it looked as though her skin was made of moonstone; I noticed she had found two halogen flashlights, one for herself and one for me.

“I've been meaning to ask you this, but how old are you?” she began again.

“Older than you,” I teased her, and she snickered some more. “I turned twenty six back in September.”

“Twenty six, ya old boy,” she retorted to me, to which I rolled my eyes at that.

“It's not that old,” I scoffed back. “Thirty's old.”

“It's hard to imagine yourself at thirty,” she confessed.

“I definitely think so,” I said with a nod.

“My ex's birthday was in September,” she added, and she ran her fingers through her red hair. “I still think about him sometimes.” I raised my eyebrows at that.

“May I ask why he's your ex if you still think about him?”

“You don't wanna know,” she confessed with a shake of her head.

“Sure I do.”

“You don't. Trust me, you—you don't.”

I squinted my eyes at that. Through the bright light of the halogen flashlight, I could see it in her eyes. Something tormented this girl.

“How 'bout you?” she asked me, and she showed me the tip of her tongue. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Had,” I corrected her. “She and I broke up a few months back. It's...” I shook my head. “It's a long story.”

“If it's a long story, why won't you tell me?”

“Because your break up story is apparently a long one and you won't tell me,” I quipped back to her, and I couldn't help but laugh.

“There's... not much to say with me and him, though,” she assured me, and her voice softened to a near whisper. “He, too, was a Jewish boy. I mean, one of my last good memories of him took place on the last night of Hanukkah, where I thought for sure he was going to kiss me once his parents lit up the menorah.”

“Oh, so sort of like the New Year's kiss but not entirely,” I followed along. Christine lowered her eyelids at me, and through the ambient light from the flashlight, I noticed her looking at the crotch of my pants. It was only but a quick glimpse, but I caught her in the act anyway. I remembered when I was seventeen and I thought about kissing more girls as well as having a little fun with one: getting close to adulthood and having all these feelings kicked up a few years prior. Maybe it was just my own mind standing in the way but I had no courage to talk to one until rather recently.

“Did she ever touch your lips?” she asked me, and she inched closer to me as if to bring her chest to my own.

“With what?” I retorted back, and I wondered what she was getting at here.

“You tell me,” she said.

“You know, I think your mom's waiting for us in the car,” I pointed out.

“We're not going out there until you tell me,” she quipped with a wink and a little gyration to her. Seventeen and she was already two steps ahead of me.

“She did kiss me good night about twice,” I confessed.

“Twice? Just twice?”

“Yes. Just twice. She never really kissed me much when I think about it.”

“If I was your girlfriend, I would want to kiss you all the time,” she confessed. “I would want to touch those cherry lips all the time, just to taste and feel them, and I know for a fact that we both would love it.”

“I'm sure you would love it,” I teased her.

“What're you saying? That you wouldn't love it? A sensual guy like yourself?”

“Not necessarily,” I pointed out. “I have to feel you against me to know if I would love it.”

She gaped at me, and she swatted at me.

“Bad boy, flirting with a teenage girl,” she teased me.

“Hey, you started it,” I quipped. “I'm just rollin' with the punches.”

She showed me her tongue, and I stepped out of the way for her with my back pressed to the door frame. It was there I spotted the old silvery camera on the dresser right in front of me.

“Wow, it's been a while since I saw a camera like that,” I told her, and she shone the flashlight onto the top of the dresser. The silvery rim shimmered as if it was brand new, but the lens had obviously faded into a deep maroon color.

“You know, I've thought about taking up photography at some point,” I said to her.

“What kind of photography? Sexy photography?”

“Pfff, you wish,” I teased her. “I think more about like... travel photography. Life in other places, especially since I make a living going places and fucking around on my guitar. It doesn't pay much, but it's enough for me to keep my head above water, though.”

“So, sexy photography,” she followed along as she moved in closer to me.

“And again, you wish,” I teased her again.

“By the way, that's my grandpa's camera, so be careful with it,” she advised me.

“What, did you think I'm gonna use someone else's camera for a good time?” I joked, and she giggled at that like a little schoolgirl.

“Unless you want to play around with that,” she quipped.

“Maybe when it's lighter, I'll consider it,” I assured her, and I hoped she saw me wink at her. Christine handed me the second flashlight, and I clicked it on so we both could see where we were going in that hallway.

We passed another bedroom before we reached what looked to be the dining room, followed by an office and then finally the living room and the kitchen. We ducked into the latter for a search of anything to eat.

“Your mom said this stove is electric, too,” I said. “Meaning, nothing to eat and there's probably no shower, either.”

“The shower's actually run on propane, but yeah—nothing to eat. Go out to eat instead, and then come back here and try and entertain ourselves.”

I opened the fridge, and I shone the flashlight into there: there wasn't much in there anyway, other than a carton of milk, a carton of eggs, two sticks of butter, a bottle of beer, and a bowl of grapes in the crisper drawer.

“To say we need groceries in this house is an understatement,” Christine declared.

“Yeah, you do.” I looked on at the empty crisper drawers, which had nothing more than paper towels at the bottoms as well as that bowl of grapes. I closed the door and turned my attention to her. “Now, understand this is just the hungry boy on the first night of Hanukkah in me talking, but what on Earth do your grandparents even eat?”

“I don't really know, to be honest,” she confessed to me. “My grandpa's the one who always likes to have cookies and sweet treats and things where my grandma's a little more conservative about it. Question, what exactly do you eat at Hanukkah, anyway?”

“Oh, we have latkes, we have Hanukkah gelt—chocolate coins—we have donut holes and lots of warm and humble food. It's not much but it's what we've got, though. When I was a kid growing up in the Bay Area, I always looked forward to having gelt and apple pie in particular.”

“Oh, wow. You have donut holes, really?” Her face lit up at that.

“Sufganiyot,” I clarified. “And they are pretty much like donut holes—they're filled jelly, and they're just—” I brought my free hand to my chest. “—so heavenly and light especially once they come out of the fryer. The cool thing about Hanukkah is even though it's associated with us, it's actually not fully tied into the Jewish culture. It's about a miracle that happened. It's the same reason why I love Halloween so much, too: it's not completely tied down to a faith.”

“That's really interesting, actually,” she confessed. “And it sounds fun, too. I mean, what gets better than eating a bunch of warm food on a cold day after all?”

“I can't think of much, to be honest,” I said. “Anyways, let's go to your mom. She's probably freezing out there...”

I held the flashlight up to the side of my head and the two of us walked on out of the kitchen to the front door. Indeed, the dead bolt had been pulled closed, and I worried about not having a key to lock it once we were out of there. But then another thought crossed my mind right then.

“You think I'm sensual, really?” I asked her in a low voice.

“Those eyebrows, those lips, and that long hair... yeah.” Through the halogen light reflected back from the door, I saw her eyes locked onto my face as well as my upper body. Even in the dark, she checked me out. “You're—dare I say, sexy. Sexy and very handsome, too.”

“You think I'm handsome, too?” I raised an eyebrow at her.

“Quite.” She nibbled her bottom lip and opened the door for us. Indeed, Wendy had gone off to the car to stay warm, and she awaited us; Christine closed the door behind her without locking it.

“Are you sure we can get away with that here?” I asked her. “My parents live in the outskirts of New York City, and even they lock their doors at night, especially when the power's out.”

“Oh, yeah, I promise we're not gonna go very far,” she vowed. “A snowstorm like this brings most things to a standstill, too.”

We crunched along the lawn back to the car, whereby I called out “shotgun!” first, much to her chagrin. But once again, I had to stretch my body just to get back into the front seat, and that time, I had to be careful not to sink my ass into the seat lest it put pressure on things. Christine climbed in on the other side, and we both kicked off the extraneous snow from our feet before we settled in all the way. I ran a hand over the top of my head, and I once again had a fair dusting all on the top layer of my hair.

Wendy rubbed her hands together and fired up the car: we were greeted with a hefty blast of tepid air, which only made me shiver even more.

“Let's get some heat in here,” she suggested and, carefully, we rolled ahead along the street. I had no idea where we were going, but then again, all I really cared about was to be warm before we ate anything. I kept my hands stuffed in my pockets, and my hands on my stomach just to feel my own warmth.

We kept on going straight for what felt like an eternity, and more so the case with that fine powdery snow falling all around us to create those drifts that looked as though they were on the inside of the flour box at my grandma's house.

A break in the snow allowed us to see ahead to the red neon light in a window on the side of the road. A warmly lit oasis in a pure white desert.

“Here we are!” Wendy declared.

“Good to see their lights are on,” I said as we bounded into the driveway. The back end of the car shook out a bit, but she caught it before we could veer sideways. We took the spot furthest away from the front door in the shadows, but at least we had a spot.

Wendy and I climbed out first, and Christine followed suit. I shivered even more as the air coming out of the vents did nothing to help. I was cold and hungry and without my parents, but at least I had a place to go. I held the door for the two of them and we made our way into the warm, dry restaurant: only a few of the ceiling lights over our heads were lit up, but it was enough for things to keep on rolling in there, and the warmth of wooden walls brought me at ease.

“Good to know there's a few people in here, though,” Wendy said to us.

“And it smells good,” Christine added.

“And it smells good, yeah!” I said with a chuckle.

The waitress in a long sleeved shirt and a black apron strode on up to us.

“Are you guys coming in from the Bay Area, too?” she asked us.

“As a matter of fact, we did,” Wendy informed her.

“We've come here because it's warm and it smells like French fries,” Christine said without skipping a beat.

“It's always a good reason!” the waitress chuckled at that. “We're running on a generator so we're able to make food and what have you. Because there's only a few people in here, you three can sit wherever you'd like.”

“Excellent!” Wendy said, and I spotted the payphones on the far wall of the room.

“I have to call my mother,” I told them. “It's almost eleven o'clock at night over there in New York, but I don't care—I need to call my mom. I'll be right back...”

While the two of them made their way over to the table in the middle of the room, away from the windows, I sauntered over to the other side of the room, right near the bathrooms, which I was going to have to visit as well.

I took out the two quarters I had in my wallet and stuck it into the slot, and I dialed the number.

It rang once, twice—

“Hello?” It was so comforting to hear my mom's voice again.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Oh, hi, Alex, honey! I was just thinking about going over to the airport to come and pick you up. What's going on?”

“The flight was cancelled, there's a blizzard over the Rockies and another one over the Northwest. The airport's closed, too, so I'm stuck in Reno right now.”

“Oh, no! Oh, bubbeleh, I'm so sorry. Do you know when it's all going to pick up again?”

“I don't, no...” I peered out the window before me to see the fine flakes of snow collecting and creating bigger flakes the size of quarters out there. “The snow's coming down pretty hard, too. Two of the passengers offered to take me home for the time being, so we're get something to eat and then go and get warm, too.”

“Oh, good! Well—we'll keep an ear out for the phone again, and I'll tell your father what's going on. It's the weirdest thing, your brother called about an hour ago and he said he's probably going to be late because of weather, too.”

“Really?” I asked, and I couldn't resist showing a grin at that. “The snow's funny here, too, it's all dusty and powdery. But I wish I was over there, though.”

“I wish you were, too. I guess I'll go to bed early tonight. You stay safe and warm for me, baby, okay?”

“Of course! Good night, Mom—love you.”

“I love you, too, bubbeleh,” she said back, and we hung up at the same time. I closed my eyes and let out a low whistle. At least now my mom knew what was going on. I turned my attention back to the restaurant behind me; another year where I didn't get my throat slit or my brains shot out of my head, so I may as well eat up. I doubled back around the corner, and I passed the bar before the kitchen, and I recognized that tweed suit looking back at me with a younger woman next to him.

“Hey, Frank!” I said in passing.

“Hello, son!” he greeted me, and the woman flashed a glimpse at me as I walked on by, back to our table in the middle of the room. Wendy quizzically looked on at me.

“The old man from the plane,” I explained. “He was sitting right next to me and we were joking about how we'd be the last people we saw if we crashed.”

Wendy chuckled at that, but I was being completely serious. I peeled off my coat and draped it over the back of the chair.

“And now I have to see a man about a horse,” I told them.

“We'll be waiting for you,” Christine said to me, and I swore that she winked at me.

On one hand, it was too much. A teenage girl who may or may not have just gotten out of a relationship herself was flirting with me, and I had no idea as to how to deal with it, and more so when I stood before the wall in the men's room with my pants pulled down a bit. In fact, I didn't even want to think about it, especially when I still had the pain in my own heart to deal with even two months after the fact as well.

But then again, I was in her position once. In fact, when I was seventeen, I would have loved for girls to at the very least look at me and come up to me, especially with my hair as long as it was and especially when I was up on stage performing.

In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if it was really only natural. The two of us having come out of a relationship that changed us and we somehow found each other by mere chance in spite of our age difference. There was something oddly beautiful about it.

I gave myself a shake and zipped up, and then I washed my hands. Once all the soap was out of my palm, I cupped my hand and ran a handful of warm water over the crown of my head. I had wet hair, but the warm water felt good on my scalp; plus, I was a dirty boy, I needed to rinse myself before I went back out there. I switched off the water and shook my hair about again before I dried off my hands and bowed out of there.

I was once again met with Christine, but that time with a big white china bowl in her hands as well as a metal spoon.

“What's this?” I asked her.

“Applesauce,” she said. “The waitress told me there was a lot leftover in the kitchen from when they made spice cake earlier today and she gave me some on the house.” She dipped the head of the spoon into the sauce and showed it to me.

“Love me some applesauce,” I told her, and I took the spoon for myself. We locked eyes as I stuck it into my mouth, and then I closed my eyes to feel the tiny bit of spice on my tongue. The tiniest bit of spice on the pad of my tongue, much like how Christine herself was the tiniest bit of spice in an otherwise cold environment.

“Hits the spot,” I said once I swallowed it down. I adjusted the bottom hem of my shirt, to which she dropped her gaze to my waist once again, and she really did look at my waist that time. She didn't look at my crotch; she looked at my stomach.

She showed me a playful little smirk before she turned the other way and walked back to our table. But then she stopped just prior to the kitchen door, and she turned around for a look at me.

“Are you coming?”

“Of course!” I declared, and I ambled up behind her. Once I stood next to her, she gestured for me to come in closer to her face as if she was going to tell me a secret.

“You actually remind me so much of him,” she confessed to me in a low voice. “The only difference is your eyes. And your hair, too: he didn't go gray so early.”

“Really?”

And she nodded her head, and she stepped away from there and back to our table. I followed close behind her, and I started to wonder what exactly happened to her and her ex before we crossed paths.

#hanukkahbingo #hanukkah 2023 #hanukkah #alone in the dark #alex skolnick #as the seasons grey #as the seasons grey fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #testament fanfic #testament #testament band #also on ao3 #writing #text

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thetinylittlespider · 5 months

Text

Tearing Up: Season 1

Chapter 7: Eye Spy

Cw: Lot of blood, mature language, this chapter does has...lot of blood and gore.

KU-M9's POV:

It happened fast, even if that little noise in my head warned me about it, I doubted I could ever react to it.

Both of the giant figures that once were ready to let me go, now vanished right in front of me, not even giving me a chance to blink before a shadow replaced their place...an even bigger, intimidating, and stronger person...One who I almost forgot given the time I was having my little adventure.

Are you done wasting my time?

Her voice reverbrated every single bone in my body, she towered over me giving me a cold stare, my "caring" sister...

How much time has it been since I left the cave? Was I knocked out that much time? Was she back already?

ーH-How did you...Found me?ー I asked, still in shock while she looked around with no care of my concern. She was looking for something.

There were no prey...not one that could fill me anyways, so I thought about coming near the camping areas, to my surprise...I smelled you, and you lead me towards today's dinner, so...We might forget this whole "You disobeying me" thing.

T-Today's dinner!? What did she meant?

The humans, no, I could not let her, they never meant to cause me harm...They were about to let me go before she showed up! They were...

They were not here...

I had to turn my head towards a bunch of trees, where the stains of blood decorated the woods, slowly dripping to the grass resonating the impact again...and again. The more I stood looking, the more I got to understand the image in front of me. A titanic piece of flesh, probably the torso of the man, it was completely separated from the rest of the body, I could not even recognize it anymore

ーW-Why did you...Y-you didn't had to...ー I was trying to create a sentence, but I felt that my muscles were too tense, I was afraid, concerned? I didn't want those humans to die, I was just there to know more about them...and now, now...

"Help"

It was a weak tone, but it was there, along with other words...Struggling to release them, barely breathing while her own blood was filling her lungs...Beth, she had been hit by her partner's own body, if she was alive, it was because the one taking the impact was the destroyed body that once resembled a man. But she got hurt severely as collateral...

A thundering step snapped me back to the situation, and the rumbling on the ground with each step my sister took towards the human woman were increasing my anxiety, I could not let her do that, I couldn't let that woman die when they just showed me mercy...When it was my fault that my sister found them.

ーHey! Wait! Just wait! S-She needs to leave!ー I tried to walk towards her, trying to move the grass that was on my way with my arms, but I fell to the ground thanks to my steps being way too unstable, legs shaking like crazy...I was afraid to face her.

What did you say?

Her voice booming with clear annoyance at my words, stopping her movements just to stare at me, frowning expression, like if she couldn't believe I was trying to side with her "prey". The way her eyes met my whole being was enough to freeze me in place, I wasn't sure if that was just my brain's natural response to incoming danger or it was just how intimidating and deadly she looked at that size...She wouldn't hurt me, right? Even when she could...

ーI just...I just think we have enough with just one of them...There is nothing wrong with letting one go, s-she can go search for help, s-she can be saved.ー I replied in a soft and unsteady tone of voice, like if I was on the verge of crying, but no tears came out.

Yeah, why not? Let her go search for help, let's wait until the news about us spread before it's needed, if we are lucky, they'll manage to capture me and you will be stored in a glass box again! They will probably rip your limbs now that your regeneration works, one of many things to discover, new ways of holding us back. Great idea "9"!

She was being sarcastic, she was mocking me while I just watched as the shockwave of another heavy step send chills down my spine. She had turned around to get back to business. To finish what she started.

ーW-we can try and explain her, please...Vio-..."3"! Just let her go...We can make her promise!ー I begged again, increasing my tone of voice as she grabbed the human by the head, her hand was big enough to cover almost the entirety of it.

Humans are all the same, they are weak, beings that manipulate others for their sake. Their strenght comes from sacrificing others. They can't be trusted. 15 years living under their thumb should've taught you that already. And this woman, is no exception.

The woman gasped for air, her legs started to kick with no result at the figure of my sister, she was just annoyed by my reaction, so to bury those feelings on my part...She had to dealt with the problem quick.

I felt like I was swallowing a stone, words didn't made their way out of my mouth, and I fell to my knees once I saw my sister hand pressing the head of her victim...Being the only thing audible a grotesque "crunch."

It was my fault, they died because of me...

She would've come here anyways...No, no, not this close...

I just wanted know what they did...I just wanted to see something different for once!

This isn't fair...Why!? Why the first humans that aren't entire monsters die like that!? Why!?

I was absorbed in thought, in painful, terrified and awful thought...I didn't even noticed the voice of my sister calling me, or her fingers falling around me to take my body like if I was some sort of item. Not even her unregulated strenght against my ribs snapped me back...All I could feel was that smell, the blood that decorated my sister's finger...Let alone the bodies she carried in her other hand, she produced a web to store the human limbs like if it was some sort of bag...

I just stared at nothing, lost in words and in thoughts...Remembering the laboratory, my other siblings killing each other right in front of me...Again, I could do nothing to stop the horrors in front of me.

Hey, are you okay? You haven't touched your food at all...I don't want you to starve to death, and we need you at 100% for when you are ready to grow.

I finally came back to my senses, back in the cave, no longer in the hands of my sister, my orange uniform now stained by her bloody fingers, leaving a clear imprint of her index and thumb in both the front and back side of my clothes. Still disturbed by my own thoughts, by my weakness...

ーI am not hungry.ー I replied in a cracked and low tone of voice. I usually never refused to what my sister brought to eat. I had probably had small portions of humans before, I could not tell the difference. But this time, I saw how it happened, my heart sinking into disgust and pain. Guilt.

Her reaction was one of concern, she was the only family I had after escaping the lab, she only wanted to make me stronger, one to give her company at the top of the food chain, the place we were meant to have.

She could not stop talking about it, I woke up every single day listening to how she would break the "failure" tag off me. How she would make me exactly like her, to give everyone in the world the place they deserved beneath us. She was there a few years longer than I did, I had no idea how rough things could've been for her, I did hated my life there, there was no day were I didn't beg for someone to end my life right there and then.

But I was a failure.

A waste of time. A waste of oxygen.

I was given low attention in contrast to my siblings, perhaps they did had it worst than I did...Maybe that was the reason I didn't turned out to be as feral as they were in our meeting.

And why is that? Is it because of your little adventure? Tsk...Listen, I'm not mad anymore, in a way, you helped me find food, you should be proud for doing more than attempting to read books you don't understand, or even pretend to be human. Eat up, little guy! Just wait until you are ready to get your vaccine. Then we will no longer hide.

She just grabbed a piece of the human's flesh and then continued eating without a care in the world, just smiling by her own comment, and of course...Ignoring how much those words hurt me. The only thing wondering in my mind was a question. Why did it hurt me?

At first I was scared of humans, beings so far above me, they created me...And I dissapointed them, the pain in the tortures faded away by the years. Eventually, I wanted to know why they were doing all of this to me, why subject me into that amount of suffering? Perhaps if I could learn more about them, I could've prevented everything...If I was closer to them, I could understand them.

But I could not do that if I killed every single one of them out of spite...

I could never get the real human emotions if I just let my sister be a fear factory!

I would never be like them if I kept acting like a beast!

ーI said I don't want to! I don't like this!ー I could sense the giant figure besides me stared at me now with an anger that refused to go away soon. Perhaps my tone was not the best for a situation like this, but I grew tired of her comments, of her behaviour. I didn't want her goal.

A furious hand fell next to me in the shape of a fist, cracking the ground below me, forcing me to fall in my back, staring now into the furious eyes of my sister...I had to be honest, I feared for a couple of seconds that my response would lead to my death at the hands of my sister...After all this time. But no...She just stared at me, her other hand dropped the piece of meat she was eating, and wrapped itself into another fist.

Be quiet.

But I refused to let that scare me...

ーA-And you know what? Kill me if you want to! All you have done is preparing me to turn out like a MONSTER! One that doesn't care for anything! Nor siblings! Or for anyone else! Those people never caused me any harm! They were not like the people in the lab! And you murdered them because you think they're all the same trash! So do your future a favor and end me now-...ー

My words were cut short by the sound of a metal object in the inside of the cave...My sister seemed to noticed it before I did, she just looked confused for a second at what the object was...And then...

Get down!

Never have I heard her lose her cool like this...Not in an audible manner...

The object exploded, liberating a huge amount of fire...a bright light was all that I could see at the distance...before the giant shadow of Violet was casted over me...Everything went dark for a second...All I could make up in my mind was a sentence.

"They found us."

#KumorianOC #please give me feedback #g/t #amateur writer #size difference #g/t writing

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zafirosreverie · 3 years

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Must be the eyes (Teacher!Agatha x Fem!Student!Reader) part 2

(Part 1)

a/n: this is long, like, really long. Uppsies

- - - - - - - - - - -

Salem ... you were going to Salem !!

Nick laughed at you when you jumped out of happiness, before wrapping your arms around him and spinning him around. You were quite excited.

"I see someone is excited" he laughed as you let him go

"Sorry" you laughed "I just can't believe it! We’re going to Salem, Nick!" you screamed with excitement

"Yes yes, I was in class too, history girl” he laughed again "But it doesn't seem a bit strange to you that just last friday you mentioned that you wanted to go, and today, monday, they tell us that they will take us on a field trip precisely to Salem? Not to mention that Ms Harkness doesn't seem like the kind of teacher who wants to take her students on trips. "

"So?" you asked. You knew exactly what he was implying, but you decided to play innocent "Maybe the universe thought it would be a good time to pay me what it owes me"

"Suuuuure. And Ms Harkness totally wasn't looking at you during the entire announcement" He said

"She wasn't" you agreed, making him roll his eyes.

Except that she totally was. Nick was right. From the moment the older woman had walked into the classroom, you could feel her eyes fixed on you. At first you felt like you were in trouble, but when she started talking about the trip she and professor Maximoff had planned, a part of you (a small and somewhat selfish part) couldn't help but think that maybe she was doing it for you.

It was silly and you knew it, why would a woman like Agatha Harkness go to the trouble of planning a whole field trip, getting a hotel, food and transportation for almost 30 students, just so that you specifically could fulfill one of your dreams? Not to mention, there was no way she knew about it.

But the feeling that you were something special to her, even if it was only in your imagination, was enough for you.

You sighed "Nick, if you're still upset about the project, I'm sorry ok? But don't get me in your business with her"

"Hey! I didn't sleep all weekend to finish it, okay?" he defended himself "I didn't even go to the movies with Dalton, Y/N. Do you know what that means? I missed a date with him!" he pouted, making you laugh

"First of all, you had almost the entire month to do the project, you shouldn't have put it off until the last minute. Second, it wasn't even a date! You haven't been able to confess your feelings to Dalton in two years"

"So? At least I'm making progress with him, you've been drooling over our teacher since the first day of college and all you've done is have these tense discussions with her."

"Shhhhh" you shut him up "shout it out to everyone, would you?"

"Hey, you started"

"It's different and you know it Nick" you sighed "You're only a year older than Dalton. There are at least 10 years between me and Ms Harkness, not to mention that she is our teacher!"

"Pfff, 10 years? Come on Y/N, we both know she's probably twice your age" Nick scoffed

"She's not that old" you blushed "And that's not the point anyway"

"Right" he nodded "the point is that your girlfriend is going to take us all to a haunted town just to make you happy" he smirked.

"My what- she’s not-" you stuttered.

Nick laughed and you flushed with both embarrassment and anger. You ran after him to try to hit him, not noticing the pair of blue eyes staring at you from a window.

________

Agatha sighed to herself as she watched you walk away with that little friend of yours. She had watched all the interaction and when she saw you blush she wished she could listen, but you were too far away.

However, what she did hear were your screams of excitement and she couldn't help but notice that her heart leapt a little at the thought that it was she who had made you so happy.

Again, she would never tell anyone, but the only reason she had agreed to accompany Wanda was because of the conversation she had overheard, when you told Nicholas that you didn't have money for two trips.

At first, it had been easy to lie to herself, saying that she was simply killing two birds with one stone: Wanda could have her field trip and you could visit Salem at no expense, that way you could save up to go elsewhere in summer.

However, when Wanda asked why she had specifically chosen your class, she hadn't known what to answer. She wanted to see you happy, she felt you deserved everything in the world, but she couldn't say that to the redhead, so she had given a bad excuse that your group was the least problematic. Wanda hadn't believed it, but at least she had the decency not to comment on anything.

She told herself that she had to be more careful. She couldn’t let anyone, student or teacher, find out that perhaps it was no longer simple affection what she felt for you.

When she walked into your classroom, however, she couldn't help staring at you from the get-go. She didn't want to miss your reaction to the news. From the sparkle in your eyes, the way the corner of your mouth lifted, how your nose wrinkled, the way your shoulders tensed, and how you clenched your hands to avoid showing your emotion.

She wanted to see all of that.

But that had made her look at you the whole time. She never once had she taken her eyes off you, almost forgetting that it was supposed to be a school trip, for all of her students, not a surprise gift specifically for you.

Even if that's what it really was. As she had told Wanda, she was more than capable of teaching Salem's history without having to take you there, but she did it for you. And a small part of her wanted to tell you, she wanted you to know what she had done, she wanted you to understand how much you meant to her, without having to use her words.

She wasn't sure if she'd made it, but your excitement was enough for her. She just wished she could be the one receiving that crushing hug, instead of Nicholas.

"Earth to Agatha" said a voice behind her, making her jump

"Maximoff" she sighed "No one told you it's rude to approach people like this" she crossed her arms and frowned.

"In my defense, I've been here for about 15 minutes, it's not my fault that you get lost in your thoughts so quickly" the redhead teased as she handed her a coffee "It must be age"

"I'm going to ignore the fact that you called me old, just because of the coffee" the brunette growled, taking it.

"Lucky me" the youngest smiled "So, ready for the trip?" she asked

"There's still a whole month to go, cutie" she said

"Don't even remind me, I was hoping they'd let us go sooner" sighed the redhead.

"Wanda, I know they are university students, but not all of them have the income, no matter how little the school charges them. We have to pay for transportation, meals and hotel, not to mention that many of them will want to buy souvenirs or do another activities" Agatha reminded her

"It's a field trip, Aggs, not a vacation."

