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the-travelling-witch · 13 days

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𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐔𝐏 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃

summary: when you ask about your boyfriend's home, you get more than you bargained for; but considering it's him, you don't mind, right?

pairing: jade x gn! reader

warnings: fluff, a little suggestive, nonsexual nudity; i’m suffering from a serious case of eel on the brain so you must suffer with me; can’t stop thinking about bioluminescent eel brothers and just mixed that in with jade’s ceremonial robes home screen lines

twisted wonderland masterlist

“I’m captivated by the human custom of changing clothes to suit the occasion,” Jade hummed as deft fingers tied your previously crooked tie and then straightened out the collar of your uniform shirt. “It reminds me of fish who change their scales to match their environment.”

“That sounds like an interesting ability to have,” you chuckled as you combed the long black strand of hair behind his ear, mesmerised by the way the ambient light of the nearly empty Mostro Lounge reflected in his heterochromic eyes. Even with him sitting down and you standing between his legs, he was tall enough to where you were nearly on eye-level. “I’ve never really thought about it, but I guess mers don’t really wear clothes then?”

“It depends on the mer, really, though accessorising is far more common than what you humans would consider clothes. Those in brighter waters seem to enjoy bejewelling themselves for outings, though it doesn’t serve much of a purpose in the deep.” Jade smiled, though this smile lacked the usual nerve-wrecking edge it held when others were around. When he was satisfied with his work, his hands slid down to rest on your waist.

“On top of having to learn how to walk, having to wear all these layers of clothing must have felt really restricting,” you said, your hand mapping the path from his jaw down to his shoulder to play with the lapels of his blazer. “Though I have to say, you do look very good in your school uniform.”

“Fufu, you flatter me, my pearl,” the merman chuckled. “Even so, you look much more lovely in anything you wear. I’m still not accustomed to clothes with excess fabric. My people aren’t like aquarium fish with their long tail fins, after all.”

“I’m still in awe you managed to pull off this transformation of body and habitat so gracefully,” you thought out loud. “If my living conditions changed so drastically, I would’ve felt like a fish out of water… Quite literally, I guess.”

“Admittedly, those first months were rather rough, that’s true. But the world above the Coral Sea holds so many new experiences, I do not regret my decision.” His hands gently squeezed your sides at that, his eyes never leaving yours. Faintly you wondered whether his people could enrapture humans with just their gaze or if it was your own heart which rendered you defenceless against him.

“I’m also glad you came here, Jade,” you confessed, voice coming out barely above a whisper. This time you couldn’t stop your palms from cupping his cheeks between them as he brought you just close enough to where Azul couldn’t reprimand him for indecency. “Would you mind telling me more about the differences you experienced? I want to learn more about your home, too.”

“Gladly,” the moray smiled at you and it warmed your heart despite the hint of sharp teeth showing through. “Let’s see… Ah, I enjoy looking up at the stars, especially when out in the mountains. It’s a very different feeling than from the ocean and it makes me forget the passage of time, even though I have no particular interest in astrology.”

“Sounds like a date in the making, if you ask me,” you grinned knowingly. Every so often, Jade pestered you into switching clubs to the mountain lovers club and while you had yet to relent, you did join him on hikes frequently.

“I will hold you to that,” he promised, eyes crinkling at the edges as if he had gotten just what he wanted. Knowing him, he probably had been gunning for exactly that without you noticing. “Now then, what else did I find astounding when I first came here? Most of it are probably minor things to you, like sneezing, cracking your joints or getting a sunburn. Still hearing the first two was very alarming initially. Azul and I thought Floyd had broken a bone.”

“To be fair, sometimes it does sound like something went incredibly wrong when someone cracks their spine or neck,” you shuddered, reminded of the sounds Ace and Deuce had produced in the past which had you halfway to the nurses office already. “A sunburn must have been a nasty surprise though.”

“That it was,” Jade sighed. “There’s hardly anything worse than drying out for a merman, so we didn’t spend much time in the sun anyway. But to learn that a human’s skin is so easily burned by something they need for their health… Speaking of sunlight, considering it does not reach the depths of my home, everything seemed excessively bright up here too in the beginning.”

“Woah, maybe I underestimated how cold and dark your home is, by my standards at least. Like, no sunlight at all? I’d probably freeze,” you laughed, goosebumps forming under your blazer and shirt at the mere thought.

“Hm, I guess it must seem so to you. When I first learnt about the summer temperatures at land I also thought it wouldn’t be bearable,” Jade chuckled, a spark of mischief in his eyes that you couldn’t place yet. “But an environment devoid of light gives way to many new possibilities in which life can evolve. Sure, you have to always be on guard for what’s lurking around the next corner but you also get to appreciate the colourful glow of bioluminescent fish and plants.”

“The first part sounds terrifying, to be quite honest.” You knew he only ever brought these things up to get a reaction out of you but you still wondered what his life was like to be able to say it with such a calm expression. Instead, you chose to focus on something more pleasant. “Though the bioluminescence sounds beautiful. Back home there were beaches where algae turned the sand and waves a fluorescent blue, so I wonder what it would look like underwater.”

“Would you like to see?” Jade asked, one hand sneaking from your waist to intertwine his fingers with yours. Anticipation was almost tangible in the air, yet you couldn’t figure out why for the life you. So despite the hairs on your neck standing on end, you nodded. Immediately, Jade had risen to his full height and was pulling you along through Octavinelle’s winding hallways.

“Jade! Where are we going?” You laughed, not expecting the sudden switch up. Though that was probably on you; despite hiding it much better than his brother, Jade still tended to do only what was fun to him.

“Oh, you’ll see,” your boyfriend smiled conspiratorially over his shoulder, eyes twinkling like a kid’s on Christmas. He was seriously cute when he got excited about something, even if it meant finding yourself at the end of his teasing more often than not. Considering he was very fond of growing all sorts of things in his terrariums, perhaps he had managed to raise some sort of luminescent plant and this was a ploy for him to gush about his terrariums?

Confusion set in once more, however, when you walked in a different direction than his room. Sure, you didn’t know the structure of Octavinelle all too well but you’d think you’d find the one room you had visited most in the dorm. Wracking your brain in order to figure out what was happening in his, you almost bumped into the moray as he came to a halt in front of one of the many doors. You had never been here before, so you braced yourself for any- and everything as he twisted the doorknob.

The first thing you noticed was the smell of salt and the humidity in the air. Then you noted how you couldn’t see anything in the pitch black darkness. As if he heard your thoughts, a small, dim light flickered on above, revealing tiled floors leading up to a large pool. Of course Octavinelle would have a pool of this size.

Following Jade to the edge of the pool, you peered into the water to find only your reflection staring back at you from the water, the lack of light turning it from clear to near intransparent.

“Seems kinda of irresponsible to cultivate plants or fish in a school swimming pool, don’t you think?” You voiced your doubts as you remembered why you came here in the first place. “How deep is this thing anyway? I can’t see anything in there.”

“Who said anything about fish or plants?” Jade’s chuckle reverberated around the room from behind you and when you turned to see what was so funny, you saw him neatly folding his uniform blazer before starting to unbutton his shirt.

“Wait, hold on.” You held up your hands as you tried putting one and one together, just to end up at three. “Not that I particularly mind where this is going but what’s happening right now?”

There was a shit-eating grin stretching across Jade’s lips and revealing his sharp teeth as he shrugged off his shirt, sauntering over to where you were standing as he slipped his gloves off.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to see bioluminescence for yourself?” At his newfound proximity, you quickly averted your eyes from his swimmer’s body, to feign at least some form of decency, which seemed to amuse him even more. “Have I never told you that my people possess a form of bioluminescence ourselves?”

“You conveniently forgot to mention that.”

“An oversight on my part, my apologies,” Jade hummed, a hand placed over his heart, sounding not sorry at all.

“That aside, it’s not like I brought any swimwear,” you sighed, looking at his eyes and decidedly nowhere else. “Nor can I breathe or open my eyes in saltwater.”

Out of thin air, seemingly, Jade procured a small phial of shimmering liquid; the same one Azul had given to you when you went to the Coral Sea. At his unreadable smile, you raised an eyebrow but nonetheless took the potion from him. “How much of this did you plan out?”

“Fufu, do you really think I would carefully steer a conversation a certain way just to give me an excuse to bring you here?” When your answer was a resounding ‘yes’, he grinned even wider. “I see, this is the impression you have of me.”

“Also, this still doesn’t solve our first predicament,” you reminded him, yet already finding your resolve to deny him weakening. Damn the effect he had on you.

“I can’t see the predicament you speak of at all,” Jade mused, hands landing on your hips again as his fingers pinched the fabric of your uniform. “Perhaps this is a good chance for you to experience how a merperson would feel, swimming freely without any restrictive layers. You were so eager to learn earlier.”

“Jade Leech, are you suggesting I go skinny dipping in a public college pool?” You only received a closed-eye smile as a response as his hands tugged more of your shirt out of your pants. “I can’t believe you. And I can’t believe myself for going along with this…”

The vice housewarden was more than okay with undoing his former handiwork and helping you out of your tie, blazer and shirt. When it was time to remove the rest of your clothes, he left you to your own devices to do the same. For a second you contemplated leaving on your underwear but decided against it at the thought of having to walk back to your dorm with it either soaked or missing.

A splash behind you drew your attention as you draped your last article of clothing over the back of a chair you had found and you chugged down the potion, then ambled over to the pool’s edge again. Dipping your toes in, you breathed a sigh of relief when the water wasn’t too frigid, yet still settled for sitting down and hanging your legs in first.

After a minute or so of acclimating to the temperature, you wondered where your boyfriend had gone, unable to see anything in the dark water. Just then, a cold hand wrapped around your ankle. Despite knowing what -or rather who- it was, you still jerked your leg upwards, but it wasn’t like you got very far, Jade’s strength keeping you exactly where you were. A pair of mismatched eyes stared at you from right under the surface before Jade’s head emerged and broke through the water’s surface.

“Looks like I caught myself a pearl,” he mused before gliding his webbed fingers up your bare claves, sending a jolt up your spine, but not from the coldness. Crossing his arms over your knees, he laid his head down on them so he could look at you properly, his bare chest resting against your legs. If it weren’t for the long shadow of his tail moving right under the water’s surface, he would have reminded you of an overgrown housecat.

“Oh no, whatever shall I do now?” You played along, running your hand through his wet, teal hair and gently caressing the fins where his ears would be. Sighing under your touch, his long nails absentmindedly traced over your thighs, careful not to hurt you. “Please don’t eat me.”

Cracking his left eye open at your teasing, he pressed a lingering kiss above your knee, his teeth lightly gracing the skin there as he pulled away. Definitely not enough to hurt in any way, but enough to remind you of the danger he could pose; a notion that sent adrenaline racing through your body for all the wrong reasons. He winked at you, maybe as a promise for later. “We’ll see about that.”

As he parted from you, he pushed himself up in a display of awe-inspiring core strength and pulled you against him by your waist and thighs, taking you with him as he slowly sank under the surface again. Your hands tried finding purchase on his shoulders, yet continued to slip over the slick covering his skin. Jade, however, had no difficulties holding on to you.

On instinct you had closed your eyes and held your breath as you submerged but the careful caress of a thumb over your cheekbone prompted you to open them and take a tentative lungful of air. Just as back in the Coral Sea, the sensation was weird and unfamiliar but you didn’t drown, which you noted down as a pro.

Whatever you wanted to say died on your tongue as you looked at Jade. Bright spots glowed on his chest and the stripes running over his ribs glowed in an equally stunning teal. Backing up so he was a good arm’s length away, you studied the rest of him, finding that the stripes over his hips as well as clusters of spots on his arms and fins all seemed to be luminescent.

“You’re so beautiful,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him, yet he still pulled you flush against his torso again. Without much hesitation you started tracing the constellations you could reach. “They’re like stars.”

The moray was glad you couldn’t see his face from your position for an uncharacteristically genuine expression of shock decorated his face. Nobody back at home had ever complimented him so genuinely without any ulterior motives. Yes, he had been the one who instigated this little stunt but he hadn’t factored in that you always managed to tug on his heartstrings in the end. At first, he had been a little wary, wondering what you thought about his merform, especially after he had chased you around the sea like this before, but he realised he shouldn’t have worried.

“And you flatter me yet again,” he chuckled instead, tone and expression back to his usual show of amusement. Still, he looped his long tail around your middle once as his hands wandered over your curves and stroked along your skin that was so much more delicate compared to his. “Should I perhaps be wary that you are lowering my defences for nefarious reasons?”

“Ah and here I was hoping you wouldn't notice,” you sighed, fingertips brushing over the bright spots littering his tail as you held his gaze, his yellow eye almost glowing against the darkness that surrounded you. “Despite all the warnings I’ve intended to steal from you. This, to be precise.”

Maybe it was the fact it was just the two of you down here and the rest of the world was forgotten, that drove you to be so straightforward and sappy. But the rhythmic beating of his heart underneath your palm dispelled any feelings of shyness or awkwardness at the -frankly cliché- confession of affection.

Not that Jade seemed to mind either. Before you caught up to what was happening he closed the gap between you and pressed his lips against yours. Perhaps taking the potion earlier was inconsequential after all as Jade moved with the intention of robbing you of all air anyway, the webbed fingers on the back of your head keeping you exactly where he wanted you. You cursed your lungs for burning with the need for oxygen, never having yearned for gills as much as in this moment, if it meant you could keep kissing him for just a second longer. Before he parted from you completely he bit down on your bottom lip, not enough to draw blood but just so to leave it tingling from his attention.

“What a silly little darling,” Jade mused, tracing the shallow indents of his teeth with the pad of his thumb as he drank up the expression on your face. The coil of his tail around you grew just a tad tighter, yet still careful not to hurt you, as a sudden wave of possessiveness washed over him. “Everybody knows you can’t steal what’s already yours.”

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divineecelestial · 2 years

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Instrument Of War | Steve Harrington x f!Reader — Chapter Two

| Word Count — 6.4k |

| Chapter Summary — You have returned from the dead and have been chosen as a vessel for The Mind Flayer. There is chaos inside you now. You embrace it. |

| Warnings — Use of female pronouns, graphic depictions of d3ath, blood. [Y/N] endures experiences that can be considered triggering. Viewer discretion is advised. |

| Author's Note — This is much shorter than I wanted, but I've returned back to work and I won't have as much time to write anymore. Consider this a filler chapter. |

[Y/N] didn’t remember the vivid details of her death. She remembered the burning pain coursing throughout every inch of her cold body, the taste of warm blood dancing across her tongue, and the harsh touch pulling her from the darkness of nothingness as she slowly faded away. She remembered the figure of darkness grabbing her limp hand and guiding her from the blooming coldness. She couldn’t see them as she stood inside the desolate void, but she could feel them. She knew they loomed across from her, the empty space surrounding her was brimming with their presence. Her eyes gleamed with irate flames as the presence overwhelmed her, suffocating her with their pulsing energy. The being spoke with an otherworldly abrasiveness as it delicately twirled a strand of her hair around its invisible finger. The gesture wasn’t benevolent, it was lamely curious, as one would be when seeing something strange on their doorstep.

Those vivid eyes of hers glittered with darkness The Being had only ever witnessed inside the depths of its world where the forgotten souls twinkled like fading stars. She dismissed the inquisitive touch with a sudden smack of her hand and the strand of hair fell back to her cheek. Though she couldn’t see The Being, she could feel the amusement radiate from it and her gaze hardened. The beckoning gloom swirled deep in her eyes so The Being stared and stared some more, but her glare didn’t falter. It pressed a finger to her forehead and she was chosen.

---

[Y/N] reeked of death.

Her smooth hands were frozen with a dull ache. Frigid metal handcuffs were tightly encircled around her wrists and the abrasive edges sliced her skin with each uncontrolled tremor. The pouring rain of wherever she was contained drenched and darkened her medical gown, her hair sodden and dripping. The midnight pathways of the facility were lifeless, uncharacteristically hollow as few doctors moved across the pavement. She could smell the dampness of the concrete smothering the air. Releasing a quivering breath, she watched as the puff of air swirled into nothingness. Her body trembled as a wintry breeze shrouded her in a cloak of coldness.

The armored man who guided her through the lightless pathways pulled her arm forcefully, indifferent to her chattering teeth. She grunted through a clenched mouth as she stumbled into a muddy puddle. As the water seeped inside the crevices of the cheap shoes she was given, [Y/N] glared through saturated eyelashes. His clothes were colorless, nearly as dark as the shadows of the facility, and sewn with high-priced fabric and a mask concealing nearly the entirety of his face. Upon noticing her lingering and harsh gaze, he purposely yanked her arm again. Though she couldn’t see his expression behind the fabric, she knew he seemed satisfied as she misstepped on her own undone laces.

She examined her surroundings, unfamiliar with this portion of the facility. She had only been there for a week, something she only knew because she snuck a peek at her file when she was being examined, but during that time, she had never stepped inside this area. Wandering gazes from the medical professionals and scientists seared through her as they simply closed their office doors with unconcern. She furrowed her eyebrows together as their disregard burned. Nearing the end of the pathway, she came to an unsettling realization no one around was going to help her. These people were accustomed to this, familiar with looking the other way and remaining uninvolved. She could see the reflective gleam of metal shining on the facility’s rooftops—guns.

Disappointment flowed as she reached an average-appearing building entrance. The forefront of the facility was unsuspecting, painfully mediocre. His grasp on [Y/N] never faltered as he knocked accordingly and glanced at both ends of the pathway, ensuring no one was nearby. There were a few glances earned from the surrounding goons, their soaked hands prepped on the trigger of their guns.

A flicker of unease moved through her as the door unlocked, the rusted hinges creaking. She wasn’t unfamiliar with the fluorescent brightness inside as she was shoved inside the doorway and the distinct smell of rubbing alcohol filled her nose. The hallway was unbearably still, no sounds traveled through the pristine walls as she hesitantly continued walking with the man’s icy hand gripping her arm. She neared the end of the bright corridor and she strained to remain indifferent. There were dozens of doors, but as she swallowed the lump lodged in her throat, she came to startlingly thought that something was going to happen to her.

[Y/N] stepped inside another door frame, the overwhelming silence dissipated as the door closed behind her. The masked man relinquished his rough grasp and tossed her onto the concrete floor. A dull ache blossomed as she landed on her knees, a variety of indents permanently etched onto the crevices of the floor. There was another man perched behind a wooden desk, embellished with elaborate and decorative details. She straightened from the floor and he callously smiled, his wrinkled eyes brimming with unfiltered eagerness. It wasn’t until her eyes connected with his empty ones, she recognized him. It was the Russian soldier who interrogated her at the Russian base at the bottom of Starcourt Mall. She assumed he died with the explosion and fire, but as he stood from his chair, intently examining her as if she were a new punching bag, she knew he was determined to make her newfound life a living hell.

He kneeled beside her, waving a dismissive motion to the masked goon, and the room became still and empty. His calloused hand clutched the side of her mouth as he yanked her face closer to his. His virile stench of aged whiskey and cigarettes burned her nose as his other hand lightly slapped her cheek. His unwanted touch singed. “I told you you were going to regret it, little bitch.”

An undiluted rage coursed through her bloodstream as she pulled the handcuffs connecting the chain apart. She clasped her delicate hands on the sides of his wrinkled face. His eyes widened with oblivious confusion and an otherworldly smile graced her lips. Her soft eyes transformed into glittering pools of dark blood. Wistful wisps and streaks of blood-red energy oozed from her as she craned her head tauntingly. The room was reshaped into a desolate and cold chasm as the redness shrouded her like a crimson cloak. With a frightened expression, attempted to pull away from her but she kept him in place. Her emotionless face was inches away from his. “What,” She questioned as the red smoke exuded from her form. Her voice was light and airy with a tinge of sharpened abrasiveness. “Are you scared?”

Her eyes of abyssal redness sparkled with delight as he cursed beneath his breath. His fingernails cracked as he tried to crawl away, but her grasp remained unwavering and icy. With one fluid motion, she extended her hand outward and he flew to the wall. The plaster of the painted wall cracked as he collided against it. A satisfied smile curved her lips as she saw his trembling lip and salty tears streaming. She pushed herself from the floor, standing upright. Her hand remained outward and she slowly clenched her hand into a closed fist, relishing the spectacle of his life-force draining from his eyes, resembling a diminishing flame. His limbs loosened, dangling by his torso, and when his tear-soaked lashes fluttered closed, she dropped her hand and his corpse fell with a heavy thud.

She stepped over his corpse and strolled over to the unoccupied desk. The drawers were locked and with a simple jerk of her chin, the locks dislodged and broke. She gathered the messy stacks of paperwork, knowing she couldn’t read Russian, but once she escaped the facility, she could give the stack of papers to the government.

[Y/N] folded the paperwork and tucked them beneath her arm. She stomped forward and flicked her wrist, the thick metal door flying inward and the hinges fell to the floor. Her eyes transformed into crimson as the Russian goons aimed their weapons at her. She only smiled.

----

The coldness of the night brushed against [Y/N]’s exposed skin as she slouched against the grime of the bus stop. There weren’t many things drowning her thoughts as she watched the drizzle slowly dissipate. She might have continued walking back to the small town if the thundering clouds weren’t thickening and if the breeze wasn’t numbing her hands. So she closed her eyes and listened to the droplets of rainfall from the towering trees. She couldn’t remember when there was a moment when she wasn’t surrounded by constant noise. She wasn’t contained inside the facility for long, couldn’t have been more than a week from the numbers she had seen on her paperwork, but during her time inside, she was always shrouded with sound; the whirring of the security camera, the hushed whispers of scientists, and the beeping of the medical equipment inside her room. She relished the sound of nothing even if it was only for a few minutes.

The momentary flicker of nothing ended when the sound of the approaching engine of the bus became louder. The hiss of the vehicle traveled through the air as she slowly opened her eyes. She thought for a moment as the double doors swung open, wondering if she should even return to the town of Hawkins. She saw the headlines in the newspapers, the black and white passages of a false story. The small town was still mourning its loss of modernity and the death of the people. She stood from the bus stop’s bench and stepped inside the small confines of the bus. She placed the change on the palm of the driver’s hand and traveled to the far end of the bus. Leaning her forehead against the window's glass, she closed her eyes once again and listened to the comforting sound of nothing.

The pungent smell of ash and blackened debris as she stood across the wreckage of Starcourt Mall. The midnight thoroughfares of this portion of town were lifeless, uncharacteristically hollow as few cars drove across the streets. The parking lot where people would struggle to search for an empty space was void. There was no reason for anyone to be here anymore. It was another painful reminder of loss. But there she was, wallowing throughout the fading memories.

She could smell the dampness of the concrete, the smog smothering the air as she kneeled on the jagged edges of the parking lot. The downpour of the rain-soaked her clothes as the fabric of her jeans darkened with mud. Her eyes remained on the wreckage, moving across the remnants of the building with casual curiosity. She couldn’t remember the occurrences at Starcourt as vividly as she could before. She could feel the memories fading as each day continued, dream-like. She remembered the gentle touch of Steve’s hand, the white-hot pain, and pulsing waves of terror. But it was seeing through a smudged camera lens.

[Y/N] closed her eyes, rethinking the subtle glances Steve gave when he thought she wasn’t looking and the softness of his gaze when smoothed the loose strands of her hair and pressed her bruised cheek against his thigh on the bathroom floor. She could see his sliced lip moving, but she couldn’t remember the words that fell from his mouth. She despised herself for forgetting.

She reluctantly opened her eyes, a sudden numbness moving through her as placed her palms on the grey ash, the softness of the residue tarnishing her skin. There was a subtle warmth beneath the blackened cinders. With a slow exhale, she allowed the otherworldly energy to seep inside her fingertips, the supernatural vitality lingering beneath the rubble from the recovering portal entrance. The energy of The Gate remained there, untouched and forgotten, and it oozed from beneath the concrete in a crimson glow. She watched as the veins beneath her skin temporarily transformed into a glowing stream. With a pleased sigh, [Y/N] retracted her hands from the ash and cinders.

There was a distant voice from across the parking lot and she was so enthralled with the warmth traveling her bloodstream, that she almost didn’t hear the sound. She glanced over her shoulder, noticing a tall man covering his eyes with his hand as he quickly approached her. His sodden boots squished with each hurried step. “You can’t be over here, ma’am. It’s a safety hazard. We’ve got a lot of exposed wiring.” As he approached her, she could see his construction uniform. She looked away, unconcerned by the hazard. When she didn’t respond or show a flicker of unease at the revelation of exposed wires while it rained, he stepped forward with a furrowed eyebrow. “Ma’am? What are you doing out here?”

She expelled a breath, mulling over the question. “I didn’t know where else to go.” She eventually answered, thinking of the emptiness filling her with each waking moment. She nearly chuckled at the oxymoronic thought.

The man blinked away the raindrops. “Do you need a ride somewhere?” She thought of the soaked papers inside the pocket of her sweater and she didn’t know what to do. Not just with the papers, but with herself. But there might be a person who would know about the Russian papers and that was a step.

[Y/N] finally tore her blank gaze from the now-drained remnants of Starcourt and peered upward at the towering man. He looked at her with concern, as a father would look at their daughter when she scraped their knees on the pavement. “Can you take me to the police station?”

----

When she stepped inside the Hawkins Police Station, she was welcomed with the acrid smell of cigarette smoke and brewing coffee beans. The downpour slowly faded away as the door closed behind her and she could hear the clicking of keyboards and the whirring of printers and fax machines. She stepped further inside and neared the secretary’s desk. The older woman spoke on the phone, twirling the coil wire around her painted fingernail. The secretary glanced from the paperwork on her desk to the drenched woman soaking their freshly-mopped floor. She returned her gaze back to the highlighted passages on her paper for a brief moment before quickly looking back at [Y/N]. A flash of recognition colored her expression as she stared at her; one of the young women that couldn’t be found in the wreckage of the Starcourt fire and were unfortunately presumed dead was standing inches away from her. The secretary mumbled something into the phone before slamming it down. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

[Y/N] thought the question was strange, considering she could see her own graduation picture on a missing person’s poster thumbtacked to a bulletin board. “Where’s Hopper,” She asked briskly. She wasn’t particularly keen on wasting any more time than necessary.

The older woman’s expression softened pitifully. “He died in the fire, sweetheart.” From across the room, she could see some other police officers watching the scene unfold, mumbling something to the walkie-talkie attached to their collar. The revelation was unnerving and she would never have considered Jim Hopper to be someone that would’ve perished. He was stubborn, annoyingly so, and was strong in the admirable way everyone wanted to be. “Would you like some coffee? Maybe you can answer a few questions.” An older officer began approaching them with a stern expression.

She thought stepping away from the desk and quickly pushing open the double doors, disappearing through the faint drizzle as she continued onward, but she came to the startling realization she couldn’t go home. The Russians knew her home address, something they must have acquired when they intercepted Dr. Sam Owens, and there was the possibility they ransacked her belongings, destroying anything with value. And because of that, she was thankful she lived alone in a small apartment away from her family.

[Y/N]’s bottom lip quivered as she nodded wordlessly as burning tears shone in her eyes. As the older woman stood from her chair, the old hinges squeaking as she pushed away from the desk, a small smile rose from her wrinkled lips. As she was escorted to an empty interrogation room, [Y/N] tightened the fuzzy blanket she was given around herself. The cold room was barren, with only a silver table and two chairs, and she was given no other choice but to stare at herself through the two-way mirror.

The door closed with a small thud and she listened to the faint rainfall clash against the window. With the newfound warmth, a steaming mug of freshly brewed coffee, and the sound of tranquil silence, she closed her eyes and thought of the events of everything she endured. She remembered the surge of intense energy as she awoke in the back of a moving van, Russian guards surrounding her with their fingers on triggers. She remembered becoming nauseous from the copious amounts of vials they took of her blood. And she remembered the constant whirring of that goddamn security camera. As the memories resurfaced, a flash of energy coursed through her, and a small, barely noticeable, crack formed on the outer edge of the two-way mirror.

The door opened and an officer entered the room with a yellow notepad clutched in his hand. “All right, Ms. [L/N], I’m Chief Powell and this Officer Callahan. I’m going to ask you a few questions and you’re going to answer them as best as you can.”

Her eyes remained closed and although his lips remained pressed together in a thin line, she could hear his voice echoing through the confines of her garbled mind. His voice was a wispy whisper, barely there and almost indistinct, but she couldn’t shake the voice away. “I don’t remember,” She mumbled and he tore his gaze from his yellow pages on the desk. He furrowed his eyebrows together, unsure what she was speaking about. She wanted to cover her ears with her palms. “You’re going to ask me about that night, about how I’m still here if you thought I was dead. Well, I don’t remember. I was closing up at Scoops Ahoy and then I was here.” The words singed like blistering poison as the lies continued.

Callahan stared at her, disbelieving each and every acrid lie she spat. “So, you’re saying you don’t know where you’ve been or what you’ve done for an entire week?” He scribbled a messy drawing on his own spiral notepad, disinterested in her fabricated story. “And now you’re just here?”

Her eyes slowly opened and she narrowed her eyes. “Ever heard of a fugue state?”

He blinked slowly. “Can’t say I have.”

“Why am I not surprised?” She pressed her forearms on the silver tabletop, leaning forward. “Temporary memory loss after a traumatic event where the person appears at a random location.”

“Seems like you’ve had a lot of time to practice that.”

She could nearly see the skepticism dripping from his mouth, almost tangible. “I wouldn’t know, I can’t remember anything.”

Callahan dropped his nearly-dry pen on the tabletop, disregarding his messy doodles, and leaned forward. “You wanna know what I think?” He asked.

Her hands gripped tighter onto the fabric of the blanket around her. “Not at all, but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“I think you might have had something to do with the fire starting and ran away with some little boyfriend of yours to get out of trouble.” As soon as the mindless sentence escaped his lips, her eyes transformed from a jaded disinterest to hardened daggers of molten steel. She didn’t care if they didn’t believe her fabrications of memory loss, but she didn’t think they would blatantly accuse her of burning down Starcourt.

Ire flowed through her as she pondered on the accusation, thinking of the suffering she was forced to endure and experience the warmth of her blood permanently tarnishing her hands. She leaned closer, her lashes clumped together from rainwater as her eyes narrowed, and there was a coldness lacing her voice. “Don’t ever say that again,” The yellow light of the overhanging lights flickered, a vague crackle of electricity emitted from the lightbulbs as she spoke. She knew they didn’t know about The Upside Down or the Russian involvement, but hearing them blame her own demise on herself was revolting. “If you ever say some stupid shit like that again, you’ll regret it.”

Chief Powell briefly glimpsed at the flickering lights before returning his attention back to her. “Threatening a police officer isn’t a wise choice, Ms. [L/N].” When he looked at her, he saw a frightened young girl, defensive and angered with the world for the misfortune it gave her.

“It wasn’t a threat, it was a guarantee.”

Powell sighed heavily. “Ms. [L/N], we’re just trying to help you and get your story straight.”

Incredulous, she scoffed at the suggestion. “Help me?” She asked rhetorically. “By accusing me of starting the fire that killed I don’t know how many people? Look, I only agreed to this interview to help you but you guys clearly don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” She pushed the chair back and away from the table, standing from the coldness of the metal and opening the interrogation room door. She moved through the hallways and disregarded the unconvincing pleas for her to come back inside.

----

The night would have been relatively calm, entirely uneventful, and dull for Eddie Munson. He might have walked back to his trailer if the weather hadn’t changed. He might have even bought some drinks from a convenience store and drank the bitterness of a cheap beer can for the night, slowly forgetting his frustration for his car breaking down for the hundredth time. But he, of course, didn’t have any luck on his side and he was caught with his stash by one of the roaming officers. A common occurrence, something he was more than used to, and was begrudgingly brought to the police station. They didn’t really care that he was selling weed, they had far more concerning things to deal with, but they usually confiscated his stash in hopes of teaching him a lesson. He never did learn that lesson. That night should have been relatively calm, entirely uneventful, and dull.

But then she walked by.

Eddie was familiar with the coldness of shadows. He knew the frigidness of absence like the crevices of his own calloused hands. He knew the detached darkness of his eyes when his troubled gaze tethered with hers, the desolate familiarness chilled him. She chanced him a disinterested glance, oblique and quick, and the flickering lights illuminated the shadows of her face. Her eyes glimmered like starry nightfall and his lips parted as she looked away, continuing onward and indifferent. He straightened on his chair, watching as Hawkins It-Girl marched through the police station as if she were ready to tear it apart brick by brick. He could have sworn she died in the flames of the Starcourt Tragedy.

With round and glazed eyes, he watched as she disappeared through the doorway and molded with the downpour and shadows of the night. He contemplated for a moment if he should follow her, at least make sure she made it home safely. But she didn’t seem keen on having company. He stood from the chair, knowing if he allowed her to roam around the streets at this hour, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. As he stepped outside of the station, a gentle wind crashed against him and the lingering florid fragrance of her perfume faded. There was something ominous within her beauty, something macabre hidden beneath the absolute loveliness. Looking at her eyes reminded him of peering into an unfathomable chasm and feeling something look right back into him. He could have sworn that abysmal emptiness wasn’t there a month before, the last school year she had with him before she graduated.

He walked down the sidewalk, barely managing to decipher her departing shadow from across the street as she stomped on the puddles. His thoughts were severed as the thundering sound of heavy footsteps emerged from the other side of the thoroughfare. His head snapped at the clamoring voices, watching as the small group of men stomped across the puddled street. They glimpsed around the empty sidewalks and lightless windows of the closed businesses. They spoke in hushed whispers and he couldn’t understand them, maybe another language? One of them murmured something with hatred and an unsettled chill moved through him. They didn’t even bother acknowledging Eddie’s eavesdropping figure as they passed a bus stop and disappeared around the corner she walked just a few minutes prior.

Eddie glanced at his own concerning reflection on a clouded puddle beside his sodden shoes. He wasn’t a fighter, he could barely get a punch in when he did manage to get into fist fights, so he wasn’t sure why he was overwhelmed with a feeling of dread as he watched the group of foreign men trail after her. He had this unshakeable feeling that they were after her.

His narrowed eyes moved across the darkness of the streets and sidewalks, listening to the sound of the broken branches swaying with the wind. The bright neon headlights faded as everyone returned to the warmth of their blankets, leaving the remnants of the afternoon within the breeze. That’s what he should have been doing. Eddie should be sitting inside the dingy bus and leaning his forehead against the smudged window and forgetting his annoyance. He should not be pretending he was some mighty defender for the girl he used to have a pathetic crush on. But something wasn’t right.

Nearing a secluded alleyway, he heard muffled voices. He slowed his pace, listening to the crunching of shattered glass beneath the weight of their shoes. Eddie stepped inside the shadows of the alleyway and the stench of molded garbage filled his nose. The men’s voices cleared, becoming distinct as he neared the group. “They want her alive,” One of the taller men said with a thick accent. “Did not say anything about roughening her up.” The remainder of the group murmured their enthusiasm.

Eddie stepped on a shard of glass, the crunch echoing between the brick walls. The group of men hushed and whirled around, their expressions hardening as Eddie didn’t cower away from their ghoulish intimidation. “Turn around and mind your own business.” The leader declared, motioning with his hand. Eddie, for a brief moment, thought of complying and disappearing back into the empty streets. He usually heavily relied on his intimidating exterior to prevent physical altercations, but these men were some brusque brutes and could easily overpower him as if he were a mere child. But he remained still as he glared into the depths of the man’s eyes. The leader furrowed his eyebrows, stepping forward as he placed his hand on his waistband, threateningly displaying the handle of a gun. “Do not make me tell you again.”

Behind the man’s shoulder, [Y/N] intently watched the scene unravel with glimmering eyes. He glanced at her curious gaze. He would have expected to see an alarming dread within the shadows of her eyes like he was certain he looked, but she observed his hesitant movements with calculation. As if she were waiting. She didn’t look scared, she looked intrigued.

The man rolled his eyes as Eddie remained and didn’t move. “Let her go,” He demanded, his voice wavered and she raised an eyebrow at the uncertainty falling from his mouth. He was entirely aware of the weapon pressed between the man’s waistband and he was frightened, evidently, but he stayed.

The man stepped aside, sardonically motioning for her to leave the crowded alleyway. She knew this was a ruse, his bruised hand was curling around the handle of his gun as she inched forward, hesitantly moving beside Eddie. Eddie might have flunked high school twice, but he wasn’t stupid. He could see where this was going and shielded her, standing in front of her as the leader yanked the gun from his torso and aimed. “Stand back.” He told her and she smiled at the futile attempt of his protection. She could see the uncertainty and fear oozing from him.

His finger pressed the trigger, and the bullet tore through the drizzling rain and hurdled toward Eddie’s chest. Hastily, her hand extended outward with a blood-red glow emitting and the shining bullet froze mid-air, unmoving and almost tauntingly. With a small jerk of her hand, the bullet pathetically collapsed onto the damp concrete. Eddie, with undiluted shock coloring his expression, glanced from the frightened man to her resolute face. The crimson glow twinkled like spilled blood between her fingers as the three men’s shoes slowly dangled from the gravel as her delicate hand moved in a slow and deliberate motion. Eddie Jake watched with wide eyes, his forehead creasing as the men floated mid-air. Their troubled screams filled the midnight air and the handgun clutched between the man’s palm was pulled from his grasp, the pieces of the weapon disassembling before being thrown across the alleyway.

Her head tilted menacingly as her eyes narrowed with perverse pleasure as she watched them squirm in her invisible grasp. Her hand clamped closed and the three of the men’s necks snapped with a sickening crack, their corpses became deathly limp before collapsing onto the ground. “What the hell—”

[Y/N]’s abysmal eyes glittered with a blood-like gleam as she relished the life force seeping from them. “I’ve changed since the fire,” She said as the redness from her hands dissipated into nothingness. Her voice was smoky, sultry as she spoke. The words drifted like a simmering fragrance and he watched the droplets of rainwater cascade down her cheeks. She loomed closer, eyeing him through the thick rim of her lashes.

The moonlight illuminated the shadows of her face. There were pretty things in the world. He saw them every day; a bright bouquet of flowers from the florist he greeted whenever he was inside the main city, the sunset that painted the sky with warm oranges and pallid pinks, and the way the gentle breezes moved the thin branches in the morning, but then there was her. Something about her beauty pleasantly unsettled him. Something, especially someone, shouldn’t be that pretty. And as she blinked, the wispy tips of her lashes brushing against her cheek, he remembered doing this before. Admiring her like she was a finished canvas. “[Y/N], what the fuck is going on?” He muttered, slowly backing away and glancing at the dead men.

An unexpected smile curved her plump lips. “They were going to kill us.” She said, “So I did it first.”

His dark eyes hardened. “Why were they going after you?”

Her gaze softened almost teasingly. “Like I said, I’ve changed since the fire.”

The cryptic admission unnerved him but attempted to keep his faltering composure. “How did you do that?”

“So many questions, such little time, Eddie.” She said his name as if the words were pleasantly sweet and as if she wanted to taste the honeyed flavor again.

He could almost taste your perfume from how close she was. “Are you going to kill me?”

She tilted her head casually. She didn’t answer for a brief moment, watching as his intimidated stare wavered. “No.”

Blatant relief colored his pale expression. “Why?”

An amused expression formed as she eyed him. “Do you want me to?” She asked, chuckling softly. He didn’t reciprocate the ease she expressed and her lovely smile slowly faded. She pressed a warm palm to his clothed chest, the dampness of his curly hair sticking to his face. A faint glow enveloped his chest from her hand. “You don’t deserve it, Eddie Munson.” Her touch bloomed something within him.

Eddie felt small beneath her half-lidded gaze, inferior to a woman who radiated pure power. “What’s that supposed to mean?” A red whisp flowed from her manicured hand, grazing the stubble of his cheekbone. The small wraith tickled his skin tenderly before disappearing into nothingness. He watched the feathery wisp faded. “What do you want with me?” He supposed she wanted something because she wouldn’t have even allowed him to witness what she had done to those men.

She frowned. “That’s a question I can’t seem to find an easy answer for.” She didn’t seem thrilled with the unfamiliar admission.

“I guess that doesn’t happen often.”

She hesitantly stepped aside before continuing ahead with a slow, deliberate stroll. “Yeah, usually I know everything, but this week has been filled with constant unknowing.” She reluctantly admitted. Eddie followed beside her, unsure why his tense shoulders eased as the gravel crunched beneath her shoes. “Over the last two years, I’ve learned there are things in this universe that are difficult to explain.”

The vile smell of garbage disappeared as they both walked away from the alleyway. “Like how you changed?” There were a dozen things he witnessed within an hour he couldn’t explain, realized things he couldn’t be possible, but here he was. He chose to walk in the quietness of the night beside her to hear her ethereal voice.

She chanced him a lighthearted glance. “Exactly like that.”

He shuddered as his eyes connected with her. The intensity of them made him uncomfortable. He tore his gaze away. “I’ve seen you before,” He said, realizing how stupid the statement sounded. “I mean, I’ve obviously seen you before, but it’s like I’ve been seeing you in my dreams this week. It sounds stupid.” The faded dreams were slowly emerging from a hidden corner of his broken mind. It was like seeing a half-solved puzzle.

She didn’t seem surprised by his confusing confession. “Dreams are confusing experiences, aren’t they?” Her smooth voice echoed through his head, unbearably familiar, but he knew this feeling wasn’t from a physical experience. This familiarity was distant, almost like a forgotten daydream. “I was supposed to find you. You weren’t supposed to find me. Darkness craves darkness and you’ve been praying for salvation.” A streetlamp flickered as she walked beneath the orange light.

He felt out of place beside [Y/N]. She was almost regal, oozing prominent elegance and he was wearing his old Hellfire t-shirt. He chuckled humorlessly. “And that’s you?” He asked, almost as if that were the dumbest thing he’d ever heard.

“Of course not,” She said, an amused smile tugging at the corners of her soft lips. “You pray for salvation, for redemption, but I’m here to tell you darkness isn’t evil and the darkness that blooms within you, Eddie Munson, isn’t something to be salvaged or removed. It’s to be nurtured and accepted.”

He was suddenly unnerved by her candid analysis. “I don’t have a darkness inside me.”

Unbothered, her smile loosened but remained present. “Everyone does, even you.” She said softly, silk-like. “I can feel it. You may not have gotten on your knees and prayed, but something deep inside you is calling out to the darkness and you’re lucky I heard you, not something else.”

The warmth radiating from beneath his clothes disappeared as he stepped further from her. “I don’t believe in angels and demons.”

She stopped walking, furrowing her eyebrows together. “I’m not talking about demons or the Devil. Whatever it is, it’s here and always lurking in the shadows and waiting. And I’m going to kill it and I will tear this town apart until it rains blood if I have to.”

----

Eddie Munson never thought he would have been searching the suburban neighborhoods for the wealthy family home of Steve Harrington, a home he had only seen once before because he sold some weed to him for a party he was having. Admittedly, he purposely overpriced him and was only there for less than two minutes before driving away in his car and was slightly under the influence of his new product, so he didn’t remember exactly which house was his. But he eventually discovered the obnoxiously lush and opulent house of the Harrington’s.

He didn’t care as his sneakers were drenched as he stepped on the concrete pathway. His clenched hand pounded on the wooden door, glancing around the neighborhood nervously. He didn’t know Steve Harrington enough to consider him anything other than an unfortunate classmate, someone whose ego was bigger than his hair, but something he did know was that Steve was [Y/N]’s best friend during high school and after they graduated from what he gathered the few times he walked by Scoops Ahoy.

He remembered the following morning after the fire destroyed Starcourt Mall and he saw the cover of the newly published newspaper; Steve Harrington bloodied and bruised carrying the corpse of his best friend in his weak arms as the flames ignited behind him. Eddie didn’t like him, he never did, but he would’ve been lying if he said that photograph didn’t have him sympathize with him. He raised his first again before the door swung open.

Steve stood from the inside of his house, rubbing his eye as he yawned. “Munson?” He asked, his voice exhausted with a twinge of annoyance. “What the hell are you doing here?” Even from where he stood, Eddie could see the exhaustion seeping from him. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in weeks and was moments from collapsing.

“[Y/N] is alive.” Steve didn’t move as the words registered through his cluttered mind.

After a brief second, Steve’s expression hardened. “Is this some kind of stupid joke?” He spat, “Because if it is, Munson, this isn’t fucking funny." He looked like he was seconds from pouncing on him and smashing his face in.

Eddie hurriedly shook his head. There was a desperateness gleaming in his frightened eyes. “Listen to me, Steve,” He pleaded. The severity of his voice captured Steve’s attention and he wasn’t sure if he ever heard Eddie ever use his first name before. “This isn’t a joke. I saw her! She’s…different, but, you’ve gotta believe me, Steve. She’s alive.”

Steve processed the revelation, blinking as he thought of the last time he ever saw her. He was still speaking with her family about possible funeral arrangements. This couldn’t be possible.

He grabbed Eddie’s hand and yanked him inside, shutting the door with an echoing bang. He grabbed a walkie-talkie, pulled out the metal antenna, and pressed the button. “Henderson, we’ve got a Code Red, I repeat, we’ve got a Code Red.” He glanced over at where Eddie stood, soaked and confused. “Tell me everything from the beginning.”

So Eddie did.

@freezaz123 @loversclub @naughty-koala07 @555stargirl555 @keehnbean @burningcoffeecupp @destielshipper88 @simp4natasha @ameliabs-world @lilygreennn @thelostone91 @falcvns @quixscentsposts

#steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n

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euphorajeon · 1 year

Text

love (and all of its complications) | kth

— pairing: photography student!tae x reader

— genre: fluff, angst (a bit) | college au

— word count: 3.1k

— warnings: insecurities, self-deprecating thoughts, (most likely) inaccurate use of photography terms, the nickname love, brief mention of min yoonji (haha)

— summary: when you think you're not worth loving, he lists all the reason why you are.

— author's note: this is a request from a friend based on the song best part of me by ed sheeran (ft. yebba)! so its a bit oc-centric. if you're having similar thoughts to oc, i hope tae's words can become a source of comfort for you :) enjoy!

masterlist

The first thing you notice upon waking up from slumber is the weight of your boyfriend’s head on your chest, his fluffy hair tickling your chin. As much as you like having him close like this, the position makes it hard for you to breathe, so you shift your body a little to give your lungs the oxygen they deserve. Your movement triggers that of his as well, his arm tightening around your waist and his leg around your legs, making you sigh in defeat.

A glance at the wall clock tells you that it’s still way too early for him to wake up, so you decide to give him those extra hours of sleep you know he will appreciate later. Your hand settles on his hair, fingers running through the strands once before you angle your head to give him a kiss on the top of his head. He stirs a bit but doesn’t wake up, instead he snuggles closer to your body like you’re his personal body pillow.

When your hand catches on his t-shirt while rubbing his back, the black color of the fabric reminds you that your boyfriend had gone straight to bed last night in the same clothes he had been wearing all night. Any protests you put up fell on deaf ears as he whined for you to get into bed with him, claiming he was too exhausted to wash up. Between his big puppy eyes and pouting lips, you couldn’t find it in you to deny him of your hold, allowing him to pull you onto the mattress and into dreamland.

Last night was the opening night of Taehyung’s photography exhibition, so you understand the state of exhaustion he’s in. You’ve witnessed first-hand how stressed he was preparing for this event, from the initial proposal to choosing the photos to display and arranging them in the exhibition venue according to his vision. It was filled with countless sleepless nights and too many cups of coffee you started to worry about his wellbeing, something you told him often. Despite his reassurance that he would be fine, you still found yourself biting your lip in worry every time he looked even the slightest bit tired.

Last night, he proved to you that all of those sleepless nights and bitter coffees are worth it as he proudly hosted the opening night of his own exhibition that has been his dream for so long. You had watched as the sparks never left his eyes for the entirety of the night, even though he had to be on his feet for hours and talk non-stop to the guests. You watched with admiration in your eyes every time he explained the meaning behind the photos on display, feeling pride swell in your heart when you see that people were as mesmerized as you were listening to him talk about his art.

You had let yourself wander around the exhibition without him, letting him be the star of the show on his own. It was fascinating to see the exhibition in its finished form when you’ve only seen parts of the building process, seeing the bits you recognize and how it came to life with the things added around them. It was also different seeing the photos finally lined up according to the story that Taehyung wants to tell, the message he wants to convey. Through the various colors and techniques, he bares his mind to everyone and hopes that it was enough to be understood.

You’ve always admired Taehyung’s photography skills. The way he captures mundane things and makes them appear extraordinary in his shots never fails to evoke emotions out of you, sometimes even making you believe that the world is as beautiful as it is behind his camera lens. Often you wonder if that’s how he sees the world — through a rose-colored glass, void of the black-colored stains that’s always lurking in the corner.

You found the answer last night, when he was talking to his photography club friends about the general theme of his exhibition. It’s not exactly looking at the world through a rose-colored glass — or lens, in his case — but just to show people than you can find beauty even in the tiniest nook and cranny of places you never thought to be beautiful. You thought it’s an endearing concept, but one of his friends argued that the narrative seems too idealistic in the way it sugarcoats the harsh realities of the world. They had launched into a discussion of this topic with different opinions from each one of Taehyung’s friends, giving their own input as to why this is damaging or healing.

The discussion was intense and at some point even they made you voice your thoughts on the matter as someone who doesn’t see the world through a lens like the rest of them. Your answer, of course, made them groan because it aligns with your boyfriend’s opinion, giving the impression that you were just saying things to support him even though it was your honest thoughts on the topic. Taehyung had given you a huge grin before squeezing you in a side-hug, relaying his gratitude silently. The conversation continued in a good-manered banter, soon after shifting to the techniques used in Taehyung’s photographs.

The words being thrown around sounded so foreign to you, who was only able to recognize the terms composition and exposure. Something about positioning, lighting, coloring, editing.. you tuned them out after a while. Despite so, you didn’t miss the way Taehyung talked animatedly about his craft, responding to each and every query from his friends with enthusiasm. It was clear from the discussion that everyone in the club is really passionate about this, about the things they want to tell through photographs, about the message each of them carries in every frame they capture.

Sometimes you wonder how it feels to be that passionate about something.

You have your own interests and hobbies, of course, ones you even think are your passion in life that you’d continue doing for the rest of your life. You spend weeks, months, years to perfect your own art until you’re confident that you have put out the best results and can proudly present them to the world. Surely, this is your passion, your life calling, you’re meant to do this for as long as you live. For a moment, you truly believed that.

Soon after, reality turns bleak as you come to a realization that your best does not even come close to someone else’s worst. Every corner you turn, there’s always someone with more things to offer; more appeal, more elegance, more eloquence. Your best result, the one you created with all the effort you could muster, paled in comparison to them. Hell, it was annihilated, utterly destroyed without a trace left. You’d watched your dreams crash and burn, taking your confidence with them.

Striped off your art, your passion, you’re left with a gaping hole of what else? What else do you have to offer to the world? What else do you have in you that’s worth showing off? What else can you do to prove your worth? What else can you do if not this?

Those questions play themselves in an endless loop inside your head, plaguing your mind day in, day out. There are times when they’re not as loud, only serving as background noise while you go through your day, but you find there are more times that they are roaring in your ears like thunder prior to a storm. They get worse whenever you see people talking about what they do with so much fervor, the fire in their eyes reflecting in your empty ones. Your fire was long gone even before it was able to be ablaze.

Often times, it makes you wonder whether you’ll ever be good enough without a passion.

“Honey? Sweetheart?”

Your boyfriend’s voice brings you out of your thoughts. It sounds even deeper than normal, indicating that he just woke up. When you look down, though, his eyes are wide open and there’s concern in them, like he can hear the thunder that rumbled in your head moments prior. You hope not. It’s too early for him to be worried.

“Are you okay?” Uh, oh. “I called you like, five times before this. Thought you were still asleep, but you’re awake..” Taehyung turns in your hold, holding himself up using his right arm. The worry in his eyes doesn’t cease, and you hate to be the cause of it.

“I’m fine, Tae, why wouldn’t I be?” You press your lips into a faint smile, hoping he would just chalk it up to you being tired from the event last night. His left hand comes up to your cheek and you lean into the touch, unconsciously releasing a small sigh.

“You had that faraway look that you do whenever you’re thinking about something,” Taehyung says, his gaze analyzing your expression. “And this time, it’s paired with a frown,” he continues, the pad of his thumb lightly brushing over the corner of your lips which you try really hard to keep upturned. “You’re not fine, love.”

Another sigh escapes your lips as you close your eyes, hating the fact that your boyfriend knows you like the back of his hand.

“Yeah, it’s just..” How do you downplay this so he doesn’t get more worried? “..morning woes,” you settle. That should be enough. “Don’t worry about it, Tae.”

Your hand reaches for his head so you can go back to running your fingers through his hair like you were doing before he woke up, but he’s having none of it as he pushes himself to a sitting position, ridding you of his body warmth. “You saying that is the reason why I have to worry,” he counters. “Is it one of my friends? Or the guest? Did anyone make you uncomfortable last night?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” you rush to correct his assumptions. Although it is true that your spiraling thoughts started because of his friends, it’s not for the reason he’s thinking of. “It’s just me thinking too much, Tae, it’s okay,” you try to reassure him once again.

“About what?” Taehyung asks, eyes never leaving yours. You wish he’d turn his gaze somewhere else, because you’re not sure the clouds behind your irises can be hidden for much longer. You’d hate to taint this important moment for him with your clouds, dark and rumbling in your mind.

Apparently you’re silent for too long that he deems you’re back in your head again. “Hey, it’s okay.. you can tell me,” he whispers, thumb stroking your cheek gently. His eyes have gone softer now, no longer staring at you with concern swimming in his orbs. You should be relieved, happy that he’s not worried anymore, but somehow the emotion replacing that worry makes your heart tighten in your chest.

Love.

He’s staring at you with love. Gentle and quiet, like he’s saying it doesn’t matter what you have in your mind, doesn’t matter how dark the clouds are, doesn’t matter how much the storm is raging, he will always find your hand to hold and pull you out into the light. He will always love you, whether your head is filled with a ray of sunshine or a raging storm.

“Do you love me?” You say quietly. It’s almost rethorical, with the way his gaze has your answer even before you voice out the question.

“Yes, of course I love you.” It doesn’t even take a second for him to answer. “Is this what you were thinking about? Whether I love you or not?” Taehyung sounds genuinely surprised, maybe because it never occurred to him to doubt his love for you.

Instead of responding to his question, you put your arms around his shoulders and pull him down for a hug. It’s an uncomfortable position and his arms are bent at an awkward angle, but you don’t care. You need to let this man know that you’ve never doubted his love for you either, only the reason behind it and whether you deserve it or not.

“Love, will you tell me what’s going on?” Taehyung’s voice is muffled against your shoulder. You blink back tears that are threatening to spill out as you hide your face in the crook of his neck.

“Why do you love me, Tae?”

The whispered question makes him pull away from the hug to get a look at your expression. You lost your hiding place and have no choice but to let him see you in this state; glassy, red-rimmed eyes, vulnerable. Taehyung’s eyebrows slope downwards and he looks like he’s something between angry and upset. It occurs to you that the single sentence you let out could have been interpreted in so many different ways, so you rush to explain yourself.

“It’s not that — that I don’t believe that you love me. It’s just..” you take a deep breath and release it in a shaky sigh. “Why are you in love with me? I’m not as pretty as your other friends, I’m not talented, not even that smart. Heck, I quit doing my art because I wasn’t good enough at the thing I claimed to be my passion. I don’t have anything about me to be proud of, to be worthy of being loved. Why are you still with me? You could have anyone else that has so much more to offer than me..”

By the end of your explanation, tears have flown freely down your cheeks. It seems silly to be crying even before noon, but the demons inside your head don’t look at the time when they summon storms. You just wish Taehyung didn’t have to see this. He doesn’t deserve this version of you when he has given you nothing but his best.