"Try to convince 30 students of that" scoffed the older woman

"... fair enough" sighed Wanda "and we still need another chaperone"

"What do you mean?" Agatha frowned "Isn't that why I'm going?"

"Yes, but as we also take male students, by law we must bring a male teacher too"

"That’s bullshit"

"I know, but I'm not going to complain and risk losing my permit."

The brunette thought about it for a moment before sighing. Wanda was right. And she wouldn't risk having the trip canceled either, not after seeing how happy it made you.

___________

It was the longest month of your life! You were too excited, you could hardly think of anything other than the trip. You had worried a bit that it was too expensive, but were pleasantly surprised when you realized that it was less than half of what the trip would cost you alone.

Besides, Nick had told you that he could lend you money if necessary. It wasn't that you were broke, far from it, but being a college student, living alone in a rental department and with a part-time job, was difficult.

However, you had managed to save enough money to pay for the trip and still be able to even spend a little on souvenirs or other things, which would be necessary to thank your boss for giving you permission to be absent for two weeks and your friend Alisha for covering you.

"Hello" you smiled at the secretary

"Good afternoon" she replied, a little serious but at least she smiled back at you "can I help you miss?"

"Yeah, uhm, I'm here to pay for the trip to Salem, group 203" you said

"One moment please" she nodded and pulled out a couple of lists "Your name, queen?" she asked kindly

"Y/N Y/L/N"

The woman scanned the names with her eyes, searching for the letter of your last name, but you felt your stomach drop a little when she frowned before looking at you.

"Are you sure, dear?" she asked

You blinked in surprise before nodding.

"How strange" she said "it appears that it is already paid"

"W-what?" now you frowned "It must be a mistake"

"No, Y/N Y/L/N, paid. Are you sure you didn't forget? It usually happens" she assured you, smiling at you.

But you knew that was not the case. You hadn't paid before because you didn't have the money. Damn, you were sure you were the last to pay! You were supposed to leave in three days!

"No" you said softly "I'm sure I didn't pay for it"

The woman was about to say something when you heard a rather familiar pair of heels coming up behind you. You didn't even have to turn around to find out who she was.

Agatha smiled as she stood right next to you, her hand pressed to your lower back. She smiled at the secretary before speaking.

"Good afternoon, Lu" she said to the woman

"Good afternoon, Ms Harkness"

"Is something wrong? Or why the long face, Miss Y/L/N?" she asked, smiling at you

It took you a moment to answer, too stunned by the warm touch of her hand on your back and the smell of her perfume filling your air.

"Someone paid for my trip" you said simply

"Excuse me?" she asked confused

"Someone paid for my trip" you repeated "it wasn't me, miss"

"Well, I still don't see the problem" she smiled at you "maybe that little friend of yours paid for you, or someone is trying to win your heart" she winked

The way she said the last part sent a chill down your spine. It felt too intimate for some reason.

"Either way, I wouldn't worry about it" she said, pulling you out of your thoughts "take advantage of it, Miss Y/L/N, not all of us are lucky enough to be given a free trip, right Lu?"

"Absolutely Ms Harkness"

You weren't so convinced, but you weren't in a position to argue with a teacher and a secretary, they were two against one. That and the hand on your back was too much of a distraction to think properly.

You nodded and thanked them before turning on your heel to go find Nick, hoping it was really him who paid for you. You immediately missed the warmth of the hand on your back.

____________

Well shit.

You cursed yourself while running around your apartment. You were sure you had set the alarm, but it hadn't gone on. If it weren't for the fact that you had left the window open and the sun hit you in the face, you wouldn’t have woken up.

When you looked at the clock on your desk, you jumped up. You noticed that your phone had not charged at all and was, in fact, turned off. Double shit.

You tossed it along with the charger in your backpack, after getting out of a quick shower and bouncing around the room as you put on your floral dress and a pair of tennis shoes. You did not care about the mess you left, you would fix it when you returned.

You had 20 minutes to get to school or you were saying goodbye to Salem.

_____________

Agatha tried to appear neutral as Wanda took roll and Jimmy helped the students put their bags onto the bus as they arrived.

She supposed it could have been worse. Of all the male teachers in the school, Jimmy Woo, the chemistry teacher, was the most educated and one of the few that Agatha actually liked a little. At least the students listened to him.

Not that she was really paying attention to that, if she was honest.

Actually, the only thing on her mind was you. Nothing new, but this was different. You hadn't arrived yet and they were 15 minutes away from leaving. She was beginning to worry.

She didn't understand what was happening, you were the most excited about the trip, she had paid for you, and yet you weren't here? She had thought you would be the first to arrive. Have you regretted it? No, you would have told her or Wanda. Something happened to you? Surely Nicholas would have said something when he arrived.

So why was there no sign of your precious face? The brunette could convince Wanda to wait for you a little longer, but she wasn't even sure you were going to come. That made her sulk quickly.

She had agreed to take this trip, for you. If you didn't show up, she would have done everything in vain! She didn't even want to go to Salem to babysit! So you had better arrive in the next 10 minutes or you would be in serious trouble when they come back in two weeks.

"Smile Harkness" Wanda laughed, seeing her partner with her arms crossed and a frown "We're almost gone"

"Good, because we still have five hours of travel and I'm already starting to get tired of the voices of these children" she growled.

She really did hope her concern wasn't so noticeable.

____________

You sighed in relief when the taxi finally arrived at the school, seeing that the bus was still there. You did it!

You walked quickly, smiling at Professor Woo, who kindly put your suitcase on the underside of the truck.

"We were waiting for you, miss Y/L/N" he said kindly, helping you up the steps.

"Oh no, am I the last one?" you asked, blushing with shame.

"That's right" said Professor Maximoff, smiling at you as you went upstairs.

Well, at least no one had noticed. The rest of your classmates were all talking to each other, laughing and some flirting, not paying attention to the fact that you had just arrived. Excellent.

Except ... oh no.

You looked for Nick, to go sit with him. Sadly, it looks like Dalton was ahead of you and your best friend was too busy flirting to have saved you a spot.

"Take a seat please Y/N" Wanda told you

"Uhm ... where?" you asked, pointing to your companions.

The red-haired woman followed your gaze and realized that you were right. All the seats were taken. That made her frown. They were supposed to have all seats counted, so she, Jimmy, and Agatha had taken the liberty of using two seats each. But it seems they had miscounted.

"Well, I suppose you will have to sit with one of us" she told you.

You nodded, but didn't move, not knowing exactly which of the three to sit next to.

Fortunately for you, you didn't have to make the decision.

Agatha had kept a sigh of relief from escaping her lips when she saw you and Jimmy getting on the bus. She had been biting her nails nervously.

Your choice of clothes had not gone unnoticed and she, taking care that neither Wanda nor Jimmy caught her, let her eyes roam your body. The dress fit too well on you, hugging all the right parts, and ended just above the knees, allowing her to observe your beautiful legs.

She was so busy scanning you with her gaze that she almost missed Wanda's comment. "I suppose you will have to sit down with one of us." Her reaction was almost automatic.

She got up and motioned for you to sit in the window seat. "Take a seat, miss Y/L/N" she said, a little anxious, but with a frown so that the others would think that she was simply desperate to leave.

You blinked before nodding and scooting into the seat. You tried not to show any emotion when the older woman sat next to you and her thigh brushed yours.

You didn't know if you wanted to curse Nick for abandoning you in favor of flirting, or if you wanted to kiss him. You had five hours to think about it from here to Salem.

Wait. Five hours. Five hours trapped between Agatha Harkness and the window and without the possibility of distracting yourself with your cell phone. Oh shit.

___________

"It's not as bad as I thought" said Wanda "You were right Aggs, it's the least troublesome group" she laughed

The older woman rolled her eyes without answering. Her friend was right, most of the students were behaving quite well. There was no excessive yelling, no one was getting up from their seats or causing trouble, everyone seemed more interested in catching up on gossip.

But that didn't mean she liked being there. Her head was already spinning and there were still another three hours to go. The only good thing she had was that you were next to her.

Sure, she had to act nonchalant with you, just trying to get you talking a few times (which didn't work, but at least you had smiled at her and that was enough for her), but she couldn't help stealing glances from you every now and then.

She had given you the place by the window with the excuse that she needed to be in the hallway so she could throw death glares at others and make sure everything was in order, but the truth was, she just wanted you to be able to see everything. So that you don't miss even the entrance to the town.

It had worked for a while, because you looked quite entertained. Until that moment.

When the brunette looked at you sideways, she could see that your eyelids seemed to weigh and how you were starting to nod. Agatha had to admit that a sleepy Y/N was probably the cutest thing she had seen in a long time.

You struggled to stay awake, but after two hours of staring out the window (you were definitely not looking at your teacher through the reflection, thank you very much) your eyes felt tired. Maybe, you could sleep for a while, and hopefully when you woke up, you would be arriving in Salem and you wouldn't have to deal with the blush on your cheeks caused by the mere presence of your crush by your side.

It seemed like a good plan.

Sighing and careful not to kick the older woman, you settled into the seat better, closing your eyes and blocking out the noise around you. It didn't take you long to fall asleep.

Agatha knew the exact moment you had been lost from the world of the living, when your head began to tilt a little. She inwardly cursed you for being so cute.

However, she froze when she realized that little by little, you were sticking closer to her.

At first it was just your head leaning in her direction, but then you were leaning on her shoulder. It wasn't an entirely unpleasant feeling (actually, it was perfect), but it did make her pulse race, especially when you kept falling more and more on her, until you ended up with your head on her chest and basically using her breasts as a pillow.

"Ok, okay, don't panic, everything is fine" she thought "act normal, you are a teacher taking care of her student, nothing to see here"

But she could feel her heart racing at a thousand kilometers per hour and as much as she didn't want to wake you up, she doubted you couldn't hear it, you had your hearing just above it!

She was too busy trying not to move, not to bother you, that she didn't notice the knowing looks and smiles that her two colleagues shared.

When Wanda stood up to supervise the students in the background, she raised an eyebrow, smirking at Agatha. The older woman rolled her eyes and mumbled something about not wanting to wake you up out of mere politeness, but the truth was that her arms burned with the need to hold you and pull you closer to her.

____________

Wanda giggled and motioned for Jimmy to take a look at Agatha's seat. When the man did, he had to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud.

At some point during the trip, the brunette had fallen asleep too, probably bored of not moving so as not to wake you up. However, it seemed like her precautions weren't working on autopilot, because the moment she fell asleep, she leaned on you, portraying a cute scene with you on the older woman's chest and Agatha's head on top of yours.

Wanda took out her cell phone and quickly took a photo of you two.

"This is gold" she whispered to Jimmy "this is valuable blackmail material, Harkness will have to do what I ask for at least a month"

"I guess I owe you 10 dollars" said the man.

When they were discussing the details of the trip, the redhead had told him her theory about how the brunette felt about you. Surprisingly, Jimmy hadn't been shocked, he didn't think the other woman had a crush on her student, but he wouldn't look down on Agatha if that was the case. They had both gambled on how long it would take for the woman to start being more obvious.

"And a coffee when we get to Salem" Wanda reminded him.

_____________

Agatha woke up when a particularly loud sound from the movie they were playing in the bus sounded from the speaker above her head. The woman blinked several times, before looking around her.

Jimmy seemed absorbed in the movie and Wanda was asleep. And God knew what the students were doing behind her.

But that was not the important thing. What mattered was the bulge in her arms.

Your hair had fallen over your face, so the older woman gently brushed it away, letting her fingers brush against your skin. You were a beautiful sight. You always were, sure, but just like that, asleep and vulnerable, you were just breathtaking.

Looking at the clock, Agatha knew that they were about to arrive in town, and although she didn't want to wake you up, really enjoying having you like this, she also wanted you to see everything. So she gently started shaking you to wake you up.

You groaned a bit at the annoyance, but in a few more moments your eyes began to open. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the light, but when they did, you frowned.

Why were you so low? You remembered falling asleep almost glued to the window, so why weren't you there? And why did you have a pillow? You hadn't brought a pillow with you.

It wasn't until you caught a familiar scent that you realized you weren't on a pillow. You were on top of your teacher. More specifically, on her chest. Shit.

You got up quickly, muttering an apology and trying desperately not to look at her. You just used Agatha Harkness as a pillow! What an idiot! She sure hates you now.

The older woman was a bit surprised when you jumped up, almost hitting her in the process. If it wasn't because you looked adorable with a red face, she would have tried to comfort you. Besides, she couldn't risk any of her colleagues finding out about her feelings for you.

So she didn't say anything, as if nothing had happened. But she was loving the nervous version of you more and more.

_______________

When you entered the city, you completely forgot the whole incident. Your mind quickly entertained with the landscape and you could see how all those witch tales came to life in front of your eyes. Definitely better than Disneyland.

Agatha couldn't help the pang of pride she felt when she saw your excited face. It was a good choice to sit you by the window. If anyone deserved to have the best possible experience in Salem, it was you.

She just hoped the rest of the trip would go without incidents. Not that she thought falling asleep on her was a bad thing, it was just that she trusted herself less and less to keep herself under control.

- - - - - - - - - - -

tags: @midnight-lestrange @everythingmarvelsherlockspn (tag not working) @amethyst-bitch @juliejules-089 @powerfulmagicalgirl (tag not working) @novohyde @annie-mit-ie @agentbrownierso

#x reader #reader insert #imagine #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness imagine #agatha harkness x y/n #agatha harkness x you #agnes x reader #request #must be the eyes #please tell me if i did the tag list thing right #;-;

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shivada-jade · 3 years

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modern!au/idol!au

characters: aether, lumine mentions: venti, xiao, kazuha, barbara, azhdaha warning(s): swearing because lumine and aether are siblings

notes: i've been lACKING these idol au's so im gonna write more idol au's because i nEEED it

You were seven when you were introduced to the twins. Coming from a foreign land, you struggled with the language they spoke in, but they were patient with you and taught you their language and much more. The twins were multilingual and explained it was from their frequent traveling and relatives from different places.

You and the twins were close, but Lumine spent more time with you, making Aether whine a lot. He would always poke sticks at you and hide your legendary, full art Pokemon cards to catch both Lumine's and your attention. It does work, but Lumine's mad.

"Aether!" She'd scream with a lisp because of a missing tooth. "Stop doing that!"

Oh, but Aether is a sibling, meaning he'd play the 'innocent' card. "Stop doing what? What am I doing?"

In the end, you'd always have to call their parents when they fist fight at the sand pit. "Aether and Lumine's mom! They're fighting again!"

"Again?" The tall blonde sighed. "Thanks for telling me, hon."

After a good scolding, Aether and Lumine would be totally okay the next minute like nothing happened. You were used to their banter and rightfully took your Pokemon cards back. Lumine stuck a tongue out, blowing a raspberry at Aether when he turned his back, grabbing three large sticks.

"Fight me!" He cried with glee, giving one stick to his sister and one to you. "I will be the grand king of the sand pit!"

You vaguely remember the rest. Maybe you lost the 'sword duel,' or maybe you didn't, but what you did remember was this tall kid playing with his cat and eating the sand. Forget the kid, the only thing you remember is his cat's name called Azhdaha.

Your hands close your story book. You would never admit to your friends, but Lumine and Aether that you still read fantasy. The other kids in the neighbourhood would laugh saying what you were reading is a kid's story.

"So what if it's a kid's story? If you like it, read it," Lumine says aggressively while Aether opens the door for both of you.

"Lumi's right. They think they're all grown up, but they're kids too," he closes the door behind him, waving goodbye to your grandma rocking on the porch. "What's the story about anyway?"

You walk ahead, leading the two to a local mall. Every week, Aether, Lumine and yourself would spend Fridays and Saturdays together.

You and Lumine often joke how Aether doesn't do 'Saturdays are for the boys.' To which, Aether would scoff and reply with, "Boys who say that are stupid, not all but most. Saturdays are for spending time with people you care about. I don't care if they think I'm weak."

You step foot in the bus, tapping the card to pay for your admission. The twins, walk behind, doing the same and sitting next to you on the bus.

"It's called 'Songs of a Siren.' It's cool, you should check it out." You say, scooting a bit closer to the side so Lumine could have more pace to sit. The bus is packed. Teenagers littered inside, only a few adults were there including the bus driver. "Let's leave. Teenagers stink."

"...But you are one."

"Well-"

After the next stop, you push yourself through the crowd, trying to exit. Lumine pushes people, muttering a few 'excuse us' while dragging her brother. Your feet land on the concrete sidewalk and you finally breathe freely.

You see the twins finally get off the bus and tilt your head, "Let's go, the mall isn't gonna wait for us."

Entering the mall, the first thing you pass by is a clothes shop. You and Aether share a look, quietly doing rock-paper-scissors behind Lumine who's beaming to go inside.

Rock.

Aether chooses paper.

You droop to the floor because you're dramatic, knowing that once you go in the shop, you'll be the one carrying Lumine's purchases.

"Alright, Lumine," you say sighing. "Let's go shop."

You see Aether in your peripheral vision, pumping his fist laughing a quiet, "Yes!" when Lumine takes out her wallet.

"I know you did rock-paper-scissors." She counts the bills from her wallet, "But I'm buying for Aether which means even if you carry the things I buy, Aether's gonna have it much worse because he will be trying on everything I tell him to wear." She grins, settling with a black debit card.

After hearing this, Aether tries to walk in another shop to avoid dressing up for Lumine, but his sister quickly catches on and pulls him by the ear and walks in the clothes shop.

"Let's go!" She says to you, "These clothes won't shop themselves!"

...

"This one?"

"No, you look like grandpa in that outfit."

"Well what if I like looking like grandpa, huh? What are you gonna do about it?"

"Some people can pull off the sexy grandpa look. You're not 'some people.'" Lumine pulls out another outfit from the rack. "Try this one," she laughs, seeing Aether's horrified face and pushes him in the dressing area.

This is the ninth clothes shop you three go to, and you were starting to feel bad for Aether who had to wear every outfit Lumine wanted him to wear.

"Lumi," you say calmly, having trouble holding five shopping bags on each arm. She's on a shopping spree and you wonder how she gets all the money to buy these things. "That should be enough shopping for the day. I'm hungry."

The blonde lifts a hand. "Hold on a second," she smiles before banging on the changeroom door, "AETHER LET ME SEE THE FIT."

You can hear the loud sigh from the other side of the door as it slowly opens. He only peeks his head out, shyly mumbling, "This is embarrassing. I don't want to walk out like this."

Lumine rolls her eyes and pulls the door open, revealing Aether in a white dress shirt and dark pants.

Aether lifts an arm, inspecting the design. "It's a bit..." he pauses, thinking of a way to not offend his sister. "It's not my style." His eyes seek for your help to back him up, but you couldn't. The style on him looks so ethereal to him, and Lumine has the same idea.

His twin ran up to an aisle and picked out two accessories: a silk cloth and a floral pin. Lumine shushes Aether who tried to punch her.

"Shut up Aether, you'll look great." She pins the black rose onto the front of his shirt and ties the silk cloth around his neck. She steps a few steps back, making a rectangle shape to symbolize a picture frame and elbows you lightly. "He looks okay for once."

Okay is underwhelming, but to describe Aether better, he looks celestial. The warm studio lights hug every angle of Aether from head to toe. His golden eyes seem to brighten more and the outfit only accentuates his physical traits more.

From the corner of your eye you spot a tall-ish man who has been wandering past the same aisle but never picking anything up. He wears ordinary clothes- a T-shirt and jeans (rather stylishly), but you know from his incoming aura he's more than just an ordinary person.

You tap Lumine discreetly while still holding onto her shopping bags and tilt your head towards the man.

Aether, who keeps picking on the cloth around his neck goes frigid when the strange man walks up to him.

"Hey kid," he says cooly. He looks Aether up and down, lifting his shades to see clearer, and pulls out a small business card from his pocket. "You look like idol material. Ever thought about being a part of a boyband?"

Out of politeness, Aether takes the card and laughs nervously, "Not really" He looks at Lumine and you for help, but you two pretend to not know him when he turns to you.

The man shoves his hands in his pocket, blowing a bubblegum and popping it. His hair slightly tousles when he turns, waving a hand.

"If you ever do decide if you wanna be an idol, auditions are held next week at 10AM," he saunters off. "If they ask who recruited you, tell them a man by the name of Valentin did."

His lavender irises looks back once more before leaving the store, "The people from Teyvat Entertainment are introduced by my very hands. Don't disappoint me."

The automatic sliding doors open for him and he waves the store greeter a goodbye.

You see Aether's eyes scanning over he card Valentin gave. His lashes flutter quickly, signaling you and Lumine he was either shocked, or confused.

Lumine grabbed the paper, a habit she picked up due to being a twin and having to share everything with Aether who won't share. Her lips part, showing the card to you.

Teyvat Entertainment.

A company who created the world's famous DCKZ and the idol, Barbara. Teyvat Ent. has one of the youngest, top rookies of the year because of a group called TVT Dream. A company with many celebrities' and the business card is legit.

A store worker no older than your age meekly walks up to the three of you and asks, "Hey, uh. Are you ready to purchase your clothes?"

...

Aether shoves Lumine (don't worry she shoves him 10x harder) on the stairs while you watch from a safe distance.

You wave hello to their mom before waltzing into their home like you did many other times. You were their third child in their mom's eyes.

You slam the twins' room open and lay yourself on the bottom bunk of their bunkbed. "So do you wanna check Teyvat Entertainment?"

You fish out your phone from your pocket and hand signal for Aether and Lumine to come close to see. Your phone turns on, showing the lock screen of the twins in their embarrassing toddler moments then unlock it. Quietly laughing at the twins who have their faces beet red from the photograph.

"Why do you have that pic? DELETE IT."

"Did mom give that to you..."

You ignore them, opening up Google and typing in the Teyvat Ent. website and search their contacts. You ask Aether for the business card, comparing the two numbers side by side, and Valentin is indeed one of the scouts for the company.

You shut your phone off, hugging the two siblings together tightly. "Whether Aether decides he wants to be an idol or not, we'll still be the best of friends."

Lumine grins, squishing your cheeks, taking a closer look at you. "Well, duh. Are you scared we'll fall apart? No, if anything you should be scared we're never going to leave you alone even if you're 60 and married."

You pinch her cheeks and start to say something until you hear sniffles and coughing. You turn to Aether who was hiding his tears.

"Shut up, I'm not crying." He harshly wipes away the water falling from his eyes, "When I go famous, I'm going to give you my autograph so you can sell it and eventually get 20 cars and houses."

...

You were a teen when the dark-haired Valentin scouted Aether to be a trainee in Teyvat Ent.

You note that without Aether, their home is extremely quiet. It's odd not seeing Lumine scream at Aether for taking her hair clips. It's odd not seeing Lumine aggressively pull on the colourful flower hairclips on Aether's hair, just to get the clips back. It's so odd not seeing Aether is general.

Lumine scrolls through her phone, looking for furniture to add to her new apartment she shares with you. The only thing in the newly bought apartment is three mattresses, three plates, and three cups, just in case Aether visits. Though, Aether visiting is rare. His visits only happen during December for Christmas, but even then he had not visited. It's been two years since you and Lumine last saw him.

You stare at your last sent messages to the blonde boy.

▶ hEY. (threatening)

▶ take care okay? lumine's worrying all the time for ur health bc she keeps watching yt vids on how idols over-do themselves from training

haha thanks for telling me

are you sure it's not you who's worrying 🧐🤧

the last thing lumi sent to me was "FUCK YOU"

▶ well the last thing you sent to her was "U BUTT"

▶ and she took that seriously

are you siding with her?

▶ yes

oh okay, frick you too seen three months ago

Your feet pad against the wooden tiles, grabbing a glass of water while scrolling through twitter. You lift the glass to your lips and almost choke from the water you drink.

You click the link on the phone with the title "Debuting boy band already claiming the hearts of many! Please welcome 4nemo!" Four boys stand in the picture, one being Aether.

You place your glass to the sink and run to Lumine, sitting next to her and who her your phone. She reads it over and visibly shakes. You swear she was about to cry until she takes the phone from your hand and starts throwing it, "AETHER THAT BITCH. HE DEBUTES AND SAYS NOTHING."

You're mortified and pull your friend away from your phone, "THAT'S A NEW PHONE, STOP." You push her away and run to your device, clicking on the link.

"One, two, three! Hello we are," Aether, the familiar blonde says.

His group members follow after him. "4nemo!" They say in chorus. One by one they start introducing themselves.

"Hi I'm Aether!"

"Kazuha," one says with a raise of a hand.

An energetic member steps up with a grin, "And I'm Barbisabeto!"

"He's Barbatos, forgive him." Teal undertones make it's way to the camera, "Hello, I'm Xiao.

The one with twin braids step up, mischievously grinning. "Please take care of us and support us during our journey through the music industry."

His teal eyes squint behind the camera, whispering to the member behind him. "Psst, Xiao. I can't read I'm blind."

Xiao rolls his eyes and steps up, slightly bowing, "Please support our debuting group, we will see you in our music videos."

But Lumine and you never paid attention to what they were saying. Both of you just started crying insults of endearment to Aether because he looks so... different. His face had mature and he's a real idol now.

Reality sinks in.

Now that Aether had a growing fanbase, it's going to be harder to contact him.

"Lumine, how are we going to talk to him now?"

Lumine ponders a bit, resting her chin on her hand before smirking. "Let's create an Aether hate page."

"Yes, let's do it."

After a quick recording of Lumine and yourself, you posted the video online, and soon enough, it goes viral.

Lumine laughs, replaying the video.

"This one's for the boys with the booming system," You say monotonously in front of the camera like what you said was a speech instead of a song. "Top down, AC with the cooler system."

Lumine comes on screen, flipping her middle finger at the camera. "When he come up in the club, he be blazin' up. This one is actually not for the boys with the booming system. This is for the BITCH, AETHER WITH THE BLONDE BRAID. Look at you with your ugly ass smile," She speaks in one breath and it amazes you. "Make sure you get millions of hits or it's all for nothing. Oh Aether's an ass."

The screen shows your hand scooping the phone up and waving good bye with Lumine still dissing Aether.

You nudge Lumine, showing a comment written at the bottom of the video, covering a laugh.

"who's aether?"

"huh??! aether?"

"lOL Why Does The Person On The Left Look Like Aether?"

"OH 4NEMO DABUTE. SHUTUP YOU ANTI. THEY'RE GORGEOUS. YOU'RE THE ONE UFLY" ➡ "ahisfdh you obvi didnt watch the whole video. she said "make sure get millions of hits"

Lumine grins, commenting at the people calling her ugly and Aether way better looking. "Lol, IKR. the one on the left is trying too hard to look like Aether. it's like shes tryna be a twin or smthn"

Though, because of your viral "hate" video, 4nemo's popularity sky rockets because of the unknown 'Aether' of the group.

...

Aether watches the video on the news channel, because that's how popular the video got. He looks at his manager, "Can I send a hate video back?"

"Aether, no."

But the winds are troublesome as the ocean, because a boy with teal tips on his hair snatched the managers phone, running and giving it to Aether. "AETHER. DO IT RIGHT NOW."

...

It was a shock to you seeing people follow your twitter account.

"LUMI, [NAME], IM SRRY I LOST MY PHONE AND DIDNT WANNA TELL ANY1 OR THEYLL GROUND ME," said the tweet, tagging you in comments.

Lumine doesn't have twitter, so when she looks over your shoulder seeing the tweet with her name on, she grabs the phone and locks herself in the bathroom, "R U FR AETHER?U DIDNT REPLY TO MY HAPPY BDAY. WE SHARE A BDAY DUMBASS"

She calmly unlocks the door, giving your phone back casually while you whine, "Lumine! This is twitter! They're gonna cancel me!"

"I'll cancel them back."

Ding! You receive a post with you name under the comments again.

hello, i have to apologize for our member stealing the manager's phone to tweet that. i swear that kid's the most responsible, but he's been triggered. #kazuha

You quickly type back, under the hashtag 'kazuha.'

"@/4nemo sorry uh thats one of ur members twin & shes mad that aether never gave her a bday present when she gave 1 to him #kazuha"

notes: psst here's where i got aether's outfit inspo when they were outfit changing at the mall

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #4nemo #aether x reader #lumine #aether #lumine x reader #genshin fanfic

300 notes · View notes

localgenius · 3 years

Text

The Romance of the Pear

Sorry I’ve been mia for the last couple of months! I’ve just finished high school so that has been taking up most of my focus, but in the meantime I’ve been working on this! I don’t really know what it is tbh, but I’ve enjoyed writing it and I hope that you’ll enjoy reading it!

A story about Spencer being in love with the reader, and the reader being in love with Spencer

tw: mentions of rape, murder, horrific actions towards women, swearing

Spencer Reid x fem!reader (13.2k) (the app might crash, so it can be an idea to read on a browser!)