“I’m still with you because you make me happy,” Taehyung says. He pulls you up into a sitting position before cupping your cheeks in his huge hands, thumbs brushing away your tears. He doesn’t stop even when they continue flowing out of your eyes.

“I’m still with you because you make me laugh with your one-liners, because you laugh at my jokes. I’m with you because you call my photos beautiful even when I think they’re not. I’m with you because you don’t get mad at me whenever I burn food and instead offer to clean up with me. I’m with you because you push me to be the best version of myself even without realizing it.

“You’re beautiful, talented, and smart, love. Even when you choose not to believe it yourself. You’re courageous, too, for deciding to quit when you felt it was too much for you. Many people might not agree with me, but it takes great courage and strength to be able to quit from something you’ve been doing for so long with so much effort. It’s okay if you don’t have something to be passionate about right now, I will be here for you until you find a new one, or maybe get back to the one you left.”

Taehyung smiles, and your sobs get uglier.

“I love you for all the reasons you think you don’t deserve to be loved for, so you can quit worrying about it, okay?”

You sob loudly and he chuckles, endeared, as he pulls you back into his arms. His hands rub soothingly down your back, letting you cry on his shoulder without any complaints. Pressing his cheek against the top of your head, he releases a relieved sigh with a small smile.

“You know, it’s a wonder as well that you love me,” Taehyung laughs quietly. “I can’t cook, I’m terribly messy, and when I work on my project I ignore you for days. Do you remember the twenty missed calls you left because I fell asleep in the studio when preparing for the exhibition?”

You sniff and chuckle, your voice sounding funny when you talk because of your blocked nose. “That’s because you’re passionate. You just worried me when you didn’t pick up your phone, thought you were dead from exhaustion.” You clear your throat to get rid of the scratchiness of your voice. “Also I don’t mind that you can’t cook, as long as you stay updated on delivery places so we have something different to eat every day.”

“You don’t mind that I can’t cook because you can’t cook either, love.”

“Yeah, that too.”

Taehyung lets out another chuckle as he squeezes your form, peppering your head with kisses. You both stay like that for a while, enjoying each other’s body warmth. It allows you to settle the storm inside your head, now only a pitter-patter against the window in your mind. Soon, it’ll be filled with sunshine again. You believe it will.

“Can I ask you about something?” Taehyung says after minute of being silent. You hum your affirmation, allowing him to continue. “What triggered you? To think about all of that this early in the morning?”

“It’s almost eleven, Tae, not early at all,” you muse, ignoring the first part of his question. You let out a sigh when he gives no response to your joke. “Just.. meeting your friends last night. They’re fine, I swear! But the way you guys were talking about the exhibition, about photography in general.. it made me realize how passionate you all are and made me wonder why I can’t be that passionate towards something as well. Yeah, there you go.”

“Oh, love..” Taehyung sighs.

“Also, your friends are really pretty and talented, I couldn’t help but feel insecure, you know?” You add, tone light and playful to let your boyfriend know that you’re okay now. Even if there’s some truth to your words. “Who’s the one who has dark blue hair? I saw the shot she showed you on her phone, it was really beautiful and stuck with me the most.”

“Oh, that’s Min Yoonji. If you remember Yoongi from the club last year, she’s his twin. Yoongi couldn’t come last night so he sent her in his stead,” Taehyung explains. “You don’t have to be insecure, though. Yoonji might be pretty and talented, but she’s not you.”

You snort out a shy laugh. “Alright, I get it. Ease up on the flirting, will you?”

“Hey, I’m serious!” He laughs and it’s so contagious you find yourself laughing out loud as well. “Really, though, love. Okay?”

“Hmm,” you respond. Then, “I love you, Tae.”

“I love you too,” he replies. “Now can we get breakfast? Brunch? I’m starving.”

And as you laugh again, you think you’ll be fine. You think the storms will calm down into a drizzle, and the drizzle will soon let up to allow a ray of sunshine to pass through the clouds. There might even be a rainbow adorning the sky of your mind, and it will look picture-perfect just like how Taehyung captures the world in his lens.

You’ll be fine.

— a/n: thanks for reading! tell me your thoughts here :)

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soukokumychildren · 7 months

Text

Au Short

Well, this idea has been kind of buzzing around in my head for a long time but only recently with the help of another song, (of course...incidentally both of them have the name "Villian" as their title), I finally decided out the entire write and just went at it for like--two full hours or such lol. Anyway, here it is, I'm really proud on how it turned out! :D (Ps...this is far in the future and MASSIVE spoilers for my au...but heck it.)

It was a glorious night, stars obscured by a gloomy whirl of clouds hovering near to the tallest of Yokohama's skyscrapers. The structures were illuminated with tiny lights, all buildings alive and bustling, the outside even more so, with traffic moving home from work and parties being held all throughout the night, the ocassional vibration from a club not unfamiliar as you got used to the bustling surroundings. But somewhere in Yokohama, across the bridge, held warehouses.

And a certain man that stashed a secret organization away in one of those said warehouses was bristling. Because a pest was found among the buildings. The said certain pest was a man that went by the name Doppo Kunikida, bound by ribbons that felt like several layers of leather keeping his arms close to his sides. Red electricity zapped across the fabric, but it didn't affect its current prisoner. Kunikida lowered his head, dirty-blonde hair covering his gray eyes from view. Usually, it was neatly tucked back into a ponytail, but currently, it was scruffy, and strands stuck out from everywhere. He breathed heavily, the squirming he did achieved nothing to escape the bonds. The man looked down at his red necktie, black shirt and lime-yellow vest. But he wasn't looking at himself. He was looking down at his feet, where a green book was located, Japanese letters sprawled across its front, reading: Ideals. But not even his skill could aid him in this position.

He squinted at the distinct shape of his rectangular glasses, as they had clattered to the floor a minute ago. Footsteps approached, and his head snapped up. But without the aid of glasses, and the darkness surrounding, he was practically sightless.

"Isn't this quite the predicament?" Said a voice that usually was doused with the tone of singsong, but instead, sounded amused. And…cold. The shape bent over, retrieved the glasses, and held it up in front of Kunikida. His breath caught as he blinked rapidly. "Huh?" He asked after a moment, seeing the shape unfold the glasses and slip them onto his face. When the dirty-blonde adjusted, he shook his head in shock.

A much sharpened image of a brunette stood there. A bandage obscured his heavily scarred left eye, the remaning one red and smoldering with a burning anger that didn't quite reach his features. The scar on said eye ran down to the corner of his mouth, and it was deep. He smiled, arms crossed over his chest, a brown jacket covering a gray turtleneck, rolled up to the sleeves to reveal more bandages wound around his arm to wrists. A new addition had been recently added-a pair of black gloves concealing his hands. Another jacket, a seeming dark green draped over his shoulders, a black opal in a golden pendant strapped to his right shoulder.

"It seems we found a little roach running amidst in our territory." Dazai said silkily. Kunikida looked over his surroundings once he spotted boxes, more crates piled up haphazardly around the area. He couldn't read the inscriptions from his current standing point. His eyes followed the trail of black cloth to a man concealed half by shadow, and his eyes widened. Akutagawa Ryunosuke. The man had precariously cut black hair with slight bangs, piercing gray eyes, and hair that draped the sides of his face, framing his cheekbones. Their ends were white as if they were dipped in some sort of reverse-colored ink. The coat he wore had a sort of extended form of turtleneck that was wider than average, a sort of beige color that was relaxing on the eyes. Brown straps decorated his chest, winding around his shoulders and back. His coat was torn at the edges. Akutagawa rose his arm and lightly coughed into his hand, before providing Kunikida with a glare that seemed less menacing without eyebrows.

"You…" Kunikida snapped his head back to Dazai, who merely grinned wider.

"So, Kunikida," Dazai said silkily, lifting his wrist to check how taunt the bandages across his arm were. "What could someone like you be doing at a place like this at this hour?" Kunikida was acutely aware of the duel scythe blades attached to Dazai's sides, held by an endless supply of chains.

While the dirty-blonde thought of something to say, Dazai had answered for him. "Oh, so you've thought that you caught onto me being suspicious?" Dazai asked, red eyes glinting with malice as he met Kunikida's gaze. "Took you a while, it really did. I suspect all the others knew except you." Kunikida's eyes narrowed. "You aren't the Dazai I know." The brunette tutted, stepping closer to Kunikida, and suddenly, his back was bathed in a silver glow from the moon behind him, gracing the night with a full shape, albeit a bit obscured from the clouds that loomed over the city.

"Oh but I am, you see. I'm the very Dazai you know, love and appreciate." Kunikida scoffed, and Dazai shot him a look, void of emotion, though his eyebrow twitched upward. "But I wear a mask, you see. Always hidden behind the several masks I’ve programmed myself to adapt to. It just seems you were always too slow to catch on.~" "Like hell! Reveal who you really are!" Dazai gave him an unamused expression, sighing, and working the fingertip of one of his gloves off. "You really are useless. I sometimes do wonder why the Agency thought you were a good hire," he sighed breezily. "How absolutely DARE-" But he was promptly slapped with leather fabric to the side of his cheek, shutting him up immediately. His eyes landed on a shape that shouldn't have shocked him to his core, but still shook him nonetheless. Strong legs dangling off a large crate, swayed, gray boots meeting up to the mans knees. He wore a shirt crisscrossed with belts horizontally and vertically, with a tie laid over his chest and held to his black shirt with a gray clip. Sleeves rolled up to show scarred arms that had black bandages wound around the wrist with black gloves overlaying them to a point. Ginger hair rolled off the mans shoulders gracefully, a cross between masculine and feminine, sharp, cerulean hawk-like eyes wandering to find Kunikida's gaze. More scars decorated his cheeks, a black hat perched on his head with a brown based rim, a chain rolling off the lip, a blue crystal glinting in the moonlight. He raised his brow, just a hair higher, when Kunikida looked at him, baffled. Aghast, even.

Dazai slipped his glove back on. "Come here, my love." Dazai commanded, voice booming across the warehouse. Chuuya barely hesitated, sliding off the crates and leaping down gracefully, and striding over to Dazai. He scrunched his nose, giving Kunikida a glare as he went to Dazai's left side, protecting his blind spot instinctually, despite being shorter and less imposing at Dazai’s side. A magnificent maroon wing stretched and spread behind Dazai, incasing his backside in a protective, feathery shield, light pink feathers embedded on the underside of Chuuya’s wings.

“Chuuya!” Kunikida suddenly yelled without thinking, and the redhead let himself slowly look at the man. “Atleast you have some sense of decency! Tell him to let me out immediately! I beg you!” Chuuya sneered. “Don’t Chuuya me like you know me, Kunikida.” He said, with a tone so full of venom, that the dirty-blonde shuddered. “What��?” Kunikida asked, exasperated. “Don’t think for a second that you’re my friend.” Chuuya stated simply, yet darkly, his feathers rustling as he sidled up closer to the brunette. “Not here, and most certainly not now.” Kunikida was taken aback, and he tried to slide backwards uneasily, but the ribbons of black cloth extended to his legs, rendering him immobile.

“What do you want?!” The dirty-blonde burst out, starting to feel the endless cycle of terror start to take hold over his brain. “Simple,” sighed the brunette. “You’ve treaded and trespassed across our territory. You must pay the price, as you know. People like us don’t take things lightly.” Dazai’s grin widened, and his expression darkened. Kunikida recoiled physically, eyes widening with a stroke of fear.

“Let’s see…what kind of punishment can I inflict on you that would be…fitting.” Dazai cocked his head in Chuuya’s direction. “Be a good dog and fetch me something appropriate for this occasion, will you?” The brunette asked, closing his eye and waving his wrist. The redhead studied him for a moment, his eyes narrowing to dangerous slits, before slipping away behind a big crate, and returning swiftly with a pistol in hand, crafted out of dark-gray-blue metal.

Dazai took the weighty weapon of artillery, and nonchalantly twirled it by the trigger hole with a finger, smiling to Kunikida. “What the hell are you doing?! Don’t you work for the Agency!?” Kunikida blurted out desperately, eyeing the pistol with pure terror. Dazai’s smile cracked. He doubled over. And threw his head back, releasing a disturbing cackle of laughter at Kunikida’s desperation. Chuuya gazed at him emotionlessly. “But of course I work for the Agency!” Agreed the brunette, amused. “Doesn’t mean I can’t do anything on the side, now. Hmmmm?” “If the President knew about this—!” “He works with us in this organization as well. I appreciate the effort though.” No shine of life glinted in Dazai’s eyes, an eerie aura rolling off him in waves. “You—“ Dazai cocked the gun, aimed and pulled the trigger, shooting a bullet through Kunikida’s right shoulder. A blast of blood spewed from the other side, scarlet as it splashed like a fountain, the bullet going right through. Kunikida howled in pain, writhing in place, still held firmly in one spot by Akutagawa’s ability, Rashomoun. “Be a bit more quieter, will you? Your voice is starting to grate upon my ears.” Dazai said cooly, snorting.

As the dirty-blonde gasped, shuddering in agony, blood seeped into his clothes. He raised his head to glare at Dazai. “You….are a monster…” “Thank you for the compliment,” chimed Dazai, and then unloaded another bullet into Kunikida’s foot when he saw it trying to maneuver closer to his ideals. It penetrated through his shoe easily, providing no protection from the bullet. The man cried in agony, and Dazai merely watched, unbothered by the fact he had shot his co-worker twice with bullets. Blood spurt out of his foot. “But I think I warned you to stay quiet, didn’t I?” Kunikida grimaced as he looked back up, catching Chuuya snarling deeply at him.

“Hey Akutagawa,” called Dazai, tilting his head in the man’s direction. “Why don’t you escort our guest from the grounds?” “Huh? Wait!!” The dirty-blonde, regardless, writhed again, refusing to leave. Not until he recieved answers. A beat held between before Dazai held his hand up to stop Akutagawa from undergoing the task.

“Let me guess,” Dazai overly sighed, pressing fingers to his temples. “You want to know why I’m doing this, right?” Kunikida opened his mouth to speak, but Dazai went over him, walking around Kunikida in circles. “You’ve heard rumors and decided to see if they were true. The all great and liable Dazai Osamu running an underground criminal organization? And right from under the governments nose?” He gasped dramatically. “Oh my, that sounds like a bunch of hocus pocus, huh?” He chuckled, as if this were some hilarious sick joke. “But,” He grasped at Kunikida’s uninjured shoulder from behind, grinning against the man’s backside. “You had to find out, make sure the rumors weren’t true. So you wanted to catch me in the act, didn’t you?” He circled Kunikida once more before settling back infront of him, Chuuya at his back and keeping close with his partner. “Yes, but—“ Kunikida began, and was once again interrupted. By…clapping. Dazai was clapping. “Well, congratulations. You’ve caught me.” He flicked his hand upward. “Release him.”

Akutagawa did so, but after a moments hesitation. Kunikida nearly fell, dizzy from the blood loss, but he forced himself to keep himself upright. Suddenly, he was tossed an object, and he clambered and fumbled with the item before he got a good grasp on it. …The gun he was shot with. Kunikida looked up, confused. Dazai spread his arms wide—even catching Chuuya off guard, hence the fact his eyes widened.

“You’ve caught me doing something illegal, Kunikida,” Dazai chirped, as light as a feather, grinning widely. “Shoot me. As someone who works for the government, it’s your job, is it not?” The manipulation tactic was working. Kunikida was hesitating, and he wasn’t moving. And he was flabbergasted. Or maybe he couldn’t.

After several heavy seconds of silence, his arm dropped to his side, though a little exaggerated, shaking his head. “It’s against my morals.” Kunikida choked, gripping the pistol tightly. He didn’t know what to do. Dazai’s grin widened, his arms returning to his sides. The man was breaking down. “But I have to,” Kunikida said, dropping to his knees, landing on his hands. He didn’t even regiester the pain in his foot nor shoulder anymore. “But if the President is also here, then….what…?” Dazai watched the dirty-blonde fall apart with a sadistic smile, arm sliding around Chuuya’s waist. The redhead leaned into the touch, tilting his head into Dazai’s shoulder and tucking his wings. “Kunikida,” he said, loud enough to capture the dirty-blonde’s attention. “This organization kills, but we kill for the greater good.” Perhaps it would ease Kunikida. Perhaps it wouldn’t. “This organization alone balances this city out more than the Port Mafia or the government ever could. We deal with stronger threats than the Agency can handle,” his voice boomed, and Kunikida stopped shaking, just to listen. “But you kill—” “People die all the time, Kunikida.” “….” The dirty-blonde looked up, a set of blue eyes and one red one staring down at his hunched-over form. “We’re doing things for the better, not for worse. These people hurt other people, the ones we take care of.” Kunikida opened and closed his mouth like some form of flabbergasted Venus fly trap. “We may not be as kind as the agency. But we do it to protect this city—nothing more, nothing less.” “I can’t be certain of this information!” Barked Kunikida, snatching up his ideals. “You could be lying to me!”

Dazai’s grin was smothered, quickly turning into a frown. He crossed his arms again, side stepping into Chuuya. “I suppose you’ll never be sure.” He looked back to Akutagawa. “If you please, escort him out of our estate. We’re done here.” Dazai whisked away, Chuuya following as they turned towards the crates, walking away. “HEY!” Kunikida screamed, and Akutagawa’s tendrils wound around his legs and yanked him backward, before throwing him out of the warehouse, the door closing behind. As soon as Kunikida regained footing, the doors were already closed, and the possibility of gathering answers was no more. (By the way, if any of you are wondering where they're located and I wasn't very descriptive of the area, here's a link to a drawing I did a good bit ago.)

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #chuuya nakahara #au #soukoku #dazai osamu #dazai x chuuya #avian #akutagawa ryuunosuke #kunikida doppo #bungou stray dogs #bsd au #writing #story #short story #writing short #i love how i wrote this

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runner-owen · 2 years

Text

Too Curious [GN human reader x vampire]

You knew better than to explore the vampire church you found. You went back anyway. He was waiting for you.

Part 1 of ? - Stray

[SFW. Dark content ahead, ask to tag]

Forbidden. The word curls around your tongue, wraps around your thoughts like smoke. Forbidden. It settles in your chest, in your belly, in your hands that clench your bedding at night. Forbidden. It’s forbidden.

Your numb lips press together as you hurry through the dark. Far too cold a night to be out. Far greater dangers than vampires roamed the streets of Theria. You pull your cloak tighter around yourself, and don't stop. No, nothing will stop you now.

Forbidden. That made you want it all the more.

You’d recognized it from all the books you’d read. A few twists in the streets, a hidden door left open - like fate, like destiny, the darker world revealed itself to you. There was no denying what you’d found. The statues, the scuffed floor, the dust that danced in the moonlight. An altar without cloth or candles standing before a portrait of the Goddess. Not the Goddess reborn, black winged, sword in hand. Not the Goddess as Champion on her dragonic steed. Corpus Daea, the Goddess in death, still chained in her flower-filled grave. At her side, five figures hover, and even though their images, too, are taboo, you know them. You know where you are.

You’re stupid to go back. But the pull is too strong, like the scent of meat to a starving dog. You can’t resist the need inside you. You have to go back. You have to.

In the darkness, the click of your boots echo. Your breath traces up into the half-hidden sky. The door is near, the door is here, it opens without a squeal at your touch.

The church is unchanged. A ceiling that stretches up into the dark. Cracked and damaged statues of winged strangers, precious artifacts salvaged from another time, their white exterior stained red. Holy metal dangles from ribbon, clicks and sings and brushes together - Lockets, you understand now, each containing a soul. It’s like looking into a mirror of another time.

Into the forbidden sanctuary, you press on. And it is the same as you remember from the day before.

But no, it’s not.

Those footsteps are not yours.

The darkness shifts, a candle flickers to a golden glow. A man stands before the altar, his robes streamlined and smooth black. His hidden eyes turn away from the book in his hands. Hidden eyes, red eyes, burning beneath the dark mask and silk veil that drapes from it.

Your mouth goes dry. Inside you, something collapses into boneless relief.

The vampire speaks.

“So the stray returns,” he says. “The lamb lost from the flock seeks sanctuary among wolves.”

His fingers run down the inside of the book, tracing the path of the letters within the holy text. You do not look away from those smooth pale hands, gloveless hands, as they close the book. No dust flares up as the man sets the book on the stone altar. Someone cleansed it in the brief time between the last visit and now.

“You knew?” you whisper.

“We all knew,” he says.

With a shrug, a shift of his arms, the robe of fallen stars pushes off his shoulders. You suck in a breath. Beneath it, dark, starched clothes, deep purple vest. The hideous mockery of the Goddess’ emblem, with her and her children, rests over where his heart lays. He grips the dark left sleeve of his shirt. Rolls the fabric, once and twice and thrice. The forearms revealed are strong, and all but stripped of the color that should have been in their veins.

“Are you afraid?” He raises his hand to his head, brushes a strand of blond hair away from the mask. The veil shifts, a smile below it catches your focus now.

You cannot speak. You nod your head.

“Strays…” the man, the priest, says. The sleeve of his other arm is rolled up now, when did he do that? “You are certainly a pleasure to work with, compared to the ferals I have known.”

“W-What?” Your words are shaking, breathless.

“Should I not be the one asking that question?” He steps towards you. You hear no footsteps now. “An undomesticated human, wild and pure, wanders into our most private sanctuary, as if guided by the gods themselves…”

He’s fast. He’s halfway to you already.

“What would ever possess you to do such a thing?”

You stumble back. Slip. It’s not the floor you hit, it's one of the wooden pews you now sit in. The veil shivers, his smile grows.

“Don’t you know who we are?”

A hand grips the pew by your head. Your gaze jerks towards it. Jerks back forward, down, to the legs sinking on either side of your own. He’s taller than you, he’s stronger than you, by far. The powerful body presses against you, and the eyes that watch you hunger.

His finger lifts your chin up, to look into his scarlet eyes. They burn. Your eyes water. No. You can’t listen. You can’t obey. No. No.

You can’t obey.

You obey.

“I was curious,” you whisper.

“Curious?” He repeats, and the low tone sends strange shivers through you. “Curious…”

His finger pulls away. The soft fabric of the veil brushes against your skin.

“So be it,” he says.

You open your eyes and the scream traps in your throat.

You know him.

“No--”

Without the mask, there’s no denying what you’re seeing. The clawmark scars on his face are unmistakable. You’ve seen them in every newspaper, every warning pamphlet. You’ve seen them exaggerated to grotesque delight on the posters for the music hall performances.

He is the Scarred Man, high priest of the clans, and you are worse than dead.

“No--”

“Foolish little lamb.” His breath is cool on your skin. “What did you think the price of curiosity was?”

You cannot move. You cannot breathe. But he can. His lips brush a gentle kiss on your cheeks, and follow the path of your skin. Your fingers dig into the exposed skin of his arms, and he hisses against your flesh.

“No--!”

A pinprick of pain. Your vision hazes over. You hold on shaking, shaking, as your eyelids grow heavy with sleep. With poison. You cannot think. You cannot hold on. As the blood inches down your skin, lapped up by a rough tongue, your body surrenders.

Your eyes close into dreamless sleep.

#runner owen series #vampire fiction #vampcore #reader pov #reader insert #reader x vampire #gothic horror #gothic fantasy #gothic romance #human x vampire #vampire x human #ask to tag #writblr #vampire story #written by coffee

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fairy-seong · 3 years

Text

kim seokwoo x fem!reader

genre: smut, romance, fluff-ish (?) i am not sure i suck at writing cute things

warning(s): sexual content, oral (fem), possible grammar mistakes rowoon talking too much

song suggestion: onlyoneof - cOy

Seokwoo always wondered if you sensed it as well, the feeling like electricity going through your veins when you were together. When he held you close. When you held him close. Each embrace a little tighter, each kiss a little more intimate.

You blink at him through droopy eyelids, the smile not once fading as his fingertips clasp at your skin. Your pajama top rides up when you stir your position, gripping his forearm because of his tickling.

He leans on his elbows, pausing his actions for a moment, eyes gazing back into yours. You fidget with the hem of your sleeve. Your smile thins and a faint pink shade spreads on your cheeks. He always made your heart race when he stared at you like you put the stars in the sky.

“Do you know how adorable you are? You always get so shy when...”

“Because you stare at me too much,” you mumble your response.

“How can I help it when my tiny baby looks so cute?”

You lift your palms trying to hide your face, but Seokwoo is quicker than you expect by pinning your wrists to the side of your face. He giggles and presses his lips against yours. He is still smiling throughout the kiss while your arms wrap around his broad shoulders. You can feel his weight on yours, one of his hands coming down to your waist.

Seokwoo glances at your bare skin, your pajama bottoms hanging lower on your hips than usual. He never asked, not wanting to rush you, but images of you crumbling under his touch, broken whimpers falling from your plush lips were always in the back of his mind.

He peeks back at your face with uncertainty. He ponders over his next action, gulping down when you raise your eyebrows. Your eyes follow his gaze down, his palms getting a little sweaty as you flash a shy smile. You knew what he was thinking about; you could always guess from the way he grew a little restless, brown eyes turning dark. And you wanted it too. You were sure of it.

“Can you kiss me again?”

“I can kiss you all day long if that is what you want, baby,” he murmurs against your lips.

Seokwoo’s kisses always leave you breathless and needy. Wanting more of this. More of him.

You move your hips as he deepens the kiss. Allowing the moment to take over your mind and body as you grind against his thigh. He seems surprised, bringing his leg closer to your core. His full body tenses when a choked moan reaches his ears. You blink rapidly, blushing and burying your head in his chest when you lock eyes with the wet spot you left on his gray sweatpants.

“Are you sure? I can wait if you...”

You shake your head. “I want it. I want you.”

“I just want you to be happy.”

“I am, with you," you let go of the rest of your thoughts, guiding his palm in between your thighs.

Seokwoo licks his lips as he helps you take off your pants. His eyes widen at the sight of your pink-laced underwear. It was adorable, just like you; it was even more adorable that you still tried to cover yourself up with a flushed face.

“Baby, don’t,” he complains “you’re so beautiful to me. You have no idea.”

Butterfly kisses cover your lower abdomen, making your smile return. Seokwoo always made it so easy for you to feel comfortable, to feel confident in your body. He can’t contain calling you beautiful like it is your name.

Your breath gets caught in your throat when his nose brushes over your clothes pussy, lips pressed over the fabric.

“Can I kiss you here?”

You barely nod when Seokwoo tugs at the soaked underwear, revealing your lower body fully. He keeps your legs open with both hands, lips kissing your inner thighs painfully slow. He nips on that sensitive spot which earned a sharp breath from you barely a moment ago.

“Are you sure you want this, baby? If I start kissing you, I will not be able to stop.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to stop either,” your voice is already shaking when he breathes hot air over your pussy.

He barely touched you, but you were already dripping all over yourself and his new satin sheets. But Seokwoo doesn’t care. Hell, he would give everything to see you like this every day. His thumb moves in circles against your clit, Seokwoo’s head laying on your thigh watching the way your body twitches, limbs getting weak.

He waited so long for this that he is not able to hold back for a long time. He kisses your pussy fully, lips dragging over the side and tongue moving along your slit. You hear a low grunt as you try to close your thighs instinctively, Seokwoo’s arms rushing to hold your hips in place again.

He hums sweetly against your pussy about how sweet you are while his licks get more intense. He wants to make you feel everything; wants to give you everything.

“Do you like it, baby? Do you love the way my lips feel on your body?”

Your answer comes faster than expected as a short whine. It drives him crazier than he ever imagined seeing you become putty in his hands... and mouth.

He laps at your pussy again, greedily wanting to taste you more and turn those shy whimpers into eager moans. Fingers dig into your hips and you grip the sheets a little harder. Your thighs close around his head when he continues to suck on your clit, teeth grazing over the delicate spot.

One of your hands tangles in his black hair, unconsciously tugging at the messy strands when his right arm cups your ass. He lifts your bottom slightly, pulling you towards him. Giving your pussy kitten licks, Seokwoo lifts his head to look into your eyes.

“Does it feel good, baby?”

It almost makes you want to curse seeing how hot he looks between your legs, his lips covered in you, juices dripping to his chin. He licks everything with a grin, pressing a teasing kiss right next to your slit. His breath fans over your cunt, asking you if you can moan for him.

And you do. Breathy moans and unrestrained whispers of his name filling the room as he continues to kiss and lick each part of your pussy. It felt like heaven, the way Seokwoo knew exactly what to do to have you arch your back and roll your eyes back in ecstasy.

“Love,” you struggle to form a coherent sentence between all the whines, “I want to feel more than your tongue inside me. Please,” you almost beg, gripping the sheets again.

#sf9 smut #rowoon #sf9 imagines #sf9 x reader #rowoon smut #rowoon imagines #rowoon x reader #the world needs more rowoon

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parkerlyn · 3 years

Note

(if this is ok to request!) "slowly kissing down the body for sysba/oisein please?

ANON PLZ AKSJDHDKS ❤️❤️❤️ Giving us an excuse to extend the birthday party 🎉 Happy twiniversary for Attollo and The Nameless mwah❤️

(crossover and collaboration with @attollogame as a follow up to the recent makeup art. 18+ MINORS DNI PLEASE, will reblog their Sysba POV so give it a sec if you're just seeing this without the Attollo reblog 👀)

Blood red color smooths like velvet over their parted lips, a gentler caress compared to the harsh, cold fingers holding their chin in place. They can't help smirking at being pampered and painted, given who stands before them - the same person (being? God?) digging their nail in harder at the movement.

"Stop squirming," comes a frustrated tone, followed by a sharp tsk and a sneer below black void-like eyes.

Oisein huffs dramatically through a grin, only daring to speak now that the lipstick is a few inches away and there's no risk of destroying Sysba's masterpiece."Only if you promise to ruin it later."

Another tight squeeze as the sheevra's chin is lifted, a thumb roughly running over their unmarked bottom lip. Face splitting with a hungry smile, Sysba moves themself close enough to share, or possibly steal, a breath between them.

"Maybe if you behave," they whisper - command - back, letting the word linger in the space like a baited hook that draws Oisein forward. “And only after I get to show you off.”

A pleased hum is the only response, just audible over the low bass of La Rumeur. It’s a song and dance that’s practically become routine. Familiar, even. A word Oisein doesn’t usually value - but in this case they can make an exception.

An hour (or more) of being dressed up before spending part of the evening being paraded around, lounging near Sysba as they watch other club-goers try to snatch their attention, and fail. Matching golden jewelry glints like stars, orbiting in the gravity of Sysba’s finessed sharp edges and Oisein’s deceptively soft smile. There’s a sense of boasting, gloating satisfaction in the way the eldritch runs their fingers over the sheevra’s neck in the open balcony for all to see.

A dare and a taunt. Look what I have and you don’t.

The edge of teeth inching closer to their jawline. Look what I’ll have later, and you’ll never know.

And if there’s a chance to secure a name or two to heighten the ecstasy they know will come, then all the better. (Well...within reason.‘Just don’t be sloppy,’ Sysba’s voice echoes).

But inevitably - blissfully - the pretty mask is left behind, discarded by the strip lighting of the stairs and under the dark revolving lights. Abandoned in the deep, guttural tones of the music thrumming through the walls and the ceiling, and thrown past the quickly locked door into the echoes of envious whispers.

And eventually - rapturously - all that’s left is crashing lips and hands and skin and bodies, quickly marked in that familiar blood red. A furious need to ravage, to have, with no time to come up for air.

Oisein’s back finds the silky edge of the bed first as they drown in the taste of Sysba’s tongue against theirs, the cool fabric noticeable even through their infuriatingly-still-on-their-body clothes. The makeup so carefully applied before runs rivers of scarlet far past the sides of their mouths, eddies and pools of color marking over ears, across cheeks, under jaws. All heightened by the muted red glow of the lamps around the darkened room, and the deep black shadows that shy away from the light reflecting off the ornate glass chandelier.

There’s a low moan.

Bed, it says.

A throaty hum in return.

Well, what are you waiting for?

Which is all Oisein needs to sink backwards, pulling, aching to keep the contact constant while lips move to their neck. Their back arches before they even hit the sheets, a fervent hiss when lips move onto cloth and remove their warmth from their bare skin. They start to move a hand upward to shift Sysba’s mouth back to the freckles dusted under their jaw-

“Sanctin…”

-only to feel a sudden pull against their head and a resonant, threatening voice in their ear.

“Isn't the name you should be calling.”

Dark pupils rise in their periphery while a hand grabs at their dirtied blond hair, strands catching on the rings still present and pulled tight within the god’s fist. Though the pain lances into Oisein’s skull, the pleasure coursing in their veins thrives and feeds on the feeling. They just manage to clamp down on the whimper building at the back of their tongue, but the shiver running through their chest betrays them.

The sheevra’s crown is pulled back to expose their neck again as Sysba gives a small, chiding shake of their head before returning to their task with a ravenous intent.

The brunette’s fist adjusts to maintain control, pinning down another arm in the wake of the movement while their other hand wraps finger by finger around the free wrist. They follow the path of red down across a jaw while their legs find more purchase on the edge of the bed, hiking their thighs underneath willing legs and splaying them open. All thought leaves Oisein except for the determination to hook their heels into the back of Sysba’s knees and bring them closer, ignoring the knowing chuckle escaping those bloodied, swollen lips.

But there’s still plenty of work to be done, as Sysba’s mouth transitions to cloth again alongside another frustrated groan vibrating through their lover’s chest. They bare their teeth then, biting through cloth and into the flesh of a collar on the notes of a gasp. Moving onto the gap in the cloth, they tease along the edge of the shirt’s window, a chuckle reverberating back when Oisein’s body curves to meet them. An elbow forces down on the sheevra’s side with another warning while they rock their waist down, teasing out a pitched whine that accompanies a burst of spots in Oisein’s vision.

And then, of course, they move torturously past the unobstructed skin, a patch that looks odd in its unmarked clarity. The cruelty continues as a mocking pressure is applied beneath their ribs, then their stomach, and then at the curve of their hips, a keen mouth edging closer to actually giving them an inch of release...

But a sigh of relief still echoes out from Oisein when they finally feel Sysba relax their grip and begin to loosen the blond’s shirt from the hem of their pants, pulling it free and quickly sliding their palms up over freckled skin and under the dark purple cloth. Cold fingers send more goosebumps washing over the tanned chest and into their shoulders as they’re permitted to lift their arms, hastily tugging and throwing aside the clothing into some inky corner to be forgotten.

Their skin is bare and far too clean, chest rapidly rising and falling. Impatience and greed demands them to reach downward, fingers sliding over their body to undo the clasp at their dark hemline, and the others to pull Sysba forward by the shirt they intend to tear off-

Only to have both hands ripped away and pinned mercilessly above their head.

Sysba only needs one hand to keep them securely restrained while a thumb seeks the sheevra’s lips again, lavender gaze widened with a mixture of shock and excitement. Fingers stain on the bright color smeared over Oisein’s chin, this time free in their want and painting a path of rubies over their open throat. The sheevra in question feels their lungs burning, eagerly awaiting for their senses to be filled with the intoxicating smell of sweat and perfume. Awaiting the moment they’ll be devoured by an insatiable lust, praying devoutly with anticipation as Sysba bends over to their ear.

“Now, now,“ coos the god, prepared to punish. “What did I say about behaving?”

#the spiciness #crossover #interactive fiction #interactive novel #the nameless #tnif #attollo #sysba #oisein #sysein #nsft #happy sunday LMAO

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sarcasmandships · 3 years

Text

honey and glass ~ spencer reid

i am in love with spencer reid but he only has eyes for jennifer jareau

spencer reid x reader angst + hurt/comfort (sorta, it’s all in first person but with no names/no specific descrptions)

song fic inspired by ‘honey and glass’ by peyton cardoza

word count: 4.8k

disclaimer: i do not ship jeid or think they had any chemistry but it’s a good opportunity for angst x

you know those kinds of girls who look like they're made of honey and glass like sticky sweet ash

it’s a summers night in california and i’m on the beach at sunset.

the sand is rough under my toes and a warm, gentle breeze blows a strand of my hair across my face; he lifts his hand to brush it away. tucking it behind my ear he stares down at me and the sun hits his face at a perfect angle, illuminating his hazel eyes like pools of honey. he leans in and i-

“ow!” i yelp, as morgan launches the volleyball at my head, “what was that for?”

“come and play,” he laughs, waving me over to where he stands with emily and hotch.

i shake my head, “no, i don’t feel like it,” i mumble, massaging my left temple where the ball bounced off my skull.

morgan rolls his eyes and jogs past where i’m sitting to collect the ball, “what’s up with you then?” he teases.

i shrug, “nothing. I’m just tired,” i say feigning an unconvincing yawn, “ask one of them to play.”

i motion with my head towards spencer and jj, they’re down by the edge of the waves and she throws her head back and laughs at something he says. her sheets of blonde hair ripple through the wind and he looks at her in pure awe and amazement as she giggles at something he said.

“nah, don’t wanna interrupt the kid when he’s trying to make a move,” morgan shrugs, “come play with us, we need an extra person.”

an extra person.

right.

because what else am i but another body to fill the space?

“i don’t want to,” i say, forcing myself to tear my eyes away from jj and spencer as i stand up, “hotch said the jet is leaving first thing tomorrow, i’m gonna head back to the hotel and get some sleep.”

morgan says something, but i don’t register it as i allow myself one last glance at spencer and jj. she is trying to convince him to paddle in the waves with her, he shakes his head but when she takes his hand in hers i can tell he’s melting inside as he follows her into the water.

and i just know that he’d follow her so far out to sea that his head was underwater as long as she kept their hands intertwined.

i turn away from morgan so he doesn’t see the tears burning in my eyes.

and you can't get the taste off your tongue burnt sugar and a little bit of rum

we’re in a dimly lit bar somewhere.

hotch left hours ago, he wanted to take advantage of one of the rare nights he would be there to read jack a bedtime story.

rossi is at a table in the corner, sitting with a woman who has not-so-subtly draped her leg over him.

derek is out of my line of sight and i’m thankful for that.

emily, garcia, and jj are dancing.

i sit at the table with spencer, he’s drunk.

more tipsy than drunk i think, but he so rarely drinks anything that the sight of him swaying along to the music was an anomaly. i can’t ignore the fact that his eyes are firmly fixed on jj as she dances, and i grip my wine glass so tightly i half expect it to shatter in my hand.

he leans across to me and my heart skips a beat as i inhale the alcohol on his breath, “i’m in love with her, y’know,” he slurs.

“i know, spencer,” i smile sadly and down the rest of my wine.

he doesn’t even notice when i grab my coat from behind him and shuffle towards the door.

and she dances in the rain with her clothes on drenched to the bone never knows when she's all gone, she's the life of the party

spencer and i are watching the big bang theory.

neither of us particularly like it, but there aren’t many channels on our hotel room tv and spencer enjoys the physics references at least. i watch his face light up as a character mentions something about quantum theory that i cant understand, and spencer launches into a rant about the universe and the stars.

i don’t have the knowledge to keep up with him or the heart to tell him to stop so i sit and listen, admiring the way his eyes sparkle and his hands gesticulate when no one interrupts him with a deprecating comment.

we sit there like that for the rest of the night, in our respective twin beds with him telling me the secrets of the universe and me wondering how on earth i will ever get over him.

and deep down I know that nobody flinches when she takes off her clothes

“anything you like?” emily asks me through the dressing room curtain.

“i’m not sure…” i mumble in response, biting down on my lip as i stare at myself in the mirror, “i-i don’t think this is my colour.”

the dress looked so beautiful on the hanger, but now that it’s on my body the fabric bunches up in all the wrong places and i can’t recall a time that i’ve looked worse.

the lights are just washing you out, i tell myself.

you’re having a bad hair day, it would look better with your hair down, i tell myself.

you just need some lipstick, i tell myself.

but when jj announces she has found the perfect dress and i stick my head out of the curtain to see her, i am slapped in the face with the realisation that it isn’t the lighting or my lack of makeup it’s just me.

because jj looks beautiful as always, her dress hugs her waist and the skirt fans out around her as emily demands she gives us a spin. she isn’t wearing makeup, her hair is in a ponytail too, the lights don’t wash her out because she is radiant and flawless, and the lights aren’t the problem.

i am.

i cry in my car as i drive home from the mall, and when i get home i tear everything out of my fridge and fling it into the trashcan. i vow to go to the store and stock up on salad and chicken.

i go to the store but i don’t buy salad.

and I wonder what it's like to be one of those girls to sit in the sun and look at the world and never think, "wow, am i enough?" ‘cause life is easy when you know that you're the main character

i’m in hotch’s office as he grills me about a stupid mistake i made in the field. i can hardly focus on his words as i shrink back in the chair, counting all the reasons that i don’t deserve to be in this job.

i’m not as smart or fast or strong as the others. i don’t have an eidetic memory or hacker skills and i can’t even maintain myself as a solid average agent because i keep fucking up.

“i’m not going to write you up,” he says, and my heart soars a little in my chest, “but i need you to understand that if you do something like that again i won’t have any choice, you were lucky no one got hurt today.”

i nod silently and blink back the tears that threaten to spill over.

“go home, get some rest,” he says and i don’t hang around for a second longer, darting out of his office i crash headfirst into a tall frame.

“wow, slow down,” he chuckles, resting a hand on my shoulder to steady me.

“spencer,” i gasp, looking up at his sympathetic smile, “what are you still doing here? we landed hours ago….”

he shrugs, “i waited for you.”

my heart skips a beat.

“you didn’t have to do that.”

he shakes his head, “you’re my best friend, i wanted to. plus i thought you might need someone after being in there with hotch.”

i swallow and offer him a slightly forced smile.

best friend.

“thanks, spence, that means a lot.”

he looks at me quizzically.

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing, just only jj calls me spence…anyways” he holds out his arm for me, “shall we go?”

i have to restrain myself from seizing his arm, and settle for tentatively wrapping my own around it, “thanks spencer…you’re such a good friend.”

he smiles down at me and its almost enough to melt away the icy feeling in my heart as i call him a friend. the coldness in my chest in my chest is a feeling i’ve grown accustomed to but when i’m with him everything is warm and bright again.

he feels like yellow.

and i feel like maybe i am enough.

and I'm sitting here thinking this is not fair

i feel like blue.

i’m alone in my apartment flicking through tv channels, trying to find something that isn’t a medical or crime drama. because after my day at work i can’t look at any more blood or dead bodies, even if its as fake as the pep in my voice when jj calls to ask if i’m okay.

“hotch grilled you pretty bad, huh? you sure you’re okay?”

“yeah, spence – spencer – waited for me and we went to get milkshakes after.”

“aww that’s so nice, you know i think he has a soft spot for you,” she teases.

something acidic bubbles in my throat, but i can’t tell her that i know she’s wrong because he spent half the night telling me how much he loves her. i have to gather the strength to respond without the venom in my heart poisoning my voice.

“oh, i don’t think so,” i laugh, “anyways, i should go – my movie is about to start.”

jj tells me to have a good night before she hangs up, and i switch off the tv. at this time there’s noting but romcoms and i don’t want to sit through hours of pining when its on replay every day at the office.

i watch my own reflection in the blank tv screen as sobs wrack my body.

but her smile makes it hard to be mad it's not her fault that I'm so fucking sad

jj holds me in her arms as i cry into her chest, “it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay,” she coos, rubbing soft circles on my back.

i sniffle against her and i just know that my eyes are puffy and red but i can’t switch off the floods of tears that fall from them.

“do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” she asks.

i shake my head against her because how could i tell her?

how could I tell her that the man i love is in love with her?

and that i want to resent her for it but i can’t because she’s such a good fucking friend that she’s sitting here with me, unknowingly wiping the tears that i can’t stop shedding because i can’t be her.

she gives me one of those heart warming smiles that could bring peace to a dying man, and in that moment i am reminded again of why he loves her. there are worse people to love, i suppose. if spencer is going to cut out his heart and give it to someone it might as well be someone like her.

but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

and i hate myself for the part of me that hates her. she’s done nothing wrong. it’s not her fault that that spencer loves her, and its not her fault that she doesn’t realise.

so I'll sit here and look at these girls in the sun dancing in the rain and just having their fun

i hate alaska.

my teeth chatter as we trudge through the snow filled field, and i pull the cuffs of my coat over my glove cladded hands. i hate the cold. i hate alaska. i hate the serial killer who dragged us all out here. i hate the impending snowstorm that was keeping the jet grounded for another night.

“should we even be out here?” i groan, “i mean if it’s not safe for the plane, then surely its not safe for us.”

“we aren’t 50,000 feet up in the sky though,” morgan says and i roll my eyes at him.

“it’s cold enough to make me feel like we are,” i huff.

spencer nods sympathetically at me, “i don’t like the cold either, not much snow in vegas.”

“i think we should have two behavioural analysis units,” i begin, “one to catch serial killers in cold climates, and the other in hot ones.”

he laughs, “i’d like that, but i think it’d just be us and garcia on the hot team.”

“we’d get by.”

he’s grinning at me, his messy brown curls are squashed down under his bobble hat but a few of them still manage to peak out. he’s wearing a multicoloured striped scarf and mismatched gloves.

a snowflake lands on his eyelash and i reach out to brush it off.

“thanks.”

“anytime.”

morgan launches a snowball at us, and it hits me in the back of the head, “hey! what is it with you and throwing things?” i snap.

morgan roars with laughter.

“not funny derek!”

he resumes his snowball fight with emily and jj and i draw my arms across my chest. i watch as they prance about in the snow, falling to avoid the snowballs launched by the others and laughing when they get hit. the sun is just starting to set, and it’s rays catch jj’s hair at the perfect angle, bouncing off the golden blonde strands as she dances around morgan. her and emily have joined forces to pelt him with snowballs.

i look up at spencer to see him starting at her in awe. his nose and cheeks are flushed from the cold, and the sun reflects against his own face, illuminating his eyes. they’re beautiful. like honey and glass.

“guys! come join us!” jj calls.

i shake my head, “there’s not enough money in the world.”

she pouts at me, “spence, please,” she says sweetly and before i know it he’s by her side and scooping up snow.

i watch from the side-lines.

spencer roars with laughter when emily hits morgan square in the face with a snowball, he wraps an arm around jj as she nearly collapses from laughter, something twinges in my stomach.

but he looks so happy, and that melts my glacier heart slightly.

maybe alaska wasn’t so bad after all.

and maybe one day, i can forget the past and be one of those girls of honey and glass

“nice to meet you, agent,” agent fitz says, holding out his hand, “we’ve heard good things about you up in the new york office.”

“really?” i say, shaking his hand and i can’t fight the smile that creeps across my face.

“really. give me a call if you ever fancy a change of scenery.”

“i’ll keep that in mind, agent fitz,” i give him a nod and a smile as he walks away.

new york was cold in the winter, but it didn’t seem like the worst place in the world.

but I think that it's hard for people to see that I love all these girls, and honestly it doesn't matter what you look like or how much you weigh

i wondered once how i’d ever get over my love for spencer reid, and now as he sits and sobs on my couch i realise that i don’t want to. it hurts me to love him, and something stabs my heart every time i catch him staring at her, but he deserves someone to love him like he loves her.

“i guess i’m just starting to realise that she’ll never love me back, and i don’t know why or what’s wrong with me,” he says and looks up at me, his eyes filled with tears and his face blotchy and red.

“there’s nothing wrong with you,” i say, wrapping an arm around him and wiping his tears, “sometimes the people you love just don’t love you back, but that’s not a reflection of you or your self-worth,” i reiterate to him the mantra i say in my mirror every morning.

he whimpers and my heart breaks for him.

“it doesn’t feel that way, it feels like i’m dying inside every time she talks about him or tells me about their dates, and i try to be a good friend but-”

his voice cracks and another sob escapes his chest and i tighten my grip around him; heartbreak doesn’t seem to get easier with age, because here we are, two fbi agents in our late twenties crying over our crushes like we are in junior high.

because before i know it the tears are flowing down my face faster than his and when he breaks away from our embrace to ask me why i’m crying, i can’t tell him it’s because i am feeling everything he is.

“i just don’t like seeing you like this,” is all i can muster up.

it's just that these girls know they're okay there's a beauty in knowing your place in the world in loving yourself and knowing your worth

“hey!” spencer greets me as he steps into the elevator with me.

“hi,” i mumble back, taking another sip of coffee from my travel cup.

we’ve been called in on a case, but i’ve barely had any sleep and i’m struggling to keep my eyes open.

“you look tired, are you okay?”

you look tired.

so the bags under my eyes were obvious then.

“yeah,” i say, swallowing the lump in my throat, “just a late night, y’know.”

“oh…oh! is that your way of saying your date went well?” he says with a coy grin.

“what?”

oh! something clicks in my brain and i understand what he means.

“no! not like that no…actually it didn’t go well at all, he turned out to be a total misogynistic creep,” i say with a bitter laugh.

“oh, i’m sorry….”

i shrug and take another swig of coffee, “it’s okay, you didn’t know. to be honest i’ll probably end up calling him again anyways.”

spencer stares at me, confused, “why would you do that?”

“well, i don’t exactly have guys falling over themselves for me, do i?”

spencer frowns and i can see his brain working overtime behind his eyes, “so you’re just going to settle for less than you deserve?”

“i don’t have many other options do i?”

he reaches out an arm to place a comforting hand on my shoulder, “don’t worry, you’ll find the right guy for you soon. it’s only a matter of time, you’re worth more than a misogynistic creep,” he squeezes my shoulder and before i know it we’ve already reached our floor and he’s gone.

you’ll meet the right guy for you soon.

what if i already have?

you don't have to be perfect or never get sad that's not what it means to be honey and glass

it’s late and i sit at my desk, sorting through piles of paperwork.

my eyes blur as i enter the gruesome details of our latest case, from fatigue or tears i can’t tell. i think emily and hotch are still hanging around the office somewhere, but the others had gone to dinner as soon as we landed, promising that they would do their paperwork tomorrow.

i knew i would have no appetite sitting across a table from spencer and jj so i had sat silently in the back of the suv as hotch drove us back to the office.

a singular tear rolls down my cheek and splatters on my page, smudging the not-quite-dry-yet ink. i let out a shaky breath and wipe my eyes, i don’t know why i’m crying really.

no one had necessarily done anything wrong. only when we were in the field and the unsub had detonated the bomb, spencer chose to push jj out of the way instead of me. i was lucky that one of the s.w.a.t agents had grabbed my arm in time and pulled me back to safety.

it had been hours and my ears were still ringing from the explosion.

maybe spencer thought he was closer to jj, that he had a better chance of saving her, we are trained to make difficult choices based on survival odds, i told myself.

only spencer hadn’t been closer to jj, and she was surrounded by three s.w.a.t agents whilst i only had one next to me. but no one had really done anything wrong, no one died, no one even broke a bone. and it pains me to admit to myself but had i been in spencer’s position and had to chose between saving him or morgan, i know that would pull spencer out of the way every single time.

i jump as emily creeps up behind me, “hey, you okay?”

i don’t even try and disguise my puffy, red eyes or tear tracks as i look up at her, “no. but i think that’s okay.”

and everyone has their highs and their lows the nights you spend crying, believe me, I know

it’s roslyn’s birthday.

i don’t think anyone else in the team knows because they keep exchanging looks whenever jj snaps at one of them and i can see the annoyance in their eyes.

when jj barks at spencer and snaps her pencil within the space of five minutes i drag her into a storage closet and wrap my arms around her.

“shhh,” i say soothingly, “it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.”

jj shakes her head, “i don’t think so, i thought this day would get easier with time but it’s just getting worse,” she sniffles.

i stroke her hair, “i know, i know its horrible and you deserve to cry as much as you want to. but you are so strong, and i know you can get through this-”

“i’m not,” jj shakes her head, “i’m not strong or brave or anything that you all think i am, i’m not like you I-”

“like me?” i question.

“you always hold yourself together, whenever there’s a case with a kid i’m falling to pieces but you keep it together. i mean i’m the one crying in a storage closet….”

i stare at her in disbelief, because jj is the strongest woman i know and i don’t understand how she can’t see that.

“i don’t have a sister who killed herself jj,” i say slowly, “you have survived 100% of the bad things that have happened to you because you’re a fighter, that makes you strong.”

she shakes her head and clings to me, “but i’ve lost pieces of myself, i’m not the same person i could’ve been if life had been kinder to me and that makes me sad. my sister is dead and that makes me sad, everyone thinks i’m this strong and perfect person and that makes me feel guilty because i can’t be that person.”

in a turn of events, she is crying into my chest, her hair is greasy, and her mascara runs and i realise that my best friend was never truly on the pedestal i placed her on. and i realise i am part of the problem, treating jj like she is the be all and all of perfection and unattainablity when i should just be treating her like a friend.

spencer loves her and that kills me but it’s not what’s important right now. i’ve spent too long inside my own head, struggling to view her as my best friend or the other woman but now i see that she is someone that needs my help.

i know what it’s like to cry myself to sleep so i don’t want jj to go through something like that alone. so i vow there and then, to push my own feelings aside and be whatever she needs me to be.

i don't want to be these girls for beauty or fame but for the confidence they have in their own damn name

“smile!” garcia says as she appears with a camera.

emily, jj, and morgan turn to face her and pose but i duck out of the frame. garcia pouts and morgan grabs onto my forearm to pull me back into shot. i wish that i had the self-confidence to let him, to fall in next to him and make a silly pose at the camera and not worry if my hair was sitting nicely or if i was breathing in enough.

“come on! i need pictures for my scrapbook and you’ve been dodging me all night!” she whines.

i stare down at my feet, “garcia i’m not photoshoot ready like these guys,” i say, trying to make my voice light and floaty but it just sounds like im choking back tears.

“come on, just one picture,” jj says kindly, waving for me to come and stand next to her.

i shake my head again and wring my hands. the last thing i need is another photograph of jj and i to compare myself to every time i’m feeling extra low and self-destructive.

i try and remember the vow i made, to be there for my friend despite my own feelings. but she isn’t sad anymore, she’s happy and smiling and drinking wine, me squeezing in between her and emily for a stupid photograph isn’t going to make or break her.

it’s just a stupid photograph.

“no thanks,” i choke, “i’m going to get another drink,” i scurry away to the kitchen before anyone can object.

i shut the door quickly behind me and press my back up against it, taking a deep breath. i can’t quite believe i was successful in escaping garcia again.

“are you avoid garcia and her camera too?”

“spencer!” i laugh shrilly, “i didn’t even see you there.”

“yeah, i’ve been hiding in here for a half hour,” he smiles sadly, “i hate having my picture taken, especially next to morgan. he makes me look even lankier if possible.”

i frown, spencer had no reason to feel insecure.

“why don’t we get garcia to take a picture of just us two?” i suggest nervously, “you won’t have any reason to feel insecure next to me….”

he looks at me quizzically, “what do you mean?”

i wring my hands again, “just that you’ll automatically look even better if i’m next to you…cos’ i’m…well y’know,” i say awkwardly motioning to my face and body.

he cocks his head to the side, “are you trying to tell me you think you’re ugly, so i’ll look better by comparison?”

i shrug.

“well, i think you look beautiful.”

so I'll sit here and look at these girls in the sun dancing in the rain and just having their fun

we’re on the plane journey home.

spencer and jj sit next to each other, their arms pressed together as they share the arm rest. spencer is reading a book; his eyes scan down the pages at lightening speed and i know he’ll be finished soon.

i am on the opposite side of the plane, i sit by myself, i like the space.

i keep my eye on them throughout the flight; just as i predicted, it doesn’t take long for spencer to finish his book and he places it down on the table in front of him. jj picks it up and teases him for the long-winded title, i don’t catch what she says, something about astrophysics.

he starts to ramble, and she interrupts him with another teasing remark, he flushes when she gently nudges his chest. i turn my head to stare out of the window, biting my lip.

they aren’t even doing anything, jj is just being friendly. and i still can’t handle it. i lie my head back against the headrest as i gaze out of the window, admiring the new york skyline as it fades into the distance.

a nervous chuckle from spencer snaps me out of my trance, and i look back over to see him and jj giggling secretively as she whispers something into his ear.