The sky outside of the windows was painted a gloomy grey, raindrops falling and hitting the glass of the windows, making them the only noise in the otherwise quiet office.

Y/N was sitting at her desk, her hand fiddling idly with one of her pens as she read over one of the cases she was designated to counsel on. The knitted cardigan around her shoulder helped her to not feel the impending chill from the poor weather, and her feet had abandoned the heels and had found purchase under her body on her chair.

“Good morning sunshine,” a voice pulled her eyes away from the details of horrific killings of prostitutes in the case files.

“Morning Emily,” she smiled back, feeling her mood brighten just the slightest.

“Why are you in so early on a Monday?” Emily asked as she dropped her things down by her already cluttered desk, before she made her way over to take a seat on the edge of Y/N’s desk.

“Oh, I had to talk with Knightly down at sex crimes about this case,” she pointed down at the open case file, not protesting when Emily moved to lift it up to have a look. “And he’s going to Texas at nine, so I had to come in earlier.”

“He carves hearts into their chests?” Emily asked with disgust in her voice after she placed the file back down on the desk.

“Yeah,” Y/N dragged out the word, as she leaned forward to rest her face in her hands. “But not before he rapes and sexually mutilates them. Charming fella.”

“Sounds like a real prince charming,” Emily laughed before she moved to the kitchenette.

“Good morning Prentiss, Y/L/N,” a third voice entered the conversation as Hotch made his way through the glass double doors, rain droplets decking his coat, in a way that reminded Y/N of the way flower petals looked after a storm.

“Morning sir,” Y/N smiled at him and watched him close himself into his office for the day.

“Why hearts though,” Emily said as she came back to reclaim her spot on the edge of the desk.

“I really don’t know,” Y/N grumbled while she leaned back in her chair, “there’s the obvious correlation with love, but the way he treats them screams anything but love and affection. So, my guess is that it has something to do with the view of prostitutes and sex. You know, maybe he believes that sex is a sin, and the only right way to have sex is in marriage, and these prostitutes just throw out their love every time they’re with a new john. But I’m honestly as lost as you are.”

“That’s a good theory,” Emily bounced back, “many people do call it ‘making love’, so if the unsub thinks that the prostitutes are just selling their bodies without a care about love, he might do it to symbolize the love that they could never have.”

“Right,” Y/N was quick to scribble it down on the page as a possible motive for the signature, “thanks Em.”

“Did you know that the shape of the symbolic heart as we know it today originated in the bottom corner of a manuscript called ‘The Romance of Alexander’ dated around 1340?” a voice spoke behind them, as it moved across the room.

“Good morning Spencer,” both Y/N and Emily said, Y/N’s eyes still locked on the file she was scribbling in. “And no, I didn’t know that” Y/N said when she was done writing, letting her eyes meet his across the divider between their desks, as Emily scurried back to her own desk to avoid being a part of the incoming info dump.

“Yeah, and the first illustration of the amorous heart was in 1250 in a picture called ‘The Romance of the Pear’, where a pear, eggplant or pinecone, there is some debate, is an allegory for the heart,” he continued as he dropped his satchel by his desk and sat in his chair before turning on his monitor.

“A pear?” Y/N asked softly, letting her fingers start to mess with the pen again.

“Hm,” Spencer continued, his honey eyes meeting hers. “In western culture the pear is also a symbol of female erotic.”

“Ooh,” Derek’s voice interrupted the quiet moment, breaking the sweet gaze between the two profilers. “Female erotic, my field of expertise.”

“Jesus,” Y/N laughed and turned away from Spencer to face Derek as he draped his jacket over the back of his swirly chair. “Have you just dropped chivalry all together now, or what?”

“What?” Derek asked, as Emily joined in Y/N’s laughter, “I’m just being honest. What are you and pretty boy doing speaking about female erotic at 8:30 on a Monday morning anyway?”

“I was just telling Y/N the symbolism of pears,” Spencer said, not removing his eyes from the monitor, where he was checking his emails against his will.

A smile tugged on Y/N’s lips when she remembered him coming back from being called to Hotch’s office and telling her that he was being forced to get an email account by the bureau. Both Y/N and Penelope had helped him set it up, and he had countless times sheepishly asked Y/N to help him write out a reply.

“Ah yes,” Derek teased as he took a seat in his chair, “symbolism of pears. Just a regular conversation topic on this gloomy Monday morning.”

“I don’t even want to know how on earth you got around to that topic,” Rossi added when he came walking past the clutter of desks.

“It was just-“ Y/N started to explain the obscure conversation topic as Rossi moved up the short flight of stairs.

“No! Don’t wanna hear it,” Rossi called back as he closed his office door.

The four agents shared a look of amusement as they all started on their designated work for the day, the raindrops still trailing down the planes of glass of the windows.

After an hour of silence, only occasionally being interrupted by an agent coming or going or a phone call, Y/N felt herself becoming more and more disheartened by the case on her desk. After having worked at the BAU for approximately a year now, she would have thought that she would have gotten used to the evil the team faced on a daily basis. But something about this guy, ruthlessly raping and killing innocent women, hit her a bit different than she had anticipated.

Letting her feet down from her chair she put them back in her shoes before walking over to the kitchenette to make herself a cup of tea as a comforting hug.

As she stood idly twirling the spoon around in the hot water while waiting for the sugar to dissolve, she heard the signature sound of heels thumping against the floor.

“Good morning my dear angel,” Penelope greeted cheerfully as she came in with her pink octopus mug. Penelope had seemingly decided to take it upon herself to be the sun on the gloomy day; her bright yellow dress making Y/N smile and momentarily forget the case that was patiently waiting for her back at her desk.

“Good morning Pen,” Y/N said and leaned against one of the cupboards as she watched Penelope make her daily green tea. “How was your weekend?”

“Oh, it was lovely,” she exclaimed as she poured hot water into the mug, “I babysat Henry which is always a blast, and then I went shopping and I found the cutest earrings in this small shop. I have to take you at some point!” Penelope said, letting her words come out a mile a minute, only making Y/N’s heart grow lighter.

“I would love that Pen,” Y/N said as they started to make their way back to Y/N’s desk.

“Morning baby girl,” Derek said as he swirled his chair to look at the two girls coming back.

“Morning chocolate thunder,” Penelope said as she perched herself on the edge of his desk. “What did my wonderful Captain America replica do this weekend?”

As the two of them lost themselves in their daily flirtations Y/N made her way back to her desk, only to find the dreaded file missing from its place. She looked around confused, before seeing the familiar pictures over on Spencer’s desk, where he was writing at lightning speed.

“Spence?” Y/N asked softly, but before she could continue, he closed the file and handed it back over to her. He simply gave her a quick, tight-lipped smile before he turned back to his own mountain of paperwork.

Slowly, not taking her eyes from the genius across from her, she opened the file, and saw how he had completed the file for her. His chicken scratches took over where her handwriting had stopped. The time pressure he had been under was clear in the simple short sentences he had scrawled down at the bottom.

Before she could exclaim her gratitude, a bimble came from Penelope’s cell phone and she let out a sad sigh before getting up from her seat on Derek’s desk.

“Duty calls avengers,” she said as she moved to Hotch’s office, while the others started to go to the briefing room.

Before Y/N could get up, Spencer had already bounced up the flight of stairs and was quickly making his way to the briefing room.

“We have an icky case on our hands this time, my dear crime fighters,” Penelope said as she stood by the screen, remote ready in her hand. “Last night, a civilian found a leg wrapped in garbage bags when she took out the trash in central Indianapolis. The leg belonged to Louise Obsen, a 28 year old accountant. The remaining parts of her body were found wrapped in a similar way, dumped in various dumpsters around the block.”

The silence stretched across the briefing room as everyone took in the gruesome details of the murder.

“The dismemberment could be a forensic countermeasure,” Spencer said as he glanced over the file, “it’s easier to hide parts of the body than a whole body.”

“Do we know how the unsub dismembered the bodies?” Emily asked as she flipped through the pictures.

“Yes,” Penelope said as she swallowed harshly as she pressed a button on the remote. “The coroner says the limbs were removed with a standard saw, nothing special. But all of this happened postmortem, the COD was a gunshot to the back of the head.”

“Execution style,” JJ mumbled, “is this the only victim?”

“No,” Hotch said, eyes focused on the case file, “two weeks ago the Indianapolis PD found a young woman, Emma Day, dismembered and discarded in the same way. She was 29”

Penelope clicked on her remote, but she kept her eyes looking straight ahead. Y/N noticed the clear look of discomfort in her eyes, and silently reached down under the conference table and gave her hand a gentle squeeze of comfort.

“They certainly look alike,” Derek chimed in as he looked at the two women on the screen. “Pretty girls with black hair in their late twenties; they’re probably surrogates for the unsubs' real target.”

“What did Emma do for a living Pen?” Y/N asked, her hand still wrapped around Penelope’s.

“She worked as a caretaker at a residential facility, by all accounts she was very well liked there. Both of them were, in fact.”

“Both low-risk victims,” Rossi pondered as he closed his file, “that means that he probably doesn’t appear as a threat.”

“Which makes him all the more dangerous,” Hotch said as he collected his files, “wheels up in 30.”

The plane ride was mostly silent after the team had gone over the case once more.

Y/N was sitting by the window, book laying open in her lap, but her mind was flying with the fluffy clouds outside of the window.

One of her hands was fiddling with the pendant of her necklace as she observed the way the ground was moving underneath the jet.

“Metamorphoses,” a gentle voice pulled her out from her reveries, and her eyes drifted away from the window to see Spencer take the seat across from her, holding a cup of strawberry tea out to her.

“Excuse me?” she asked softly, still a tad too lost in her own head to be able to catch up with him.

“Your book,” he said, gesturing to the book in her lap. “You’re reading Metamorphoses.”

“Oh yeah,” she laughed, moving to shut the book and rest it on the table in between them. “I uh,” she started as she straightened up in her seat, “I took a class in classics at university, and I found my notes a few weeks back, and I remembered how much I loved Ovid’s writing and his stories, so I went and bought it this weekend.”

“Which one is your favourite?” Spencer asked softly, taking a sip from his own mug, undoubtedly filled to the brim with a concussion of coffee and sugar.

“Do you promise you’re not going to judge me?” Y/N asked, as she teasingly raised her eyebrows as she also took a sip of her mug.

“I promise,” Spencer laughed incredulously, “I would never judge anyone who voluntarily reads Ovid.”

“Okay fair enough,” she said and let both of her hands wrap around the mug to get some heat into her hands. “It’s probably ‘Apollo and Daphne’, very unoriginal, I know.”

“No, no uh-,” Spencer was quick to sit up straighter and lean on over the table while I cleared his throat, “that one’s really good. I love it too actually.”

“You do?” Y/N asked, unconsciously leaning in closer to Spencer.

“Yeah,” he said breathlessly, “I find that there’s something beautiful in loving someone who will never love you back.”

“Beautiful?”

“Yeah, you see, it’s kind of like the oldest story known to man. Unrequited love. And I don’t know, I guess I just know the feeling. To love something that’s so far out of my reach,” he explained softly, letting his eyes fall to the coffee in his mug.

“Spencer,” Y/N mumbled softly, letting her hand creep closer to where he was gripping his mug tightly. “Nothing will ever-“

But before she could finish her sentence Emily popped up and interrupted the two of them.

“We’re landing in ten, Y/N you’re with me, we’re going to go to the different dumpsites.”

“Yeah, okay,” Y/N said breathlessly, as she watched Spencer quickly regain his posture and leaned back in his seat as he fastened his seatbelt, pretending that he hadn’t just shared something that would now be permanently engraved into Y/N’s brain.

“What were you and Reid talking about on the jet?”

The question pulled Y/N out of her thoughts as she was reading over the case fil once more before they arrived at the first dumpsite.

“Huh?”

Emily turned her head to quickly glance at the younger agent next to her, her sunglasses covering her mischievous eyes.

“On the jet,” she further went on, “you both looked like you were seconds away from imploding from feelings.”

“Oh,” Y/N laughed awkwardly, straightening up her back, trying to square up a bit unconsciously. “We were just talking about this book I’m reading. He just gave an interesting input on one of my favourite stories.”

“Really,” Emily teased, carefully driving into the parking space next to the alley.

“Yeah, just talking about books,” Y/N said as she jumped out of the SUV, shutting the heavy door behind her.

The gloomy weather had thankfully stayed behind in D.C., leaving the team to soak up the lovely spring sun that shined overhead in them in Indianapolis.

“What was that about unrequited love then?” Emily continued to press on as they walked over to the group of policemen standing by the dumpsters.

“It’s the theme of the story,” Y/N grumbled before swiftly putting on a smile as a young man headed towards them.

“You must be with the BAU,” the man started as he held out his hand for the two of them to shake.

“Yes, agents Prentiss and Y/L/N,” Emily said as she shook his hand, “Are you the lead detective on the case?”

“Yes, detective Michaels,” he said as he lifted the yellow police tape for the three of them to step under.

“Nice to meet you,” Y/N said softly smiling at him, while Emily softly laughed and shook her head to herself at the young agent when she saw Michaels already developing what the team had dubbed ‘Y/N eyes’.

One of the things that the team noticed when Y/N Y/L/N had joined the team was her extreme kindness. It challenged even Penelope’s something that they hadn’t thought was possible. When they all first had been introduced to each other Y/N had made sure to look at each individual team member like they were the sun, her attention focused solely on the profiler in question. On every case the team had worked Emily hadn’t once experienced Y/N kindly greet the detectives working on the case, and often gave them her sweet smile that made everyone melt in their spot – often resulting in them giving her ‘Y/N eyes’ the rest of the case.

Her kindness had especially seemed to do a trick on the resident genius of the BAU; a fact abundantly clear for all of the team members except for the two of them. While the remainder of the team never was rude or unkind to him, they never seemed to engage with him the same way she did. There was a willingness to hear him ramble on about the most obscure things, a gleam in both of their eyes when they would talk about their favourite books in hushed voices on the jet when they thought everyone else was asleep.

“How long had the leg been out here before it was found?” Emily asked, breaking the detective out of his gaze locked on Y/N.

“Uh,” he said as he started to fumble with the notepad as Emily and Y/N shared a quick smile as they survived the dumpsters littering the area. “The coroner says about 24 hours.”

“So he dumped it in the evening the previous day,” Y/N said as she glanced around the alley. “How many buildings have access to the alley?”

“Three, these two facing this street,” the detective said as he pointed to the street Emily and Y/N had come from, “and then the other one facing that one,” he said as he pointed down the alley to the street at the other end.

“There’s a good chance that he owns a van,” Y/N said as she moved her sunglasses to the top of her head as they got deeper into the alley where her vision wasn’t obscured by the sunlight. “He could back in, get out, take the limbs out from the back and discard them quickly before being on the move again. It would just look like a guy throwing out trash for anyone passing by at that hour.”

“You’re right,” Emily said as she walked back over to Michaels and Y/N. “He discards them like trash, no signs of remorse of any kind.”

“What does that mean?” Michaels asked as they walked out of the alley and on their way to the next dumpsite.

“That he hates women,” Emily and Y/N said in unison, as they continued their tread down the silent street.

“It would be a good idea to have your officers make a door to door on the surrounding buildings of the two dumpsites,” Y/N said as she and detective Michaels walked into the precinct.

“Why?” He asked while holding the door open for her.

She shot him a small grateful smile as they made their way to the conference room the team had made their office for the coming time. “There’s a chance that some of the residents saw or heard something without knowing its importance, so just have them ask if they remember seeing or hearing anything on the evening of the 15th.”

“Will do agent,” he smiled back at her, and held the door to the conference room open for her as well.

As they walked into the room, they saw the entire team sitting around it, all with their heads deep buried in their case files, or in Spencer’s case, a map, and a plethora of coffee cups covering the table.

“What did you get from the dump sites?” JJ asked when she lifted her head to take a generous sip of her coffee.

At the sound of JJ speaking the entire team turned their heads to see who had joined them in their small room.

Y/N smiled and moved to take a seat in the chair between Rossi and Spencer. “We think he might own a van; the alleys are big enough for a van to back in there and block the view from the street. Emily stayed back to interview a woman that said she remembered a loud noise that evening.”

“That’s good,” Hotch said without lifting his eyes from the case file. “He might work as a carpenter, if he has a van and that his preferred method of dismemberment is with a saw.”

“But wouldn’t that still be a huge number?” Morgan asked as he sat back in his chair while twirling a pen between his fingers. “In a city like Indianapolis the number of carpenters must be quite significant.”

“You’re right,” Rossi mumbled before pulling his phone out, before pressing the familiar buttons.

“The oracle of Quantico at your service sir,” the chipper voice of Penelope blasted through the speakers of the phone, making everyone around the table break out a small smile.

“Garcia, how many carpenters are there in the hunting zone of the unsub?” Rossi asked.

“Uh, quite a bit sir,” Penelope said as she typed her fingers off on her end. “Do you have any other parameters so I can narrow this down?”

“Based on victimology he would be in his late twenties to early thirties, white and would own a dark van.”

“I will do my best sir,” she said as adieu, before she hung up.

The team went back to looking over the case files after Hotch directed Michaels to start door-to-door, silence taking over the room as they all looked over the clues hidden in the papers.

“Guys,” Emily said when she hurried into the room half an hour later, “I talked to a woman who said that she heard a noise the night the unsub dumped Louise’s leg, and she said she saw a dark van just like Y/N theorized, and she said there was a logo on it. So, I called Garcia and she tracked down the carpenter firm to be ‘Better Builders’.”

“Okay,” Hotch said, going up the board before looking over the collected evidence. “Reid, Y/L/N could you go talk to the owner of the firm? Go see if there are any employees that match the profile.”

“Yes sir,” they both said in unison as they started getting up from their chairs.

Spencer held the door open for Y/N when they walked out of the room, shy smiles exchanged between them as they moved through the precinct. The sun was still shining bright when the two of them exited the station, silence stretching thin between them, leaving them trapped in the space of their own minds.

“Have you gotten something from the geographic profile?” Y/N asked to break the silence between them as Spencer turned on the car and started to drive away from the station.

“Huh?” Spencer asked, seemingly too lost in his own head to having registered that he had been asked a question.

“The geographical profile?” she asked softly, letting her eyes trail over his profile.

“Right,” he exclaimed softly, “and no, not really. Just uh, that he probably lives or works in the area between the two dumpsites, but unfortunately-”

“We won’t be able to be more specific until we have another victim,” Y/N finished for him, letting out a sigh before turning her gaze out of the windshield.

“Yeah,” Spencer said softly, letting them drive in silence for a while.

Y/N sat with her head leaning against the headrest as she saw the city of Indianapolis pass them by, visions of mutilated women flying through her mind. She thought that after a year of working at the BAU she would have developed a thicker skin, just like the rest of the team. But she was still feeling nauseous every time she saw women being brutally mutilated and felt her heart break and tears press on when a child fell victim to the horrible desires of adults.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked softly when he noticed how silent she had become on the drive.

“Yeah,” she mumbled back softly, mind still sifting through the awful images haunting her mind. “Just thinking about what kind of monster could do this to innocent women.”

“That’s the question that keeps us in business,” Spencer joked light-heartedly, trying to get rid of the tension inside of the SUV.

“You’re right,” she joked along, “as always.” She felt the corners of her lips twist upwards when he barked out a laugh. “And I guess,” she continued softly, “I’m just wondering when I will stop being so soft.”

“What do you mean?” he asked genuinely when they stopped at a red light, cars piling behind them.

“It’s just,” she tried to gather her thoughts to the best of her abilities, feeling the pressure of his gaze on the side of her face. “I’ve been with this team for almost a year, and I still feel sick on cases like this. I still sometimes cry in the bathroom,” she laughed, hoping to reduce the melancholy air in the car. “I wonder if I’ll ever develop thicker skin like the rest of you guys.”

Her words hung in the air for a moment too long for her liking, before Spencer cleared his throat.

“Y/N,” he started softly, gently starting to step on the gas again, “you don’t have to develop thicker skin. You don’t have to do anything. Your gentleness and kindness are great virtues, that makes you who you are. Your empathy and love for everyone around you makes you the wonderful person that you are, and I think that they make you such a good profiler,” he explained, never letting his eyes stray away from the road. “I think sometimes the rest of us become immune to the monstrosities that we see, but you, and Penelope,” he interjected quickly, making a burst out a small laugh while her eyes glazed over with tears, “reminds us what it’s like to be human. To just want to make the world beautiful for everyone else.”

She kept her eyes fixed on him as he spoke. His gentle eyes still fixated on the road before them, his hair curling delicately around his ears. His lips had formed a kind smile as he spoke, and his hands were gripping tightly on the steering wheel as he navigated through the foreign city.

“That’s very nice of you Spence,” she whispered softly, “thank you.”

“There’s no shame in being soft,” he continued while he drove around to find a parking spot. “It’s a gentle reminder that you’re human, that we’re all human. And I’m very happy that you are the way you are, and I wouldn’t want you to change yourself for anything.”

He parked the car and the two agents just sat in the car for a moment longer. Each one basking in the softness of the love filled moment, each pair cheeks flushed red and fingers tingling with amorous sparks.

“Can I hug you?” Y/N asked gently, breaking the delicate silence.

“Uh,” Spencer cleared his throat before nodding his head, “yeah, yeah you can.”

She slowly undid her seatbelt before cautiously moving over the centre console and let her arms wrap around his shoulders.

She felt his arms slowly but surely slither their way around her waist, before he let his head fall and rest in the crook of her neck. His hazel curls were tickling her soft cheek, emitting a small giggle from her from the joyous sensation. He started to giggle softly along with her, their laughs dancing together in the vast space of the SUV.

“Thank you for finishing my consultation,” she whispered into the fabric of his cardigan, letting the scratchiness bring her comfort. She felt him scrunch up the fabric of her cardigan, before he nodded against her shoulder.

“Of course,” he mumbled before starting to release her from his grip, “any time.”

“We should go out there,” she said when they had pulled away, dopey smiles painting both of their faces. “And find that monster.”

“Yeah,” he said and opened his side door, “let’s get him.”

“It turned out that there weren’t any carpenters working for ‘Better Builders’ that matched the preliminary profile, yet the owner of the firm could confirm that one of their vans had been stolen about two weeks prior to the first murder,” Spencer said as he and Y/N walked into the room where Hotch and Morgan was sitting.

“Did they report it?” asked Morgan with his hands resting on the back of his head as he leaned back in his chair.

“Yeah,” Y/N said, as she took a seat on one of the swirly chairs, “I asked Michaels if he could pull up the report to see if there are any leads.”

“Good,” Hotch said before the sound of his ringtone cut the conversation short, “what do you have Garcia.”

“Sir,” she started, the sound of her clicking on the keyboard clear through the mic, “I found something funky regarding the two victims. So at first I couldn’t find any connection between Louise and Emma, but then I did some sleuthing and I found out that in the days leading up to their deaths day had both gone on a date. Not so weird you probably say, I say it’s weird when the date is with the same person, and from the looks of it they both met him on a dating app.”

Silence took over the room as the four team members processed the information.

“Can you find out who the prince charming is, baby girl?” Derek asked as he leaned on closer to the phone.

“Oh, I’m already ten steps ahead of you sugar, and the prince charming is Sheldon Green, but here’s the kicker. It’s not Sheldon Green.”

The room was once again silent, the puzzle pieces laying spread all around them, refusing to be put together. The silence was broken when an officer came in and handed Spencer the case file on the stolen van.

“What do you mean Pen,” Y/N asked, confusion clear in her voice.

“I’ll tell you what I mean sweetums,” Penelope continued, the tapping stopping on her end of the call, “I did my thing and pulled up the profile from Louise’s phone and quickly matched the person on the profile to Mr. Green, but the actual Mr. Green has a very legit alibi for both times because the first time he was at his boyfriend’s parent’s house for family dinner and the second time he was at a work conference two towns over.”

“So someone has used Green’s identity to lure the victims onto a date?” Y/N asked, still confused.

“It would appear so. I have successfully hacked into the account, and I have tried to track down the phone the creep has used but have come up blank. He is using some weird firewall, incognito thing that I have trouble working my way around it but trust me I’m trying.”

“Okay,” Hotch mumbled, deep lost within his own head. “Can you see if he’s arranged any upcoming dates on the app?”

“I can’t see any based on the messages he has on this app, but sir he could be on a lot, there’s so many dating apps and websites out there, and I have no way of knowing if he uses Sheldon Green as an identity on those as well, or if he uses another one,” she said already back to tapping away. “And by the way, all the women he has matched with look very similar to both Louise and Emma, so he definitely has a type. They were just the unlucky ones,” she said with sadness seeping clearly through the speaker

“Keep taps on the Sheldon Green profile and let us know if he starts to talk to anyone on there.”

“Aye aye captain,” she said before hanging up, leaving the room in silence once more.

“Fucking creep,” Y/N mumbled before standing up and abruptly leaving the room, an uncomfortable chill running down her back. The precinct was buzzing with phone calls and voices trying to talk over each other. Y/N was quick to move in and out through the clutter of desks and officers milling around, before she finally got outside.

The sun had set, in its place the moon was shining bright over head of her, a few stars visible from the bright lights of the big city. There were cars zooming by; fathers desperate to make it home and kiss their babies goodnight, mothers tired from an evening of soccer matches, husbands buzzing with flowers in the front seat and wives crying searching for refuge at their friends’ houses.

All so blissfully unaware of the monsters hiding out in the night. A blessing she didn’t have anymore.

She let her back rest against the cinderblock wall behind her and let her eyes drift shut for just a moment, letting her pretend she wasn’t in the midst of hunting down a monster. Pretending that she was 19 again, somewhere, still like the rest. Still so wonderfully naïve.

“You okay?” a voice pulled her from her silent reveries, and she quickly opened her eyes to see JJ, Rossi and Emily before her, all three of them with concern in their eyes.

“Oh yeah,” she brushed their concern off with a swift, dismissive wave of her hand. “Just tired.”

“Well,” Rossi started, moving forward to get a good grip on one of her shoulders, “it’s been a long day, hopefully we can all head back to the hotel soon.”

“That would be great,” Emily said as she and Rossi opened the door to the station, leaving Y/N and JJ out in the open air.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” JJ asked, leaning against the wall as well, hands folded together in front of her.

Y/N let out a deep sigh before letting her eyes fall shut again. “Penelope discovered that he uses a guy’s identity to get them to go on dates with him via dating apps,” she started to explain. “And she has no way of knowing if he uses the same identity on other dating sites, so we basically don’t have any way of getting to him.”

“But we will,” JJ encouraged softly, her hand rubbing up and down Y/N’s shoulder softly, “just like we always do.”

“You’re right,” Y/N smiled gratefully, before quickly taking her phone out of her pocket and checking the time. “If you hurry, I bet you have enough time to call Henry and Will and read a bedtime story.”

They profilers shared a small laugh before JJ took her leave and moved inside, already pulling Will’s number up on her phone.

She let herself close her eyes for the third time, feeling how exhaustion was slowly making its home in all of her limbs.

“I brought you some tea,” a voice said gently, as if careful to not startle her too much.

She peeked one of her eyes open to see Spencer standing bashfully by her side, a paper cup filled with tea in one hand, and his worn, wool blazer in the other.

“They don’t have strawberry tea, so it’s just earl grey,” he said carefully as he carefully handed it over to her, making sure she didn’t spill any in the transfer.

“Thank you, Spence,” Y/N smiled sweetly, before giving the beverage a gentle blow before taking a sip.

“And uh,” he continued, looking down at his converse that seemed to try to bury themselves in the cement beneath them, “Emily said it was pretty chilly so I thought you might like a coat, and I know that you’ve said that yours isn’t very practical for chilly nights so I thought you might like mine, but it’s totally fine if you don’t, I just didn’t want you to be cold-“ he said, his mouth running 100 miles a minute, flustered cheeks blazing under the pale moonlight.

“Spencer,” she said, laying a careful hand on his forearm, “that’s very sweet of you. I would love to borrow your jacket if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course,” he was quick to exchange the jacket in his hand for the cup in hers so that she could put on the coat. He handed her back the cup silently, letting himself loose himself in the vision of her standing under a combination of streetlight and the gentle glow of the moon, all the while wearing his coat.

“Did you get anything from the police report?” she asked gently before moving to sit on the curb, he knees up to her chest and the cup resting on one of her kneecaps.

Spencer followed, looking apprehensively at the curb before joining her by her side, with his knees in the same position but his arms wrapped around his legs and his hands clapped together in front of his shins.

“There was a witness that had said that they saw a man lurking around the street for about an hour or so in the time frame of when the van was stolen,” he explained looking at her as she took sips of the tea while looking at the passing cars. “They gave a description, so we have turned that over to Garcia.”