“where are you going?” emily grumbles, she’s half asleep with her legs splayed out across two chairs when i accidently bump her foot.

“bathroom,” i say quietly with a forced smile as i shuffle past jj and spencer, my heart seizing in my chest as she teases him about how long his hair is getting, brushing her hand through the curls.

i’m already silently sobbing in the bathroom so i miss the pitiful look that emily and morgan exchange.

and I know it doesn't make sense to forget the past but I promise, one day, you'll be honey and glass

“agent fitz?” i say, clutching my phone tight in my hand.

“ahh, i’ve been wondering when i’d be hearing from you.”

i laugh quietly, “yes, well i’ve been thinking about what you said, and i think i could do with that change of scenery now.”

i wrote this in a couple hours and didnt proof read so apologies for an errors :))

part 2

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #jennifer jareau #jj #emily prentiss #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #David Rossi #Penelope garcia #the bau #angst #hurt and comfort #spencer reid imagine hurt

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fromthedeskoftheraven · 4 years

Text

Always kiss me goodnight

Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader

Content: Pining, kissing, mention of food, oh no there’s only one bed, helmetless Din (but it’s dark), baby Yoda is an adorable tiny terror

Word count: ~2200

Note: I swear I was only going to write one Pedro character fic. Has this kind of thing been done a million times? Yes. Am I doing it once more? Also yes. It’s self-indulgent hours and this little love letter to our favorite space dad and his green baby has been nagging at my mind since I first watched the show.

Tagging the people who asked (If anyone wants to be tagged or un-tagged in any future fics since it seems I’m well and truly back on my bs just say the word): @songsformonkeys @yespolkadotkitty @emesispo @beccaplaying

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Fatigue has caught up with the little green child now that his belly is full, and crankiness along with it. The Mandalorian has been known to lovingly call his adopted son a womp rat, but when the baby gets overtired, a rancor is more like it.

This time, you can hardly blame him. The three of you have spent the better part of the day traveling, finally landing on this backwater planet late in the evening. With some searching and a small fortune in credits, Din managed to find a safe, out-of-the-way place to stay, leaving you and the child to eat and settle in while he went to scout the bounty’s location for the next day’s work.

As the child’s fussing gains momentum, you hustle to the small sink in the corner of the room.

“We’ll wash your face and go straight to bed,” you promise him, letting the water warm before wetting a cloth and wringing it out thoroughly.

In the mirror, your own face looks as exhausted as he obviously feels. The bed in question is little more than a pallet with a mattress and some blankets, but it might as well be a royal welcome at this stage of the game.

Despite your gentleness, the baby erupts in an indignant whine as you wipe the cloth over his face and ears. “I know, little love,” you soothe while he struggles in protest. “Almost done.”

He quiets when you scoop him up into your arms, pressing a kiss to his fuzzy head. You hum bits of a song from your childhood, rocking him from side to side, and his little face crumples with a yawn. His tiny fingers curl into the fabric of your tunic and his head goes heavy on your shoulder, but still he fidgets, making pathetic little sounds in the direction of the door.

“I know,” you murmur again, still swaying on the spot. “He’ll be back soon.”

You’ve grown to love the child and you know he’s fond of you, but as far as he’s concerned Din is the one who hangs the stars in the sky. He’s always a little agitated when his father is out of sight, and truth be told, so are you.

“I know what we can do,” you say. “Let’s make a plate for your buir for when he comes back. Don’t you think that’ll be nice for him?”

Neither you nor Din are sure how much the child actually understands, but you don’t let it stop you talking to him. If nothing else it makes you feel a little less alone in the long hours when Din is hunting his quarries.

His drooping ears twitch upward with this suggestion. He watches with interest as you lay a plate with some of the fresh fruit, bread, and stewed meat Din bought from the innkeeper for your supper.

“There we go. Now then, bedtime for little ones.”

You turn to survey the sleeping area with a stab of nerves. The minuscule size of the room isn’t a challenge -- the Razor Crest has made you an expert in living in small spaces -- but the lone bed is a wrinkle you hadn’t expected.

Din, ever pragmatic, had been quick to point out that it was plenty big enough for the three of you, and it was only one night. He was right, of course.

Still, you’d never been so grateful for dim lighting, sure that your secret longing for the Mandalorian was written plainly on your flustered face.

You couldn’t have said exactly when your feelings for Din Djarin had strayed into dangerous territory. Somewhere in the months of traveling with him, caring for his child, helping maintain his ship, reminding him to eat, and tending the worst of his wounds your initial wariness turned to admiration, admiration to fondness, and fondness to something alarmingly like love.

It’s a fool’s errand.

For all his kindness to you Din is an island of a man, set apart from the world in his shell of beskar and the even more unyielding armor of his creed. Even if his heart is big enough to encompass the child, you don’t dare to hope there’s room for you too.

And now this bed -- this one kriffing bed -- sits there mocking you and all your silly fantasies of you and Din and the child being a real family, bound together by love instead of convenience.

You turn off the light overhead, leaving only the small, sickly lamp at the table to light Din’s way to his supper.

The mattress is clean and the blankets are a bit threadbare but soft, and the baby only has the energy to grumble a little when you lay him down on the side closest to the wall and tuck the thickest of them around him. Yawning widely, he stretches out a hand toward you, fingers grabbing at the air.

The gesture warms your weary heart.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

You lie down beside him and face away from the table, mindful that Din will need privacy to eat. The little body shuffles closer to you, curling into your shoulder, and a surge of fierce affection pricks your eyes with tears. You wrap your arm around the baby to hold him close as the full brunt of the long day overtakes you.

“Good night, little love,” you say around a yawn, just as your eyes fall closed.

***

You wake with a start. The windowless room is pitch black, and in the absence of any landmarks your brain races to orient itself.

At your back, the child’s soft, snuffling breaths. A well-worn blanket draped over you and a slightly lumpy mattress beneath.

The inn, you remember in a flash.

At your front...something warm and broad and solid. You’ve nestled into it in your sleep, one arm thrown over it, your hand grasping soft fabric. A familiar, comforting scent surrounds you, a scent you cherish from laundry days and the cramped quarters of a small ship.

Oh, Maker.

You clearly slept through Din coming back and getting into bed, and now you’re wrapped around him like a second set of clothes. The rush of blood into your cheeks flames so hot you worry he must feel it through the base layers he’s wearing to sleep.

Shrinking into yourself, you begin to pull away, as stealthily as you can. If you can just get back to your own side of the bed and brazen it out in the morning, maybe he’ll never be the wiser.

Slowly, so slowly, you release the handful of his shirt you’re holding and move your arm from where it’s resting across his chest...

In the darkness, a hand encircles your wrist.

Oh, Maker.

You’ve watched Din wrestle enough uncooperative bounties into the carbonite chamber to know you’re not getting away from him if he doesn’t want you to. But his grip on your wrist is light, gentle. His thumb rests on the place where your pulse is fluttering like a trapped bird, whether from embarrassment or his closeness you’re not entirely sure.

“Din.” It comes out barely a whisper, sabotaged by the sudden dryness of your mouth. You swallow hard and try again. “Din, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

“It’s all right.”

His voice is a revelation. Free of the modulator’s rasp, it’s warmer, richer, somehow softer and more resonant at the same time. You’ve never even been in the same room with him when he has his helmet off, and the realization that he’s right there, a breath away, is dizzying.

Silence stretches before he speaks again, more quietly. “It’s...nice.”

Your brain fails you entirely. “Oh.”

You search desperately for something more intelligent to say, but his thumb is drawing feather-light circles over the soft skin of your wrist and your pulse is thundering in your ears. Those touches, so delicate from a man so strong, blur your thoughts like liquor and drag a confession from your lips before you can bite it back. “I’ve always wanted to hold you.”

You wait, blessing the darkness that swallows your shame, and hope he’s not going to tell you to pack your things and find a job in this bleak little skug hole for when he leaves you behind.

Instead, you feel the mattress shift and know he’s turned toward you.

The sudden fear of breaking Din’s creed is overwhelming, even in the dark. Instinct has you squeezing your eyes shut so tightly that white specks float behind your eyelids.

“I can’t see you,” you say quickly. “I promise.”

“I know.”

His thumb moves from your wrist across your palm, uncurling your fingers to map each one in turn, trailing up to the tips and back down again. You wonder how long it’s been since he’s touched anyone’s bare skin.

He sighs, which is nothing new, but this one doesn’t sound exasperated. It sounds almost...content. “Mesh’la,” he murmurs. “Beautiful girl. I thought so the first time I saw you.”

You’re overcome with a wild, childish urge to pinch yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming.

His praise gives you a rush of courage to ask for something you’ve only dreamed of. “Din...can I touch you? Is it allowed?”

His only answer is to cradle your hand in his, bringing it to rest on his cheek.

Stubble prickles your palm as your fingers slowly trace his scruffy jawline and the thick column of his neck, savoring the feel of him. His hair is soft, long enough to curl at its nape, and when you comb your fingers through the tousled strands he makes a low, strangled sound in the back of his throat. It reverberates through your body like a bell, making your head swim with the thrill of affecting him.

You only just resist the urge to suck a mark into the spot where his pulse races under his warm skin.

Your greedy hands move on to discover a strong brow and the curved bridge of a prominent nose. A mustache frames lips that are more plush than you imagined, a note of sensuality in an angular, warrior’s face.

“Can you tell me what color your eyes are?” you ask, fingertips traveling over his cheekbone.

“Brown.”

Brown. You see them in your mind’s eye, soft and dark, expressing all the things he doesn’t say out loud. Stroking his lower lip, you repeat his own word back to him: “Mesh’la.”

Din’s mouth twitches under your fingers. “You can’t see me.”

He has no idea. His body warming yours and the sweetness of his voice calling you beautiful is everything you’ve ever wanted and thought yourself unworthy of having, and he thinks you’re only talking about his face.

You cup his cheek, smile at him, even though he can’t see it. “I don’t need to, Din. I just know it. I always have.”

“You’re so good to me.” His hand catches yours in his large one, his voice rough with some nameless emotion. “To me, and the baby. All the time.”

“You deserve everything good,” you whisper past the lump in your throat.

He’s caressing your hand again, holding it in place to press his lips to the pad of your thumb. “I want to kiss you, cyare.”

Your exhale is somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Please.”

His hand moves to cradle your head as he closes the distance between you. If you were expecting him to pounce, you’re completely unprepared for him to linger, breath hovering over your lips for a long, agonizing moment as he brushes his nose over yours.

You’re almost startled by the first touch of his lips, a little chapped but warm and lush. His mustache is softer than you thought it would be, and so are his kisses, a series of slow, gentle presses of his mouth. Like he wants to do with his lips what you’ve done with your hands, sketching and learning.

It’s only when you slide your hand into his hair again that something inside him breaks. His arm snakes around your waist, holding you to the refuge of his broad chest as he slants his mouth over yours, claiming you in earnest. He’s possessive and tender in equal measure and the tease of his tongue against yours, his teeth nipping your lower lip, the span of his hand on your back has you drunk on him and whispering his name between kisses like a prayer.

...Apparently not quietly enough.

A little hand scrabbling at your shoulder blade brings you out of your haze. As you pull away from Din the baby is climbing over you as quickly as his short limbs will let him. He wedges himself between the two of you with a delighted coo at Din, hands flailing to find his father’s face.

Din heaves a sigh, but there’s no malice in it. “I’m here, ad’ika,” he says, with unmistakable fondness. “We’re all here.”

You can’t stifle a breathless laugh as the baby snuggles into Din’s arms, making himself comfortable for the night.

Your Mandalorian surrenders good-naturedly, wrapping an arm around you with the child tucked safely in the middle. He presses a kiss to your forehead before settling on the pillow beside you. “Sleep, cyare.”

Drowsiness is already fuzzing the edges of your mind again, but it catches on the word he’s said twice now. “What does that mean?” you murmur. “Cyare?”

You feel him smile against your temple, one last brush of his lips. “Share my bunk tomorrow night, and I’ll tell you.”

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #pedro pascal #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian x female reader

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fortheloveofwonderland · 3 years

Text

Ask the Stars [Spencer Reid x fem! Reader]

Find my masterlist here. Requests are Open.

Requested: Yes l No

A/N: I’ve had this idea floating around for a while and finally decided to write it and it flowed liked nobodies business! I LOVED writing this so I hope you enjoy reading it. Special thanks to the angel @dreatine who gave me the title for this fic and showing me the beautiful song the title is from (lyrics for which can be found throughout). Set pre-BAU.

CW: swearing, drinking, mutual pining, friends to lovers, age gap between consenting adults, virgin! Spencer, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, groping. I think that’s everything!

Plot: growing up together, best friends Spencer and the reader have always been secretly in love with one another. But a night together under the stars might be too little too late and with Spencer moving to DC and you to Idaho, that one night may be all you ever get.

WC: 12.2K

—————————————————————

Ask the stars up in the sky,

Ask the stars they’ll tell you why.

Stars know ev’ry little thing you do,

There’s a little star that’s watching you.

Ask the stars when you’re with me,

Ask the stars then watch and see.

Las Vegas, Nevada - 2003

Spencer didn’t think he would have made it through the last ten years of his life and been where he was now if it hadn't been for the family next door.

He was just twelve years old when they’d moved in, struggling to cope with high school bullies and his mom's schizophrenia all on his own.

They would help out with his mom in any way they could, they had him round for dinner when it was too tough for him to go home and they took him along on their annual camping trips every year.

They had been there for him when he’d had to have his mom committed when he was eighteen. They were kind, friendly people. They treated Spencer like their own son.

He liked to pretend when he was with them that they were his family. He liked to play pretend, that he had a loving father and a mom who wasn’t sick.

He lived in a fantasy world whenever he was with them.

But Spencer’s favourite part about the family next door by far, was their daughter, Y/N.

You were four years Spencer’s junior, just an adorable eight year old when you’d moved in next door to the young genius and his mother. The two of you had grown up together and somewhere along the way attraction and feelings developed.

Of course neither one of you had ever said as much. You were best friends, you didn’t want to risk destroying that by confessing your feelings for him.

And besides, at the end of the summer the two of you were going your separate ways; you were off to college in Idaho and Spencer was moving to DC for his illustrious new job at the FBI.

This was the last chance the two of you had to spend time together before everything inevitably changed. So maybe going on a camping trip with your parents at eighteen was a little lame. But there was one reason and one reason alone you were going on the trip.

Spencer Reid.

***

Just as you were lugging the last of your bags out of the front door, you heard the front gate creak open.

Your eyes shot up and landed instantly on his as he slipped through the gate.

You immediately dropped the bag on the floor and were dashing down the front steps and down the path.

“Spence!” You squealed, running at him at speed.

He caught you in his arms and the two of you almost went tumbling back to the concrete but he managed to steady you both.

“Whoa Y/N,” he laughed, wrapping you tightly in his arms. “I missed you too.”

You clung to your best friend, breathing in his scent. He’d only been gone two months finishing up his third PhD, but it felt like forever.

The last few years Spencer’s studies had taken him away from Vegas much more than you would have both liked. He’d missed the last two family camping trips and they had been so dull without him.

You were so happy to have him back for one last trip.

“It’s so good to see you.” You smiled, pulling back from the hug to get a proper look at him. Of course over the years you’d memorised every sculpted curve of his face, those sharp cheekbones, deep set eyes and sinfully plump lips but you would never tire of looking at him.

“Y/N, Spencer, it’s time to go!” Your mom hollered from the street, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Give me a hand with my bag?”

“Of course.” He smiled, following up the path to the house.

You felt lighter when Spencer was around, like all of your worries and fears just melted away.

You had no idea how you would cope with him in DC while you were in Idaho. But that was a problem for another day.

For now you were just revelling in Spencer’s presence.

***

Admittedly camping with your parents was never a terrible experience. Your dad was the outdoorsy type, your mom was not. So they compromised.

Yes you were in the woods but your mom would not allow sleeping in rustic tents. Every year she booked up the most glamorous of tents for your stays. Wood flooring, real beds, even nightstands and lamps.

So technically you were sleeping in a tent, but it was just as comfortable, if not more so than your bedroom at home. The site was equipped with showers and real toilets. It wasn’t really like camping at all.

“Oh Spencer sweetie,” your mom called to him as you were unpacking the car several hours of driving later.

“Yes?” He looked up at her with a smile.

“Did Y/N tell you, we weren’t able to book three pods this year, I must have called late. I hope it’s ok for the two of you to share?”

Wow. Your mom was a better liar than you pegged her to be.

Even your dad seemed to fall for it.

When she’d told you a few days ago, you’d seen right through it.

You knew your mom had known for a long time of your crush on your genius neighbour. She’d probably known before even you did.

So you didn’t question it when she’d told you she’d only been able to book two camping pods, but you were sure your blush gave away exactly what you thought about it.

“Uhm yeah I guess that’s fine.” He shrugged and was that a blush you saw spreading to his cheeks? “I’ve got my sleeping bag, I can just sleep on the floor.”

Not if I have anything to do with it, you thought but his response seemed to appease your father.

Once Spencer went back to emptying the bags from the car your mom gave you a look and a small smirk.

You tried not to blush. Your mom had always been pretty cool for a mom and you had never been more grateful for that until right now.

You finished unpacking the car and took your stuff to your allocated tent to change before heading down to the lake.

Spencer took some clothes to the toilets to change and you spent longer than was necessary picking out the perfect bathing suit.

The last time Spencer had seen you in a bathing suit was two years ago and boy had your body changed in two years. You couldn’t wait to show it off to him.

You just hoped he liked what he saw.

***

Thankfully Spencer had already dived into the water before you took off your summer dress and unsheathed the glorious body you were hiding underneath the fabric.

The water made for a great way to hide the erection that almost immediately grew when he saw you in that bathing suit.

He tried not to look at you, mostly because your parents were there and he was sure they wouldn’t be happy with him gawking over their daughter.

But he was in essence, a cold blooded male. He’d had a crush on you for about as long as he could remember, you’d grown up together, surely it was only inevitable?

But you were his best friend. You were the only real friend he’d ever had. And he didn’t want to ruin that by sexualising you. But god that would be so much easier to do if you weren’t so damn hot.

When had you stopped being the adorable girl next door who used to play with her pony toys in the front yard? When did you become this drop dead gorgeous woman standing before him in a scantily clad bathing suit?

You had changed since the last time he’d seen you in so little clothes. You’d developed curves in what Spencer thought was all the right places.

You looked up and your eyes met his and you gave him a bright smile that made him feel a little weak. You walked to the edge of the lake and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you.

You walked with poise, a sense of a confidence Spencer could never muster. He watched as you dove into the water so gracefully, and re-emerge a few feet in front of him.

You pushed your wet hair off your face and waded closer to him, wiping the water from your eyes.

Spencer felt a lump forming in his throat the closer you got. His eyes betrayed him and they fell to your chest, the water droplets rolling over your skin shimmered in the sun.

How I want to lick those beads of water off your skin.

“You ok?” You laughed, coming to a stop in front of him.

“M-me? Y-yes why wouldn’t I b-be.” He stuttered at the close proximity he now found himself in to you. He could reach out and touch you. He could reach out and kiss you.

He did neither.

“Come here,” he raised your hands out of the water. “Your hair is going to get in your eyes.”

You gently stroked a strand of Spencer’s wet hair out of his face and it sent a shiver racing up his spine.

His cock was aching. He’d never been touched by a woman in such a way. He’d never been touched by a woman in any way and honestly it felt like he could blow his load just from you stroking back his hair.

“Much better.” You smiled at him, leaving him feeling a little downtrodden when you withdrew your hand.

“Uh thanks.” He croaked, feeling light headed.

“You’re welcome.”

For a moment the two of you stared at each other, eyes locked as though communicating subconsciously.

Spencer wanted to grab hold of you and kiss you like there was no tomorrow. He wanted to pull you close and feel your body pressed up against his own, run his fingers over your every curve.

He wanted his hands to get lost in your hair. He wanted to bury himself between your thighs. He wanted to feel you, to taste you.

Honestly you were thinking the same, he just didn’t know it. His white t-shirt cling to his skin now soaked in water and you could just make out the soft skin of his chest underneath. You wanted to run your hands over that skin, through his hair, over every part of his body.

You wanted to feel him inside of you, his fingers, his cock, anything. You wanted to stare deep into his eyes while he made you come.

All of a sudden Spencer snapped out of his trance before he did something to make a fool of himself.

“I’ll race you to the next dock!” He dove beneath the surface before you had time to register his words.

You watched him go, splashing a lot as he swam, gangly limbs flailing.

It took you a few seconds to pick your mind up out of the gutter and start swimming after him.

Being the much more adept swimmer, despite Spencer’s head start you managed to beat him to the next dock.

He was much more out of breath than you when he arrived.

“How did you get into the FBI again?” You laughed as he gripped hold of the dock for dear life.

“They ultimately had to make exceptions to allow me into the field.” He panted.

“Clearly.” You teased. “Ohh and look, we’re right by the jet ski hire!” You pulled yourself up on the dock and sat on the edge looking down at Spencer.

“You know I hate those things. Did you know there are around seven hundred jet ski related accidents every year which results in approximately forty deaths? I don’t like those odds, I’ll wait on the dock.”

He tried and failed to get out of the water and in the end you had to help hoist him up.

“No way, you're coming with me.” You stood up and pulled him to his feet as well.

“I most certainly am not.” He made the mistake of looking into your eyes. Those beautiful expressive eyes that could probably make him commit murder.

“Please?” You asked softly and he was like putty in your hands.

“F-fine.” He grumbled.

“Yay!” You squealed a little, throwing yourself into his arms.

Your body pressed up against his and he tentatively wrapped his arms around you.

Your wet bathing suit and his wet t-shirt clung to each other and he could feel your every curve.

Thankfully you pulled away before he got too excited. You took hold of his hand now and started leading him towards the hire booth.

Honestly he’d let you lead him anywhere.

***

Spencer was still shaking almost ten minutes after pulling up in the small alcove a way up the lake and dismounting the jet ski.

He’d enjoyed the close proximity with you it had involved but it didn’t make up for the sheer terror of your haphazard driving.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” You laughed staring down at him as he laid on the grass.

“All I’ll say is, if you drove a car like that I would never let you drive me anywhere.”

“It’s a jet ski Einstein, they are supposed to go fast.” You nudged his ribs with your toe. “Get up, we need to head back.”

“I would literally rather swim back.” He groaned.

You rolled your eyes, nudging his ribs again.

“It’s probably almost a mile back, don’t be so dramatic.” You leant over him and took hold of his hands, pulling him into a sitting position. “How about you drive? That way we can go at a granny pace.”

“Funny.” He grumbled, getting to his feet. “But I will drive actually. I’d rather not die of a heart attack on this lake.”

You slid the rubber band over your hand that the key dangled from and tossed it at Spencer.

He flapped about trying to catch it and just managed to stop it falling to the floor.

You got in your positions on the jet ski. You wrapped yourself tighter around him than was necessary, your arms snaking around his waist and resting on his stomach.

Spencer shuddered but he hoped you would think it was due to the wind.

It could have been the wind but the timing seemed a little too convenient. Did your touch really have that effect on him? He’d never given you any indication that he liked you in that way, but could it be possible? Maybe you would have to test that out.

Spencer took a tentative breath and started the jet ski’s engine. You tightened your hold on him as it started moving.

Spencer was slow to start with just like you had assumed he would be. It was quite nice actually. You had a chance to revel in the way the water felt as it splashed onto your bare legs, the way the wind felt in your hair.

But mostly you were wrapped up in the way it felt to be this close to Spencer.

You pressed your chest into your back, making sure he could feel your breasts on him. You started by gently moving your fingers over the fabric of his t-shirt, round in little circles on his stomach.

As he picked up the speed a little you dared to let your fingers drop a little lower, over his hip bones. You felt him tense a little but due to the sound of the jet ski you didn’t hear the way his breath hitched at your touch.

You moved your hands again, your fingers gently grazing the waistband of his swim shorts.

Spencer practically jumped at your touch so near his crotch and he inadvertently swerved sharply, so sharply that it sent the two of you flying off the seat and crashing into the water.

The engine cut off when the key attached around Spencer’s wrist was yanked out with him.

You both broke the surface, spluttering a little.

“What the hell Spencer?” you pushed your hair back off your face. “Why did you do that?”

Because you have no idea how long I have wanted you to touch me like that.

“You uh...your...I don’t know. I just lost control I guess.” he didn’t want to tell you that your touch had sent him into a tailspin and he had completely lost his focus.

But you had a pretty good idea that was what had happened. And if that was the case, why? Why had your touch affected him in that way? Surely he did not feel for you the way you felt about him?

It couldn’t be possible. But it surely did seem that way.

“I’ll drive the rest of the way.” you told him, rather than pushing him. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

But you might have to test this more, maybe on stable ground.

You both climbed back up onto the jet ski, Spencer slightly less gracefully than you, and he handed you over the key.

You made it back to the jet ski hire with no further incident and Spencer was happy to be back on dry land. Although he did miss the closeness the jet ski brought.

“I need to use the bathroom, I’ll be right back ok?” Spencer told you while you returned your life vests.

“Sure, I’ll be here.” you gave him a soft smile.

He couldn’t help but give your body a once over again, it was accidental, he couldn’t stop himself. The feeling of your fingers on his waistband and your chest pressed up against his back were imprinted in his mind and by the time he reached the bathroom he was hard again.

Making sure there was no one else in the bathroom he shut himself in one of the cubicles. He leant against the closed door and exhaled a shaky breath.

It wouldn’t be the first time he had touched himself while thinking of you but this seemed dirty. This wasn’t the comfort of his own bedroom where no one would catch him.

But he knew he needed to take care of this otherwise it would plague him all day.

With another shaky breath he relieved himself from his swim shorts. He closed his eyes, taking his length in his hand and started stroking himself. He bit his lip hard to stem his moans as he pictured you in that sinful bathing suit.

He imagined your fingers moving from his waistband inside his pants and tried to imagine it was your fingers wrapped around him.

He was panting and mumbling your name in no time and it didn’t take long at all for him to come.

He cleaned himself up as well as the tiled floor he had dirtied before using the facilities and heading back outside.

God he hoped you wouldn’t see his deed written all over his face, he would be mortified.

But by the looks of it, you were too busy to notice anything.

The guy putting the moves on you was shorter than Spencer but much more broad and muscular. He had sun kissed skin and beach blonde hair. He had a charming smile and it was clearly working its magic on you.

Spencer approached slowly, you didn’t seem to notice. As he reached your side the man looked over at him with a frown.

“Can we help you?” he asked Spencer.

“Spence, hi.” you smiled at him before turning all your attention back on the other man. “Greg, this is my best friend Spencer. Spencer, this is Greg.”

Best friend, of course, because that’s how you saw him. Friends. Only ever friends.

You hadn’t had any intention of talking to someone while Spencer was gone but when Greg had approached you, you engaged in friendly conversation.

He was attractive, sure, but in your eyes he had nothing on Spencer.

But there was something in Spencer’s eyes that looked a lot like jealousy. Maybe you could use Greg to your advantage?

“Greg invited us to a party at the lake tonight.” you spoke when neither man said anything.

“I actually invited you to a party.” Greg corrected you.

“Oh.” Spencer squeaked a little.

“I’m only coming if Spencer does.” You told Greg with a seductive smile.

Greg smiled at you and stepped a little closer.

“How can I say no to a face like yours.” He ran his finger over your cheek and Spencer wanted to smack him. “I’ll see you tonight babe.” He winked at you before sauntering away.

“He seems like a complete jackass.” Spencer grumbled once Greg was out of ear shot.

“You didn’t even speak to him.” You frowned at your friend.

“Neither did you, not really. I was only gone five minutes. I don’t think we should go to that party.”

“And why not?” You folded your arms over your chest.

“Because we don’t know him. He could be some creep for all we know.”

“I don’t think that’s what’s bothering you.” You stepped closer to Spencer making him swallow. “Are you jealous Spencer?”

“W-what?” He croaked. “Jealous? W-why would I be j-jealous?”

It was written all over his face. He was jealous.

“I don’t know Spence, you tell me.” You stepped even closer to him now, so close he could feel your breath on his face.

You let your hands drop to your side.

“Do you want me for yourself Spencer? Because you know all you’d have to do is ask.”

Good god, what are you doing to me?

Of course he wanted you all to himself, it’s all he’d ever wanted. But that didn’t change the fact you were his best friend and you were moving to different states.

Telling you he wanted you was completely pointless.

“Of course not.” He tried to scoff, forcing himself to step back away from you. “If you want Greg that’s fine by me.”

“Fine.” You spat.

“Fine.” Spencer mirrored.

And with that you turned on your heels and stormed away.

Maybe you’d been wrong after all. Of course Spencer didn’t like you. What a stupid thought that had been.

***

That night your dad allowed you and a very reluctant Spencer to use his car to head back to the lake and meet Greg and his friends.

You and Spencer hadn’t said much of anything to each other since that afternoon but if your parents had noticed they didn’t say anything.

You felt foolish for thinking he could have possibly been jealous. Of course there was no way the brilliant Spencer Reid looked at you that way. There was no way he would deem you smart enough or interesting enough.

It had clearly all been in your head. Or so you thought.

But of course it hadn’t.

Spencer had wanted to scream at you that of course he was jealous and of course he wanted you all to himself, but he didn’t want to make a fool of himself. There was no way he was confessing his feelings for you. He’d done a good job of keeping them hidden up until now and he certainly wasn’t going to let Greg be the reason he told you.

He would take his feelings for you to the grave. It was easier that way. It was easier than ruining your friendship.

You drove to the lake in stifled silence. Normally small talk wasn’t an issue for the two of you, you could talk about anything and everything for hours on end. But for the first time, neither of you had anything to say to one another.

Thankfully it wasn’t a long drive to the lake and you pulled up soon enough and exited the car as soon as you shut off the engine.

Spencer sighed loudly once alone in the car. This was the last time the two of you would be together in god knows how long and you were in a fight already on the first day of the trip.

He didn’t think the two of you had ever fought, not properly anyway. Was this a fight? Spencer wasn’t even sure. He hoped not. He spent a few minutes alone in the car just collecting himself.

He got out of the car and followed in your footsteps. You were already down by a bonfire near the lake edge with none other than Greg. Greg had his arm around your shoulders as he handed you a bottle of beer which you took with a smile.

Spencer took a deep breath before heading towards you. He really didn’t want to be a third wheel with the two of you but he also didn’t have the kind of confidence it took to go and talk to new people.

Third wheel it is.

“Hi,” you barely acknowledged him as he joined you and Greg and if Spencer wasn’t mistaken you moved your body closer to Greg.

He gave you a half-smile and nodded in Greg’s direction.

“Can I get you a beer?” Greg asked him.

“No thanks. One of us is going to have to drive back and looks like that’s going to be me.” Spencer shrugged, trying not to sound annoyed but he clearly did because he saw you roll your eyes.

“Want to take a walk Greg?” you smiled at the other man who gave your shoulders a squeeze as he eyed you up and down.

“I would love that.” he chuckled and before Spencer knew it he was leading you away from him.

It had been all of two minutes and you had already abandoned him. Great.

He turned away from the lake and started back up towards the car assuming he would just wait for you there while you were off doing god knows what with Greg.

He made his way towards the car but didn’t get very far before someone ran into him, knocking him to the floor.

“Ow.” he groaned as he hit the ground, someone landing roughly on top of him.

“Oh my gosh, I am so, so sorry!” she pushed herself off of him, standing up before holding out a hand to help him.

Spencer took it and allowed the stranger to pull him to his feet.

“I was chasing after a frisbee and I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you ok?” she was smiling sweetly at him and Spencer couldn’t help but think it was a very pretty smile.

Maybe not as pretty as yours but pretty in its own right.

“It’s ok.” he told her, shaking it off. “These things happen. I’m uh...I’m Spencer.”

She smiled again and nodded.

“Rose.” she replied. “Would you care to join me for a drink Spencer?”

“You know what?” Spencer smiled. “I don’t mind if I do.”

***

You and Greg had walked further up the lake and found a spot near the water's edge to sit. It didn’t take long before his lips were on yours and his fingers were in your hair.

It was...nice. It was nothing special but it was ok. And you couldn’t help but wish it was Spencer’s lips pressed against your own.

When Greg’s hands moved from your hair down to your breasts, palming them through your top a little roughly, you pushed him back.

“Nuh uh.” you shook your head frowning at him. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh come on babe, we’re just having a little fun.”

“We can have fun without you groping me.” you picked up your beer bottle and swigged from it.

“I didn’t peg you as a prude Y/N.” he raised an eyebrow at you.

“Because I’m not. I prefer the term selective.” you scoffed.

He didn’t take your reluctance as a no however and he moved in again, his lips latching on to your neck and his hand finding your thigh.

He moved his hand higher up your bare leg, over your denim shorts and soon his fingers were toying with the button.

Once again you pushed him, harder than before.

“Hey asshole.” you spat. “I said no.”

He rolled his eyes, picking up his own beer, downing the contents and then tossing it away.

“You’re a drag.” he groaned. “Is this because of that pipe cleaner friend of yours?”

“No.” you pushed yourself up from the ground, grabbing your beer. “This has nothing to do with Spencer. I just don’t like pushy men who think they’re god's gift to women.”

You turned away from him and started back towards the bonfire you could see burning brightly in the distance.

“Girls like you are a dime a dozen.” he called after you.

You flipped him the bird over your shoulder but you didn’t turn back to look at him.

“Asshole.” you muttered to yourself.

You should have listened to Spencer, he’d always been a good judge of character. Maybe you’d have to apologise to him.

You made your way back to the bonfire to find him and make up but you didn’t have to look far.

He was sitting on one of the logs next to the fire but he wasn’t alone.

He had a petite redhead sitting in his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck. And her lips were hungrily exploring his.

“Oh god.” you felt like you’d just been kicked in the chest, like all the air had been forced from your lungs.

You lost your grip on the beer bottle and it fell to the ground.

His hands were gently on her hips, holding her place while he explored her mouth.

Your tears came out of nowhere, alarming you as they started heavily cascading down your cheeks.

Just as a sob wracked your body, you took off running up the bank and towards the car.

You couldn’t watch anymore. Seeing Spencer kiss that girl made your heart feel like it was shattering into a thousand tiny pieces.

You got back in the car and sobbed. Every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was Spencer and that girl, locking lips.

And all you could think was, it should be me.

***

“Sorry if that was really forward of me.” Rose blushed a little when the kiss ended.

Spencer was blushing too, but he had been since their lips first touched.

“I-it’s o-ok.” he stuttered, completely baffled by what had just happened. “I-it was n-nice.”

“I hope it was a little more than nice.” Rose giggled.

But it wasn’t. It was simply nice. It was a nice kiss but it wasn’t with you. He’d kissed girls before but it never felt quite right. And he knew it was because he wasn’t kissing you.

He didn’t speak, he couldn’t find the right words to say.

Rose’s face fell a little and she slid off Spencer’s lap onto the log next to him.

“I know that look.” she chewed her lip. “That’s the look of a guy who is thinking about someone else.”

He wanted to argue with her but it seemed pointless.

“I’m sorry.” He shrugged pathetically. “You’re beautiful and you have no idea how much I wish I wasn’t thinking about someone else. But I am. I always am.”

“It’s ok.” She placed her hand gently on his knee. “It was nice to meet you Spencer.” She pushed herself up from the log.

“You too Rose.” He stood too, needing to find you before you did anything stupid with Greg.

Just as he had this thought, Greg came wandering towards the bonfire alone.

“Where’s Y/N?” Spencer rushed over to him.

“How should I know?” Greg scoffed. “That girl is a cock tease. Not worth my time.”

“Don’t say that.” Spencer practically whined, making Greg chuckle.

“What are you gonna do about it?” Greg snarled at him.

“I uh...I need to find Y/N.” He changed the subject. He did not want to get into a fight because he would most certainly lose.

“Whatever.” Greg scoffed, turning away from Spencer.

Spencer scanned the crowds but couldn’t see you, he knew he’d be able to pick you out of any crowd.

He practically sprinted back to the car, hoping to find you there and as luck would have it, there you were in the driver's seat.

But even in the dark he could see that you were crying.

He ran to the passenger door and flung it open.

“Oh my god Y/N, what’s wrong?” He threw his arms around you, pulling you closer over the console.

“Get off me.” You pushed him away, sniffing back your tears.

“What’s wrong? What did Greg do?” He asked clearly not noticing your hostility towards him.

You sighed, not wanting to tell your best friend you were crying over seeing him kiss another girl, you shook your head, fixing your seatbelt in place.

“Nothing. I just want to forget all about tonight.” You started the engine.

“O-ok.” Spencer chewed his lip.

Neither of you spoke again on the drive back to the campsite or once you were back in your pod.

You slipped into the bed and Spencer in his sleeping bag on the floor.

Neither of you got much sleep that night, you both had too much on your mind. Namely, being in love with your best friends who were seemingly oblivious.

***

The next morning when you awoke you decided today was a new day. You weren’t going to allow yourself to spend the whole trip being mad at Spencer.

You’d never seen him with a girl before, it had been a shock. But he was twenty two, he must have had girlfriends before you guess he’d just chosen not to tell you. And it wasn’t as though you’d never been with a man.

You resided yourself to the fact that you and Spencer were destined to be friends and that was ok. At least it would be ok. It had to be.

You knelt down on the floor next to his sleeping bag and watched him for a second. He was sound asleep, his breathing soft and even. His plump lips were parted ever so slightly and his hair was draped over the pillow. His eyelashes grazed the skins under his eyes.

Maybe it would be a little harder than you thought to just see him as a friend.

Suddenly his eyes fluttered open and landed on you.

He frowned a little, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.

“Uh...good morning.” He croaked, voice riddled with sleep. “Were you staring at me while I slept?”

“No.” You scoffed, standing back up. “I was just wondering if I could free your hand and put it in a glass of water, see if that peeing thing really works.” You started rummaging through one of your bags to hide your blush from Spencer.

“Mature.” He laughed a little as he sat up. “Hey Y/N, are you ok?”

You took a few deep breaths and turned back to him with a large, fake smile on your lips.

“I’m great.” You beamed. “Now get up sleepy head, we’re going for a hike!”

And with that you took your clothes and stepped over him, undoing the front of the tent pod and disappearing.

Spencer ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh.

He wished falling out of love with you was as easy as it had been falling in love with you.

Not being in love with his best friend would make his life so much easier. But life never was good to Spencer.

***

Spencer loved your family but you were all much more athletic than he could ever hope to be. After a five mile hike, Spencer was exhausted. Sweat made his shirt cling to his body and his hair stick to his forehead.

When your mom had suggested stopping for the picnic she had packed, he was more than happy to oblige.

He practically fell to the grass on his back, panting and sweating.

“If it wasn’t for that huge brain of yours there is no way you would have gotten into the FBI.” you laughed as you flopped down next to him.

“Be nice Y/N.” your mom scalded you to which you rolled your eyes.

Your mom set some food while your dad poured glasses of soda for you all. You spent an hour sitting in the sunshine eating while Spencer worked on getting his breath back.

They still had a five mile walk back.

Spencer found himself stealing glances at you as you ate, like he usually did. He never grew tired of watching you.

You were wearing cargo pants and a vest top. His eyes caressed the side of your neck and the curve of your shoulder and your collarbone. Your skin glistened a little from the heat.

His eyes grazed up to the side of your face and the stray strand of hair that fell onto your face. He wanted to lean in and tuck behind your ear but that seemed too intimate.

He must have been watching you for a long time because when he resurfaced from his thoughts your mom was packing up what was left of the picnic.

“Spence and I will make our way back.” You stood up and brushed down the back of your cargo pants.

“Don’t get lost.” You dad shot you a sarcastic look.

“We’ll be fine. Come on Spence.” You encouraged to which he stood too.

“See you later.” He waved at your parents before following where you had already started walking.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” He asked once he caught up with you.

“No idea.” You shrugged.

“Oh good, just what I want. To get lost in the woods with you.” He rolled his eyes.

“Yeah I’m sure you’d much rather get lost in the woods with that redhead from last night, right?” The bitterness was seeping from your words.

Spencer stopped in his tracks.

“Uh...what redhead?” He tried to lie, he didn’t know what you’d seen so he didn’t want to give away too much.

“Don’t play dumb Spencer.” You stopped too so you could look at him. “The one who was cosied up on your lap, eating your face.”

“Oh. That redhead.” He chewed his lip. “I uh...didn’t realise you saw that.”

“Well I did.” You shrugged. “Looked like you were having fun.”

“It w-was...she was nice I guess.”

“Good.” You spat a little more harshly than you’d meant to.

Spencer frowned, stepping closer to you, leaves crunching under foot.

“Are you annoyed?”

“What? No. Why would I be annoyed?” You scoffed, giving him your best eye roll.

“You seem annoyed.”

“Well I’m not.”

“Good. Because you wouldn’t have any right to be.” It was like he was poking a bear with a stick. He was trying to get a rise out of you.

“And why wouldn’t I?” It was working, you were rising to it.

“Because you left me alone while you went off to do god knows what with Greg. I had to pass the time somehow.”

“By sticking your tongue down some random girl's throat?”

“I’m sure you were doing much more with him.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” You growled, stepping closer to him now.

“You know exactly what that means.” He stepped closer to you too, as though you were challenging each other.

“You really think I was off fucking him?” You raised your voice. “Is that what you think of me?”

“Weren’t you?” He shrugged.

“I most certainly was not! He tried to get fresh with me and I pushed him away. He was a jackass! And then I come back to find you making out with that girl!”

“So you are annoyed about that?”

“Yes, happy? Yes I am annoyed about that.” You yelled.

Spencer closed the space between you but you stepped backwards away from him. He backed you into a tree where you collided with the bark.

He put his hands either side of your head pinning you in place.

Where had this side of him come from?

“Why are you annoyed Y/N?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes you do.”

“No I don’t.” You tried to insist but you knew he could see right through you.

“Tell me. Tell me why you’re annoyed with me for Christ sakes Y/N! What did I do that was so wrong? I was just having some fun.”

“Without me.” You pouted.

“I can’t have fun without you?”

“No, it’s not that.” You shook your head, very conscious of how close Spencer was to you.

“So what is it then? Tell me.”

“I don’t like seeing you with another girl ok?” You raised your voice again.

“But I have to see you with another man?”

“I offered myself to you Spencer. I said all you had to do was ask. You said no. What was I supposed to think?”

“Y-you…you meant that?” His facade faltered and his hands fell to his sides.

“Of course I did.” You spat.

“You...you…” he swallowed.

“It should have been me you were kissing. Asshole.” You mumbled pathetically.

Spencer didn’t know what came over him at that moment but he couldn’t hold back.

He took your face in his hands and pushed you back against the tree trunk before pressing his lips to yours.

For a moment you kissed him back but then your anger returned and suddenly you were pushing him away.

“Stop it!” You yelled. “It’s too little too late Spencer. I don’t want to be your second choice. I don’t want you after she’s had you.”

“S-second choice? Y/N you could never be my-“

“Save it.” You pushed passed him and started walking again. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. We need to get back before it starts getting dark.”

You didn’t know what had come over you. All you’d ever wanted was to feel Spencer’s lips on yours. But when he kissed you, all you could think of was that redhead from last night.

And it broke your heart all over again.

***

“Spence?” You whispered into the dark. “Spence are you awake?”

It had been a long, awkward walk back followed by a long, awkward evening back at the campsite with your parents.

You and Spencer had said barely two words to each other before you called for an early night and crawled into your bed.

“Yeah I’m awake.” He whispered in reply from the floor.

“I’m...I’m really cold.” You felt foolish but you were freezing, you couldn’t seem to warm up.

And the only thing you could think that would help would be Spencer’s warm body next to you.

You heard him sigh followed by some rustling. Then you saw his silhouette beside the bed.

“You want me to warm you up?” He asked softly.

“If it’s not...too much to ask.” You didn’t deserve him being kind to you but that was the thing about Spencer, he was always there when you needed him. No matter what.

He sighed again before lifting the covers and sliding into the bed.

“Come here.” He held his arm open for you and you slid closer to him, his arm wrapping around your waist and you rested your head on his chest.

As suspected, he was radiating warmth. You snuggled into him sighing in content. He ran his fingers up and down your side.

“I’m sorry about earlier Y/N.” he spoke into your hair.

“Why are you sorry?”

“I shouldn’t have kissed you, not like that. It was wrong of me and I’m sorry.”

You shifted a little so you could look up at him.

“I’m the one who should be sorry, Spence. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did. I just...I don’t like the way I felt seeing you with that girl.”

“It didn’t feel great for me seeing you with Greg either.” he cupped your face with his free hand and stroked your cheek with his thumb.

“I don’t want to ruin our friendship, Spence.” a tear escaped your eye. “You’re my best friend and I don’t want to do anything to change that. But I can’t pretend that it didn’t hurt to see you with another girl. And I suppose that means I have feelings for you that go beyond friendship. But I can’t lose my best friend Spence.” a few more tears fell and Spencer tried to wipe them away with his thumb.

“I know Y/N, me too.” He agreed, chewing his lip.

You settled back into his chest and he tightened his hold on you. If this was as close as he could have you then he was going to soak in every moment.

Eventually you both fell asleep, into peaceful slumbers brought on by being wrapped in each other’s embraces.

***

For the rest of the week you and Spencer avoided unnecessary touches and glances each other’s way.

You tried to act normal. You tried to act like you hadn’t kissed and spent the night in each other’s arms.

You knew your parents suspected something was amiss with the two of you, you weren’t quite as pally as you usually were but neither of them said anything.

You spent days at the lake, you went for hikes and sat around the campfire in the evenings as the sunset around you.

On your final night your parents retired to their pod but you remained sitting on one of the logs, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

“Are you coming to bed?” Spencer asked you softly.

“Not yet, I might watch the stars for a while.”

“Want company?” He smiled at you and you nodded.

He laid his own blanket out of the ground and motioned for you to come over.

You laid side by side on your backs and you draped your blanket over the top of you both as you stared up at the sky.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving for DC when we get back.” You sniffed back any tears that might fall. “I have to spend the rest of the summer at home without you.”

“You’ll be off to college in a few weeks. You’ll forget all about me.”

You rolled your head to the side and he did the same so you were looking at each other.

“Spence, I could never forget you.” You reached for his hand and entwined your fingers.

He sighed in content at your touch. It was the most physical contact you’d had in almost a week.

“I’m going to miss you so much.” He gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m going to miss you too Spence.”

You laid like that under the stars, just staring into each other’s eyes for some time. There were so many things you both wanted to say but nothing seemed good enough.

Somehow you ended up closer together on the blanket, you’re not sure how it happened. You weren’t sure if you’d moved closer or if Spencer had or maybe you both had, but somehow you ended up with barely a few inches between your faces.

You could feel his soft breath on your face and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his lips. That kiss had burned itself into your brain and you couldn’t believe you’d pushed him away before you got to really enjoy it.

“Spence,” you whispered after a long stretch of silence.

“Yes Y/N?”

“All you have to do is ask.” You repeated what you’d said to him at the lake your first day.

He knew exactly what you meant and it made his chest tighten at the mere thought.

“Y/N?” He whispered, edging even closer to you.

“Yes?”

“Can I...c-can I kiss you?” He stuttered.

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t Spence.”

He let go of your hand so he could cup your cheek and slowly closed the small space between you.

This time when your lips met it was slow and soft. You revelled in the feeling of his plump, pillowy lips pressed against yours for a moment before you cautiously parted your lips.

Spencer was tentative in his movements as though you may push him away again at any moment.

But of course you didn’t. He slid his tongue in your mouth and started exploring you, slowly at first but soon an animal instinct took over.

He explored your mouth hungrily, holding your face delicately in his large hands. You wrapped your arms around his neck and helped him roll on top of you.

He was hard already, you could feel it pressing against you and you knew a kiss wasn’t going to be enough.

You played with his hair, tugging it a little and he moaned into your mouth, subconsciously grinding his hips into yours.

You dared to let your hands roam his back until you reached the hem of his hoodie and slipped your hands under the fabric.

He moaned again at the feeling of your hands on the skin of his back. It spurred you on to rake your nails lightly over his flesh. You were met with another hard roll of his hips.

The kiss ended so you could both gasp for the air that had left your lungs. Spencer chewed his lip nervously, scared of what might happen next.

“Should w-we uh...do you want to go into t-the tent?” he was so unsure of himself. He didn’t want to sound as though he was being presumptive.

“No,” you whispered, but you were smiling. “I want to stay out here.”

“B-but your parents…”

“Sleep like logs.” you laughed, stroking back his hair. “Spencer, I want you to make love to me under the stars. Do you think that’s something...something you can d-do?” you suddenly felt nervous telling him what you wanted. Maybe that’s not what he wanted? Maybe it was just a kiss?

But the hiss that slipped from his lips told you it was exactly what he wanted.

“I-I...there is n-nothing in the world I want m-more.” he swallowed. “B-but I...I’ve never...done this before.” his cheeks turned crimson in an instant.

Your heart swelled. You had no idea. You assumed Spencer was just quiet about his exploits. You had no idea he’d never been with a woman before.

“Oh,” you didn’t really know what to say. “Is this...have you ever pictured, you know, what your uh...first time would be like?”

His blush deepened and he gnawed heavily on his lip.

“All the time.” he confessed. “And it’s always with you.”

“Kiss me Spence.” you smiled at him, pulling him closer again by his neck.

Your lips met again but this time it was much more frantic and desperate, now you both knew exactly where this was going.

You hooked your fingers under the hem of his hoodie and pulled it up his body. He sat back so he could pull it over his head.

“T-shirt too.” you told him with a smirk while he was sat up.

He looked a little nervous but he complied. In all the years you’d known Spencer you didn’t think you’d ever seen him shirtless before. He was always conservative, insecure about how skinny he was. But in that moment he didn’t have time to worry about his insecurities, all he wanted was you and that was all that mattered.

He discarded the items of clothing, pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders. Your eyes raked up and down his torso and soon your fingers followed suit, running over his flesh. He hissed again, telling you he liked it.

“W-what about you?” you swallowed nervously.

“What about me?” you smirked. You knew what he meant but you wanted to hear him say it.

“Y-you uh...can I...your dress?” he was blushing again and it was so adorable.

“Spencer, you can do whatever you like to me.” your voice was dripping with seduction and it made his cock twitch achingly. Oh how he’d dreamed of this moment.

His hands were shaking as he reached for the bottom of your dress. He was slow to raise the fabric, making sure you weren’t going to change your mind.

He inched it up your thighs and paused when he got it to your hips. The black pair of lace panties you wore underneath made his head spin.

“Oh gosh.” he panted a little as he spoke.

You smiled, arching your back so he could continue undressing you. Inch by inch the fabric got higher and higher, revealing more of your body.

Once you had discarded the dress, Spencer sat back again to take you all in. Your panties had a matching bra, cupping your breasts magnificently.

“Do you like what you see, Spence?”

“Are you kidding?” He smiled. “You are perfection Y/N.”

You raked your nails down his chest once more and came to a stop at the waistband of his trousers. You toyed with the button a little.

“Can I?” You whispered.

He chewed his lip and nodded.

You unbuttoned his trousers and tugged them over his hips. He wriggled out of them and tossed them in a pile with the rest of the clothes.

His cock was straining at the front of his boxers, begging to be freed.

You allowed yourself to palm him through his underwear. His head fell back and he moaned deeply.

“Oh gosh.” He panted. “I’m sorry, no ones ever touched me like this before.”

You smiled to yourself, loving that no other woman had been here before. But you could also tell if you were to touch him properly, he wouldn’t last to the main event.

You moved your hand to his wrist and guided his hand between your legs instead.

You panties were soaked already.

He looked at you with large, uncertain eyes, but you nodded in encouragement.

“Please Spencer?”

He swallowed.

“What if I’m no good.” He whined a little.

“It’s ok baby,” you cooed. “You could never make me feel anything other than amazing.”

You let go of his wrist and his fingers shakily played with the lace fabric.

He took a few deep breaths before he moved the fabric aside enough so he could get to your heat.

He was so cautious with his movements, trying to ensure he was doing everything right.

He’d read books. He’d watched porn. But he’d never had the real thing.

He started slow, circling your clit with his fingertip in gentle movements. It was enough to make several moans leave your parted lips and he took that as a good sign.

You pulled him down by his neck so you could kiss him again and his confidence built a little, moving his fingers faster between your legs.

“Oh god Spence,” you mumbled into his lips. “That feels so good baby.”

Spencer felt a swell of pride that he was able to make you feel good, but he wanted more, needed more.

“Y/N,” he panted. “C-can I...can we…”

“Yes Spence. God yes.” You kissed him again and he reluctantly removed his hand from between your legs.

You arched your back and unhooked your bra.

His mouth fell open at the sight of your breasts and he moaned viscerally.

You smiled, taking hold of both of his wrists now and placing his large hands on your breasts.

“F-fuck.” He moaned feeling you beneath his hands. “Jeez Y/N.”

You laughed, now working on sliding your panties down your legs.

Spencer gave your breasts a small squeeze, tweaking your nipples a little between his fingers.

You moved your hands to his hips and cautiously slid his boxers down his hips. You couldn’t stop the small moan that left your lips as you freed his erect member.

“Fuck Spence,” you groaned eyeing him up.

He removed his hands from your breasts so he could shimmy his boxers off.

He laid back down on top of you, his cock nestling between your legs. He kissed you softly, stroking back your hair.

“Y/N, I need to tell you something before w-we...you know…”

“You can tell me anything.” you encouraged him.

“Y/N, I have been in l-love with you for as long as I can remember. I need you t-to know that. I need you to know h-how inconceivably in love with you I am.”

You felt tears spring to your eyes at his words. You pulled him close for another kiss.

“Spencer, I love you too baby.” you whispered, making him sigh in relief.

“I have waited so long to hear you say that.”

“You should have asked.” You smirked, kissing him again. “Are you ready baby?”

He nodded with a deep breath. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he kept his eyes firmly on yours he slowly pushed his way inside of you.

His eyes widened and his jaw fell slack. Nothing in the world could have prepared him for the way you felt. Honestly, he almost came as soon as your tight heat was sheathed around him.

He pushed all the way inside you, filling you up beautifully. He paused to take a few steadying breaths.

“Are you ok?” You traced your finger along his bottom lip.

“Yeah,” he panted. “I just need a minute. I don’t want to uh…f-finish too soon.” He blushed.

“Take your time Spence.” You smiled lovingly at him.

He took a few more breaths and captured your lips in a kiss before he started moving slowly.

He was careful in his movements, slow and gentle as though you were made of glass.

He withdrew almost all the way, before slowly plunging back inside you.

His eyes rolled back in his head and the two of you moaned together under the starry sky.

“Jesus Y/N.” He gasped. “This f-feels so...so…”

“I know Spence,” you kissed him harder, messily exploring his mouth, your hands roaming his body and he moved in and out of you.

“I’m r-really not g-gonna…l-last long.” He spoke into your lips.

“Touch me again Spence. I want to come with you.”

He exhaled, moving his hand between your bodies and his fingers started circling your clit once more as he continued his slow thrusts.

The feeling of being inside you was otherworldly. Spencer had never dreamed in a million years it would feel this magical.

He wanted it to last forever. He never wanted this end. If he could feel one thing for the rest of his life he wanted it to be you wrapped around his dick.

He was getting closer and closer to the edge but now his fingers were working deftly on you, so you were you.

You found it hard to believe he’d never done this before because he was amazing at it. He seemed to know just what to do to bring you to your orgasm.

“I’m s-sorry Y/N…I can’t...I’m g-gonna…”

“Me too Spence.”