“That’s good,” Y/N mumbled before taking another swig of her tea.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently, scooting an inch closer to her on the dirty curb.

“Yeah,” she sighed, her eyes meeting his gentle ones, “this case is just hitting a bit close to home, I guess. No idea why though.”

“We all get those,” he said, letting his eyes rise up to look at the mighty moon.

“Thank you for bringing me a cup of tea Spence,” she mumbled, scooting an inch closer to him on the dirty curb.

“It helps you calm down,” he mumbled, eyes now no longer on the moon but rather at the shrinking space between their bodies.

“It does?” she asked, breath caught in her throat.

“Yeah,” he said, eyes flickering up to her face, “every time you drink tea you become calmer, and generally when you hold a warm cup, no matter the beverage, you pulse slows down.”

“I didn’t know that,” she said, letting her eyes flicker over his face.

Spencer just shrugged with a small smile before letting his eyes fly down to briefly take a glimpse at her lips before they went back to her eyes.

“Is that why you always bring me tea?” she inquired, letting her own eyes fly down to his lips, where his tongue is gently poking out.

“Yeah,” he laughed gently, subconsciously leaning into the heat that was radiating off of her.

She leaned into him as well, their noses barely brushing, their soft breaths mixing together, “that’s incredibly thoughtful.”

He swallowed around the lump in his throat before he dared to speak, “it’s what you do for the people you care about.”

They both leaned in closer, their noses now brushing up against one another, lips only a breath away from touching, “it’s what you do for the people you lo-“

His words were caught short from the sound of the door to the station bursting open, resulting in them pulling away from the moment in time they had created together. The team came bustling out, all of them looking mere minutes away from collapsing on the pavement from exhaustion.

“Y/L/N, Reid we’re done for the night, we all need to get some rest,” Hotch said when he noticed the two young agents sitting together on the curb.

“Oh,” they both said, hurrying to stand up and brush away any dirt from their time on the ground.

“I need to go grab my satch-“ Spencer started to say, already moving towards the door, but Derek was quick to lift up the worn satchel that he was carrying in his hand.

“Nope,” he said, turning Reid around and directing him to one of the SUVs as Emily linked her arm through Y/N’s and led her to the other one holding a bit further down.

“Nice coat,” Emily mumbled into Y/N’s ear, laughing quietly when the young agent’s ears started to turn red.

“Shut up,” Y/N said, hiding her smile behind the paper cup of lukewarm tea, as she watched Spencer pile into the black after Derek, a small smile shared between them, only for them to know about.

Her boots were clicking against the floor of the station as she made the first stop of the day at the coffee station. A few officers and detectives were there at the early morning hour, and the team was already setting up in the conference room, bracing themselves for the day to come.

She poured four packs of sugar into a cup, quickly dozing it in the hot coffee stirring it as she started to walk through the room to get to the team.

The weight of a blazer was heavy on her arm and the heat from the coffee cup warmed her entire body in the early morning hour as she discreetly opened the door and moved to take a seat next to Spencer as Hotch was talking.

“We need to go over victimology again,” Hotch started, and the team started to list all of the facts of the two victims.

“Here,” Y/N whispered softly, sliding the paper cup over to Spencer.

He averted his eyes away from where Emily was talking about the unsub having had a relationship with a woman that bore a resemblance to the victims.

“Excuse me?” he asked, his eyes drifting over her still sleepy features.

She nodded down to the paper cup between them, steam flying up and dancing between them. “Don’t worry,” she smiled at him, still keeping her voice low, “I made sure to put loads of sugar in.”

He smiled softly down at the cup, before looking up at her again with his lips pressed tightly together in a smile. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiled back, finally letting the conversation between the rest of the team get her attention.

Unlike Y/N, Spencer’s attention was now nowhere near the conversation about who knows what. All he could focus on was the warmth radiating from the cup between his slender fingers and from the person sitting next to him.

He could still perfectly see her face and her sleepy morning smile as he stared down in the coffee. He could feel a smile pull at the corners of his lips as he went over the sweet interaction multiple times in his head.

An elbow to the ribs from his other side was what brought him out of his daydreams, and he lifted his head to see the entire team staring him down.

“What?” he asked, taking a sip of the steaming brew.

“Have you come further with the geo profile?” Hotch asked from where he stood by the bulletin board.

“No,” Spencer said, sitting up straighter in his chair, “I’m waiting for Garcia to look into the night where the van was stolen.”

Hotch made a sound of approval before he started to give out orders for the team. Y/N and Emily were to go join the officers in the door to door rounds along with the local officers, Morgan and Reid would go and take a look at the crime scenes and visit the morgue to see if they had missed anything and JJ, Rossi and Hotch would stay put and look through the details again.

Spencer caught the eyes of Derek over the table as they all started to move around, a teasing glint in the older agent’s eyes and a mischievous smile on his lips.

Spencer furrowed his brows in question, which only deepened when Derek nodded to the coffee in Spencer’s hand. Derek simply shook his head and laughed silently to himself as he shared a quick glance with Emily, who was sitting on the other side of Spencer. She also simply just laughed and waited for Y/N to finish the conversation she was in the midst of with JJ.

Derek was quick to walk around the table, grab Spencer around the shoulders and direct him out of the stuffy conference room and out of the station.

“Now,” Derek said as they had made it halfway through the precinct, “is there a reason why Y/N brought you, and only you, a cup of coffee?”

“Uh,” Spencer fumbled over his words as he stopped in the midst of a step at Derek’s words. “What do you mean?”

Derek simply laughed as he took a stance in front of Spencer, efficiently blocking Spencer’s only escape route. “Now don’t get me wrong, Y/N is a very sweet girl, but in the year that she’s been on the team, she has never brought a coffee for just me, if you know what I’m saying.”

“I don’t.”

“Of course not,” Derek just laughed again, and nodded his head to a thing over Spencer’s shoulder. When Spencer turned his head to look, he was met with the sight of Y/N that was still talking to JJ. “Did anything happen between the two of you last night?” Derek tried to reiterate his question when Spencer turned his eyes back to his friends after a moment off blatantly staring at Y/N.

“No,” Spencer said, brows deeply furrowed.

“Are you sure?” Derek continued, “there was nothing going on between the two of you when we went home last night? When you were sitting on the curb?”

“Oh, that,” Spencer said, a red flush covering his cheeks and ears at the fact that the rest of the team had witnessed the intimate moment that he had thought had been strictly between the two of them.

“Yeah,” Derek laughed and clapped his hand down on Spencer’s shoulder as he started to guide the younger agent out of the doors.

“She was just feeling a bit out of it, so I brought her some tea,” Spencer started, his mind running faster than his mouth could compete with, “she calms down significantly when she drinks tea, or just generally has a warm beverage in her hands. Actually a study has shown-“ Spencer started to ramble on as they got out of the precinct, the early morning sun shining down on them.

But before he could distract Derek any further, a voice called out behind them, cutting Spencer short.

“Spence!” she called as she hurried out of the double doors, with Emily tailing behind her with a smirk on her face.

“Yeah?” Spencer said and both he and Derek turned towards the other two agents.

“I uhm,” she started, slightly fumbling over her words, anxiously glancing from Reid to Morgan, who was also standing with a big smirk on his face. “I forgot to give this back to you yesterday.”

She reached her arm out between them, offering him the battered blazer. Spencer looked down at it for a minute before slowly taking it into his hand that wasn’t holding the coffee, images of her wearing it the prior evening flying through his mind.

“Right,” Spencer said, nodding his head.

“And I just wanted to,” she trailed off, quickly looking at Derek before looking back at Spencer.

Derek seemed to get the hint, because he silently made his adieu and joined Emily, who was standing and waiting by the parked SUVs.

“I wanted to thank you for yesterday,” she said, her voice light and feathery in the spring morning. “You were very sweet, and it made me feel a lot better.”

“Oh, it was no problem,” Spencer said, the blush returning to his face.

“Still,” she continues, taking a miniscule step towards him, “it meant a lot to me.”

“You’re my friend,” Spencer said softly, letting his eyes glide over her face, letting himself bask in the way the sun made her eyes gleam. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I am,” she was quick to reply, sparing a quick look over to the two older agents that were watching them like hawks.

“I’m glad,” Spencer smiled down at her, tightening his grip on the blazer in his hands.

The spring wind was ruffling his hair around, making locks fall into his eyes. Before he could let a hand run through his curls, an unfamiliar hand beat him to it.

Her hand ran gently through his hair, making the curls fall back into the righteous place. She let the hand glide down to the side of his face, holding gently onto his soft cheek. Before he could fully grasp what was happening, she was throwing her arms around his shoulders, giving him a tight squeeze. She pressed a quick kiss to the cheek she had previously been caressing, before she pulled away from his body, his arms still hanging rigidly by his sides.

“Thank you,” she whispered again, before hurrying over to Emily.

Spencer watched her walk away, eyes following her retreating form as she dragged Emily into one of the SUVs, flipping Derek the bird when he called out a comment after her that Spencer didn’t hear because of the ringing in his ears.

“Pretty boy,” Derek called out, a know-it-all look painted all over his face, as he watched the young agent standing baffled in the middle of the sidewalk. “Are you sure nothing happened?”

Spencer could still feel the ghost of her arms around his neck, could still feel the pressure of her body against his and the softness of her lips against his cheek. His ears, that were a colour of red that challenged roses, were ringing, and his eyes were firmly locked in the place she had previously been.

“Reid!” Derek called out again, a loud laugh on the verge of spilling from his lips.

“Huh?” Spencer was finally pulled out from his reveries, making him acutely aware of the fact that Derek and Emily, and potentially many others, had witnessed the small moment between the two of them.

“Nothing happened between the two of you huh?”

“Shut up,” Spencer mumbled as he quickly walked over to the car, hopelessly hoping for a silent car ride, his mind already drifting back to just a moment before.

The room was cold.

She could feel her colleagues’ eyes on her from behind the one-way mirror behind her as she leaned back in her chair.

Her heels were clicking on the floor as she tapped her foot as she kept a firm gaze on the man in front of her.

Emily was sitting beside her, flipping through a folder as she was repeating the rights to the person in front of the two of them.

“Do you understand?” she finished, and her eyes joined Y/N’s and looked at the man on the other side of the table.

The silence stretched across the room, the only sound being Y/N’s heels and Emily’s ruffling through the file.

“Do you understand your rights?” Y/N repeated, brows furrowing as she stared down the man.

He continued to stay silent, his gaze locked on where his hands were cuffed to the table. His dirty-blonde hair was a mess and the glasses on his face were slightly broken from the run-in he had had with Morgan.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Emily sighed and let the folder drop down onto the table surface.

“So, Elliott, do you know Louise Obsen?” Y/N asked, her hands folding together in her lap.

He continued to stay silent, eyes never drifting away from their safe spot as the two agents continued to stare him down.

His baby blue button-down was wrinkled and the more Y/N continued to observe him the more she thought about how un-special he was. Nothing about him was noteworthy and she wouldn’t give him a second glance if he were to pass her in the street.

A murderer hiding in plain sight.

“What about Emma Day?” Emily took over and leaned across the table to get closer to him. She slid two pictures across the table to him; the faces of the two young, beautiful women staring back at him from where he cowered within himself.

“Nothing?” Y/N asked and stood up to get rid of the restlessness that was starting to sink into her bones and started to walk around the room slowly.

“Never heard of them before,” he finally grumbled but his eyes remained downcast.

Emily and Y/N’s eyes met from across the room, both pairs of eyebrows lifting in disbelief.

“Oh really?” Emily prodded.

“Yeah,” he said slowly, and Y/N moved to stand behind him and glanced over his shoulder at the two pictures.

“That’s a shame huh,” Y/N said with her arms crossed across her chest, “they’re two very beautiful women.”

“Oh yeah,” Emily agreed as she leaned back in her chair.

“Actually,” Y/N said as if the thought had just hit her, “they kind of look like you Em.”

“Yeah,” Emily laughed a bit, “they kind of do.”

They waited for Elliott to react. From where Y/N was standing she could see the tenseness in his shoulders. His leg was bouncing up and down with a rapid pace and she was sure she could see a small bead of sweat trail down his temple.

Y/N glanced up at the one-way mirror that was behind Emily and could almost feel Spencer’s eyes catching her from the other side.

“But it doesn’t really surprise me,” Y/N continued and moved from her place behind him to lean up against the chair that she had previously been sitting on, “that you don’t know them I mean.”

“What do you mean?” he asked slowly, taking the bait just like she had hoped.

“Oh, you know,” she sighed, lifting her head up to glance at the ceiling quickly before letting them fall back to the man in front of her. “Why would two young, beautiful women know you? You’re just an engineer at a random tech company.”

“You’re right Y/N,” Emily continued and looked up at her colleague.

“Like, would you pay him any mind Emily? If he came up to you in a bar or something?”

“No,” Emily laughed loudly and glanced at the man that was slowly starting to simmer in his own anger.

“Not even entertain him for the fun of it?” Y/N continued, knowingly rubbing salt in the newly created wound.

“I have standards Y/N,” she played along, her eyes also locked on the man.

“That’s a shame,” Y/N said as she moved to sit down again, “I think you’re his type.”

From across the table the two agents could see the way he was gritting his teeth together and how his hands were wringing together in anger.

“I bet you would love nothing more than to take agent Prentiss home,” she continued slowly leaning across the table to get into his personal space. “Lure her with the promise of a good time.”

“And, when I would turn him down,” Emily started to participate and mirrored Y/N’s pose, “he would spend the rest of the night watching from afar.”

Elliott finally lifted his gaze and was met with two agents fake smiling at him from the other side of the table.

“He would wait until you were alone,” Y/N continued, making sure to maintain the eye contact that she’d finally established.

“But he wouldn’t have the guts to confront me,” Emily drawled on, fiddling with the many papers in the file.

“So he would attack you from behind,” Y/N took over, “like a coward”

“And he would put me in a car,” Emily said as she pulled out a photo of the ‘Better Builders’ van, “one that wouldn’t be able to be connected to him, because despite being a coward, he isn’t stupid.”

“Then he would take you somewhere isolated,” the other agent mumbled, letting her hands run through her hair. “Like a cabin or something.”

“Something like this?” Emily asked and pulled out another photo, this one of an isolated cabin they had been able to connect with Elliott.

“Yeah, exactly,” Y/N laughed and pushed the picture towards him. “Do you recognize this place, Elliott?”

“No,” he grumbled, eyes refusing to look at the pictures in front of him.

“Are you sure?” Emily asked, “because that cabin belonged to your father, and from what we have been able to find, said cabin now belongs to you.”

He just shook his head as Emily talked, eyes burning holes in the table beneath his hands.

“So he would take you somewhere isolated,” Y/N tried to get the conversation back on the prior path, “somewhere no one would hear you scream.”

“And then he would play around, terrorising me for God knows how long,” any kind of playfulness or teasing had left Emily’s voice and a sadness and anger had taken their place.

“And then, to finish it off,” Y/N said, her voice low and sad, “he would shoot you in the back of the head.”

“But he knows a body is too difficult to get rid of and even though the cabin is isolated the body would be found if he were to just dump it,” Emily continued, hard eyes looking at the suspect.

“So he would have to cut you up,” Y/N mumbled, “and discard the limbs and only hope that they won’t be found.”

Silence stretched across the room again. The two agents staring down the man before them. The man, who was shaking and whose face had become beat red.

“See Elliott,” Emily said, starting to collect the pictures that were laid out on the table before them, “that’s what we think you did to Louise Obsen and Emma Day.”

“And when we get a search warrant for your cabin, which is in the process, we will find something in there that confirms that you did this.” Y/N said moving to lean back in her chair. “A hair, a piece of a nail or a little drop of blood that confirms that you killed two innocent women.”

“And when that happens,” Emily continued, “you will get locked away for a long time. And trust me,” she paused and leaned in closer to him, “you won’t survive long in a federal prison.”

“But,” Y/N drawled out, “if you cooperate we could do something for you.”

He continued to stay quiet, eyes still not looking at them.

“Well,” Emily sighed and moved to stand up, Y/N following suit, “suit yourself.”

The two agents moved to walk out of the interrogation room, before a voice stopped them.

“I’ll tell you,” he said slowly, causing them to turn around and look back at him staring at the two of them. “But only you,” he stared at Emily with intent.

Y/N glanced at her co-worker and was met with a confident nod as she moved to take a seat once again.

Y/N looked back at the pair one final time before leaving the room to watch from behind the glass.

Once she stepped out into the hallway she was met with Rossi and Spencer shifting their gazes from the interrogation room to her as she closed the door behind her.

“Good work kiddo,” Rossi said, walking away from the glass and clapping her gently on the shoulder before moving past her, probably to find Hotch and inform him of Elliot being willing to cooperate.

“Thank you, sir,” Y/N mumbled as she watched him walk back into the hectic precinct.

“You did really well,” Spencer said as she moved to stand beside him and watch Elliott talk with Emily.

“Thanks Spence,” Y/N said, looking up at him as he looked down at her at the same time.

They stood there for a while, just listening to the confession that was pouring out of Elliott. From where she stood beside him Y/N could feel the heat radiating from Spencer. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his dark purple tie matched the light purple shirt perfectly.

Y/N shifted her eyes back to the interrogation but could still feel his eyes on the side of her face. As they stood side by side Y/N could feel a soft motion of a finger slowly moving across the back of her hand.

As she glanced down, she saw Spencer’s pinkie moving slowly across the plain of the back of her hand; she could feel the heat slowly spread across her face.

She slowly manoeuvred her hand around so she could rub her finger against his as well, before a loud voice forced their hands apart.

“Y/L/N,” Derek called from behind them, walking across the precinct and the two other agents turned around to see him approach them. “Rossi said that you got him to cooperate.”

“Yeah,” Y/N coughed as she cleared her throat and moved to fold her arms across her chest to try to delete the prior moment from Derek’s mind.

“How’d you do it?” he said as he moved closer to the pair and stood between Y/N and Spencer as he spied into the room with a knowing grin on his face.

“We just tried to get under his skin,” Y/N explained as she looked back into the interrogation room again and saw Emily scribbling down notes as Elliott spoke. “Showed him how much of a coward he is.”

Derek laughed and laid an arm around her shoulders and gave her arm an affectionate clap.

“Well, at least this one went pretty smoothly.”

Both Spencer and Y/N hummed their agreement, two pairs of cheeks burning from an erased moment in time.

“Garcia said that you were hungry,” Spencer said, making Y/N’s attention divert from the case file in front of her to the genius standing with a paper towel in his hand, “so I thought you would like this.”

He gently placed the paper towel on her desk, making sure that it didn’t land on one of the many files that were scattered on the desk. The paper unfolded and inside was a pear, cut up in four pieces, just waiting to be eaten.

All the while she gathered the pieces of fruit and tugged the paper towel closer to her, Spencer was standing, more like hovering over her, a nervous smile tugging at his lips. His hands were tangled together in front of his body, eyes following her every move as she started to munch on the cut-up fruit.

“Thank you, Spence,” she said, half a piece of pear already in her mouth, “this is just what I needed.”

“You’re very welcome,” he said with a big smile on his face, before he gathered a case file from his desk and bounced up the stairs to Hotch’s office.

“He’s never brought me a pear,” a voice pulled Y/N’s attention away from the now closed door, a smile ever so present on her lips as she slowly chewed on the piece of fruit.

“What?” Y/N asked, confused, turning to see Derek and Emily sitting with shit eating grins on their faces.

“Pretty boy,” Derek elaborated gesturing to Hotch’s office, “in the many years I’ve known him, he has never brought me a sliced-up pear.”

“Me neither,” Emily said as she twirled around in her chair.

“Well,” Y/N started to say, very much confused at where the direction of this conversation was going, “maybe he doesn’t know that you guys like pears.”

“I don’t think that’s why,” Derek laughed, throwing the pen he had been playing with in his hand down on his desk.

“What do you mean?” Y/N asked unconsciously, reaching for another piece hidden in the paper towel.

“What are we discussing?” Penelope broke into the conversation, a happy smile on her pink painted lips.

“Nothing,” Y/N was quick to say as she turned her chair back to face her desk, in hopes of ending the conversation before it even began.

“Pretty Ricky had heard from you that dear Y/N was hungry, so he cut up a pear for her,” Derek said, and even with her back to them she could practically hear the smiles on all of their faces.

“I haven’t talked to Reid all day,” Penelope said, happiness practically radiating off of her by the news.

“You haven’t?” At this revelation Y/N was quick to turn her chair around, confusion clear on her face.

“No,” she dragged out the word, letting a giggle slip out at the end.

“Then why would he say that?” Y/N asked as she chewed on another piece, her brows furrowed in confusion.

“Because,” Emily dragged out as she got up and moved to sit on Y/N’s desk, “he needs a middleman.”

“A middleman?” Y/N asked, even more confused.

“Someone to make it seem like he wasn’t noticing that you were hungry based on your behaviour,” Derek explained, sliding his chair closer to Y/N’s desk.

“He’s a profiler,” Y/N mumbled to the rest, “if my behaviour was showing that I was hungry, why would he be embarrassed to just give me something to eat. We’re friends.”

“Actually,” Penelope piped up, finally seeing it as her time to make an input into the conversation, “giving snacks to someone is something many consider a love language.”

Y/N choked on the last piece of pear in her throat and turned around to cough down into the paper towel that was still laying on her desk. Emily laughed as she clapped her between the shoulder blades.

“Guys!” she exclaimed once she had gotten everything under control again, “he just gave me a pear. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Emily sighed as she shrugged her shoulders up to her ears as she looked down at the younger, oblivious agent. “I remember a guy saying that once the pear was an allegory for the heart.”

Silence took its place between the four agents. Three of them with giant smiles on their faces as the fourth was simply staring out in space, trying to solve a puzzle that she didn’t even know existed. Her ears were ringing from the realisation, cheeks heating under the scrutiny from the three others as her mind slowly started to fill to the brim of all of her shared moments with Spencer.

“You think he likes me?” she asked quietly, only daring to let her eyes fall on Penelope, whose face was almost splitting in half from the giant smile on her face.

“Oh, I think ‘like’,” Penelope said as she brought her hands up and made citation quotes around the word, “is an understatement.”

“He said,” Y/N started, keeping her eyes locked with Penelope’s as she started to fiddle with her hands that were resting in her lap, “He said that he knows what it’s like to love something that’s out of reach.”

The group fell silent as they took in the revelation, the three of them waiting for Y/N to continue. “Do you think he was talking about me?”

“Duh!” Penelope practically yelled, which gained the attention of the agents dutifully working around the quartet. “That boy has been in love with you since you first joined the team. And I may not be a profiler,” she continued making her way over to stand next to the chair Y/N was sitting on, “but I think that his feelings are reciprocated.”

Before Y/N had the chance to say anything, the sound of a door slamming shut brought them all out of the small moment they had created between themselves. As she looked up to the landing, she saw Spencer walking down the stairs again.

“What’s going on?” he asked curiously, letting his eyes flicker from Derek’s smirk, to Penelope’s sparkling eyes, to Emily’s suppressed grin and finally to Y/N’s wide eyes.

“Oh nothing,” Penelope was quick to say, “just talking about the upcoming weekend.”

“Oh,” Spencer said as he took a seat in his chair, and let the folder he had with him drop to the desk, “do you have any special plans Garcia?”

“Uh,” she sputtered, clearly not ready to talk herself out of her lie, “yes, I’m going to go antique shopping with Emily.”

“We are?” Emily was quick to but in, disdain clear in her voice from the mere thought of going antiquing.

“Yes! Remember we talked about it a while ago,” Penelope mumbled before dramatically gesturing to the watch hanging on the wall, “would you look at that, I have to go back to my office to do,” she dragged out the words, as the four profilers looked at her with amusement on their faces, “to do hacking things. Bye!”

And before they knew she had hurried out of their eyesight, her blonde hair bobbing up and down as she moved as fast as her heels allowed her to.

“Weird,” Spencer said, sharing a quick smile with Y/N before they all went back to their work. Or, three of them went back to their work.

Y/N spend the rest of her afternoon sifting through every interaction she had ever had with the young doctor, from the moment they had met in this very bullpen, to the first time she had made him laugh over a joke, to the time she had successfully dragged him out to celebrate a successful case with the rest of the team. In the small year they had known each other they had created so many small moments together, so many fond memories that lived in her heart.

And at some point, in the small year, Spencer had managed to worm himself into a part of her heart that she herself didn’t even know existed. Sparks flew out of her finger tips every time they gently touched him. Her heart started to beat faster every time he would smile at her or she would hear his joyous laughter. She started to get lost in the depth of his warm eyes every time they made eye contact, drowning in a sea of honey that she refused to get saved from.

And, unknown to her, she had made herself a home in Spencer’s heart. Her gentle touch seemed to light a fire in him, making him burn to the bone every time her delicate fingers grazed his skin. His smile had become more frequent, and his laughter more boisterous ever since she had joined the team; her mere presence lightening up any gloomy day.

So, there they sat the rest of the sunny afternoon; a boy and a girl so oblivious about the love that flowed so effortlessly between them. She could still taste the lingering taste of the fruit, and she swore her heart fluttered in her chest every time. He could still see the joyful look she had given him when he had handed her the folded-up paper towel, and his heart sang every time it flowed through his mind.

And without either of them noticing, the sunny day ticked by minute for minute. The bullpen had started to empty out for the day, leaving them some of the few agents left.

She could still hear Derek and Emily typing away on their monitors and have occasional chit chat, and out of the corner of her eye she could still see Hotch and Rossi in their respective offices.

As she was finishing up one of her last files, she noticed how Spencer slowly started to pack up for the day.

After a year she had learned his routine for when he would start to head home. Firstly, he would turn off his computer, secondly, he would stack all of his files into a neat pile, ready for when he came in tomorrow, thirdly he would start to pack his bag, double checking he had everything, before finally rising from his chair, putting on his coat and saying goodbye to those who stayed longer than him.

He was in the midst of the fourth step, coat being ready to be put on when they made eye contact over the divider between their desks.

He slowed his actions, taking his time to adjust the lapels on his jacket and picking up his satchel. It was as if everything that had been left unsaid by the two exploded in that moment. All of the gentle touches and the burning fires. All of the loud laughter and the timid smiles. A year worth of love combined into just a five second glance.

“Have a good night,” she said softly, eyes firmly locked with his.

“You too,” he said as he slowly walked by her desk, “see you tomorrow.”

She smiled at him, feeling all of the air leave her lungs when he smiled back.

“I’ll see you tomorrow as well genius,” Morgan called after him loudly, making Spencer walk faster out of the bullpen, and even from where Y/N was sitting, she could see the tips of his ears turn red.

“Y/N,” Emily said firmly when Spencer was out of ear shot.

“Emily,” Y/N said back, refusing to give the two cocky agents what they wanted from her.

“Go after that boy,” she said, walking over and hovering over her with her hands on her hips.

“What?” Y/N asked, still looking down at the paperwork in front of her.

“Are you kidding me? I just saw the two of you practically declaring your love for each other with just one look! And for some reason, you refuse to accept the fact that you two are in love with each other,” she said, one of her hands coming down on the younger agent’s shoulder. “Look, okay, I’m no expert at love or anything, but what the two of you have is something special. And I get it, okay. Love is scary, and with our job we see how easily our loved ones can be torn away from us, so I get it more than anyone that it’s scary to succumb to it. But, and this is just my opinion, it would be foolish to let a love like the one the two of you have go to waste.”

After her monologue Emily made her way back over to her own desk, eyes locked with Morgan, desperate to get him to help him. But before he got the chance, Y/N spoke up timidly.

“If I don’t come back will you finish my paperwork?”

“Yes,” both Emily and Derek said without hesitation, smiles spreading wider and wider when they saw the girl hurrying to grab her back and coat before quickly walking out of the office.

“Fucking finally,” Derek mumbled, letting his eyes follow the young agent out of the double glass doors.

Y/N stood by the elevator, repeatedly pressing the button in hopes of making the machine work any faster. When the doors finally opened, she was greeted by an out of breath Spencer, who looked like he had just run across the parking lot.

“Hi,” he mumbled softly, slowly stepping out of the box as she took a few steps back.

“Hi,” she said, “did you forget something?”

A moment of silence hung between them, both unsure of how to approach the inevitable conversation.

“I-“ he cleared his throat into his fist before continuing, “I don’t know.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling the burning stare of two pairs of eyes on her back.

“I,” he started, his hands hidden in his coat pockets and shoes shuffling around nervously on the floor, but she was quick to interrupt him before he could go on.

“Emily just reminded me of something,” she said, her voice small but confident. “Someone once told me that the pear was an allegory for the heart.”

At her words Spencer’s eyes widened the slightest, and a pretty blush started to paint over his cheekbones.

“That someone would be correct,” his voice was low but clear, intending to keep the conversation strictly between them.

“And you gave me a pear,” she continued, her hands wringing together in front of her. “And someone would say that means that you, in some way, gave me your heart.”

They both stared at each other, oblivious to the gathering that was happening in the bullpen behind them. Emily and Derek had now been joined by Penelope and JJ, all eyes set on the two of them, and even from their distance they could feel the tension between the two almost lovers.

“That’s one way to understand it,” he said, taking a miniscule step closer to her.

“Is it the right way?” she asked, mimicking him and tipping a millimetre closer.

“I think,” he started, letting his hands come up from his coat pockets and let them slowly intertwine with hers. “I think that I gave my heart to you a long time ago.”

“Really?” she moved closer towards him, letting her fingertips spark at the feeling of his gentle touch.

“Yeah,” he nodded, curls falling into his gentle eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” she whispered, squeezing his hands before removing them from his when he nodded his head nervously.

She let them slide up his arms before they found their place on his jaw, soft skin meeting her cold fingers. His arms found their purpose around her soft waist, giving him the opportunity to pull her in closer. She let her eyes roam his face for a second, before she leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips. His nose was cold against hers, his lips chapped from the colder weather, but none of it mattered. They stood no comparison to the way his hands were grasping at her waist, or the way she could feel a smile on his lips against hers.

They pulled apart slowly, both of their eyes still closed, both of them just existing in the moment they had created between them.

“I gave you my heart a long time ago too,” she whispered to him, letting her arms wrap around his neck and gave him a tight hug. “But I will be happy to give you a pear as well.”

He laughed at her comment, before he pulled her into another kiss, letting himself taste the sweet taste of pear that lingered on her lips.

“Pears cannot ripen alone. So we ripened together” - Meridel Le Sueur

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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archived-kin · 3 years

Text

one thousand and one nights with you (is not enough to spend)

note from kin: the title is from that song in twisted by starkid, but that’s about as far as the similarity goes

anyway you’re visionless and basically run a little witch shop in mondstadt, with flowers and cool gemstones and mysterious powders and potions and stuff. albedo gets a lot of his alchemy ingredients from you (also he’s dating you but not a lot of people know that)

fandom: genshin impact

character(s): gn! reader, albedo, plus a surprise venti cameo

pairing(s): albedo/reader

warning(s): i don’t know albedo that well so he might be ooc? also this is so cheesy it’s a little ridiculous

genre: fluff

“I’ll be going now, boss!”

You smile and return your assistant’s cheery goodbye wave as he disappears off into the night outside, freshly-filled coin pouch jingling at his hip. As the door swings shut with quiet click, your surroundings fall into quietude.

The candles keeping the room lit are beginning to burn down to stumps, throwing most of your shelves into shadow. You take a sip from the steaming cup sitting on your counter, then stand up to begin taking inventory and closing up shop.

The silence is comforting after such a long day. You’re not entirely sure what brought on the sudden increase in customers, given that your shop is tucked away in a quiet little corner of Mondstadt that not many tend to linger around. That had been a deliberate choice, and so was the lack of advertising - your speciality is the individual, not the crowd.

Still, you can’t say that it isn’t nice to have the increased income. More profit means better wages for your assisstant - and more Mora to buy even more cool things to stock.

You pass about an hour ambling around your shop, rearranging your products and making sure that everything is in order. Then, just as the bat-shaped clock on the wall chimes one o’clock, the bell above the front door jingles, and you hear quiet footsteps enter.

You don’t pay it any mind at first, instead focusing on rearranging the little bottles of various dusts and extracts on one of the ingredients shelves. A hand settles on the small of your back, and you feel the new arrival’s presence come to a stop beside you.

“We’re out of powdered lizard tail,” You say without looking at him.

A pause. Then a quiet chuckle. “That’s how you want to start the night?”

You smirk. “The night started a good while ago, darling.”

Albedo sighs as you turn to face him, though his soft smile betrays his faux-exasperation. “I did tell you I’d be late today.”

“You tell me that you’ll be late every day,” You reply, sliding one final bottle of powdered crystalfly into place, then move over to sit on your front counter. He follows, settling just beside you.

“I have a lot of things that need attending to,” He shrugs, leaning over and snatching your drink without asking. You shake your head, but let him take a sip from it anyway.

His eyes flicker up to look at you over the rim of the mug. “...though, of course, you’re the most important one.”

You laugh and bat at his shoulder. He doesn’t make any effort to avoid it, eyes twinkling as you smile. “Why not come round more often if I’m so important, huh?”

“Do you think I wouldn’t if I could?” He asks with a scoff, setting down the mug and gently nudging you in the side. “We both have jobs, [Name]. We need to actually do them.”

“Oh, I know that,” You return his nudge and hop down from the counter again. Albedo sighs a little at your restlessness, but follows as you swipe the keys from your drawer and open the door again. “But it doesn’t hurt to take a day off every now and then.”

“I’ve already taken far more in the last month than is reasonable,” Albedo says with a shake of his head, stepping out into the street at your indication and waiting as you shut and lock the door. “Grandmaster Jean will get suspicious.”

“Psh,” You dismiss, waving a whimsical hand about and nearly knocking the sign off of your door. “Why is it that you’re not telling her about us, again?”

“She doesn’t exactly like you,” He says, absently linking his hand with yours as the two of you begin walking aimlessly in no direction in particular. He’s removed his gloves, you notice. “You did set up shop without permission when you first got here.”

“Ah, right…” Now that you think about it, you seem to remember her shooting you a rather nasty look when you passed her in the street last week. Why she continues to hold a grudge is lost on you - after all, you did get the necessary documentation and everything eventually… though, to be fair, the method you used wasn’t exactly legal. “...well, forget her. What do you want to do tonight?”

“Hmm,” He swings your linked hands about for a moment. “I saw a lot of dandelions growing just outside the walls earlier. Why don’t we go pick some seeds?”

“If you want to pick dandelion seeds, why not ask Sucrose?” You ask as he begins leading you in the direction of the main gate. “She’s the one with the Anemo vision.”

“Sucrose?” Albedo repeats, turning his head to look at you. His irises almost seem to glow in the darkness of the night, brighter than any of the stars above - it’d be unsettling if it wasn’t so beautiful. “Why would I want to go seed-picking with her?”

You raise an eyebrow. “...well, I’m assuming you need them for an experiment, and Anemo-blown sunflower seeds are always far more effective in that area.”

“If I needed them for an experiment, I’d just buy them from your shop,” He shakes his head. “This isn’t an ingredient hunt. This is different - it’s special.”

“Special how?” You question as the two of you walk through the gate. Albedo guides you over to a particularly thick cluster of dandelions just a few feet away, nestled in a lush copse of grass.

“Special… like you.” He cups both his hands around one of yours, the one that he’d been holding just before, and guides it over to one of the tallest plants. “Go on, show me that trick again.”

You laugh a little at his almost childish inflection, but do as he requests anyway. Albedo pulls his hands away from yours and watches as you carefully pluck off the head of the dandelion without disturbing any of its fluff-topped seeds, allowing it to rest on the tips of your fingers.

“There’s no trick to having a delicate hand,” You say as he watches your every move with the utmost concentration. “It just takes practice.”

Carefully securing the little bit of stem left at the bottom of the dandelion head between your index finger and thumb, you slowly raise your hand so that it’s suspended just above Albedo; he ducks his head a little, closing his eyes as you bring up your other hand to ever-so-gently flick the seeds from the head. The seeds drift about in the still night air for a brief moment before landing in Albedo’s blonde hair; their white colour is barely distinguishable against it.

He opens his eyes again as you pull your hands down again, lifting his head slowly so as not to disturb the little decorations you’ve added to it. “...so what did you grant me this time?”

“A good night’s sleep,” You say playfully. “As the seeds are carried away on the wind, so too will all your worldly burdens be blown away.”

He shakes his head, and several seeds are dislodged by the motion, vanishing quickly into the night. “If only it were that easy.”

“Hey, it worked last time,” You counter, sitting down in the grass. Albedo follows suit, reaching out and plucking a dandelion of his own - though with a lot less deftness than you did.

“That wasn’t the dandelions,” He says plainly, blowing lightly on the dandelion and watching the fluff disperse and disappear into the dark. “I just sleep more soundly when you’re beside me.”

You chuckle. “Sweet talker. So you’d sleep like a baby if I was around all the time, then?”

“Perhaps I would half the time,” He answers, smiling in a way that tells you that he knows exactly how sappy what he’s about to say is. “But I wouldn’t sleep nearly as well for the other half. I’d be too busy looking at you.”

Despite already knowing that it was coming, you can’t help but feel your heart flutter slightly at his proclamation. “I could say the same about. Bet you’ve broken a good few hearts with looks like that.”

“Then so be it,” He shrugs, eye-lids falling a little as he gives you a devilish little smirk. “Yours is the only one I care about.”

“When did you get so charming?” You flick him in the nose, effectively wiping off the smug look on his face. “Have you been studying love poems or something?”

“Love poems aren’t really my area,” He says, drawing back and rubbing at his nose a little reproachfully. “But Lisa and Kaeya have been giving me plenty of tips on my… 'romantic endeavours’, as they say.”

“Those two…” You shake your head. Kaeya and Lisa managed to find about your relationship with Albedo almost as soon as he’d confessed to you, though luckily they’d agreed to try not to mention it around Jean. “Have those tips been working?”

“Isn’t that a question for you to answer?” He picks another dandelion and blows it directly at you. “Is your heart being stirred?”

“Not while you’re blowing seeds into my face, it isn’t,” You shield yourself with one hand, pushing it in front of Albedo’s face to obscure his field of vision. “Quit it!”

He does drop the dandelion at your request, but, unusually, doesn’t give you a verbal response. You’re just thinking that he must be planning something when he suddenly leans forward and kisses the centre of your palm.

You immediately pull your hand back, feeling yourself heat up. Albedo leans forward, cocking his head to the side with a smile. “What about now?”

“You’re insufferable,” is your only reply.

Albedo’s smile turns into another smirk. He knows exactly what he’s doing. “I’m yours.”

“Mine, now? How nice,” You say, still trying to act unbothered. You can tell it isn’t working, though. “Am I allowed to get a refund if you don’t work as expected?”

“Would you ever want to return me?” Albedo counters. You can’t exactly say yes - that’s both mean and untrue - so you just sigh and shake your head. He smiles, clearly pleased.

You’re about to say something else when you hear a series of uneven footsteps coming from the gate. It doesn’t sound like a Knight of Favonius on patrol - in fact, it sounds more like a drunkard.

Albedo shuffles a little closer to you as a figure stumbles out of the gates. It’s someone you vaguely recognise by their green clothes - the bard who often plays in front of the statue of Barbatos. He’s holding a bottle that’s already half-empty, and you have a feeling that he’s already had a lot more before it.

The bard looks over at you and Albedo, and while you doubt he can recognise your faces what with both the darkness and the distance, it’s obvious enough that the two of you aren’t just a pair of good buddies hanging out. He raises the bottle in your direction with a hiccup.

“Wonderful night to meet a lover!” He calls, voice ringing so loudly that you’re sure that he just woke up a few residents of the city. “May your relationship last long as the wind blows!”

He doesn’t wait for a response before beginning to stumble his way across the bridge. As he goes, he exclaims to no one in particular, “The air is crisp tonight! Such good wine - what a wonderful city!”

He quickly disappears into the darkness. You exchange looks with Albedo. “...how much do you think he drank?”

“Far too much,” He replies amusedly. “He’ll regret it come morning.”

“And it isn’t too far off now,” You say, checking your pocket watch. “Will you be heading back to headquarters tonight?”

He considers, then shakes his head. “I don’t have anything that’ll need attention tomorrow morning. So, if you’ll have me…”

He doesn’t finish, but you already know what he’s asking. “There’s always room for you to stay over - you should know that by now, shouldn’t you?”

He smiles a little bashfully at that, and nods. “I suppose so… thank you.”

“You might as well move in at this point,” You comment, shifting slightly on the spot and patting at his arm. He holds his hand out obligingly, and you thread your fingers through his. “You’ve left at least three sets of pyjamas over already.”

Albedo opens his mouth to respond, and you shake your head, placing the index finger of your free hand to his lips to shush him. “Yeah, yeah, I got it, Grandmaster Jean’ll get suspicious…”

He blows on your finger to get you to retract it. When that doesn’t work, he pretends to bite at it, which is a lot more effective. “...I will tell her eventually. Just not now.”

“While you’re on the rocks,” You say with a nod, squeezing his hand. He sighs and nods as well. “But I still don’t think she’d fire you over who you’re dating.”

“Maybe not, but I don’t want to get any more on her bad side,” He mumbles. “She’s still annoyed about that floor I melted.”

“Didn’t you tell her that I was the one who made you drop the potion?” You ask, thinking back to that particular day - when you’d learnt that Albedo is very susceptible to your flirting when he’s in the middle of an experiment.

He shakes his head with a chuckle. “I didn’t think you’d appreciate me tattling. Besides, it isn’t like she punished me.”

“Well, you’re basically untouchable at the end of the day,” You comment, lying back in the grass and pulling Albedo with you. “It’s them who need you, not the other way around.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” He says, adjusting himself so that the two of you are pressed flush against each other. “If I hadn’t started working for them, we’d never have met.”

“We would have crossed paths eventually,” You say, smiling coyly when he turns his head to face you. “Though better sooner than later, I suppose.”

“Far better sooner,” He says, returning your smile with a much softer one. “I’m glad we did.”

Another dandelion seed drifts out of his hair and lands in the grass as you look at him. You'll be keeping this one for a long time, you decide. Probably forever. You like him.

You think he likes you, too.

#unedited #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin albedo #albedo x reader #fluff #i don't know what else to tag #uhhh #sappy #albedo's hair is so hard to draw for some reason #something about the gif for this one feels off and idk what #i'll come back to it later

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wheeier · 3 years

Text

no taking back

summary: it was only fun and games. but steve had other plans.

warnings: modern au, tooth-rotting fluff i guess, little but of swearing

+ olivia rodrigo’s sour album (stream besties), the movie tangled at the end because it just radiates as a comfort movie

yes a modern au !!! i just saw this on tiktok (the sour part, but the rest was my idea!) and thought it was so cute so it gave me an idea to make it as a fic, enjoy !!!

steve harrington x fem!reader

olivia rodrigo’s new album just released and you were thrilled to listen to it and stream it the whole day.

when you finally got to listen to it, you asked your friends—robin, nancy, and the party, if they listened to it and which ones were their favorites.

robin told you that her top three were hope ur ok, jealousy, jealousy, and brutal.

nancy said she really loved favorite crime.

max said hers was also brutal.

el told you that she played good 4 u and traitor on repeat that hopper had to go into her room to turn it down.

when mike comes over to the cabin he can assure that el does indeed play them on repeat and get pissy about it (but he secretly loves the album, but he wouldn’t let her or anyone know that).

and lastly lucas and dustin are fans of deja vu and 1 step forward 3 steps back. max even told you that they would sing the bridge of deja vu on the top of their lungs.

you slightly laughed at the memory of them telling you about it.

however, there’s one more person that you haven’t talked to about it yet.

steve.

your smile faltered and faded when he came across in your mind.

your feelings for him had deepened over the time and listening to the sour album made it feel like you two had broken up, which in fact, is not true because you were never together in the first place.

suddenly, an idea popped in your head. instead of being sad about steve, you thought about texting him, although it’s almost 1AM, you knew he’d still be up.

Sailor Man

You: hey

You: u up?

Sailor Man: duh

Sailor Man: this has been our nightly routine u always bother me when i’m about to go to sleep

You: fuck off

You: don’t pretend that you’re not binge watching outer banks until 4am

Sailor Man: i’m not?!?

You: yeah right

You: anyways

You: can u do me a favor

Sailor Man: will i get free pizza afterwards

You: no

Sailor Man: k

You: what the fuck

You: fine

Sailor Man: hehe

Sailor Man: what’s the favor ;)

You: dont get me started with that winky face i swear ure so dead when i see you at the wheeler’s house tomorrow

You: have you listened to olivia rodrigo’s new album

Sailor Man: ohh the bitter album?

You: ITS SOUR DUMBASS

Sailor Man: I DONT KNOW?!?

You: I CANT DO THIS HJAGSK

Sailor Man: shut up

Sailor Man: i’ve heard some of the songs but i haven’t fully listened to them

Sailor Man: why

You: can you like

You: ask me to be ur girlfriend then break up with me right after so i can experience and actually feel the whole sour album

Sailor Man: what

You: just do it !!

Sailor Man: you’re so funny (y/n/n)

Sailor Man: okay

Sailor Man: will you be my girlfriend?

You: yes !!!

You: ...

You: hello

You: dont tell me u fell asleep

Sailor Man: i’m not doing the last part you might as well forget about it

You: wjat

Sailor Man: :D

You: wtf

You: okay steve cut it out i’m not doing this anymore u’re not funny

Sailor Man: nope

Sailor Man: go to sleep we’re dating now that’s how this works

Sailor Man: okay i dont know if you’re still reading this now and i am terrified to say this to you in person like TERRIFIED. might piss my pants if i did. so (y/n/n), my favorite dumbass, my favorite person to talk to at night even if it interrupts my binge watching marathon, you make me so happy to the point that even when i sleep you’re still in my dreams. i like you. i have like the biggest fattest crush on you. and thank you for doing that sour album thing or whatever, because of that i get to finally ask you out

you rolled on your back after you read the message, facing the ceiling as your mind processed what just happened. was he playing with you? was he actually serious about asking you out?

Incoming video call...

Sailor Man

you took a deep breath before tapping the green button and placing it back down on the bed.

“hey,” you can tell that he was tired based on his voice. “can you show your face, please? i miss you.”

ignoring the butterflies in your stomach, you hesitantly lifted the phone and shifted your position to lay on your side. “hey.”

“hey yourself.” steve grins. that stupid grin that makes your stomach turn, that grin you always want to see everyday.

“what’s..up?” you avoided looking at him and started to admire your surroundings and the posters placed on your wall. this was the only time you were glad you weren’t with him in person.

“i just wanted to see if you’re okay.” of course he will ask that. he's steve. he cares about other more than himself.

“i am, thanks.” you showed a smile that doesn't reach your ears and steve knew something was bothering you. “hey, look. i'm sorry about my confession- if it made you uncomfortable i'm sorry-”

“no,” you cut him off, looking back at his face on the screen. “i’m fine, really. you don't have to apologize. i was just, surprised.”

there was silence between the two of you for a few seconds, before you spoke again. “did you mean it?” you voice was only above whisper but steve managed to hear them. “of course,” he answered almost too quick, without any hesitation. “i've been trying to find the perfect opportunity and had been asking god for signs because i can't make a move myself-”

“asking god?” you chuckled and steve smiled hearing them, glad that he somehow lightened the mood. “well, more like begging.” he continues and you giggled.

once your laughter died you both fell into silence again. you still couldn’t believe that out of a fun joke, it would turn into a whole another situation. “so, um.. just so you know, i’m not mad, or upset, or anything. i really was just surprised. it felt like a dream because i didn’t know that you like me back and all i did was just supposed to be a fun joke but—”

“hold on, back?”

“what?”

“like you back. you said i like you back.” steve sat up on his bed and fixed his hair as his eyes widened. “i did...” you said slowly, not catching up.

“does that mean you..”

then it hit you. “oh, right. yeah. i- i like you..too.” you waited for his reaction and once you saw him smile you couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same.

“i knew it. and well, i guess that confirms it. we’re dating now. no taking back.” he smirks then laughs when your rolled your eyes. “don’t flatter yourself, harrington. i did not say shit.” you pointed your index finger on the screen, barely containing your giggles.

“based on your beautiful smile i think you don’t need to say it. i like you, and you like me. we’re dating.” steve gives you a teasing smile. you tried keeping your serious face but it won’t last longer so you finally smiled again. “alright, fine. no taking backs. we’re dating.” you said then laughed as he whisper-yelled ‘yes!’ while fist pumping the air.

he soon joined your laughter and you stayed like that until your jaw was pretty much in pain because of your smiles. when it was all quiet again, you both just admired each other’s presence through the screens of your phones. “i wish i was there with you.” he mumbles. “yeah, me too.” you hugged your cold pillow beside you, closing your eyes for a moment and imagining it as steve.

“are your parents home?”

you snorted at his random question. “i’m actually alone right now, they’re out because dad got promoted at his work so he and mom and i think a few friends went out to celebrate. they should be home by an hour or two. why?”

“nothing.” was all he said before hanging up. you were left confused but then he’s your best friend after all, so you knew right then and there that he’ll do something stupid. after you turned your phone off you suddenly felt watching a movie so you went to the kitchen to make some popcorn.

when it was finished and had been put in a bowl, that’s when you heard your doorbell rang—in a pattern which you recognize, and only one person does that.

you let out a quiet laugh when you realized who it was and set the bowl on the counter before opening the door.

“hi!” steve greeted you with a smile. “uh, hi?” you laughed nervously and stepped aside for him to go in. “i smell popcorn, are we having a movie night?” he says as he steps inside and shrugged off his jacket. “actually yeah, i’m planning on watching—”

“tangled.” he finishes off, you subconsciously smiled upon hearing your favorite movie. “how’d you know?”

steve snatches a few popcorns from the bowl as you both arrived in the kitchen. “(y/n), you have watched that movie 7 times this week and always gush to me about it.”

“well, you’re the only one that is around my age that i can talk to with that movie. robin and nancy aren’t that into it.” you replied, grabbing the bowl and making your way back to your bedroom, steve following your heels. “and you think i’m the best option to talk to about that?” he asks, plopping down on your bed and resting his back on the headboard.

“you’re not complaining.” you shrugged as you grabbed your laptop and sat beside steve.

“yeah, probably because i like you.” it came out of his mouth casually. you froze in place and felt your cheeks heat up, finally nodding your head slowly, “..probably.” as you typed in the movie in your laptop you felt steve scoot closer, making your breath hitch.

you were both in a comfortable silence while watching the movie, except for a few jokes and comments that steve makes and him explaining how similar he was to flynn rider.

“you know, since i’m eugene, you could be rapunzel.” he suddenly says. you eyes were still on the screen but your eyebrows furrowed. “why? i’m nothing like her.”

finally looking at steve, you almost screamed how he was already looking at you. “oh, you are so rapunzel. you may not have the longest hair in the world, but you are pretty much similar.” he replies, smiling and not taking his eyes off of you.

you paused the movie and shifted your body towards him, intrigued by his explaination. “how so?”

“well, first off,” steve starts, resting his hands on the soft mattress. “you’re both sweet, you’re both a huge ray of sunshine, have gorgeous eyes and smile, and eugene is head over heels over you — and since he doesn’t exist in real life, i’d like to be the substitute.” he finished with a confident smile.

after about three seconds, you burst out of laughter. you laughed. as much as he loves the sound of your laugh, he can’t help but pout. “(y/n), i’m trying to be sweet here!”

“i’m sorry!- it’s just- i can’t help but laugh at your flirting.” you managed to say between your laughs. you know he’s kidding but he looked at you like he was offended.

your laughter died down and held steve’s face. “it’s cute, sorry.” you mumble with a little laugh. when he finally smiled you turned to your laptop and continued the movie.

steve gazes at you for a few more seconds before watching the movie with you again. “thank you.” you whisper, glancing at him.

“you’re very much welcome, my rapunzel.” he says smiling before he slides a bit down on the bed so his head could reach your shoulder and rests it there.

you giggled as you heard him whisper,

“thank you, olivia rodrigo.”

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington fluff #fluff #imagines #stranger things imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things fic #cute fic #i hope you enjoyed help #fluff fic #steve harrington x reader imagine #sour #sour olivia rodrigo #tangled

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jaysbestie · 3 years

Note

ahshshdhsh this is my first time using the ask function in this app and i might as well take this as an opportunity. can you please write about jakey being a hopeless romantic (kinda like f2l thing) wherein they're also classmates and y/n is oblivious af? it would be very much appreciated, thank you~

hi this is a vERY late, I don't know if this is similarto what you wanted, I'm so sorry, but I hope you like it!!

Hoops and Love Letters

pairing ; f2l! basketball player! jake x gn reader

genre ; fluff

warnings ; food

summary ; jake, your best friend since you were children has started making your heart beat fast, little do you know, his is beating just as fast...

"yo jake!"

you were sitting on one of the park's benches with your best friend while eating strawberry flavored ice cream he got for you, when you heard someone call your best friend's name.

"jake!"

it was louder this time, meaning the person calling him was coming closer. Suddenly one of jake's friends, sunghoon, came into view trying to catch his breath while he sat down on the bench between you.

well now that was awkward.

he looked between you two, clueless to the situation you were in and asked,

"did I interrupt anything?"

he asked and to that question, your cheeks reddened as you turned to look at jake, noticing how his cheeks were also light crimson as he opened his mouth to answer his friend's question

"n-no you sure didn't" jake stammered. but jake never stammers?? and you just stood there, a little sad that jake answered sunghoon's question negatively and you just stood there, taken aback by jake's answer and by his stammering.

"it doesn't seem like it tho, anyways, heesung needs you in practice, jay was late and he almost got yelled at" sunghoon started talking without getting a breath, almost as if he was rapping.

you searched jake's face for a reaction and he didn't even look surprised by ths situation going on at the school's gym.

"well, y/n, I'll have to go, sadly, however, ill try to return you your book on saturday on our picnic!" he told you while he got his school bag, from the bench you sat on every day after school, and started walking behind sunghoon to the gym.

"I'll be waiting for my book!" you yelled and screamed, happy that he remembered the poetry book he borrowed from you, two weeks ago. you see, your and jake's bond was something unbreakable, being friends and classmates from a very young age and being lucky enough to be able to continue this friendship till now. you started packing your bag and put the cup from the ice cream in the park's trashcan while going to your house. there really wasn't anyone at home however you prepared your table fully and made yourself lunch. you sat down trying to find a boring enough movie so that you'll be motivated to stop watching it and study or catch a nap.

————————♡timeskip♡———————

it was now 7pm on a friday afternoon and you were currently doing your homework so that you didn't have to do them during the weekend, when your computer started alarming you that there was an incoming skype call by jake. it made you instantly smile and you answered his call watching his face brighten once he saw you had picked up.

"hey"

"hi"

"are you doing homework on a friday night?" he asked, while he looked at me as if I was a weird creature.

"yeah, I don't understand your opposition on me doing my homework on a friday night" you said, the fake offended look on your face made jake laugh and that moment it was like you heard an angel laugh.

"have you prepared anything for our picnic tomorrow?"

oh shIT

you panicked

"I swear to god, y/n y/l/n, did you forget about one of the most important days of the month?" it was his turn to act offended now taking a dramatic pose acting as if he was crying.

you were about to start crying because, hoW. COULD. YOU. FORGET. YOUR PICNIC?!?!

"oH HELL NOH, how could I forget our picnic?!" you stated nervously hoping that he didn't notice the panic on your face when he mentioned the picnic.

"great, I was hoping you remembered about it because, well,,, tomorrow's picnic will be extra special, than just a day on the calendar" he said, he seemed nervous and by his sentence you became nervous too, hoping that something joyful will be behind this "extra special picnic"

"YO Y/N YOU THERE?" he yelled and then proceeded to slap his laptop's screen, just to make sure his computer wasn't the problematical one.

"yeah sorry, my laptop started glitching, see you tomorrow at the park!" you yelled at him and ended the call in a hurry.

you sat up from your desk's chair and walked in front of your mirror

"I now have to go down and prepare for tomorrow's picnic" you said to try and convince yourself to go down and prepare however your plan was interrupted when your phone rang, the name of your other best friend lighting up the screen.

"YANG JUNGWON YOU LITTLE MONSTER" you screamed as you picked up the phone.

" yo y/n what is your proBLEM?!"

"YOU OBVIOUSLY"

"what did I do this time bestie, explain to me please"

"well I was about to go prepare for my monthly picnic with jake but you decided that it was a good idea to call me".

"oooh, jake, the guy that likes you but doesn't know how to tell you"

"plEASE, he doesn't like me, we've been friends for a couple years and he sees me as a good friend"

"ok but like, since yOU like him, why don't you speak to him about it?"

at this point you are heading to the kitchen in order to get ready for tomorrow, since hanging up on jungwon wouldn't happen soon.

"if I tell him I might ruin our friendship, won"

"he likes you too tho, even sunghoon noticed!"

"since when do you hang out with sunghoon?"

"since you were too busy going on dates with jake"

"please, we had study meetings"

"yeah call it whatever you want love"

you tried to respond to jungwon but nothing came out of your mouth so jungwon continued,

"anyways, I'm hanging up so you can prepare for your picnic, by the way, wear those brown corduroy pants I got you for your birthday!!"