Hearing you moan his name was all he could take and with one last thrust, Spencer came, filling you with his load.

You came too, clenching around his spasming cock.

He fell on top of you, panting and moaning into your neck.

You wrapped him in your arms and kissed his messy hair.

“God damn Spencer,” you panted. “That was incredible.”

“R-really?” He lifted his head so he could look at you.

“Absolutely.” You held his face and kissed him gently. “I love you Spencer.”

“I love you too Y/N. So much.”

“Shall we go to bed?”

“Five more minutes under the stars?” He asked to which you nodded.

He gently pulled out of you and rolled onto his back on the blanket. You curled into him, resting your head on his chest.

He wrapped one arm around you and held your hand tightly.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” You sighed sleepily, looking up at the night sky.

“Not half as beautiful as you Y/N.”

***

It didn’t take long at all for you both to fall asleep like that. Thankfully you woke up before your parents and managed to sneak back into your tent before they found you.

Your dad would have a coronary if he found the two of you like that.

The drive back was long, it seemed longer than on the way. Maybe because you knew your time together was coming to an end.

Tomorrow Spencer would be leaving for DC and who knows when you would next see each other again.

At least you had your night together under the stars.

You were both exhausted when you arrived home so retired to your own homes to rest, Spencer promising to come and see you before he left the following morning.

Your night together had been magical, but the air between you was now stifled. It was what Spencer feared most. Giving into his urges had probably ruined your friendship.

And now he was leaving and didn’t have time to make it up to you.

As promised he showed up at your front door the following morning, his car already packed up.

You stepped out onto the porch and closed the front door behind you.

“I can’t believe you’re really leaving.” you wrapped your arms around your body as though shielding yourself from the pain that was going to be caused.

“I know, me either. I never imagined leaving Vegas, not permanently anyway.” he shrugged sadly.

“Don’t forget about me when you’re a hot shot in the FBI, Agent Reid.” you gave him a half smile.

“You and I both know it’s Doctor Reid.” he tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sigh. “Look Y/N, I need to know. After what happened the other night…”

“Spence-”

“Where do we stand Y/N?” he cut you off. “What...what are we?”

You sighed heavily and tried to smile even though your heart was breaking.

“We’re best friends, Spence.” you shrugged. “Always.”

“Best friends.” he muttered sadly. “That’s what I thought.”

“Spencer, we’re moving to different parts of the country, I’m not sure exactly what you thought that night was.”

No, neither am I.

“What was it to you?” he said instead.

“I guess...it was a perfect way to say goodbye.”

Spencer couldn’t keep his resolve any longer and his tears broke free, falling down his cheeks.

“Of course. Goodbye.” he whispered.

“Spence, please don’t cry.” you reached for him but he stepped out of your touch.

“I need to uh...g-get going. It’s a long drive to Quantico.” he rubbed the palms of his hands heavily over his eyes.

“Spence,”

“Really, I n-need to go.” he turned away from you and jogged down the front steps of your house and down the path.

“Spencer, please don’t leave like this.” you called after him, dangerously close to tears yourself.

“Goodbye Y/N.” he turned back to you when he reached the front gate. “I’ll always love you.” he sniffed but before you could say anything more, he was gone.

He ran to his car and seconds later he was inside and you were watching him pull away.

You fell to the ground on the porch and you sobbed. What else could you possibly do? You’d lost your best friend and the love of your life in one fell swoop.

All because of one stupid night under the stars.

Ask the stars up in the sky,

Ask the stars they’ll tell you why.

Stars know ev’ry little thing you do,

There’s a little star that’s watching you.

Ask the stars when you’re with me,

Ask the stars then watch and see.

***

Quantico, Virginia - 2020

Seventeen years seem to pass almost in the blink of an eye. One day Spencer was walking into the BAU for the first time and seemingly the next he was almost forty with a lifetime of trauma behind him.

He thought about you every single day for the longest time. He wondered what you were doing with your life. Were you happy? Had you met someone and got married? Had kids?

Honestly he probably still thought about you every day of his life until he met Maeve.

Maeve was a wonderful reprieve from thoughts of you, and for the first time in almost ten years you hadn’t been the first thought on his mind when he woke in the morning.

But he’d never loved her the way he loved you. It was probably for the best that he and Maeve never got to be together properly because it would have inevitably ended when he couldn’t give her his whole heart.

No, he’d left a piece of that in Vegas years ago.

After Maeve he thought about you from time to time but not everyday like he once had. When he was incarcerated he thought about you a lot. He wondered what you think of him if you could see him sitting in that cell, becoming a man he didn’t recognise. Surely you wouldn’t recognise him either.

Then he met Max and once again he thought maybe, just maybe he would finally be able to give his heart to someone else. But his hopes were dashed. They dated for a few months but she always knew there was someone else. Someone else occupied his mind and his heart and it wasn’t fair on Max to stay with her in the hopes that one day he might be able to love her like he loved you.

You hadn’t fared much better in the love department.

You met a man in college and the two of you married at the tender age of twenty one. You knew you were over compensating. You knew this wasn’t the man you were supposed to be with. But he helped take your mind off your lost love and you were sure in time you would stop thinking about Spencer all together.

But of course you didn’t.

The marriage lasted three years and you were divorced soon after your twenty fourth birthday. There had been other men over the years, but none lasted very long.

They scratched an itch. They filled a void in your life that had existed since Spencer walked out. But inevitably you couldn’t commit so each one ended quicker than the last.

You stayed in Vegas all those years, maybe hoping one day Spencer would come back to you, but of course that had been foolish. Spencer was off living his own life, he probably hadn’t given you a second thought in years.

And then, at the age of thirty five, the job offer came that changed everything.

***

“It’s so quiet around here.” Luke mused as he and Spencer walked through the bullpen.

“Yeah I know what you mean. How is Garcia getting on at her new job?”

“She’s enjoying it but she misses the BAU.”

“Tell her we miss her too. Isn’t her replacement meant to be starting today?”

“She is and she’s settling into her new office.” Emily’s voice caught Spencer and Luke’s attention.

“I guess we should go and introduce ourselves.” Luke shrugged.

“Sure,” Spencer shrugged too and the two of them made their way out of the bullpen towards Garcia’s old office.

“I bet it’s going to be so drab.” Luke laughed.

“No more unicorn mugs or fluffy pens.” Spencer agreed.

“Penelope is one of a kind.”

“Undoubtedly.” Spencer swiped his card on the door and pushed the door handle before stepping into the office, Luke just behind him.

“You must be our new technical analyst.” Luke spoke as the door closed behind the two agents.

The woman sat in Garcia’s old chair tapping on the keys turned in the chair to face them.

She seemed to move in slow motion.

“I’m SSA Luke Alvez and this is Doctor-”

“Spencer Reid.” she cut him off, the words falling from her lips.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” Spencer croaked, glaring at the woman in front of him as if he’d seen a ghost.

Luke frowned looking between the two of them who seemed to have forgotten his presence.

Spencer and Y/N stared at each other without saying a word. Spencer’s chest tightened, constricting his breathing. Was he having a heart attack? Was this how he was going to die?

“You uh, know each other?” Luke spoke up.

“Uh...did know each other.” you croaked not tearing your eyes away from Spencer.

“A long time ago.” Spencer added, not looking away from you either.

Sensing the tension in the room, Luke backed up towards the door.

“Maybe I should let the two of you get reacquainted.” he said but neither of you acknowledged him.

He pushed his way back into the hall just as JJ was heading his way.

“Hey, I was just coming to meet the new tech analyst.” she smiled at him.

“I would give it a minute.” Luke told her, making her frown.

“Why?”

“There’s a lot of unfinished business in that room, trust me.” he put his arm around her shoulders to lead her away from the door.

“Spencer and the new Garcia?”

“Yeah.” Luke sighed. “If my profiling skills are accurate, I would say they were in love once. Probably still are.”

Back inside Garcia’s old office, you and Spencer were still staring at each other.

“I had no idea you still worked here, I swear. I wouldn’t have taken the job if I’d known.” you chewed your lip awkwardly.

“You look different.” he spoke as though ignoring what you’d said.

“Well yes, it has been a long time Spencer.”

“Seventeen years, three months and fifteen days.”

“Precisely.” you frowned at his recall. “I’m not eighteen anymore.”

“No and I’m not twenty two.” he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

It was longer now, curlier and messier. He sported stubble on his cheeks and dark circles under his eyes. He’d gained weight, somehow gotten even taller you were sure.

He was most certainly not the twenty two year old Spencer Reid you had spent a night with under the stars.

“You look different too. Good different.” you told him.

“A lifetime of trauma will probably do that.” he nodded stiffly.

“Spencer? Strange question for you…”

“Yeah?”

“Did you uhm...did you ever tell Penelope about...that night.” you felt yourself blushing.

Spencer closed his eyes for a moment with a sigh.

He hadn’t been this drunk in a really long time. Maybe ever. Spencer never had been a big drinker. But they’d had a tough case and Garcia had suggested they all spend the evening at her apartment drinking.

Spencer couldn’t recall who exactly had suggested the drinking games, possibly Kate, but they had been Spencer’s downfall.

“You never did answer the question,” Garica helped Spencer into his jacket after everyone else had left.

“What question?” he slurred, narrowing his eyes on her.

“During truth or dare Morgan asked you how you lost your virginity. You didn’t answer.”

He swallowed, stumbling over his feet a little.

“I uh…” he sighed. “It was with my best friend. On a camping trip under the stars.”

“How romantic!” Garcia swooned.

“Hmm not really. It doesn’t have a happy ending.”

“I don’t remember,” he opened his eyes. “Why?”

“I met her a few times before she left, she was training me up while you guys were away on cases. She told me about the team and that’s when I figured out you still worked here, but I’d already accepted the job by then. Anyway I told her I used to know you, that we were best friends. I didn’t really think much of it until I found this today.” you fished in your pocket and pulled out a brightly coloured post it note. “It was slotted between the desks. I recognise her handwriting.”

You handed the small folded up note to Spencer who took it and unfolded it. In Garcia’s signature handwriting, it read, “You’re in love, just ask the stars.”

“Ok so maybe I did tell her about my best friend who I lost my virginity to under the stars.” he confessed.

“Ah then the note makes sense.” you took it back from him and slid it back into your pocket.

“Yeah.”

Silence followed, heavy, palpable silence.

He thought maybe after all this time he didn’t feel as strongly about you as he used to. But looking into your beautiful eyes, all those feelings came flooding back to him. He didn’t have a shadow of a doubt that he was still in love with you.

The question was, did you still feel the same?

As if reading his mind you stepped a little closer to Spencer, cautiously at first but when he didn’t shy away you came even closer.

You took hold of his tie and played with it between your fingers.

“I know what you’re thinking Spence,” you smiled coyly. “I always know what you’re thinking.”

“You should have been a profiler.” He smiled softly, making you laugh.

“I’ve said it once, Spence and I’ll say it again. If you want to know if I’m still in love with you...all you have to do, is ask.”

When they twinkle, twinkle,

Wedding bells will tinkle, tinkle.

You’re in love, just ask the stars.

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enhypenandpaper · 3 years

Text

rewriting fate (to get the ending we deserve) | yang jungwon

pairing: Yang Jungwon x gn!reader

genre: soulmate!au, angst (with a happy ending), some fluff

warnings: blood, self-inflicted wounds (in an unconventional sense), mentions of scars, self-doubt

word count: 2.3k

summary: in a world where the universe designates two people as soulmates with matching tattoos, you were raised to trust and respect the universe’s will to no end. however, when the boy you love turns out not to be the other half of your fated pair, you begin to question how much the universe can really be trusted. are you and Jungwon actually making a mistake? Or has the universe?

You were laying on your back next to your boyfriend, the blanket he always kept in his car for moments like this protecting your clothes from the wet grass. With the stars shining above you and the boy you loved beside you, you felt like you could conquer the world.

You turned your head so you could look at Jungwon; his big, sparkling eyes, his soft hair resting on his forehead. Your eyes travel down his long neck and pause at the collarbones peeking out from his t-shirt. You watch as his chest rises and falls, it takes a moment for you to realize that yours is moving at the same pace. Your breathing was linked.

Jungwon, having felt your stare, moved his head to confront you. He raised his eyebrows and started to smirk, obviously about to make a joke about how whipped you were for him until you interrupted.

“You’re so beautiful,” you tell him.

Now it’s your turn to smirk, watching Jungwon try and fail to hide the way your words affected him, pressing his lips together to hide his smile and turning to face the night sky again so you can’t see how pink his cheeks are.

Your boyfriend unlaces your hands and, before you can whine, configures the two of you so that you can rest on his chest with his now free arm around you.

You snuggle closer into him, feeling his heartbeat pulse through your body.

“My parents had a talk with me,” you blurt out, unable to keep it a secret like you originally planned.

“…About?” Jungwon asks tentatively.

“They think we’re too old to be dating someone who isn’t our soulmate.”

God, you hated that word.

In this world, everyone was born with a mark, sort of like a tattoo, somewhere on their body. The placement changed with each generation and growing up, you and your peers walked around with dark blue drawings right above your hearts, courtesy of the universe. There were only two of each mark per generation, a matching pair indicating that those two people were soulmates.

Soulmate, perfect match, life-long confidante, a person who complemented you in every way and was worth any sacrifice, a person fated for you and you, them.

If you didn’t think it was total bullshit, you would’ve found it romantic.

You weren’t usually one to question the universe or think up complicated conspiracies to refute how the world worked, but this was something you wouldn’t budge on.

Because how could the universe always be right when you and Jungwon didn’t have the same mark?

Yang Jungwon, the boy with the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen and a smile to match. The person who could make you laugh at the most inappropriate of times, smile at the darkest, relax at the most stressful. The boy whose side you would never leave, the boy you would let the world burn for, the boy for whom you would do anything because anything that brought him happiness brought it to you by default.

Your best friend-turned-boyfriend, Jungwon has been by your side through it all. But now that you two were becoming adults, you were expected to leave your little “crushes” behind and start looking for your respective soulmates. People in your world still dated, even if they knew their significant other wasn’t their soulmate, but it was mostly seen as a way to gain experience for later. It was a given that if the person you were dating found their soulmate (or wanted to start looking), you would let them go with no questions asked.

That was sort of the plan when you and Jungwon started liking each other back in your last year of middle school, giggling and looking away whenever you held hands or made eye contact for long enough, but the young relationship that everyone cooed at easily developed into a strong bond between you and the boy lying next to you, an unbreakable bond that nobody could seem to understand.

So, to everyone else, you and Jungwon were just wasting time.

“Do you agree with them?”

“What?”

“Do you agree with what they said?” Jungwon repeated quietly. “Do you think we’re wasting time?”

“No,” you answered immediately, feeling your boyfriend exhale. “Do you?”

“Y/N, if I ever thought that this wasn’t worth it, I would’ve ended it right away. I would never hold you back like that.”

He always thought in terms of you, not him.

“But what if I’m holding you back? I want you to be happy, the happiest you can be, and if that means you have to be with someone else-”

“It doesn’t,” he assured you.

Your hand that was resting on his stomach fiddled with the fabric of his shirt.

“I told them that I had already found my soulmate, that I haven’t needed to look for anything since you moved in down the street.” You smile, thinking of how chubby Jungwon’s cheeks were when you first met as children.

He huffed out a laugh, raising his head to kiss the top of yours.

“You make me feel unstoppable,” Jungwon told you, “like the two of us could take on the universe when we’re together.”

“We kind of already are,” you joke, referring to how you’ve been ignoring the universe’s will for years now, “even the universe has failed at keeping us apart.”

You hesitated, unable to force something to the back of your mind.

“What about them, Jungwon? Are we horrible people for leaving them alone?”

He knew who you were talking about.

“I hope that they both have someone in their life who chooses them,” he told you, “instead of letting some glorified drawings control their happiness. I mean, if they really are supposed to be exactly what we need, maybe they aren’t looking for us either. Maybe they’ve found what we have.”

You sat up suddenly, Jungwon’s arm falling off your shoulders and flopping down beside his own body.

“What happens when you’re running errands one day or you’re out with your family and you see someone with the same mark as you?” You ask softly, staring ahead at the ground as your fingers tangled themselves in the grass, tugging and breaking the weak strands. “What if you meet them one day? What if someone’s shirt slips and it’s like you’re standing in front of a mirror or someone taps you on the shoulder because they could’ve sworn that-”

“Y/N,” Jungwon stops you, pleading.

You hear him sit up to join you.

You looked at him and physically felt all the anxiety leave your body in waves once your eyes met his. His sparkling eyes held so much love that it would be painful for anyone who didn’t share his feelings to look directly at them.

“There is nothing that anyone could say or do to ever make me rethink my decision, make me rethink you. We’ve never needed something to tell us how to feel, this relationship is entirely our own. Nothing can take away what we feel for each other… what we’ve built together.”

That was when you smiled, overwhelmed by the sweetness and the realness of the boy sitting next to you.

He was right, of course, your love wasn’t sketched out in the blueprint of the universe. It was grown and cultivated by two pairs of gentle hands, like a flower blooming in the box outside someone’s window or a blazing fire heating a home.

You had never needed the universe’s help to find true love.

Your boyfriend reached toward you, cradling your tear-stained cheeks with his hands.

“Do you feel that, Y/N? Do you feel like you’re on top of the world? Because that’s how I feel whenever I’m with you. You give me strength, strength that has defied the universe. How could a stranger pull my attention away from all of this? From you.”

“If they see them, how do we explain to them that there was some mistake?” You whispered.

You and Jungwon may be set on ignoring the curses inked on your chests, but the ones who shared your marks may not be.

One would think Jungwon was going to kiss you with the way he was staring at you, but his gaze was much too serious for that. It looked like he was searching for something, searching for a solution, an answer to your question.

But, instead of kissing you, he moved away and toward the picnic basket you had packed and brought for your little stargazing date.

He dug around for a few seconds before finding what he was looking for. The moonlight flashed across the silver knife as Jungwon moved back to where you were sitting with it in his hand.

“Jungwon…?”

He pushed his shirt off one of his shoulders. Your eyes grazed over his bare upper chest and sharp collarbones before settling on the blue ink resting above his heart.

The skin around his soulmate mark was a little lighter than the rest of his body, because of how often he covered it, which made it stand out even more.

It was the thing you hated most, permanently attached to the thing you loved most, so you couldn’t stop staring.

The glint of the knife tore you from your daze. Jungwon had raised it to his chest.

“Jungwon, what are you doing?”

He paused. “Choosing my own path.”

You placed your hand on top of his that was clutched around the hilt of the knife. You weren’t really sure what he was trying to do, you had never been so in the dark when it came to him before, but you knew that you didn’t like the idea of something dangerous being so close to your boyfriend.

“We should be free to be with whoever we want, Y/N, and for me, that’s you. Mark or not,” he told you.

You stared into each other’s eyes, a silent conversation passing between your gazes. You let go of his hand and watched, torn, as he brought the edge of the knife up to his chest and began to slice a clean line through his soulmate mark. He hesitated before drawing another line in the opposite direction, ending up with an “x” over this tattoo.

The blood dripping from the cut exposed how deep it really was. It would definitely leave a scar, as you knew was his goal.

You grabbed napkins from the picnic basket, carefully wiping the blood away from Jungwon’s skin before it all traveled far enough to stain his clothes. He sat there quietly, watching you, trying to gauge your reaction to what he had done.

You dabbed at his skin gently. With the blood gone you could really see what the knife had done. A red “x”—the blood was already coming back—had marred the small stain of the universe. He had made sure that nobody, not even his soulmate, would be able to see it, let alone recognize it as a copy of their own.

All those years of being told that the universe’s will was absolute and that a splotch of blue ink was the highest law that could be adhered to had been rendered invalid with two swipes of a knife. Jungwon had freed himself from the heavy, groundless expectations set by an invisible force and upheld by your friends, family, society.

The one thing that kept Jungwon from being completely yours (at least, in the eyes of everyone else), was now gone.

The knife lay discarded next to the two of you, blottings of Jungwon’s blood staining the blade and the picnic blanket beneath it.

“Y/N, if you’ll still have me-”

You picked up the knife, already brushing your shirt to the side with your other hand.

“Wait, I never expected you to-” he tried to stop you.

“I want to.”

His hands reached out toward you but stopped halfway, watching, confused, as your fingers traced the mark that, while completely different from his, was in the same exact spot on your chest.

You could feel your heart beating beneath your soulmate mark. It was pumping hard, as if to force the mark off your body from the inside. You thought of how much time you had spent hating the tattoo, wishing you would wake up one day and it would be gone or would have somehow morphed into something that resembled Jungwon’s.

You recalled the night when you realized that you loved Jungwon, no matter how much your own skin was telling you you didn’t, and you had tried to scratch the ink off. Of course, it was much too deep to take off like that, and the resulting redness just made it stand out even more like Jungwon’s had, results of the contempt for your marks.

You mirrored your boyfriend’s movements from before, crossing out your tattoo with the knife and ignoring the bleeding. Jungwon went to clean up the wound with napkins, like you had done for him, but you stalled him, wanting every last remnant of ink to bleed out of your body.

Once the bleeding had slowed down, Jungwon placed a hand over your heart that beat solely for him. His thumb rubbed the tender skin gently, marveling at the new look of it while still being careful around the fresh cuts.

“Look, Wonnie.” you point a finger at his hand on your chest and another at his own. “We match.”

The two of you had overridden the universe and created your own matching pair. A soulmate pair.

Jungwon smiled warmly, a giggle escaping past his lips as you shared this moment of disbelief and freedom and love.

He cradled your face in his hands once again, pressing his lips to yours and making you question how something so obviously perfect could ever be a mistake.

A/N: i hope that this isn’t… too much, the idea of two people making this choice for themselves, in this way, knowing that they were defying a fundamental law… i thought it was so romantic! drama is a little necessary when it comes to love, you know?

mwah <3

#yang jungwon #jungwon #jungwon fluff #jungwon angst #enhypen jungwon #enhypen #jungwon fanfiction #enhypen fanfiction

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exosmutfactory · 3 years

Text

Six Phases FINALE Pt 2

Originally posted by tipannies

Who knew it nearly took 6 months to win your heart, and 6 phases for Baekhyun to lose his mind.

A/N: Let’s give Riley the ending she deserves 💗

[ contains: smut & fluff~]

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

Tonight is a special occasion, one that requires the most lethal of dresses that I own. A dress I always had my eye on yet never dared to take out from the back of my closet. I could never find the right time to wear it—until now. Because tonight, oh tonight… I have a date with Baekhyun.

I pull up the spaghetti straps of my wine colored dress, making sure that the criss-cross stripes of fabric in the front are straight. This dress is definitely too cold for the first week of December, but that's what winter coats are for. For now, I will turn side to side to admire how the bodycon shape fits well with the cutout section exposing my stomach. Party in the front and business in the back.

Straightening the last strand of my hair, I smile when my phone lights up with a notification, knowing full well who it is. His cute usage of emojis visible on the screen tells me all that I need to know. Chuckling to myself, I set down my flatiron and reply to him.

Baekhyun planned a date at his apartment tonight, subtly dropping a hint about what I should wear. Mmhm, this isn't a t-shirt and sweatpants event. Based on the new black blazer in the back of his adorable selfie that he sent me the other day when he asked me out, I got a good idea of what I'm getting myself into.

Humming to myself, I check my reflection one last time and grab my keys before heading out. Let's see which shade of Baekhyun is awaiting me today.

Strutting my way to the elevator in my rose gold heels, I smile at my neighbor when she steps out onto our floor, whistling at my choice of attire. She winks at me as the doors close. Chuckling, I check my phone one last time, typing a quick reply to Sehun with my French tip nails letting him know that I'm okay. We've made a point to catch up with each other at the end of every week, whether face to face or over the phone. Unfortunately, I have plans tonight… and maybe tomorrow too. And the day after that.

Smirking, I repocket my phone and wrap my fluffy coat tighter around me, waving to the security guard while making my way out of the building. The bite of the December air is refreshing for my skin, the heat packed into my coat leaves me slightly too warm otherwise. I look both ways before crossing the parking lot, staying aware of my surroundings. The last thing I need is any drama from a careless driver or lurking thief in the streets. These heels are too expensive to break off into someone's ass for making me late.

My car unlocks with a familiar chirp, its headlights coming on while I walk around to the driver's side. Taking one last glance at the world around me and my back seat, I climb inside and set my purse down on the passenger's side. My phone vibrates just as I start the engine, buzzing faintly against the soft R&B CD playing on my radio. With a small smile, I check my rearview mirror and pull out onto the road.

I hum along to the first track, wondering if a UN Village actually exists while navigating to Baekhyun's apartment. The Christmas lights set up on the light poles in advance bring another smile to my face. Something about this time of year always sits right with me.

Before I know it, I'm pulling into a parking space at his apartment complex, waiting for the powerful vocals of the 6th song on the album to fade away. Sighing a little, I lean back in my seat, sweeping my eyes over the parking lot as the windows start to fog up. Who would have thought that I'd be back here nearly a year later? With warmth in my heart and a certain silver haired, idiotic yet adorable man on my mind.

"I love you," I mumble shyly, holding eye contact despite my heated cheeks and racing heart.

His whole face lights up with his smile, sparkly brown eyes outshining all the stars in the sky as he cups my cheeks in his warm palms. "I love you more."

Stepping out of my car, I pick up my purse and head inside, sharing a knowing look with the familiar security guard on my way to the elevators. It feels so good to be back, the year-long bad memories vanishing with every step I take. To my home—to my heart. The man my heart calls out for like a rescued fish returning to sea.

Butterflies flutter in my stomach when I arrive on his floor, taking my time to walk down the brightly lit hallway. I wonder what is in store for me tonight. After all, when it comes to Baekhyun, anything can be awaiting me on the other side of that door. Possibilities are endless.

Taking a deep breath, I knock on the door, smiling softly when it opens seconds later only for my jaw to drop to the floor.

Baekhyun... with his silver hair parted to the side, wearing fucking brown eyeshadow. That new black blazer of his has buttons on the ends of the sleeves, sitting perfectly on his broad shoulders. But the real sight to behold is lower down on his body, starting from his half-buttoned black shirt showing his honey-toned chest. That view alone could send a woman into a coma, but then he had to tuck his shirt into a pair of snug leather pants. The belt around his hips shows off the curves of his waist and those damn black heeled boots are back again.

I don't even care that he can see me practically drooling—I already know what's on my menu for tonight.

"Hey," He smiles charmingly, taking my breath away.

I take a moment to compose myself, peeking at him from under my eyelashes with a smile of my own. "Hi, B."

His eyes and smile soften. "Come in, it's cold out." He steps aside to let me in, closing the door behind me.

Humming softly, I relish in his alluring cinnamon scent. "Not really," I mumble distractedly, thinking of how much warmer I feel at the sight of him while he helps me take off my coat. The way his breath hitches has a smirk quirking at my red painted lips. "What are we having tonight?" I inquire, glancing over my shoulder at him.

Baekhyun's eyes immediately shoot up to mine. "D-Dinner," He coughs, trying to cover up his flushed face behind his hand.

"Oooo," I walk further into the apartment, following the spicy aroma of food and making my way to the kitchen. "Okay. What did you order in?"

"Actually," Baekhyun's citrus shampoo floats in the air when I reach the doorway, staring at the set table with wide eyes. "I made it myself," He mumbles shyly, the cool plastic of the flower pinned to his blazer brushing against my back.

"Holy shit…" It's a fucking feast. Fresh salad, crunchy garlic bread, and the most appetizing platter of spaghetti that I've ever seen in my life. Not only that, the single-lit candle in the middle of the table has my heart and below squeezing in earnest. This cheeky little hopeless romantic.

"The meat is turkey-based," Baekhyun perks up after a few moments, walking around to place used pots and pans in the sink. Busying his fidgety hands with moving everything off of the counter. "I bought hot sauce but didn't put much because I didn't know if you'd like it spicy or not."

Walking further into the room, I rest my hand on the back of a chair, watching him with a lick of my lips.