"yeah fine, I'll make sure to fill you in on what happened won, good night!"

"night y/n!"

with that you went to prepare some quick snacks for tomorrow and also got some of your favorite jellies from a seven eleven nearby, all because they were also jake's favorite jellies.

———————♡timeskip #2♡———————

you woke up by the sudden sound of your alarm, you didn't even remember setting an alarm but you find have time to worry about stuff like this as you wanted to get up and get ready quickly for the picnic.

your phone rang and jake's number lit up your phone's screen.

"yo jake, bro, homie, fella, how you doin" that was the weirdest thing you've ever, like eVER, said in your life.

"Y/N Y/L/N ARE YOU DRUNK THIS EARLY IN THE MORNING?!"

"of course no jakey, it's 11:29 am, the picnic is in two hours "

" uh uh uh- special picnic" jake emphasized special once again.

" oh well, guess I'll take more time to get ready since its spEcial" you said, mimicking the way he said special.

" I swear to our friendship, y/n, if you're not ready by the time I come to pick you up, consider yourself not my friend" he said sarcastically, adding a laugh at the middle of his sentence.

"oh well, it's your lucky day because I have just started getting ready!" you lied, you walked to your dresser and started searching for that one pair of brown corduroy pants jungwon suggested you wear.

"I'm hanging up jake, gotta go get ready, see you at 1 outside my house!" you hung up without giving him a chance to reply.

bingo

you finally found the pants, searching for a shirt now. you found a white blouse you had got last Halloween for a pirate costume but never wore it. It didn't look like a costume shirt anyway, you shrugged and got into the bathroom to take a shower and get ready afterwards.

You were done with your shower now, the time was 12 pm and you had an hour left before jake got to your place to pick you up.

You put on your clothes and matched a pearl necklace (which was, indeed, a gift by jake) with your outfit, you opted for some classic black converse high tops as for the shoe choice, and with that, your outfit was complete.

You headed downstairs to prepare your basket, full with snacks and fizzy drinks, also getting a light blanket with you, just in case.

You heard a car honk from outside and checked the time, it was 12 : 40, twenty minutes before jake should be here to pick you up. The same honking sound was heard again and you headed to the door to see if it was jake by any chance. It was jake indeed, you got your basket, your keys, sprayed some perfume on and left the house, not forgetting to lock the door behind you.

"well hello there, y/n"

you were ready to tell general kenobi literally at his face, the pun must've been intended as you had a star wars movie marathon some days ago.

"hello to you too, jakey"

You both got in the car and jake turned the music up, a song unknown to you playing on the radio. Jake seemed different today, he seemed nervous, something unusual to him.

"is everything okay jake?"

"yeah why?" he responded while he let out a small laugh.

"oh, nothing!"

The drive went by quickly, however jake had taken you to a place you thought you'd never see again, it was the place where you and jake had first met. A park filled with bushes and sunflowers, huge trees and benches along with wooden tables. You were on the verge of tears, left speechless, you opened the car's door, taking your basket and started running around the park laughing loudly. You were feeling truly happy.

Jake was watching from inside the car, deciding to open his door too, taking his own basket, locking the car and started running towards you.

After running around for some good minutes, you sat on bench and left your baskets on a wooden table, starting to set your food in order for your picnic to start.

You had started eating your second sandwich when jake interrupted you, making you put your sandwich down and turning your attention to him.

"yo y/n, do you remember those love letters you kept on receiving last year?"

"of course I do! I've been searching till this day! but what does that have to with our special picnic?"

"well, I'm the one who sent those letters" jake said, lowering his head and starting to fiddle with his hands.

"well, that was a good one!" you started laughing. Noticing the situation jake was in right now, it only meant one thing, "WAit, you're not joking?"

"not really" he said giggling sadly, lifting his stare and watching into your eyes. You extended your arms and reached out to hug him.

"why didn't you tell me?"

"wait, you really didn't know I liked you? The boys kept on telling that my crush on you was too obvious!" he said, looking annoyed by his friends that moment.

"I mean, you did throw a basket ball at me once that had, "let me take you out" all over it but I didn't think you meant thAT TAKING OUT" you said, laughing at the old memory you had remembered.

well, y/n, would you officially allow me to take you out?" he asked, a glowing happy slice on his face when he noticed your emotionless face, "on A DATE, I mean, not with a basket ball!" he added. With that, you burst into laughter and looked at him, showing him your brightest smile.

"of course I'll let you take me out, on a date, jake"

#bye this took so long to write sorry #enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x reader #jake sim #enhypen jake x reader #hope you like this even if its taken me to long to post it!

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lumosinlove · 3 years

Text

Relic Keel

(Warnings in tags)

part i

Sirius woke up with the sun for one reason only. He wanted to see the far off, white sails of Lupin’s boat.

Some people came to Hogwarts Island for the yearly trade show in Helga. Some people came for the resorts. Some came for the waves, perfect for surfing. Some came for the history.

If Sirius hadn’t already lived there his entire life, he would have come for those white sails. But he’d always been here. This island didn’t let many go. Not even Lupin’s boat truly went. It always stayed in view, never even close to a dot on the horizon. Sirius only ever saw the tourists really leave. And they didn’t count. They were strangers.

Sirius pushed himself up from the mattress he’d dumped on the floor one day and never bothered with again, and glanced at Saint, who had fallen asleep on the porch hammock. A book was clutched to his chest. James got them for him, from the island bookstore or his father’s library. Anything he wanted. He even told Saint to keep them sometimes, but Saint never would.

“If I’ve read it, I’ve got it up here,” Saint would say. “I don’t need people asking questions about how I got them anyway.”

“Tell them the truth,” James would say. “I got them for you.”

Saint would just laugh. Everything about Saint was sunny, all the way down to his honey brown skin and bright smile, his golden hair and his amber eyes. Sometimes his laughs weren’t though. Sometimes things about Saint promised storms.

“Or one of the Gods,”—a Hollow word for Godric’s inhabitants— “could say I stole them,” Saint would always reply. “And it’d be all over from there for this St. Clair.”

St. Clair was the name given to all the kids of the island who didn’t have one. It was the name of Godric’s church and orphanage, and Saint Clair was the saint of the island. They thought they were doing a nice thing, giving orphans a name.

The Hallow called him Saint because he wasn’t one, though, and that was why Saint liked it. He wasn’t a St. Clair. He was no saint. No one was.

“Pretty fun,” Saint would laugh. “To be known for what you’re not.”

“Not to mention,” was another one of his sayings, “I get to go around telling all the people of the island that they can worship me in bed.”

Only Sirius knew his real name.

Hogwarts Island had four neighborhoods. Hot all year round, and just off the coast of Guadeloupe in the French territory of the West Indies Islands.

Your island paradise! said the sign on the main port dock in Rowena.

Sirius had spray painted that sign. More than once. Saint liked to replace the dice with site, just to freak people out a little. The tourists took pictures of it anyway, and then of each other. Zinc covered faces, or barely covered girls on spring break. It didn’t matter. They would all be gone in, at most, two weeks. Hogwarts was small, and the neighborhoods kept to themselves. Tourists were both a part of and outside the dynamic.

First, and northward, there was Godric. Money, money, money. Great manors lined the streets, built in the days of French occupation. They were still mostly filled with the old families—Potter, Lupin, McKinnon, Evans, Deveaux. Sirius always swore that more money went to these peoples’ golf courses and gardens and swimming pools than to food and water. It was also where the main hotels were. Griffin Beach was lined with villas and hotels and resorts, all either pointing outwards towards the endless ocean, or inwards, towards the pools and bars and Gryffindor Golf course.

In the western part of the island was Rowena. Rowena was where the island’s port was. It was where the tourists came in, only to get swindled into paying too much for crappy hotels, for their drinks, and for surfboard rentals.

To the East lay Helga. Anything anyone needed, they found it in Helga. Rows and rows of the finest craftsmen. Helga held the other part of Hogwarts’ main income. What the tourists didn’t cover, Helga’s treasures and their yearly trade show did.

Finally, there was Salazar. The snake of the South, people called it, because it wound all the way out to the skinniest, most pointed part of the island. Salazar was equal part money and dirt. Salazar held more old families, more old money. The Montagues and Capulates, Saint liked to say, the Jets and Sharks. Lestrange, Carrow, Meadowes. Black. The houses, Gothic and looming and built within inches of each other, were the maze of the drug dealers. One quarter of it, at least. Normally, Sirius Black would have nothing but hatred for his home arrondissement, the one he hadn’t re-entered in almost seven years now, for fear of never escaping again, but Salazar had produced Dorcas, after all. And Dorcas was one of Sirius’ closest friends. Doras gave Salazar, if not a redeemable image, proof that it wasn’t a complete hell-hole. There were rarely any cross-over. Godrics stuck to Godric, Salazars to Salazar, and so on. Unless there was trouble.

But then there was The Hollow. It was a sliver of a place, right on the northern-most shoreline. Ironically placed beside Griffin Beach, just outside of Godric. A small slice of land dedicated to…no one really knew who. Runaways, like Sirius? Do-what-you-wants, like Dorcas? Godric-rich-boy-looking-for-a-thrill, like James? Or had you been born there, like Saint?

To the island, they were like the poor of Ancient Rome, slanting wood against the outside of the city’s walls for shelter. But it didn’t feel that way. Not to the people inside.

Some knew what they had done to end up there. Some didn’t. Everyone knew that was it though. You didn’t make it out of The Hallow. Saint liked to say that you had to make it in. Like some A-lister Godric club. A tangle of too low wires, stollen cable, junk yards and thatched, patched houses. More surfboards outside of houses than cars.

They called their little piece of wood leant against the Roman wall Grimmauld Place. Grim old place, in French. Sirius didn’t know why. It wasn’t grim to him. It had always been called that, forever, named by just another somebody that no one knew. A shelter, gorgeous and haphazard, built by different inhabitants over the years, that was half on the ground and half in the trees. Rope ladders, rope bridges. Spirals and spirals of it. Warm, hanging lanterns all the way up into the branches of the biggest oak tree Sirius had ever seen. Like fireflies. None of Godric’s window screen mania. You wanted the sun on your face, you wanted the ocean breeze, you’d deal with a few mosquitoes. Sirius knew that the sun, the sand between his toes, his friends, just a level below…it was worth it. He’d never forget the first time he’d seen it, Saint looking over the railing, much younger, and telling him to fuck off. He’d take it over the dark halls he had grown up in any day.

Sirius planted his feet on the floor and pushed himself up, going to the sink for a glass of water and so he could stare out the window some more. There it was. Sirius loved that boat. The sailor sailed it like they were trying to escape, too. Only, Sirius couldn’t think of a reason a Lupin would want or need to escape. He’d seen their house plenty of times, almost everyday when he went to work at the Potter’s. But that boat…it didn’t fit anything else about the Gods, except perhaps that they could afford it. Sirius loved that boat, he loved its billowing sails, and the looping script reading, Wolfsbane, its name, across the side.

The sky was just beginning to give up dawn, and Sirius wanted to be closer.

He put his glass down and shoved his feet into his flip-flops. Saint was closer to falling out of his hammock now, and dappled in the pale light between palm trees. Sirius gave the hooked fabric a kick, and Saint flailed awake.

“Fucker,” Saint said, one eye open and voice groggy.

“I can’t sleep,” Sirius said. “Let’s go do something.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost dawn.”

It was all Sirius needed to say. Saint threw a hand over his eyes before rolling to his feet and stretching his back. Sirius stared out over one of the railings of Grimmauld and all he could see was ocean. He looked for his boat, his white-sailed perfect thing, and then turned away. He’d have time to watch again at the beach.

The Hollow was grand to Sirius, mostly because it was the farthest away from Salazar that one could get. At this point, Godric, as much as Sirius hated it, felt like a point of protection. If Salazars hated the Godrics, they’d hate having to go through them to get to the Hollow even more. But the Hollow was great for other reasons.

Shack Beach was theirs. No tourists. No villas or hotels that shooed you away from the private bars and lounge chairs. It was empty, and so it was full. And the waves. Oceanic rollers that pushed you up, that let you get your feet under you, or forced you down beneath the surface in a tumble of salt and sand. Not so great during a hurricane, but glorious for this.

Sirius hefted his board under his arm before throwing it into the sand and stretching his arms back, then up above his head. Saint was doing the same beside him, his wooden, sea-soaked cross hanging around his neck.

“D’accord, Black,” Saint said. “Wagers?”

“Whoever gets the most air has to play lookout for Dorcas,” Sirius said. “And dinner.”

“High stakes,” Saint whistled lowly. “Fine.” Saint’s smile was sharp. “Go.”

They took off at a run.

The water, although warm, was the shock Sirius needed. Saint beside him, as always, and the unknown weight of creatures and water below them. It was terrifying and thrilling. The ocean floor was dark this early, but Sirius stared down at it anyway as they sat on their boards, waiting. They didn’t need light for this part anyway. Sirius could recognize the telltale pull of the tides in his sleep.

“Oh,” Saint drew out the sound, tilting his head back. “I feel it, baby.”

Sirius turned wordlessly back towards the shore, Saint following with a flash of a smile, as they began to paddle. Sirius felt the lift, the curl, heard the water begin to rush and rush, faster and faster. The water kissed his feet and hands. Sirius jumped himself up and let out a long whoop, laughing as he gained his footing with a few twirls before pushing himself up towards the crest. He curled around the top of the wave and there was the Wolfsbane again, just for a moment, before it disappeared to the sea again. Sirius, for a moment, had felt like he was sailing beside it, with it.

They could stay out there for hours, always had been able to, but Sirius had work soon. They went until Sirius felt thoroughly salt-drenched, lips parched. Dragging their boards, they collapsed together in a small thicket of palm trees, up the beach a little. It was like a small cave of bark and wind-rustled leaves. There were still a few stars visible, and Sirius closed one eye and connected them with his finger.

“Dipper?” Saint said.

“Just Orion,” Sirius sighed and dropped his hand. “We learned that in school.”

Saint snorted. “When’s the last time we went to school?”

“True,” Sirius laughed, then, “You should steal the Wolfsbane for me."

Saint looked over at him. “What is it with you and the Lupins’ boat?”

Sirius just shrugged. He didn’t know. “I miss sailing, maybe.”

“You know Kris will let you take one of his out at the marina,” Saint replied.

“I don’t want to get him in trouble. He already lends us the motorboat, anyway.”

“You’re all trouble,” Saint said, and then he knocked their ankles together when they had been quiet for a few moments.

“Well?” he asked quietly as the sun began to warm them.

Sirius turned to look at Saint, sand in his hair. He laughed. They both knew what that meant.

“That sort of day, huh?” Sirius said.

“I’m asking for you,” Saint said. “I can go wherever I please, Dorcas has Marlene, but you…” Saint made a tisking sound. “Oh, Sirius Black. You lonely creature of the sea.”

Sirius scoffed. “You’re always so romantic.”

“Come on,” Saint propped himself up on an elbow and pressed a warm palm to Sirius’ bare chest. “It’s nice. It’s nice because we know each other.”

“Why do you always do this to me in public places?”

Saint raised an eyebrow and looked around the empty sands.

Sirius knew Saint could feel his chest rising and falling beneath his hand, knew that if he dragged it down some he would feel Sirius stirring in his swim trunks. Saint was his best friend. It was easy with Saint. There was no risk of losing Saint. Except maybe to Saint Clair, but they never went to Salazar, and Salazar had yet to come to them.

“Come here,” Sirius sighed, as if he was entirely put upon, and Saint made a pleased noise and leaned down for a kiss. He tasted like the sea, salty and smooth. Sirius pressed a hand to his back, coated with sand.

“Sandy hand jobs,” Sirius grumbled into his mouth. “My favorite.”

“There’s no sand in my mouth,” Saint breathed out and threw a leg over Sirius’ hips, mouth moving down to suck at Sirius’ neck. Sirius let his eyes close, hand squeezing around one of Saint’s strong shoulders.

“That’s true,” he said.

The barely there light in the sky cast Saint’s skin in blue, his light curls taking on the color, too as he kissed down Sirius’ chest, whose breathing was coming faster. He bit playfully at Sirius’ hip when he reached the band of his swim shorts and Sirius laughed, hitting his head lightly.

“We gotta go soon.”

“So?” Saint looked up with one of his sharp smiles, his freckles sprinkling his brown skin and honey eyes.

Sirius did love Saint. They loved each other, in their own way. For a long time now, they had been all each other had. Some type of love had to grow out of that. It just had to.

He was warm and felt safe as Saint’s mouth slipped over him, nursing him slowly. Sirius threaded his fingers into Saint’s salt-tangled hair and let his head loll back in the sand.

Sirius didn’t relax often. Saint knew that because he was the same, even if he pretended he wasn’t. The closest Sirius got, besides this, was in the ocean. Something to focus on. Something to look for and be careful about. Something to love.

He breathed out slowly, trying to quiet his mind and pass all his attention to Saint. He was stiffening quickly to full hardness from the wet heat, and his hands in Saint’s hair moved with his movements, sounds soft.

Sirius let himself stare out at the ocean again. The Wolfsbane was filled with wind, the double pontoons tilted so that one was a little ways out of the water. He could only barely make out the sailor’s silhouette. He didn’t know which Lupin it was. They was skilled though, very skilled. Sirius would do anything to have a sailboat of his own that he could take out every single day. He envied the sailor.

It didn’t take him long to come, not with Saint knowing his body so well. Soon, he was open mouthed, back arching as Saint pulled his orgasm from him.

Saint smiled when he leaned back, sitting on his heels and tucking Sirius back inside his shorts. “Worship me yet?”

“Always,” Sirius panted. “What do you want?”

“Have you seen your mouth?”

Sirius hummed and surged up to kiss him before knocking him back into the sand. They wrestled, rolling and laughing together in the dune, before settling with Sirius on top, hands pinning Saint’s wrists.

“Go on,” Saint grinned, then parroted, “we gotta go soon.”

“So romantic.”

Sirius reached into Saint’s suit and took his cock, hot and throbbing into his hands, biting his lip at the way Saint’s mouth dropped open. Saint really was beautiful. Sirius thought there must be something wrong with him to not want him in the way that he should.

“Life’s not too bad,” Saint sighed after, as Sirius rolled to lay next to him again. “Island. Surfing. Sex. We’re basically The Beach Boys.”

Sirius laughed. “Basically.”

Saint made a disgruntled noise. “Is it weird that we aren’t in love?”

“Yeah,” Sirius replied. “It sort of is.”

“Do you wish we were?” Saint looked at his profile.

Sirius returned his gaze, their noses close. He nodded, sand shifting in his ear. “Sometimes.”

“Gosh, we suck.”

“We really do,” Sirius patted near where Saint’s swimsuit was still askew. “Literally.”

Saint let out a loud laugh, pulling his trunks up, and Sirius a long groan.

“Gotta go to work.”

“Poor baby,” Saint said.

“You also have to go to work.”

“Poor me.”

“You also owe me dinner. And your Dorcas’ look out. I won.”

Saint sat up. “Then I gotta go to work.”

Sirius smiled and looked back out over the waves. The white sails were pushing back West, towards Lupin House to dock. He’d have to wait until tomorrow to see them filled and tilting again.

Dorcas slung her backpack on while Saint all but forced the Jeep into park. She hopped out of the door-less side and turned to grin at him, elbows resting against the hot metal of the rusty blue sides.

“One hour,” Saint said, already kicking his seat backwards and pulling out his earbuds. “Then I have work. Don’t think I won’t leave you here.”

“You’re a saint, baby, really.”

Saint flicked his sunglasses down over his eyes. “Don’t I know it.”

Dorcas waved him off before jogging lowly around the back of the McKinnon’s gardens, skirting the gate until she found the bent out posts. She threw her backpack through first, before sliding through herself on her stomach. The manicured grass stained her tank top green in places, but Marlene wouldn’t care. Marlene was an angel. Dorcas was positive.

Marlene’s father, not so much.

Dorcas kept away from the vast windows until she could pull herself up one of the drain pipes that led straight to Marlene’s bedroom window. She crouched, sneakers wedged against roof tiles, and tapped on the glass.

At first, all Dorcas could see through the window was Marlene’s familiar bedroom, the sunlight partially reflecting herself back at her, her chin length dark hair, backwards hat and tank top. In the rest, Marlene’s bright walls, once white but now covered with posters and Marlene’s paintings. Concert posters, random letters from the Hollow’s old abandoned movie theater marque that Dorcas had brought her, and the oil paint in swirling shapes or stroked to form friends’ faces. Dorcas saw her own face many times, and the sight was warmer than the hot sun.

Then, Marlene was there, blonde hair falling over her shoulders. She pressed her forehead to the warm glass briefly before pushing the window, sticking with the heat, open.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Dorcas said.

“D,” Marlene sighed, and pulled her in.

Marlene was an angel. Dorcas was sure.

Saint felt uneasy in Godric. He probably always would. He kept his earbuds in, but tapped off beat and nervously, glancing back at the McKinnon house every once in a while. All these houses looked the same. The lawns were so green that they rivaled the sea, aqua and glimmering in the sunlight. He didn’t like that. He didn’t like the women, seemingly ever out for a morning speed-walk with each other, died blonde hair piled high on their heads, who stopped to ask, Do you do lawns? What about pools?

Saint merely slid his sunglasses off, smiled at them, and they were lost. Their eyes went bright, their mouths giggly. Boy from The Hollow, they would whisper to their friends later, so sad to waste such a face—

Saint had always been beautiful. He knew that. But it didn’t matter so much when you were from where he was. In Godric, beauty was key. Anywhere else, it was a waste.

And then they’d see his neck. The cross with the 7 singed there, hanging around his neck.

Oh, they’d gasp, oh, sweetheart, you’re one of those St. Clair Church orphans aren’t you?

A waste. A waste.

The nuns—waste of space, wasteofspacewasteof—

Saint hated the Godric men, with their linen pants and green juices. Walking their property lines and greeting each other each morning, like Roman elite on their salutatio.

Saint was here for Dorcas, who for some reason had decided to love one of those men and women’s daughters. He could never.

That was the surest way to be a waste. Why love them? Why love anyone who was raised like this? By these people?

There was an excitement that came with The Hollow for the Godrics. A strange fascination, animal and exotic. Marlene, to her credit, didn’t have it. She loved Dorcas, too. James Potter…Saint liked James well enough. But both he and Marlene could still go home every night. They didn’t live it. Not like Dorcas, not like Sirius, not like himself.

Yes, Saint would say. I do lawns. I clean pools.

Saint grinned sweetly. Sultry.

He’d also steal their favorite gold necklace.

“So, Remus, what do you plan to do with yourself this summer, sweetheart?”

Remus looked across the dining room table at his parents. His mother was looking at him expectantly, knife and fork poised, and his mind had still been with the wind and the sea.

“I know the history museum is always looking for volunteers, which looks wonderful on a college application,” his mother continued when Remus had paused for too long.

Remus nodded, hoping to keep his expression pleasant, and cut his pork chop. “Maybe. I was hoping to lean in a little bit of a different direction.”

“Oh?”

“Just sailing, I mean. Racing. There are prizes, some of them with money attached. Good for scholarships, or…”

Remus’ father chewed slowly. “Oh. Well, yes. But you have the mornings to do that. Something more productive with your day, maybe. What are the other boys on the team doing, for example. Maybe ask James or Luke or Thomas. Well, maybe not Luke, given everything that happened this year.”

Remus only nodded again, biting down everything else. But he wanted to race sailboats, run with them, he wouldn’t say. What could be more productive?

“Yeah,” he said instead. “I’ll look into some options around town.”

That, made his mother and father smile.

Julian sat to Remus’ left swinging his legs and looking between them all.

“Can I go out on Wolfsbane?” Julian asked hopefully. Julian, through Remus, had developed an incredible love for Remus’ sailboat and wanted nothing more than a ride.

“Absolutely not,” Remus’ mother said. “Not until you’ve finished your lessons at the Club.”

The Club. Dreaded words. Gryffindor Club, what Remus and Marlene secretly called The Yacht, was the most prestigious private club on the island. You needed a two-member invite. It was beautiful, but it was all walls. Closed off from the rest of the island. People came here, stayed at the club, and didn’t even see. The pools were not the ocean, and the cuisine was not Hogwarts cuisine. Remus wasn’t even sure his parents knew anymore, although he knew they had once. Early on. He didn’t know what had changed. You fall into a crowd, maybe.

He would get Julian out and about one day, when he was old enough. Remus himself spent his time on all parts of the island, in all neighborhoods—almost. He loved Helga more than anything, with its nicknacks and beautiful, dream-like creations.

Except The Hollow.

He’d never gone. Almost, once, on a dare from James when they were thirteen. There were nasty rumors. He’d only seen it from the sea, the deserted sands of Shack Beach and clusters of houses. And the rumors looked true enough. He knew James went sometimes, knew who he was friends with. The only reason he didn’t get shit for it at school was because everyone liked him too much. Remus thought they liked the fact that James could get away with it, too. James could get away with anything. He was a Potter.

Everything except me, Lily always said, and Remus smiled at the thought.

They’d all be out of here in a year anyway. At least for a while. College was like a promise-land. Remus was so sick of this island, but not the ocean. He’d miss the ocean.

The Lupins had been on Hogwarts for nearly one hundred years—a short time, compared to the Evans and McKinnon families. An even shorter time compared to the Potters and Deveaux. One hundred year old new money? Remus thought it was a ridiculous statement but, compared to the other Godric families, they were new. It was relative. Relative money. The Salazar families had been there even longer, Remus couldn’t quite remember their stories.

Remus couldn’t imagine how no one had wanted to go out and see the world. This island was his home. He loved its every shore and nook. But he…wanted. He wanted with the sea and the wind and his Wolfsbane with its twinning pontoons and white sails. It’s tiny below deck cabin that snugged in a bed for nights lulled by the waves. Nothing outside but water and the stars.

After dinner, Remus climbed up the tall, winding stairs to Bane Tower. It had been named by his great, great, great, grandfather, also named Lyall, like his father. A play on words. Lupin, wolf. Wolfsbane. Bane Tower. Sometimes Remus felt like he was just another word game. Remus and Julian. Raised by the wolves.

“It kept him sane, the stars,” Remus’ grandfather had always said. “Quite literally, I mean. Madness runs in our family, Remus. Who knows when it might pop up again. And they kept him almost sane, I should say.”

The stars kept Remus sane, too. They were a map on the ocean, and an escape on land. He didn’t have to think when he looked at them. Maybe that was what was dangerous about them. Hypnotic. Mirrored by the haphazard lights of The Hollow, right along Godric’s shore.

Remus’ grandfather had died of madness. That’s what they said. Remus had watched him go. He missed him.

It didn’t stop Bane Tower from being the perfect place to see the stars.

For Gods, the Potters were good people. Really, for anyone the Potters were good people. They were kind to Sirius, and payed him well. Mostly he looked after their boat, but he would also do chores around the house, run errands for this and that for Mrs. Potter.

It was how he had met James. Really met him. School didn’t count, Sirius had disappeared when he was eleven from his old life and that meant, what friends he might have had at Hogwarts Academy were no more. No one liked a run-away. No one really liked a Black.

The Potters weren’t prejudice. Did they have more money than Sirius could picture? Yes. But they were good. It was the only reason Sirius had even considered liking James again. And still, that didn’t mean he understood why James still hung out with him—them. James was the only one from Sirius’ old life who had decided to reconnect. It was strange. Sirius had nothing to offer him.

It had only gotten stranger when, about two years ago now, he’d brought Lily Evans, who had in turn brought Marlene McKinnon. The boys and the girls had been taught separately when Sirius had still be there, and so Lily and Marlene were vague memories for Sirius. Dorcas—homeschooled—and Marlene were gone for each other almost immediately, and Sirius had theories about Lily and James. None of them had ever brought anyone else, so, Sirius assumed, the rest of his old schoolmates had turned out to be the assholes he expected. Gods in their own territory, up on Olympus, reaping their spoils on the backs of others. Lacrosse playing, secret addicts to something, who drank too much, lived for the summer, and liked boobs more than themselves. Then again, James hung out with those people, too. It was hard to figure out.

But weren’t they all.

“Black!”

James, in all his leather boat shoes and pink swimsuit galore, was jogging up the dock to meet him. Sirius gave a nod, but kept sweeping last night’s rain from the decks, the morning sunshine hot on his neck.

“What’s up?” Sirius said.

“Throwing a party,” James said. “Thought maybe you and your crew would want to come.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “You’re inviting us to a party?” They were famous, Godric’s boisterous parties. Drugs, alcohol, swimming pools, and the ocean. The best mix.

James nodded. “That I am.”

Sirius laughed. “Pots, that place will be crawling with Gods.”

“I thought you liked that sort of thing.”

“Yeah,” Sirius said. “On our turf, where we aren’t so outnumbered that, when the police show up—because they always do—we’re the ones who get blamed just for existing. And for the Crucio that’ll be there—and don’t try to tell me someone won’t bring some.”

Crucio. Hogwart’s powdery nightmare.

“Fine,” James said. “We’ll make it one of yours, then. Your turf, you name the place.”

“Why?”

James grinned. “Maybe I like transcending boundaries.”

“Maybe Marlene wants to see Dorcas.”

“Maybe.”

Sirius straightened and leaned on his broom, looking at James squint at him in the bright sunlight reflecting off his glasses. He was wearing a navy Castle Lacrosse t-shirt that decidedly did not go with his shorts.

“Maybe,” Sirius said. “But it’s gotta be at Shack Beach.”

James whistled. “That’s pretty deep territory. You know Felix will make its rounds.”

Crucio was the island’s greatest gift, and its greatest curse. Some people called it Crucio, some called it Felix. The drug wasn’t very addictive chemically, but its effects were powerful. Sirius had heard that it allowed the user to hallucinate memories. Past, distant or near. It could keep people coming back for more, time and again, hoping to relive things—or desperate to see something different. Crucio wasn’t addicting, but memories definitely could be. Good thing Sirius didn’t value his past.

Sirius stuck to the name Crucio. It was torture to live like that, not luck.

Crucio meant a good and steady cash flow for the suppliers. Like Dorcas. Sirius and Saint basically lived off of her income—not that she could do much without answering for how she accumulated it. It was a strange gift, a tedious life, but Dorcas seemed to like it.

Sirius stared James down. “And if it does, no cops will show up to tell about it.”

“Deal,” James sighed. “You’re fucking hardcore, Black.”

“Sure,” Sirius said.

“Potter,” came a voice from the end of the dock.

They both looked and Sirius stiffened as soon as he did, feeling self-conscious clutching his broom. Remus Lupin and Luke Deveaux were standing there, aviators on and Castle Lacrosse tank tops. Luke’s flashy Jeep was waiting in the circle driveway of James’ house. It was Luke who had spoken. Remus stood a few steps back. With their sunglasses, Sirius couldn’t tell where they were looking.

“Let’s go,” Luke said simply.

Sirius turned away before they could, pushing rain water harshly into the sea.

“Yeah,” James said, voice softer this time. “Coming.”

Pity. Sirius could practically feel it.

“Ten tonight?” James said to Sirius. “Sound okay?”

“Okay,” Sirius said without turning around.

He felt the vibrations of James jogging back down the dock, but didn’t turn to watch the three Gods go.

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theoriginalmysteryincorporated · 2 years

Text

4. Sleepover

i’ve been traveling so this one is a little late, but hope u enjoy nonetheless

Sasha had taken her skateboard to Marcy’s house, rather than ask for a ride from her father and his new girlfriend. There was a whole minefield involved in that situation that she was trying very hard to ignore, which usually ended up exploding in her face, to the surprise of nobody. But in twelve hours, her mom would be home again, and she wouldn’t have to acknowledge that either of them existed for the rest of the weekend.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket as she arrived in front of Marcy’s house, the small fountain outside the door bubbling in time with the incoming call alert. She swiped to ignore it, and then dumped her phone back into her pocket as she kicked her skateboard up by the tail, then slid it under her arm so the bright pink graphic was visible to everybody. Marcy had commented on the messy sketch of the pink flamingo splashed against a black and white background a few times, always seeming to forget that she’d told Sasha the fact about where the color came from the last time she’d seen it.

Marcy opened the door almost as soon as Sasha knocked, and Sasha wondered if she’d been sitting by the window waiting for her. “Sasha!”

“Hey, Marcy,” she replied, feeling her phone buzz again as Marcy pulled her into a fast hug, then into the house.

“You’re the first to arrive. Anne is still at the restaurant finishing up her shift.” Sasha listened as she dropped her board in the usual corner near the door, hoping to avoid Marcy’s parents so they’d stop scolding her about not wearing a helmet. She could hear them talking in the kitchen, and Marcy’s mother called out a greeting that Sasha replied to before answering Marcy.

“I’m sure we can find some fun to get into without her,” she said, retying her hair and watching Marcy eyeing the board, probably thinking again about the algae and brine shrimp that gave flamingos their color, or the fact that they alternated legs regularly, which some ornithologists assumed was to protect them from overexposure to the alkaline waters they typically liked to reside in. She patiently waited for Marcy to make some remark about it.

“...you really should wear a helmet, Sasha.”

Sasha rolled her eyes with a scoff. She recognized Marcy parroting her own parents, and didn’t take the advice too seriously. “Not everyone is as much of a klutz as you, Mar-Mar. C’mon, can we get this party started already?”

Marcy nodded after a moment’s more inspection of the board, and empty space beside it that could fit a helmet. “It’s your call. Anyway, I couldn’t convince my parents to buy us spray paint, but! I sold Vince a paper for English in exchange for his supply. Though I can’t guarantee all of them are actually full. It’s kind of a mystery box deal. Like all the trades you make with Galbosh in the QuarryConstruction graveyard! It was very exciting to be a part of my first underground “black market” deal.”

Sasha laughed softly with a fond shake of her head. “I never expected you to go to such lengths, Marce.”

Marcy made some sort of hand gesture that Sasha vaguely recognized from an old sci-fi movie she’d had her and Anne sit through one time. “Anything for the preservation of the sacred sleepover rites,” she replied solemnly, before breaking into a smile.

Sasha smiled right back. “C’mon, show me what we’re working with.”

Sasha took the stairs two at a time to Marcy’s room, with Marcy trailing behind her. The bag of spray paint was sitting in her gaming chair, the zipper frayed and caught on the fabric. Sasha ripped it open and examined the colors they had to work with.

Marcy sat on her bed. “I think Vince wants that bag back.”

“Trust me, I’m doing him a favor, this thing smells terrible.”

After a moment, she set a can of black spray paint on Marcy’s desk, then a green can beside it. Marcy stood up to take a look. “Where should we go?”

Sasha responded matter-of-factly. “The library.” She didn’t look up until the prolonged silence penetrated her concentration. As her eyes fell to Marcy’s, she was met with surprising discomfort. She lifted an eyebrow, slowly putting down the can of blue beside the green, giving Marcy a chance to collect her thoughts.

“I’m not going to vandalize a library, Sasha.”

The small act of resistance was clearly uncomfortable to Marcy, who often surprised Sasha with her willingness to ignore rules that seemed counterintuitive, oppressive, or obstacles to curiosity. She’d never minded flirting with rule-breaking as much as Anne did, but she was always far more concerned with the consequences than Sasha thought they deserved.

“Relax, Mar-Mar, it was just a joke.” She backed off, slamming down the last bottle of spray paint, a deep pink color with a broken nozzle. “We can just go to the abandoned movie theater again. Nobody will see our tags there.”

Marcy opened her mouth to reply, and then closed it again. After a moment of reconsidering her original statement, she finally said, “I don’t mind if people see it, Sash. But I like the library. I feel at home there. I don’t want to damage it.”

Sasha forced a smile, and wondered how you were supposed to know if a place felt like home. “I get it, Marcy. No library.”

The words felt sharp leaving her tongue, and the quick response got Marcy to go quiet. Sasha bunched her fist, angry at herself for not controlling her temper. Her phone buzzed in her pocket again.

“...I need to take this.”

Marcy nodded mutely, and Sasha excused herself into the bathroom across the hall. She could hear Marcy’s father discussing something in the kitchen, breaks in the conversation suggesting that he was on the phone. For some reason, the low murmur filled her with a quiet dread. She quickly closed the bathroom door, then stared at the notifications she’d been dutifully ignoring since her arrival at the house.

One (1) Missed Call from: father

Text (father): Sorry I couldn’t pick you up. Jess should be there soon.

Heat flashed in Sasha’s cheeks; he didn’t even know she was missing when he’d called. Her eyes darted to the next message.

Text (father): Next time you find another ride, could you let us know, please? Have fun tonight, Sasha.

At least Jess hadn’t tried to call her this time. The last time that’d happened, they’d gotten into an exhausting screaming match that neither one of them had wanted to confess to her father. He was still convinced that Sasha “just needed time”, and that she’d learn to get along with her if she “gave her a chance”. Yeah, right.

She ignored the messages, and ignored the strange flutter in her chest that almost felt like guilt. When she returned to Marcy’s room, Marcy had dumped the spray cans into an old satchel, and was stuffing in a paint-stained t-shirt so they wouldn’t rattle too much.

“Is everything okay, Sash?”

She blinked, then nodded. “Yeah. Fine.” She hadn’t intended on elaborating, and Marcy didn’t ask, but her gaze betrayed a hint of concern, so she sighed. “My dad just wanted to make sure I got here safe.”

She didn’t have to worry about any sympathetic advice from Marcy like she did with Anne. The response didn’t alter Marcy’s expression of concern, but she didn’t pry into her feelings, and Sasha actually felt grateful for that.

“That makes sense.” The expression she said it with contradicted the sentiment, but at least she wasn’t asking any awkward questions. “So, I was thinking that when Anne gets here, we could take our bikes to the park. There are a few lampposts that we could add our names to. It could be an ultra stealth mission, because that park ranger has elf eyes or something.”

Sasha chuckled quietly; he did always seem to pop out of nowhere when they least expected him. “I have a better idea. The park’s right near the bus depot. That’d be even more of a stealth mission.”

Marcy squirmed, but ultimately nodded. “Is that the scare dare?”

“That’s the scare dare.”

“Alright, well, we can make it official when Anne gets here. I’m going to throw an outfit together if we’re really going to go rogue. What do you think, fingerless gloves? I think fingerless gloves.”

Sasha fell into the gaming chair and spun from side to side by the heels of her shoes, pulling out her phone. “Yeah, that sounds good, Mar-Mar.”

Marcy enthusiastically went to work selecting the appropriate outfits for roleplaying a major stealth mission, asking for Sasha’s feedback now and then, which was always tersely supportive. When the time came, she’d just wear the beanie, but for now, there was no reason to quash Marcy’s fun. Anne would help her rebound, because Anne would definitely wear the stupid outfit.

–

Sasha held Marcy to her chest on the back of Domino 2, Anne flying them far from the destruction of the flying palace. She looked so small, now, without the mask of eyes. She still wore the suit with the large, red gash down the middle. Neither she nor Anne had wanted to mess with that until Marcy could tell them if she needed it to live, but it somehow felt like the Core was still watching them.

Marcy slept soundly despite the sounds of bombing and shelling below them as the army surged forward into Newtopia. Sasha was happy her friend was sleeping through all of her worst emotions, which had swirled together into a monstrous, confusing concoction. She was angry and scared, sad and relieved, guilty and happy. She was every shade and spectrum of every human emotion.

Marcy just looked calm.

“...We’re going to get you home safe, Marcy,” she murmured when she was certain that Anne wouldn’t be listening.

She froze when Marcy stirred softly against her, barely daring to breathe.

“Thanks, Sashy.” Her eyes flickered open, but she was too weak to keep them that way, and groaned, shutting them again. “I’m sorry.”

“We can talk about that later. Get some sleep, okay?”

“Okay. Way to pull off your stealth mission, Sash.”

Sasha almost laughed, but it would’ve been too watery. Instead, she leaned down and kissed Marcy’s hair. It didn’t need to be said that she’d learned everything from her friendship with her.

#sasharcy #sasharcy week #sasharcyweek #sasha waybright #marcy wu #my writing

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perriewinklenerdie · 3 years

Text

Married (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale

Word count: 2,4 k

Summary: Parts of Ines’s wedding told from Ethan’s perspective feat. E&C dancing, staring at each other during the wedding, basically being a married couple and everyone calling them out for it. OH3 Chapter 11 added content.

Warnings: None, it’s fluff town all the way

A/N: I feel scammed by PB. All the golden opportunities - wasted. So I fixed it.

His shoes sank a bit in the sand as he began walking towards the venue. More and more people were beginning to arrive, sounds of conversation and laughter increasing by the minute. He recognized his coworkers with ease and approached them. The first to notice him is Tobias, his eyebrow arching slightly at the sight of him.

“You came alone? Where’s Herondale?” he asked, looking over Ethan’s shoulder to search for the blonde resident.

“She helped me fix my tie, then kicked me out of our room. And refused to let me see the dress.” He explained, shrugging with a helpless laugh. Harper laughed along with him, clapping her hands gently.

“That’s wife behavior. Are you sure you two aren’t married?”

“Dude, if you two eloped, I’m not going to be working out with you anymore.” Bryce chimed in, acting as though he was offended, a serious look overtaking his face.

“Where would you- why would you- “ Ethan started stumbling over his words, realizing only after a moment that everyone was smirking at him teasingly. He huffed, fighting a blush that creeped onto his cheeks anyway. “I see. You all think you’re funny.”

“You make it too easy, Ethan.” Harper giggled, shaking her head.

“And we know we’re funny, Ethan.” His mentor put his hand on his shoulder sympathetically.

“Hilarious, even.” Baz added.

A small sound of an incoming message caused everyone to stop talking. Sienna unlocked her phone, her eyes scanning the screen.

“Claire just texted me a photo of her in a dress.”

Immediately, everyone jumped to her side, long before Ethan could even move his finger. Once he woke up from the daze, he took a step towards the young doctor that he considered his friend. Zaid stopped him in his tracks with a hand pressed to his shoulder.

“She said to not let you see the photo.”

“Why?”

Her voice rang from behind him. “I wanted to see your reaction myself.”

Ethan turned around and, at once, his breath caught in his throat. His gaze dropped to her shoes and dragged up her body slowly. The gentle flow of her skirt, pink silk that he knew for sure would almost spill through his fingers. The bodice, snug against her chest, accentuating her curves and making his male brain run wild. Careful to not linger on her chest too long – he would not get crap from their friends for this – he finally looked at her face. She was grinning smugly with a bit of a nervous spark.

He stepped up to her, resting his hand on the dip of her waist, tracing the floral patterns under his touch. With his other hand, he grasped hers in a gentle manner, raising it to press a warm kiss to her fingers.

“You’re taking my breath away.” he muttered, staring at her intensely.

“Hypoxia is dangerous, maybe I should go.” Claire teased, leaning away a fraction of an inch. He immediately pushed on her back to stop her, their personal spaces merging.

“Not having you by my side is fatal.” He dropped his voice to a low rumble, her grin melting into the soft smile. Their lips met in a slow kiss, no heat to it, just pure emotions.

They remained like that for a prolonged moment, his hands carefully pressing her to his chest. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, making their bodies move in a swaying motion.

Jackie burst their bubble. “You, lovebirds, the brides are about to arrive, cut it out.”

Ethan pressed his lips to Claire’s one last time, then leaned away. Their noses brushed against one another as their eyes met. He whispered gently. “I’ll come find you after the ceremony.”

She pecked his cheek sweetly. “Can’t wait.”

He wasn’t particularly a fan of weddings. He wasn’t invited to a lot of them, either. If combined with his dislike for big social gatherings, one would come to the conclusion that Ethan Ramsey was miserable right in that moment.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

As Ines and Angie exchange vows and talk about their love for each other, his eyes find Claire. Sitting in her chair across the aisle, she’s holding Sienna’s hand and passing her a tissue. She’s all anyone could ever ask for, and the mere sight of her makes him fall down into the void of memories.

How far he’s come as a person. A cynic that dreaded what a new year would bring along with a new batch of interns. A man that had only two people in his life that he could call friends. A man that went to the bar every night to forget the day behind him, only to go back to his empty apartment. All of that was so long ago that he barely recognized that version of himself anymore. He was so different now.

He smiled more. Laughed, even, and found that he didn’t find stupid jokes Lahela made all the time half as annoying as he once did. He didn’t spend every waking moment at work. Instead, he enjoyed his time off. Still at a bar, but not to drink away his worries. Not alone – not anymore.

Now, he had someone to come home to.

Claire shook her head as she laughed at what Zaid said and Ethan’s heartbeat quickened. They grew together as people too, and along with that, their relationship evolved.

From the night they spent together in the NICU, when her head slowly fell onto his shoulder and he couldn’t find a single cell in his body to tell him to lean away. Because he wanted her to be close. It was the first moment in which he thought that maybe this brilliant woman was meant to be more to him than just an intern – and right after that, he squashed the idea back down.

Every hold of her hand, every silent sign of support, he cherished it all. Unknowingly falling deeper for the woman that would become the center of his universe before he realized what was happening.

Their kiss in Miami would be at the forefront of his mind in his every living second until he kissed her again. Growing stronger with each time his resolve broke and their lips met, softly or with wild abandonment.

The first time he could call her his – the first time he had her to himself. He knew in that moment that he was ruined for everyone else. No one would ever make him feel that way, ever again. He knew it damn well – and yet, he still fought against it.

Absence makes heart grow fonder. He now knew it was true. Months he spent away from her, keeping her at arm’s length, taught him as much. How could he deny those words when the moment he pulled her closer to him outside his apartment and their lips touched, he felt his mind go blank and his heart stop. He vowed to never let her leave again. To never lose her.

And then he almost did.

The thought alone made his muscles spasm, and he was a millisecond away from running to her side, just to feel her warmth and hear her heartbeat. Leaving her side now, even if only for a moment, even to do their job, caused a silent voice to go off in his head. A wave of panic usually followed, staying with him until he saw her again.

Thankfully, nowadays, she was within his reach most of the time. She never asked why he sometimes needed to pull her close and just hold onto her – she knew.

He felt the corners of his lips rise on their own accord. She was radiant in every second of every day. In that moment, she was the most beautiful person there. The idea that it was him that she continuously chose to be with, day after day, only made him smile wider.

This was it for him. He found his one and only, as cliché as that sounded – he knew it for sure. Guess weddings really did make people reflect on love after all.

Ethan was very much aware of how lovestruck he must have been looking in that moment. With his eyes on Claire, he was a picture of a man in love – and he was finally ready to admit that he was. He loved her.

Almost as though she could hear his thoughts, she turned around to look at him. Their eyes met and a brilliant smile bloomed on her face. His lips moved as he mouthed the words, her smile becoming gentler.

“I’m yours.”

She mouthed it right back to him.

Music wasn’t as obnoxious as he anticipated it to be. That didn’t, of course, mean that he condoned every dance move he saw the guests do. He decided to not complain, though – it was a day to be happy, he wouldn’t bring anyone down with his opinion on their questionable choices of moves.

Currently, he was seated by the table, nursing his whiskey. Mirani twins, Tobias and Naveen sat beside him, all five men watching their colleagues party with wine glasses in their hands.

“How long, do you think, will it take for one of them to break a glass?” Baz asked, leaning out of his seat to see his friends better. Zaid grinned, taking a sip of his drink.

“Any second now. And my bet is on Varma.”

“Why?” Tobias’s face twisted in confusion as he turned towards him, intrigued. Zaid shrugged.

“Because she can.”

Ethan tuned their conversation out, choosing instead to look at his girlfriend. She danced with Sienna, laughing as they sang along to the song. Her dress moved with her, flowing through the air elegantly. He felt the urge to stand up and walk up to her.

“Ramsey, you do know you can just walk up to her instead of sitting here and pining for her, right?” Tobias snickered, punching Ethan’s shoulder playfully. He scoffed, leaning away with a hint of a burn in his cheeks.

“I’m not pining for her.”

“You are.” All four of his companions replied.

He was so distracted by their words that he failed to notice an approaching form. Her hand landed on his shoulder softly, the tips of her nails scratching the back of his neck. Knowing who it was, he leaned into her touch, breathing out deeply.

“Sorry, gentlemen, but I’m stealing him.” she mused happily, dragging her hand down his arm until her fingers tangled with his. Ethan let her pull her up, looping his arm around her waist.

“Stealing is bad, Herondale.” Tobias shot back, moving his eyebrows suggestively at the couple. Claire opened her mouth to speak, but Ethan beat her to the punch.

“She can’t steal something that’s already hers.” He grinned at them, then turned towards her. Claire’s jaw dropped in surprise at his boldness, her posture softening enough for him to pull her away from the table, smirking. Faintly, he heard Tobias’s words.

“Married. For sure.”

Ethan’s arms wrapped around her, fingers hooked onto her hipbones. She threw her arms around his neck, staring up at him with a soft smile. A slow song began playing and one look at where the DJ was situated told them who was behind this change. Ines grinned at them, giving them thumbs up and a cheeky wink.

“Is it just me, or is everyone trying to tell us something?” Claire giggled, nuzzling her nose against his jaw. He kissed her nose gently.

“So, you noticed it too?”

“Kinda hard not to. Girls said we’re acting like a married couple at least twice today.” she traced the lapel of his jacket, laughing quietly at the recognition in his eyes.

“Guys did it too.” Ethan muttered, tightening his hold on her. She laid her head on his shoulder.

“And how does that make you feel?”

He was silent for a long while. They swayed to the song, tuning out everything else. To her surprise, he didn’t tense up – nothing about his posture spelled out the doubts he once told her he had.

“Not as terrified as it did before.”

Claire leaned back to look at him. Their eyes met, tender understanding in them. Ethan leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss, perfectly soft and not nearly deep enough. She clutched his lapel in her fist, creasing the fabric with how strong her pull was. His fingers dug into her back, skipping past the coarser material of her bodice and gripping the soft silk of her skirt. A voice in the back of his head told him to loosen up the hold or he’ll mark the fabric, but the overwhelming need he felt for her overshadowed everything else and he couldn’t bring himself to let her go.

The song ended and with it, their kiss. Foreheads pressed together, they caught their breath, standing in the middle of the dancefloor. Blissfully unaware of how much attention they gathered with their tender moment.

Ethan opened his eyes and finally allowed his mind to register the music again. Some sort of a fast tune that made people around them go mad. His girlfriend stared at him with an unspoken question, and he got the meaning perfectly well.

With a definite move, he dipped her onto the floor. She giggled, the sound breaking through the loud music to reach his ears. Ethan smirked, throwing her back into his arms. With his lips against her ear, he mused hotly.

“I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

Her leg wrapped around his thigh, pushing their bodies closer. His voice broke off and his breath shuddered at the way their bodies clashed and the suggestive smirk she sent his way. His hand fell to her ass, all inhibitions gone.

“Ethan!” she exclaimed, laughing at the carefree smile he gave her. He moved his hand a bit, albeit begrudgingly.

“Can you blame me? You’re irresistible.” He muttered, kissing the shell of her ear. Claire hummed, then twirled out of his hold and back into it, jumping into his arms with her legs wrapped around his hips. Ethan groaned deeply in his throat, making her smirk.

“I have a few tricks up my sleeve too.”

Notes

This is a part 2 to the Mile High Club fic. As I said, PB could have made the chapter so good with all the wedding themes that I’d lose my wig. Writers apparently don’t know how to do basic research into fiction themes, but that’s okay (kinda). It just means I have more material to work with.

Round two smut is coming soon.

Thank you for reading! <3

Tagging separately

#ethan ramsey #open heart #playchoices

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nxrthmizu · 3 years

Text

love in bubble wraps.

fandom | haikyuu!!

pairing | kuroo tetsurou x reader

genre | fluff

w.c | 1.9k

author's note | based on a real life experience... :)

Love, you think, comes in many forms. Sometimes love is a warm, home-cooked meal that is now cooked at least once a week because you told your mother you liked it. Other times, love is laughing and crying alongside the friends you’ve known since pre-school because everyone passed their highschool finals with flying colours. Throughout our lives, we gradually come to meet the different forms of love, because it comes in all shapes, colours, and sizes.

First, we learn that love is a roof that you can always turn to when a storm blows in. Then, we learn that love is knowing that there are people who will drop everything to help you when your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. Lastly, we learn to interlock our fingers with the one we wish to walk to the end of time with.

Then again, love varies from person to person— Just like how the goddess of love, Aphrodite, looks different to every soul that sets its sights on her; Beauty truly lies in the eye of the beholder. For some, love comes in the form of a warm body to cuddle next to on a rainy day. For others, love comes in the form of a jewelled ring. For you, love comes in the form of a 6’2 man who still doesn’t know how to tame his bedhead.

Tetsurou is often too busy for his own good, always running around here and there to secure contracts, ensuring that Japan can make a name for itself during the Olympics. He books train tickets to opposite ends of Japan at least once a month, leaving before the sun rises and returning after it sets. The sun never dictates his work day, because while his coworkers work from nine to five, Tetsurou works until he finishes his tasks.

Okay, so your husband is a bit of a workaholic. And maybe not just a bit.

“L/N-san,” Your colleague asks one day out of sheer curiosity. A group of women are gathered around the snack station, sipping on cheap, machine-produced instant coffee as they gossip about their marital lives instead of working. “Now that I think about it… I’ve never met your husband, have I?”

“Ah,” You sweat-drop nervously at this. Wonderful— Your parents are already pressuring you about how Kuroo rarely visits with you— And now your coworkers, too? “He’s quite busy. He works very hard to make sure that we’ll be well-off in the future.” You respond, knowing that your reply is just a thinly-veiled way of saying ‘He’s rarely home,’.

“Oh, that’s awful,” Wherever you go, there’s always a middle-aged lady who has nothing better to do than to prey on the weak spots of your life, “It must feel lonely. You must feel so sad when you see my husband pick me up from work.” A smirk dances up her lips as she waits for you to walk into her trap, smiling as widely as a spider watching its incoming meal.

“Not really,” A practiced smile counters hers as you take a sip of your coffee. “I know Tetsurou loves me— There��s an unbreakable trust between us. He might not be home often, but I know that he’s working hard so that we can have a better tomorrow… And that’s sort of comforting, in a sense. Knowing that Tetsurou wishes for a future where we’re financially stable, where we can just spend a whole day doing nothing in each other’s presence…”

A chorus of ‘awws’ makes you blush. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the middle-aged coworker huff in failure. You mentally fist-pump the air at your victory.

“Anyway, I heard that you got engaged last weekend, Shiho-san,” Changing the topic quickly, you smile when the attention of all the ladies instantly redirects to the said woman, who blushes fiercely as they all coo at her ring. “Congratulations!”

“Oh my! He bought you such a beautiful ring… Ah, Shiho-san, you’re so lucky!”

“My husband also bought me a new bag last week,” The middle-aged woman chips in proudly, cocking her head towards her cubicle, where the leather handbag sits atop a tower of documents. “It’s very expensive.”

“That’s nice of him! It’s been forever since my husband bought me something.” Sighs another lady. Most of the group hums in agreement, sharing sympathetic looks with those that share the same fate.

“At the beginning, when we were still dating, Hayato used to buy me so many things, now…” The coworker that brings homemade cookies every New Years’ party says, looking dejected. “It’s like once we’re married, they don’t have to worry about making us happy anymore…”

“Ah, what about you, L/N-san? Does your husband buy you things often?”

You groan internally when the attention shifts to you once more. Honestly, you’re just there to listen and enjoy your coffee— Must you keep getting dragged into the conversation? “Well, personally I don’t really need my husband to buy me things to keep me happy, but… He does bring back trinkets whenever he travels.” You think about it for a while, then brighten when you remember the latest thing Tetsurou brought back for you.

“What is it?” Your change in expression isn’t missed by your coworkers, who preen with curiosity, excited to know what made you brighten up.

“Ah, it’s nothing… I promise, you’ll be disappointed if I tell you.” You chuckle.

“Come on!” “Be a good sport, L/N-san!” “We’re curious now, you can’t not tell us!”

“Oh, fine.” You sigh, “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

[ Three days ago, Saturday ]

You were on the couch, binge-watching Grey’s Anatomy with the Netflix subscription Tetsurou got for you to occupy yourself with while he was out of town. Your cat, Kazume (nicknamed after your husband’s best friend) lazed on your lap, yawning once in a while and swatting at the stray threads from your sweater.

Somewhere in between your fifteenth and seventeenth episode, the front door chirped with the sound of someone inserting a key into the lock. You perked up at the noise, Kazume yelping in protest as he almost slipped off.

“Oh, sorry Kazu.” You said quickly, a smile widening your lips as the front door opened.

“I’m ho—” Before your husband could finish his sentence, you were already at his side. Kazume meowed loudly from the couch, complaining about you abandoning him for another man. Tetsurou’s eyes softened, the edges of his hazel irises worn down by exhaustion. You took his laptop bag from him, as well as the folders he has in hand, balancing them like how you would balance your three grocery bags when Tetsurou wasn’t around to help. “I missed you too, but are you sure you can carry all of my files with one hand?”

“Yes!” You replied confidently, showcasing your balance as you wobbled through the living room with all of your husband’s stuff. Tetsurou’s laugh echoed through the apartment as he followed you, his reflexes coming into play as he dived for a falling file. “Oops.” You giggled, helping him up after he practically hurled himself at the floor.

Tetsurou shook his head, sighing fondly while he hugged you from the back, taking comfort in the familiar smell of your hair shampoo. “I missed you.” He mumbled.

“Me too.” You hummed, reaching back to stroke your hands through his still-untamed bedhead.

“Oh, before I forget,” Tetsurou leapt up suddenly, chucking his backpack onto the ground. “I brought back something for you!”

“I already have like, twenty-five keychains from Hyogo,” You reminded him, “Please tell me it’s not a…” Your voice trailed off when Tetsurou proudly whipped his gift from his backpack, hazel eyes shining for your reaction.

“... So?” Tetsurou grinned widely, like a five-year-old child holding up his drawing for his mother to critique.

“Oh my god, I love you.” You declared in your 80 sq ft kitchen, grabbing the gift from him. “I’ll clean up your stuff, go take a bath and we can have dinner while watching the…'' You pursed your lips as you try to recall the information that kept evading you like an annoying fly. “... 15th? 16th episode of Grey’s.”

“You started that without me? I said I wanted to watch that.” Tetsurou pouted petulantly like a child.

“I finished all the other stuff I wanted to watch,” You told him unapologetically. “And Kazume wanted to watch it too. Now hurry and take a bath or I’m starting without you.”

Twenty minutes later, you were cuddled up to your husband, who did not bother to comb his hair (“It’ll just be messy later anyway,” His reasoning was). Every few seconds, he would scoop some cold mash potato out of the giant bowl (The two of you were too impatient to heat it with the microwave) and feed you. All throughout the episode, there was the constant pop-pop-pop of you working your way through the giant piece of bubble wrap Tetsurou had brought home for you.

“You know, I was thinking,” You hummed as Tetsurou pressed ‘Next Episode’. “If It were any other woman, they might have slapped you for bringing just bubble wrap home after a whole week away.”

“Well, then I’m lucky that you aren’t ‘any other woman’, am I?” Your husband smiled, pressing a gentle kiss onto your lips before picking up the mash potato bowl again. “Are we just going to have mashed potatoes for dinner?”

“I bought spicy instant noodles yesterday, we can have that later if you want.”

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[ Present, Tuesday ]

“That’s actually so sweet of him!” Your colleague coos as you finish your story. “Wish I had a husband like that…'' Even the middle-aged lady begrudgingly nods in agreement. For a moment, you feel a surge of pride— It was your husband they were talking about— Your sweet, hardworking, dork of a 6’2 bedhead.

“You wouldn’t be able to survive.” Another lady snorts. “That guy is away for weeks at a time.”

You hum. “Well, at least he calls back every night, regardless of how tired he is.” In the corner of your mind, you remember that he makes sure to call his grandmother every weekend, and that he sends his parents (and grandparents) money every month, that he visits your parents the first Sunday after he’s back from his trips— Not to mention that he always brings a gift of wellness products (The most recent one was a box of abalone).

The group of women swoon once more.

“Well, I guess we should get back to work,” You dispose of your paper cup in the trash, brushing your hands off. “See you ladies later.”

The moment you’re back at your desk, you take out your phone to text your husband, who is, no doubt, going to be very, very confused.

[ y/n ] 2.37pm

— we have a problem

[ tetsu <3 ] 2.39pm

— what’s wrong???

[ y/n ] 2.38pm

— i may have accidentally caused 20 women in my office to fall in love with you

[ tetsu <3 ] 2.38pm

— what ???

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you know it's love when your dad comes home with this giant piece of bubble wrap and your mom literally squeals and snatches it to immediately start popping it on the couch while browsing facebook on her ipad

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader fluff #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou x y/n #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x you #kuroo tetsurou fluff #[ris writes]—✧

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lastbluetardis · 3 years

Text

Sacred New Beginnings (1/?)

Summary: James Noble thought he traded away his chance at love and a happy-ever-after when he signed a contract with a record label that turned him into an international celebrity. But a chance meeting in a dive bar may prove him wrong.

Ten x Rose AU, @doctorroseprompts

This Chapter: Teen, ~5500 words

Note: Er... surprise? This idea has been in my head for months but my brain took it and ran with it this weekend. I plotted the whole thing and am gonna try to update every weekend. I don’t anticipate this being more than like... 7-10 chapter? I’d love to keep it under 5 chapters but that might be trimming things down too much for my liking. Anyways, I really hope you enjoy this little story!

AO3

Flashing lights and shrieks of his name greet James the moment the back door to his armored car is opened. His head of security ducks out first and James can only see a mass of feet and legs but it’s more than enough to let him know it’s a heavier than usual crowd. Not surprising, considering the news of his latest break-up just dropped while he’d been flying back from a visit to America.

He slides out of the car, helped by hands that pull him as much as guide him through the throng. He ignores the shouts of his name—telling him to look left or right or up or down or every combination therein—and the barrage of questions and jokes that aren’t funny.

Was it you or him that ended it?

Three weeks, is that a new personal record?

Another notch in the bedpost, eh James?

Got another beau lined up yet?

If you’re looking for candidates, what do we have to do to get our names in the running?

“Ignore them,” he mutters to himself, too quietly for anyone except his security team to hear.

In answer, one of them gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze as they reach his front door. Someone has already unlocked it for him and the darkness within is a blessing he’s all too willing to be shoved into. The cacophony muffles once the door shuts, and finally he’s alone, a rarity for him. If it’s not his security, it’s personal assistants and writers and producers and photographers and the paparazzi.

Or his lover of the month, as the papers have taken to calling his partners.

But nope, his home is empty and quiet and bloody freezing. A shiver ripples up his spine as he treads to the thermostat controller. Summer finally released its hold on London, and the muggy heat has been replaced with a damp chill that burrows down into his bones.

Several button-presses later, James hears the familiar clank of the radiator and he can smell the heating kick on. It’ll take a while for his house to warm up, so James keeps his peacoat on for the time being as he putters around his home, checking the fridge and the cabinets. As always, they’re well-stocked. He hasn’t had to do anything as mundane as grocery shopping in the five years since his YouTube channel full of acoustic covers of popular songs went viral and landed him a lucrative deal with a prestigious record label. Only in his wildest dreams had he expected to find fame and fortune in the hobby he loved so much—for it to have actually happened still took him by surprise, as though any minute he’d be told “it was fun while it lasted, but it’s time for you to leave wonderland now.”

Shaking his head of those thoughts, he goes to the antique dining table that can easily seat ten people, which is great for holidays or in-home meetings, but just plain depressing every other day of the year. A stack of mail has piled up, and he spends the next five minutes attempting to sort it before giving up and telling himself he’ll look at it in the morning, once he’s not quite as groggy—transatlantic flights always take it out of him.

Instead, he rootles around his fridge until he comes up with the necessary items to make himself a ham and cheese sandwich. With the prospect of food in front of him, James realizes he is starving. He shoves a whole slice of ham in his mouth while he assembles his pitiful meal, heaping on lettuce and sliced tomatoes as though that’s enough to negate the pile processed protein and greasy chips he layers in for crunch.

It’s tastier than any sandwich as a right to be, and he nearly makes himself a second one before catches sight of his phone screen and the slew of incoming notifications. His work is never finished, is it?

There are several texts from his publicist, Donna, welcoming him home and congratulating him on not making an arse of himself just by trying to walk up the front drive of his home. (To be fair, he felt entitled to channel his inner crotchety old man and tell reporters to get off his damn lawn if they encroached on his personal property.)

“Though some photos are surfacing of your trip to New York… Anything you need me to get ahead of?”

He rubs his fingers into his eyes, knowing she’s probably referring to his last night out in the city, where he went bar hopping until the wee hours of the morning to try to forget the text his subsequently-ex-boyfriend had sent him.

Thanks for everything, but I need to focus on my career. Cheers mate.

The career that James had kickstarted for him by introducing his rising actor boyfriend to several of his friends in the film industry, because James had been so damn desperate for affection that he’d once again let the wool get pulled in front of his eyes.

And so James had reached out to mates who lived in New York and they’d all gone out and acted half their age and had a wonderful time once James forgot about why he’d gone out in the first place.

But none of that now. Nope. No sir.

“Not that I’m aware of,” he replies. “Let me know if you catch wind of anything.”

Despite the fact that he only just got home and he’s jetlagged and still feeling the effects of his night out in New York, James can’t stay in his house right now. It’s so quiet that his brain is creating its own white noise. He can’t stand being in his head on a good day, and today is not a good day.

He grabs his keys and wallet and makes for the back of the house. His property is landlocked with the back gardens of other houses; the paps have learned the hard way that James is dead serious about protecting his neighbors’ privacy and will not hesitate to phone the police to arrest and sue anyone caught trespassing on private property to snag a photo of him. James hosts dinner for his neighbors several times a year and buys them gifts any chance he can to show his appreciation for their patience and tolerance.

In the dead of night, he slips out into his back garden, the crisp October air burning his lungs in the best way as he ducks his way through the neighborhood, his feet taking him far away from the crowd of reporters that are still stationed in front of his own home. Hopefully they’ll all have dispersed by the time he gets back. Perhaps he should have turned on music or a movie or something, made them think he was settled in for a lazy night in.

He wanders aimlessly for a while, enjoying this taste of freedom and trying to remember the days when he could leave out the front door of his flat without any fanfare.

It’s dark, and thick clouds obscure whichever moon phase they’re in, but the street lamps glow yellow on the damp pavement, lighting his way forward. A crisp autumn breeze ruffles his hair and the leaves, sending them tumbling around him and skittering across the residential street that’s so much quieter than the bustle of New York. It’s good to be home, though.

He arrives at a bus stop and catches one headed into the city proper. It’s no secret that James lives in London, and therefore the general population has gotten used to glimpsing him on the tube or walking on the street or frequenting pubs. He knows people snap quick photos of him, and he’s always happy to stop and pose for a selfie with respectful fans, but mostly he’s left alone when he’s out by himself like this.

Nevertheless, he hears the excited undertones of people trying to inconspicuously point him out to their oblivious friends. He keeps his head down, mindlessly opening and closing apps on his phone for something to do as he pretends he doesn’t notice them. He won’t be on the bus much longer anyway.

Several people get off the bus with him, including a group of teenage girls who are whispering heatedly among themselves. It’s almost funny, watching them debate amongst themselves before one of them approaches him.

She’s red-faced but determined as she blurts, “Can we get a photo?”

“Sure thing,” he says good-naturedly, inclining his head for them to come closer. “Need me to take it?” He holds out a lanky arm and flops it around a bit. “Got a longer reach than any of you.”

He’s certain one of the girls is about to start crying with joy as they all nestle into his side and hand him a new-model iPhone. Damn, it’s fancier than his own. When he was their age, he had an old flip phone that lost reception if he breathed on it wrong. It was a tank though—he’d dropped that thing hundreds of times, and nary a scratch.

“Do me a favor,” he says, handing the phone back to its owner, “and don’t ping our location if you post to social media, yeah? I appreciate it.”

“You’re my favorite person ever,” one of the girls squeaks.

His face splits into a grin and he tucks his hands into his pockets. “Is that so?”

The girls spend the next five minutes chatting with him about music and how they’ve been following him ever since his YouTube days. He listens and chimes in every now and then when they ask him a direct question, but he prefers being passive in exchanges like this, content to hear peoples’ stories. It makes him feel normal, if only for a little while.

Finally, they take their leave, and James turns in the opposite direction even though the destination he had in mind is down the street the girls had just taken. But he’s been burned far too many times by encounters with seemingly innocent fans, only for them to begin following him around and showing up outside his house to talk to him again. He makes a point of not drawing out public encounters with his fans.

He wanders down a street he’s vaguely familiar with, figuring he can backtrack in a couple blocks. The night is too beautiful for him to be upset about needing to take a detour.

Everything looks different in the dark, the glow of neon signs bathing everything in hues of greens and blues and pinks and yellows. Shops and restaurants are mostly shut up for the night, their windows dark or blinds drawn. Dingey motels with pay-by-the-hour rates are in full swing, as are the pubs that have a revolving door of people in varying states of intoxication.

Deep bass that he can feel all the way in his chest catches his attention, and he gets turned around a few times, but he eventually finds the establishment: Bad Wolf Brews. At first, he doesn’t think it’s open, and that he must be mistaken about where the music is coming from, but the heavy front oak door opens, and he realizes the glass on the door is tempered so that the interior lights don’t shine through. The music is clear and heavy and vibrating in his bones. He doesn’t think twice before catching the door before it closes and slipping inside.

The air is humid and smells of sweat and stale beer. Bodies are writhing and gyrating to the rhythm blasting through invisible speakers. The acoustics are phenomenal; none of the layers are lost and the sound quality is nearly as good as if he were listening to the record at home on his own stereo system.

The lights are low, and he’s sure he trips into a few people in the minute it takes for his eyes to adjust to the dimness, but finally, he’s at the bar. There are three open stools, and he claims one between a blonde woman and a red-haired man as he wonders what the hell this dive bar serves. He can see beer taps, but he’s more of a cocktail guy. He must look as lost as he feels, because the bartender hands him a menu that looks like it was hand-written and then photo-copied. It jives with the overall vibe of the pub.

The bartender checks in with him a minute later. James opens a tab and orders a sidecar sans sugar, and is pleasantly surprised by the quality. Not to make assumptions, but he’d figured an establishment such as this would have cheap liquor. If the alcohol in his drink is cheap, it’s well masked.

When he’s drained the last drop and about to signal for another, a hand rests on his shoulder. “Can I buy your next round?”

James looks up into the face of a stranger. It’s a woman with striking green eyes and a disheveled pixie cut. Judging by her crimson cheeks and glazed eyes, she’s three sheets to the wind. There’s buzzed, then there’s drunk, and then there’s plastered. He prefers not to let himself get to that last category, and by extension, he doesn’t really like to associate much with people who won’t remember the night come morning.

“Thanks, but I’m good,” he says with his most charming grin. “G’night.”

He has no idea if the woman knows who he is, but the way she shrugs and saunters to the gentleman sitting beside James, he doubts it.

He gets clumsily propositioned a few more times and always politely declines with a smile. So far, nobody here seems to recognize him and he is going to ride out this anonymity for as long as it’ll last. It has been too long since he’s been able to sit in a pub and drink quietly. Well, quietly, insofar as crazed fans or paparazzi aren’t harassing him—the music is loud enough that he’s sure to have ringing in his ears for a few hours once he gets home.

But he’s not really in any rush to get home, and so he orders his fourth cocktail before making his way to the loo. Alcohol goes right through him, and it’s nearly gotten him in trouble on tour a time or two.

There’s no line, but the loo is crowded, and he tries to ignore the double-takes as he stands in front of a urinal to take care of business. If he wakes up tomorrow morning to find that someone snapped a photo of him having a piss, he’s going to lose his goddamn mind.

Bladder tended to, James keeps his head ducked and shoulders his way back into the bar. His stool is unoccupied, and when he steps forward, he realizes why. A purse sits on it, seemingly reserving the seat but he can’t figure out for whom. He’s about to take the cocktail the bartender hands him and stand against the shadowed wall when someone picks up the purse.

It’s his blonde-haired stool mate. She flashes him a broad grin that lights up her entire face and squeezes something deep in his stomach.

“Saved your seat for ya,” she says with the ease and confidence of someone who’s known him his whole life.

“Thanks,” he manages through a suddenly dry mouth.

Feeling like an idiot for standing and gaping, he slips into his seat and downs half his new sidecar in one go. It’s as though the ice has been broken now, and she turns to him, her elbow on the counter and her cheek propped on her fist.

“Pretty sure you could outdrink a fish, mate,” she drawls, smiling again in that easy way that does too many strange things to his insides. “You’ve been knockin’ ‘em back for over an hour now.”

Has it really been that long? James checks his watch, and yup, it’s half past ten. The paps should be gone from his house by now, but he feels no draw to leave this place. The alcohol has left him pleasantly tipsy and warm, but he’s more drunk on the fantasy that he’s just a normal bloke having a nice night out in a newly-discovered dive bar.

“Fish don’t really drink though, do they? They absorb water through their gills via osmosis,” he replies, and he wants to bite his tongue off because what the fuck was that??

This woman, whatever her name is, doesn’t seem to mind his answer though, because her face scrunches in a giggle. His body is hot and throbbing with more than drink now, and he wants to hear that sound again but his brain has stopped working.

“Is that so different from you absorbin’ alcohol through your bloodstream?” she muses, finishing off whatever is in her short tumbler.

“Can I buy your next round?” he blurts rather than responding to her question, which he’s almost certain was rhetorical.

Her smile melts into something softer, something private and a little shy. “If you’d like.”

“I do.” He flags down the bartender and glances at his new companion expectantly.

“Gin and tonic,” she says. She thanks the bartender, then James when she takes her first sip. “I’m Rose, by the way.”

“James,” he says, feeling stupid because his face is plastered all over London, which likes to boast that it’s the home of international celeb James Noble. But wouldn’t he seem more of an arse if he just assumed this gorgeous woman knew who he was?

Nevertheless, his stomach sinks a bit when she snorts into her drink and says, “I thought it was you.”

“Yup, it’s me,” he forces, his voice flat. He hides his frown with his glass, knocking back the rest of his sidecar like it’s a shot. The room sways slightly with the violent motion of his head, and maybe he’s slightly drunker than he’d thought.

If Rose catches on to his sudden sour mood, she doesn’t mention it. “What brings you here to Bad Wolf?”

He shrugs and blows out a noisy breath. “I dunno. Went for a walk, ended up here.”

“Those are the best sort of adventures.” She hums wistfully. “Sometimes you find what you didn’t know you needed when you let yourself get lost.”

That observation is far too astute for his current state of mind, so instead he says, “Would you like to dance with me?”

Her eyes flicker across his face for a brief moment before she says, “Okay.”

He hops down from his stool, but Rose hesitates, clutching her purse and coat awkwardly. The bartender helpfully tells her to keep them on her stool, and he’ll keep an eye on it. Rose flashes him a grin that James would rather she flash at him, but he realizes that is utterly absurd, so he simply rests his coat on top of her things to better hide them from view. He then holds out his hand for her. Her palm is soft and warm against his as he leads her to the crowded dance floor.

They find space towards the back of the pub, hidden in the shadows of a hallway that states it’s closed off to patrons. And of course, of fucking course, right when he rests his hands on her hips to find the rhythm of the song, a new one comes on, and his own voice belts from the speakers.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters. He loves his music—he made it, after all—but he can’t help but feel pretentious and more than a little silly to dance to it like this.

Rose, however, grins and says, “Oh, come on, this is one of my favorites.”

She catches his hands where he’d loosened them at her waist and forces him to grab hold of her. She’s wearing high-waisted trousers and a top that leaves a sliver of her belly exposed. His thumb grazes the skin of her bare side, and it’s enough to send tingles through his body. Rose, meanwhile, slings her arms around his shoulders and begins to rock her hips from side to side in sync with the bass, embellishing the motions until she looks absolutely ridiculous but so, so beautiful.

He can’t help but grin and laugh, and he mirrors her movements until they’re both dancing like idiots to his music.

“This is how my baby brother dances,” she explains, bouncing up and down while twisting her hips. “We have regular dance parties together.”

“How old’s your brother?” he asks.

“Just turned four.”

He blinks, and blood rushes from his face. “And… and how old are you?”

“A perfectly legal twenty-four,” she drawls, reaching up to flick his nose. “You can start breathing again.”

Thank fuck.

“That’s quite the age gap.”

“My mum got remarried when I was nineteen,” Rose says with a shrug. “She and my stepdad didn’t waste much time.”

“Clearly,” he mutters under his breath.

“It does feel a bit like they’ve started over,” Rose confesses with a too-stiff shrug. “New family, new life, and I’m the interloper.

There is no way this vivacious woman in front of him could ever be considered an interloper, but before he can tell her that, she continues, “Mum does her best to assure me otherwise, but still. It’s hard to watch all the things Mum and Dad are able to do for Tony—that’s my brother, Tony—when Mum struggled so much as a single mum with me.”

“Your dad’s not in the picture?”

A sad smile pinches her face, and he regrets asking.

“No, I never knew him. He died when I was a baby.”

“I… I’m so sorry.” Well, he’s totally buggered this all up, hasn’t he? He wracks his brain on how to salvage the easy banter they’d had at the bar, but draws a blank.

Rose seems to realize they’ve lost the mood, but she breaks out into a lazy grin and says, “Since you seemed so opposed to dancing to your own music, it’ll please you to know a new song’s on. C’mon, show me your moves.”

He’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, and so he follows her lead, watching her dance her heart out until her cheeks are pink and her hair is damp with sweat. He’s sure he doesn’t look much better, since he can feel the perspiration beading down his back and beneath his arms, but he can’t bring himself to care. Tonight has been the most fun he’s had in a very long time. Clubbing in New York had been a lark, but he’s been swarmed by his American fans half the night, and had been busy drowning his latest heartbreak to fully enjoy it. But here, now, with Rose, it’s like he’s any other bloke in a pub, chatting up a pretty girl he wants to get to know.

Their bodies are wrapped around each other with the ease and grace of partners who have known each other for years, and he forgets that he has known Rose for all of a few hours. He never wants this night to end. He wants to cling to this fairytale and pretend that the clock isn’t about to strike the proverbial midnight.

But time marches on as always. The clock really does strike midnight, and the bartender begins to clear people out of his establishment. James is as exhausted as he is exhilarated, no longer drunk on booze but rather the company of Rose and the magic they made together by simply dancing the night away.

They head back to the bar to retrieve their coats and her purse, and to close out their tabs. James slides his credit card to the bartender and asks him to charge everyone’s tab to his card. If the bartender is surprised, he hides it well. A few minutes later, James is signing off on the receipt of purchase of several thousand pounds-worth of alcohol. His personal assistant is sure to be confused as hell when she wakes up to see the charge. He fires off a quick warning text to her so she doesn’t open up a fraudulent charge claim.

James salutes the bartender, knowing he’ll come back to this pub as often as he can until he’s found out and this place once again becomes somewhere that’s overrun with his fans.

The night is refreshingly cold when he and Rose emerge into it, a nice change after the stifling, sweaty heat of the bar. However, she hunches her shoulders against the chill, prompting him to wrap his arm around her waist and tug her into his side, all too eager to lend her some of his body heat.

“Can I walk you somewhere?” he asks, glancing around the street that is now full of the drunken patrons who’d been in the pub with them. They all disperse in different directions, stumbling home or to a different bar that is still open. “Or wait with you ‘til you catch a cab?”

“Yeah, sure,” she says, pulling up her phone to order a ride. She taps on the screen for a few quiet moments then says, “Done. Should be here in a few minutes.”

They descend into a slightly awkward silence that James wants to break, but he can’t think of anything clever to say. So he says nothing, and finally headlights wash over them, momentarily blinding them before a taxi pulls up.

“D’you wanna share?” she asks, opening the door to the back seat.

Is she as reluctant to leave him as he is to leave her? Or is she being polite and eco-friendly by ride sharing? Nevertheless, he nods and slides into the back seat beside her.

There is something incredibly intimate about sitting with Rose in the dark interior of the taxi, and he feels like he’s fifteen and wondering how to hold his date’s hand after a cheap night out at the cinemas. He fists his hands together, knotting his fingers until his knuckles pop.

The driver goes to the address Rose provides first, and all too soon they’ve arrived.

“I’ll cover the fare,” he says when she makes to hand over some bank notes to the diver. “It’d be my pleasure.”

She hesitates, but nods, then opens the door to climb out of the car. His pulse quickens as he watches her walk away with nothing but a, “Goodnight.”

“Can you wait just a minute?” he asks the driver.

“Meter’s still runnin’,” he grunts.

“That’s fine.”

James scrambles out of the taxi. “Hey, Rose?”

She turns back to face him, frowning.

“I… er… I had a great time tonight,” he says lamely, but her frown relaxes into a smile. “It was fun. With you. I had fun.”

“Yeah, me too,” she answers.

He licks his lips; his mouth is bone dry and his pulse pounds in his ears, making his vision throb with each frenzied beat.

“Do you… do you maybe wanna do it again some time? Hang out together? I… I’d really like to see you again,” he says, cursing his clumsy, fumbling words.

She scrutinizes him for a long moment, her expression indecipherable. His stomach sinks. Maybe this was a one-off, a story for her to tell her mates.

You’ll never guess who I met at the pub last night. James Noble! He paid for all my drinks and we danced like idiots.

He stews in his misery of doubt, and just when he’s about to tell her to forget about it, she slowly nods.

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

“Really?” he asks, a hopeful edge creeping into his voice.

She laughs. “Really.”

“Brilliant!” James fumbles in his pocket for his phone, and he thrusts it at her. “Give me your number? I’ll text you. Or call.”

He rocks back and forth on his toes and heels, waiting for her to finish up with his phone. He has a sudden, potent bolt of panic that she’s snooping through his private messages or photographs for something to use against him to make a quick profit, but before that panic can take root, she hands his mobile back to him. It’s open to a new texting conversation.

From: 🌹 Bad Wolf Girl 🌹

Now I’ve got your number too 😉

He beams at the name she’s given to herself in his contacts, then he pockets his phone.

“I’ll see you later,” he says.

“You better,” she replies with that knee-weakening smile he’s grown to love over the course of the night. “See ya.”

“Bye.”

He stands there like a moron until she’s safely inside, then he turns back to the taxi and climbs in. The deserted streets streak by as the driver takes him to his neighborhood. He never gives his address though; he always chooses a destination a few streets away, just in case.

James generously tips the driver and bids him goodnight before slipping into the night to his home. He was right: the paparazzi are gone. There is no fanfare as he slips his key into the lock and lets himself into his house. It’s warm and cozy, but still too quiet for his liking.

Between the plane ride and his night out, he feels greasy and disgusting, and indulges in a hot shower before bed. He washes Rose’s scent off of his body, an intoxicating blend of jasmine and vanilla that’s as sweet as it is musky.

He’s groggy by the time he crawls into his giant, king-sized bed and burrows deep into his mounds of pillows and duvets. One of his ex-girlfriends once teased that he turns into the marshmallow man when he sleeps.

His sleep is deep and dreamless, and when he awakes with the sun the following morning, he feels more refreshed and invigorated than he ever remembers being. He’s got a full day of meetings with his songwriting team to brainstorm his next album, and he is ready.

But first, he checks his phone. There’s nothing from Rose, which makes him a little sad, but also nothing from his publicist, which is always a good sign. If ever she messages or calls him first thing in the morning, it always means there’s some sort of dumpster fire to put out. Usually a dumpster fire full of compromising photos of him.

He makes a point of not Googling himself, but he does occasionally check his social media pages for new posts about him, wanting to know when, where, and how his fans came across him in the wild. He easily finds the photo that he took with the group of teenage girls, and makes a point to like the original post and type a quick, “Nice to meet you all. Thanks for chatting with me last night - J” in the comments section. He snorts to himself as his comment blows up within seconds.

But other than some grainy photos of him riding the bus, he can’t find any other photos of himself. Nothing of him wandering the streets or drinking in the pub or even having a wee in the mens’ room. And best of all, there’s nothing of him and Rose. No photos of them dancing together or sharing a cab. If Rose has a social media account, it didn’t post any sneaky photos or bragging stories about dancing all night with James Noble.

He can’t quite believe it; he managed to have a fun night out drinking without it all being thrown back in his face the next morning. Within seconds, he’s grinning to himself and pulling up Rose’s contact information. It’s still in his phone, further proof that his night with her wasn’t some sort of jetlagged fever dream. She was real.

“Good morning. I hope you slept well. Thanks for last night.”

She responds almost instantly. Good morning to you too. I should be thanking you for paying my drink tab and taxi fare 😉 And for being an excellent dance partner.

“The pleasure was all mine, on all counts.” He sends that message, then types out a new one, “I’m gonna be in meetings all day (yes, I know it’s Sunday), so please don’t be discouraged if I don’t reply. But I’d really like to see you again. Want to do dinner or drinks or coffee or something?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, needing to make himself presentable for when his driver picks him up in an hour. Yet he can’t help but check his phone every three seconds, until finally there’s a message from Rose.

Yeah, I’d like that. I work ‘til five most nights, but I’m free after that. Or we can wait ‘til the weekend.

With spirits lighter than they’ve been in months, James steps out of his house with a broad, stupid grin that the ever-present crowd of paparazzi are all too happy to photograph.

#ficandchips #dwfic #doctorroseprompts #doctor who #ten x rose #ten x rose au #james x rose #yet another iteration of james and rose lmao #romance #meet cute #light angst #musician au #my fic #sacred new beginnings

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