Baekhyun continues occupying himself with everything in the kitchen, not even noticing when I slowly approach him. "The toast is on the softer side and I have some sweet tomatoes in the fridge-"

Fuck it.

I grab him by his jacket when he turns around, tugging on him so hard that a few buttons pop off and scatter around on the floor.

Baekhyun gasps, stumbling a little before bracing his hands on the surface behind me, the dishes on the dining table rattling under our joined weight. "Riley-"

I smash my lips to his, kissing him with fervor, backing him up until his back presses against the counter. I'm relentless with tugging and biting down on his bottom lip, capturing it between my teeth. He moans right into my mouth when I part his lips, sucking hard on his tongue.

The audible smack of our messy kiss echoes around the walls of his apartment, steadily building up tension in my stomach and the ache between my legs. Baekhyun softly huffs and puffs for air after a few minutes, pulling back to catch his breath with rosy, lipstick-smeared lips. "D-Dinner-"

"I'd rather eat something else," I utter lowly, rubbing my hand down his chest. My eyes flicker back up to his wide orbs just in time to catch him gulping, his warm brown eyes darkening significantly.

He looks at me for a long moment, hesitation vivid in his body language. I step closer, cupping his cheek before pressing my lips to his, gently coaxing his soft lips to dance with mine. Baekhyun takes a deep breath before wrapping his arms around me, the caress of his hands over my exposed skin leaving goosebumps in their wake.

This, I muse, shivering in delight when my body is fully pressed against his, is what has been missing.

He grows more daring the longer our lips lock, his warm hands sliding up the back of my thighs and venturing under my dress, bunching up the fabric. His fingertips teasingly slipping between my thighs has my pussy quivering, my own palms tugging on his tucked in shirt to feel more of his skin. Baekhyun grips my ass before spinning us around, hoisting me up onto the counter while I tangle my hand in his hair, my lips still glued to his. I moan when his fingers land on my clothed core, welcoming him between my parted legs.

"You're so wet," He breathes, a look of awe on his face. Sweat is already dripping down from the edges of his hairline, casting his skin in a dewy glow under the dancing candle lights.

"I'm not the only one," I murmur, tapping the back of my fingers on the bulge in his snug pants.

Baekhyun groans, pulling me into another kiss, making me gasp when he tugs me closer to the edge of the counter, his hardon right against my heated core. I shiver, wanting to widen my legs and close them at the same time when he rolls his hips, the thin fabric of my lace thong doing nothing to conceal his erection from my throbbing clit.

Our loud moans and sloppy kisses fill the air, the temperature rising in the room with every roll of his talented hips. I tighten my grip on his hair, gritting my teeth to hold back the tension building between my legs. 11 months has been way too long for me to not be intimate with someone like this, but looking up at Baekhyun's already fucked out face, I wouldn't have it any other way.

With shaky hands and quivering legs, I reach down to undo Baekhyun's belt, flinging it out of my way before pulling his zipper down. My hand slips a few times when he moves my thong to the side, sliding his middle finger into my greedy core.

"Ah…" I pant, tilting my head back as he trails searing kisses down my neck. "Fuck." The feeling of him inside of me after so long has me squeezing my thighs around his waist, fighting the wave threatening to fall over me when he finds my sweet spot immediately.

"So good for me," He murmurs, sucking my earlobe between his teeth. He slips in another finger when I finally pull his cock out of his boxers, swirling my fingers around his tip and stroking him in my firm grip. We speed up as we pant into each other's mouths, too turned on and drowned in pleasure to keep up with our kiss.

"Fuck, baby." He pulls back, cheeks flushed a pretty red hue, "C-condom-"

"No time for that." I shake my head, digging my heels into his lower back only to pause, narrowing my eyes at him. "Unless-"

He shut me up with a kiss this time. "No." He murmurs, meeting my eyes, his firm grip tightening on my hips. "No one else but you."

I am surprised by his answer, but I just nod, letting him continue. I might not be able to read Baekhyun like a book as he says I do, but I know he doesn't fuck around when it comes to his health. Let alone when it concerns the pretty, thick dick he has. Brushing his hair away to look into his eyes, I part my lips only for my breath to hitch, blushing at the feeling of him aligning his cock with my entrance.

"May I?" He murmurs, resting his forehead on mine.

The annoying throb between my legs has me clenching my teeth. "If you don't-" I gasp, clutching onto his shoulders as he slides in to the hilt. The burn of him inside me after so long is more than I expected.

Baekhyun pauses to let me adjust, pressing a chaste kiss to my lips that just makes me spasm around him. A gasp escapes him in turn, his slender fingers digging into the soft swell of my hips. "Easy, baby." He strains, voice deepened in lust.

"Easy for you to say," I grumble through gritted teeth, my back arching when he circles his hips. He presses flush against my goosebump-covered skin, giving me warmth as he starts up a comfortable rhythm, spreading my legs as far as the counter will allow. I can't help but gulp, leaning back against my braced palms. Just the view of his stunning body fully dressed beside his unzipped leather pants is messing with my head, let alone his cock pressing every spot within my walls that drives me insane.

Baekhyun pulls out, and before I can say anything, I hear his knees hitting the floor. Silver locks of hairbrush against my inner thighs moments before warm, wet sensation brushes against my clit.

"Mmm," He moans, tightening his grip on my thighs when I jolt. He pulls me even closer to the edge of the counter, placing my legs over his shoulders, "Come here."

All I can manage to do is tangle my fingers in his luscious locks. Hopefully they are strong enough to sustain my knee-jerking tugs when he drags his lips over my core, sticking his tongue into my hole and taking my folds between his lips. Baekhyun is just… gentle, slurping and smacking his lips against my throbbing core without a care. He's taking his time down there as if he has all the time in the world. I feel bad for my arousal dripping onto the counter and all over his chin—it's embarrassing, but it's never been this… this good.

"So sweet," He murmurs, sliding his warm palms up my waist.

Trying my best not to succumb to the coil in my stomach, I risk a glance down at him. The sight of his tongue poking out from between his coated lips to caress my swollen nub in the gentlest of ways has me tensing up—even more so when his brown eyes flicker up to meet mine.

"Baekhyun." I pant, tugging harder on his hair.

"Come on," He breathes, gripping my hips when I start to tremble.

"B-Baekhyun." It takes everything in me to hold on, bracing myself against the counter. "I want you inside…" I throw my head back when he slips a finger inside, quickly followed by another.

"Give it to me." He demands, so softly in an airy tone, his breath hitching at a particularly hard tug on his roots. He's damn near pleading for it and it's driving me crazy. "Come all over my face, baby."

Yeah, there's no winning this fight. With his lewd words and soft lips wrapping tight around my clit, rolling it around inside of his mouth with his tongue, that's it. Game over. How I managed this long without falling over the edge by the works of his mouth is a mystery within itself.

Baekhyun doesn't stop humming and massaging my clit with his lips until I softly push his head away, closing my shaking legs. He stands back up, sliding his hands up my thighs and leaning in for a kiss. It's different from the others we've shared tonight, filled with a certain hint of gentleness and love that matches the yearning and adoration in his sparkly brown eyes.

"Fuck, Riley." Baekhyun pulls back, cock twitching in my hand when I rotate my wrist. He cards a hand through his hair, chuckling in disbelief. "You are driving me crazy."

"Yeah?" I drawl, wrapping my thighs around his waist. "Come show me crazy."

"I'm not gonna last…" He admits, looking worried.

"How long do you plan on loving me, Byun Baekhyun?" I demand, tucking my index finger under his chin for him to face me.

Baekhyun's eyes dance like shimmering orbs of light. "Until my last dying breath."

"Well," I breathe, butterflies fluttering my stomach when his words settle in. "I'm sure we can fit in plenty of rounds until then."

The sweetest smile forms on his handsome face before his brows knit together, biting his bottom lip when I pull him back inside, digging my heels into his back.

"Don't hold back," I whisper into his ear, brushing my lips over his neck. Baekhyun takes a shaky breath, pulling away until only his tip is in my sensitive core. The bruising grip he has on my hips is the only warning I get before he plunges back inside.

Baekhyun doesn't hold back in the slightest. He sets a fast, near brutal pace, lifting my hips to slam inside of me at an angle that has me screaming his name, clinging onto his clothed shoulders for dear life.

"Fuck, baby." He groans, his steady rhythm taking on sloppy, shallow thrusts. The squelch of our joined bodies stirs up an unexpected heat in me. "I'm gonna-"

"Yeah," I breathe, locking my legs around the back of his trembling thighs. My heart and pussy clench in earnest at the expression on his face.

Baekhyun pants, sweat dripping down his forehead and falling off of his jaw. The flap of his jacket exposing his chest with his shaky movements. "Can I-"

I lick the salty sweat from his heated skin, sucking harshly where his collarbone meets his gorgeous neck. "Inside me, B."

He groans the loudest one of the night, hiding his face in my neck as he pounds into me. His cum spills deep inside, hot and messy. The warmth of it triggers my own release. I have to bite down on his shoulder to contain the uncontrollably loud moan that's ripped from my throat with his final gentle thrusts.

Baekhyun slows down to a stop, his chest flushed to mine while we try to regain our breath. The smell of sweat and sex permeating the air has me giggling breathlessly, running my fingers through his damp hair.

"Fuck—baby," He mutters, hurrying to pull out. "Your dress."

"It's-" I moan, biting my lip when he slides his fingers back in.

"Where's a towel," He frantically looks around, the most comically concerned expression on his handsome, dewy face. "There it is! Ah, it's too far away... I'm sorry, baby-" He stops when I wrap my hand around his wrist, slipping his cum covered fingers between my lips.

"Take it off of me," I whisper, staring right into his dilated eyes.

"You'll be cold," He murmurs, looking between my eyes and my mouth sucking on his fingertips.

"Then warm me up," I purr, wrapping my thighs back around his waist.

Baekhyun's jaw drops, his cock already stirring against me. I reach down to take him into my hand, rubbing my fingers around his tip. "You'll be the death of me." He groans, tangling his hand in my hair and pulling me into a searing kiss.

Hours later, we're curled up in bed. My head on his pillow with his hands in my hair.

"W-Will you stay the night?" Baekhyun whispers, brown eyes no longer showing signs of tiredness.

I smile, completely in love with this new side of him. Baekhyun, in all that he is, is the most beautiful man in the world. "Of course, baby," I murmur, tracing random shapes on his honey skin.

He perks up with the most beautiful smile growing on his face, gently pulling me closer until my head rests on his chest, his fast-beating heart a dead giveaway to how happy he is. I kiss over his heart, looking up into his shimmering brown pools of love. Is he...? Gently swiping my finger under his eye has a tear falling down his cheek. And another. And another…

"You mean everything to me," He breathes, arms and legs tangled so much with mine I don't know where he ends and I begin.

I smile, falling asleep to the beat of his steady heart and the security of his warm arms. "You mean the world to me."

•••

Time goes by so fast when you're happy and in love, turning even your hardest days into nights that you want to remember. Just having that person you love the most by your side, through thick and thin, for better or for worse, makes all the difference in the world.

—The only downside is how agonizing time passes when you are apart.

I pop my bubble gum with my chin resting in my palm, humming and tapping my pen on my desk. After catching up on a day's worth of paperwork, (blame my procrastination… and spending the weekend at Baekhyun's,) I'm bored, impatiently waiting for noon. There's only one way to fix this mood before I'm in a slump for the rest of the day, and looking at the home screen of my phone, I plan to arrange that very soon.

As soon as 12:00 pops up on the clock, I tap the first number on my speed dial, pressing my ringing phone to my ear.

"Hello?" His honey-smooth voice flutters over the line.

"Baekhyun." I apply a fresh layer of lip gloss to my lips, tucking away my hair to make sure my diamond earrings don't get tangled. "Are you free for lunch?"

"Yeah." He mumbles distractedly, shuffling papers filter through the call before a door shuts.

"Come over." I demand, hanging up. Pushing back from my desk, I walk over to my vanity table, straightening out my black lace, sleeveless bra from under my robe. It's mid-Spring again, already hot enough to wake me up in the middle of the night when I don't sleep with my fan on. The perfect excuse for what I have planned for my "week off" of work. I don't care how many business meetings I have to host from the comfort of my own home.

The doorbell rings just as I'm smoothing down my hair, checking my reflection one last time in the mirror. I make my way out of my bedroom and into the living room, pulling the door open with haste.

Baekhyun stands on the other side with wide, frantic eyes, dressed impeccably in a black suit with his slicked back silver hair the slightest bit ruffled. "Riley, what-"

I yank him inside, crashing my lips to his, pressing his body to the door before it slams shut. His scent surrounds me in seconds, vanilla-scented clothes with traces of smoke. The rich citrus of his soft hair and the hint of musk on his skin from a long day of work. My hands are undoing his tucked in shirt before he can get a word in.

"Riley." He grunts, holding me close as I trail messy kisses down his gorgeous neck. I walk backwards to the couch, toppling onto it with him following me.

"How long before your next meeting?" I murmur, pulling him closer by his tie.

Baekhyun visibly gulps, brown eyes darkening significantly before they flicker back up to mine. "They'll survive." He chuckles, licking his lips, leaning in for another frenzied kiss.

Yeah, Baekhyun wasn't kidding about him being a workaholic—which I already knew, but damn if it isn't annoying sometimes. He's more busy stressing over the new designs for his clothing line than helping me plan his 27th birthday party. All my subtle questions to find out what he would want have been futile. It's just been him typing on that damn computer of his for hours.

I go around spraying the plants in his office, talking sweetly to each of them to make sure they get enough Co2. Their droopy leaves need some perking up with the sheer amount of gloom coming off of Baekhyun's furiously typing form.

He abruptly stops, sighing loudly for the 100th time today. "I should give up."

"Nooo," I pout, walking behind his chair to wrap my arms around his neck, taking a small peek at the rough sketches on his computer. " Keep going, don't give up now."

Baekhyun smiles tiredly, pressing a kiss to the back of my hand. "What do you know about that, hmm?"

"A bit." I smile softly, lightly resting my head on his. "Things may seem shaky now. Just out of reach. No longer within your control." Twirling his hair around my finger, I smile to myself. "But that's okay, it means you are being challenged. And a challenge conquered to the best of your abilities will do you a lot of good." I close my eyes, basking in his presence and comforting scent. "So keep going, you'll never know what you are capable of until you reach the end."

My eyes snap open when Baekhyun suddenly spins around, staring up at me with wide, teary brown eyes. "B-" I wheeze, not expecting him to pull me into his arms, hugging me like a lifeline. "Baekhyun…?" I try again, growing alarmed when his tears wet the front of my shirt.

He only holds me tighter in response, his chest silently heaving against mine. I slowly wrap my arms around him and gently tangle my fingers in his hair, pressing a kiss to his ear.

He's adorable, in every way, shape, and form. Ugh, I'm going to end up in a love-induced coma one day with the way my heartbeat always skips when I'm around him. No matter if I'm meeting him for lunch or if he comes to work across from me at my desk when I'm chasing deadlines, I wouldn't change a thing for the world.

—Except maybe his sense of timing things.

I startle awake, clutching my racing heart with unsteady breathing. The details of my nightmare slowly fade away, but it does little to calm me down. Feeling a sense of urgency, I clumsily search around for my phone. I'll text Baekhyun; I need to make sure he is okay.

My eyes squint at the bright screen of my phone, not expecting to check it in the middle of the night, let alone the notification I find there.

Baekhyunee💘💕🥺💓😘

Thursday, 2:34 am

Riley

Hlep

I nee d u

I fly out of bed like a bat out of hell, rushing over to his apartment, nearly hitting three pedestrians on the way. Parking hazardly in the first empty parking spot I find before jumping out and all but running to the fourth floor. I pound on his door loud enough to wake the whole neighborhood until he opens up, revealing bloodshot eyes and a can of beer in his hand.

"Baekhyun, what's wrong?" I pant, resting my hands on my knees and frantically looking him over. He mumbles something unintelligible under his breath. "What?" I demand, trying to catch my breath.

"I-I just..." He mumbles sluggishly, slouching his shoulders with sadness in his puppy eyes. "I just miss you."

My frantic heart softens. "Get inside and sit down." I demand, pressing a kiss to his cheek before closing the door.

I love this man so fucking much. Even if he annoyingly wakes me up sometimes at 2 to 3 am, I'd run over to his place with my baggy pants and sleeping cap in a heartbeat.

•••

June rolls back around before I know it. This time, however, I plan to decline Jongin's offer to participate in the dance competition again. But to my uttermost surprise, he'll be taking Kyungsoo instead. For tap dancing.

???

Just how multi-talented is Baekhyun's group of friends? Spare me some of that energy, please?

Speaking of friends, Chanyeol's tall figure invited us over to his house today, the mansion that he used to share with Baekhyun and Jongdae.

—I have a grudge against him right now though because he literally called Baekhyun in the middle of the night to challenge him to some video game duel. The comical way his face changed when he saw me glaring at him from the corner of their video call though. By the end of their conversation, an invite was extended to me and Sehun too. It's "best friends" night, and boy do I have a lesson for Park Chanyeol. Lesson one: never underestimate a woman on a mission. In work, life, or on the playing field.

"Damn, man," I mumble, looking wide eyed at the huge flat screen TV and various game consoles around the room. "Leave you alone with the mansion for 2 years and you stocked up your mancave to the finest degree."

Chanyeol flicks a few buttons on the wall next to the door that dims the lights, letting the bright TV and a few arcade games illuminate the room. Baekhyun's eyes twinkle brighter than anything else in the spacious room. He goes over to chat with Chanyeol while I stand in the doorway with Sehun.

"Hey," I whisper, nudging him. "Remember when you used to stream your games back in the day? And the pink hair?"

"Oh yeah." Sehun chuckles while I notice Chanyeol perk up out of the corner of my eye. "I had a setup similar to this back at home." He stuffs his hands in his pockets, taking another look around. "Less impressive though," He mutters, crinkling his nose.

Chanyeol quickly walks over. "Number one victory royale?" He asks, eyes wide. "King of the south-bound?"

"Moisty mire extraordinaire...?" Sehun inquires, eyes widening as well.

Chanyeol stares him down for a long, hard minute, and then raises his hand. "Truce?"

Sehun smirks, gripping Chanyeol's hand firmly in his. "Truce."

I blink, more than confused. Baekhyun catches my eye and just winks.

Originally posted by exo-stentialism

I'm having a huge dilemma—no, a midlife crisis. All hell is about to break loose and I'll be in the center of it.

Baekhyun asked me out on a date—I know, I know, listen!

He asked me out on a date… with barely any hints on what to wear.

He didn't say, "wear whatever you want," when I called him earlier. He told me to, "wear something nice."

Nice?! Nice. That's all I got while he remained tight-lipped about his own outfit. At least give me a color, man!!!

So, here I am, swiping clothes left and right in my closet like a madwoman until my eyes land on the perfect dress. One of sheer beauty and elegance.

A white, off the shoulder, hollowed out strapless mini dress with floral patterns from start to finish. The sleeves are made completely out of lace, the ends resting beautifully on the back of my hand. I smile at my reflection in the mirror, keeping my makeup light, only focused on enhancing my features. My phone buzzes just as I recap my eyeliner.

Your chariot awaits.

Giggling, I quickly type up a reply, tucking my phone into my clutch while wondering what this 'chariot' could be. Baekhyun sure does fancy using these cheesy words lately it seems.

Strutting down to the parking lot as gracefully as this dress will allow, I feel thankful for the warm summer night air. Bugs and I, when I'm wearing a dress like this, I need all the warmth I can get.

A blue jeep pulls up and honks at me, confusing me for a second because it isn't Baekhyun's Audi until they roll the passenger window down, revealing Jongdae's ever-bored face.

I blink a few times. "...What kind of low budget uber is this?"

"Yah!" Chanyeol loudly protests, barely overpowering Jongdae's rambunctious laughter. He glares at the brunet clutching his stomach.

"Hop in, Cinderella." Jongdae chuckles as the car doors unlock.

I carefully climb into the back seat, readjusting the hem of my dress.

"Someone got all dolled up tonight." Jongdae grins, shooting a teasing look back at me.

"Ubers don't talk much, Dae." I point out, watching the city lights fly by while Chanyeol pulls off and navigates us down barely familiar roadways. "Where are we going?"

Chanyeol meets my eye in the rearview mirror. "Where do you think?"

"If I didn't have your mother's number on my speed dial I'd call the police, Park," I grumble, resting my elbow on the car door and my chin in my palm. Jongdae's laughter quirks a smile on my lips while Chanyeol continues driving with furrowed brows and a grumpy frown on his face.

After a while of speeding cars and the radio quietly playing, a certain blue building catches my eye. "Where are we?" I perk up, my eyes widening at a sign in the distance. "Is this...?"

"UN Village," Jongdae supplies.

"Step on the gas, Yeol."

"I-I'm not sure you want to do that, Riley." Jongdae tries to diffuse the situation, his weary features flickering over to the competitive expression forming on Chanyeol's face. "You could get motion sickness and-"

"I thought you were the fastest on the road, Yeol," I fake pout, subtly making sure my seatbelt is secure. "I guess I was wrong."

"Oh yeah?" The tall oaf counters, bursting for a challenge at this point.

"Riley," Jongdae tries again when Chanyeol sits up straighter, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. "Don't-"

I curl my lips up into a shameless, cheshire cat grin. "Betcha."

My back thuds against the seat when he accelerates. Chanyeol weaves in and out between other vehicles on the road like no one's business. Thankfully the traffic is light tonight and we are taking a lot of unpopular backroads. Heaven knows what would happen if he did this in the heart of Seoul.

Jongdae holds onto the passenger car door and the back of Chanyeol's seat for dear life, the reflection of him in the mirror looking a little green against the bright city lights. By the time Chanyeol slows to a stop, he's leaning his arm across the dashboard, tucking his head between his knees.

"Never," He croaks out, gasping for air. "Again."

Chanyeol's triumphant smirk has me holding back a giggle. I direct my eyes out the window to avoid Jongdae's disgruntled glare.

"Ha! You call that fast?" I grin, hopping out of the car on wobbly legs. "My Grandma can drive better than that."

"Riley," Jongdae pipes up weakly, holding his stomach while Chanyeol's nostrils flare, big brown eyes ablazed. "Don't encourage him, he isn't your ride home."

I begin to rebuke, but pause, noticing an odd building in the distance. "What the…" It's a giant white structure with a curved entrance, another one of those intricate places that the Hannam-dong architects must have loved to build here. "What kind of building is that?"

"Keep walking," Chanyeol nods, gesturing to the long walkway between the tall walls. "You'll see."

Butterflies erupt in my stomach, making me nervous for a moment, but the good gut feeling I get from looking between both their expressive eyes encourages me to move forward. "Thanks for the ride, Yeol," I say softly, patting his jeep before taking a few steps back. Smirking mischievously over at Jongdae. "Sorry for making you lose your lunch, Dae."

He waves me off with a fake annoyed expression, not able to hide the curl of his little smile.

I spin around on my heels, walking through the entrance between the two curved walls. The clicks of my heels on the pavement is the only sound I hear. Following the uneven path, I crinkle my nose, wondering what the hell Baekhyun is up to this time. Got me out here walking down curved pathways in the dark.

Well, apparently the building curls all the way around to a see-through door in the middle, but that isn't what makes me stop in my tracks. It's that flash of familiar silver hair.

Baekhyun leans against the wall with his silver hair parted in the middle, twinkling under the bright lights. Wearing a white blazer, a white t-shirt and silver leather pants. The metal of his belt catches the light along with the rings on his fingers and accessory necklaces adorning his neck.

I snap my jaw shut, making my way over to him. "Baekhyun…"

He smiles warmly, little strands of hair dangling in his eyes in the most handsome way. "Hey."

"Hi," I whisper. "You look…" Eyeing him from head to toe—to those damn sexy heeled boots, I'm at a loss for words. "Wow."

Baekhyun chuckles, moving off of the wall to walk closer to me, taking me by the hand. "You look beautiful as well," He murmurs, kissing every knuckle on the back of my hand.

I feel my face heat up all the way up to my ears. I've only been out here with him for 5 minutes and I'm already about to faint from the softness blooming in my frantic heart. "What are we doing tonight?" I ask softly, not sure if I want to keep gazing into his sparkly brown eyes or look away from the butterfly-inducing adoration written all over his face.

"It's a surprise," Baekhyun supplies, chuckling at the impatient expression on my face. He brings my hand to his cheek, staring deeply into my eyes. "Walk with me?"

My heart goes into overdrive. With that look on your face? I couldn't deny you if I tried.

I nod and let him take the lead, resting my head on his shoulder. There's something about being with him at night like this. Something unexplainable and magical in the air. The soft fabric of his blazer brushing against my cheek and the light July wind blowing through his hair. He's so warm and smells so good I have to bite my tongue not to drag him back to my apartment just to curl up next to him on the couch.

Something tells me that tonight will be a special one, but really, if it's with Baekhyun, anywhere and everywhere, I'll love it either way.

I notice something out of the corner of my eye when we step out onto a sidewalk, briefly lifting my head from Baekhyun's shoulder. "Dokseodang Children's Park?" I mumble curiously.

Baekhyun hums. "This is my favorite place." His eyes sweep over the slightly aged equipment, resting a hand on my back.

Humming myself, I start to reply only for my eyes to dart over at the dirt road ahead.

Baekhyun immediately takes notice, coming to a stop at the edge of the sidewalk. "What is it, hmm?"

I look up at the annoyingly buzzing light pole. "That flickering light-"

Baekhyun snaps his fingers, and the whole world goes black for a moment, then a dozen lights twinkle in the darkness. Fireflies lighting up the night under the shine of the full moon.

"Come on." His honey-smooth voice rings, softly squeezing my hand before leading the way. I rest my other hand on his arm and watch my every step, realizing we are climbing a hill with the deep slope brushing against the front of my heels. Grass crunches under our footsteps, crickets sing their late night songs of cheer, and then I see a peek of something bright as we near the top of the hill. I gasp, nearly tripping in my haste to get a closer look, my heartbeat skyrocketing when we reach the edge of the steep hill.

A stunning table seated for two sits in the middle of the plateau, with a cooler holding an unopened bottle of champagne. Dome-covered plates are set on the white table cloth and a few candles are lit on the table. Vanilla fragrance flutters in the gentle wind as I take in the dozens of lanterns hung up in the tree above. Brightening up the area surrounded by miles upon miles of other rolling hills without outshining the moon. I even spot the UN Village sign at the other side of the park; you can see everything from up here.

"Baekhyun…"

He smiles so brightly when I look at him. "Yes, my love?"

You mesmerizing little hopeless romantic. I can only press a kiss to his soft cheek, hugging him.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes," I mumble into the safety of his shoulder.

He rests his head on mine, hugging me to his chest. "Then why are you hiding, hmm?"

"I love it so much," I mutter, fully content to stay here for a few more minutes. "It's so pretty I have tears in my eyes. I can't believe you."

Baekhyun chuckles, rubbing my back so soothingly it takes all my strength to not melt further against him. The heavenly scent of vanilla once again meets my nose; we have a date waiting for us.

Slowly pulling away, I look into his sparkly brown eyes, smiling shyly before making my way over to the table. He's a step ahead of me in an instant, pulling out a chair for me while I giggle, hiding my adoring smile and red face behind my hand. God, my heart is racing so hard I swear it's threatening to jump out and run to him.

I give him a grateful smile, my skin buzzing under the familiarity of his gentle touch when he pushes me in, his citrus and cinnamon scent perfectly blending with the vanilla while he walks to take his own seat across from me.

Baekhyun sighs softly, tilting his head with a nearly playful smile. "Ready?"

Grinning a little, I tilt my head to the opposite side, relishing in the twinkles of amusement sparkling in his eyes. "Ready as I'll ever be."

He chuckles. "On three?"

I nod, gripping the handle on the top of the dome cover with another smile.

"One," He leans closer to his dome, mischief swirling in his brown eyes. "Two."

More than amused, I play along, butterflies fluttering in my stomach under his beaming smile.

"Three!"

I lift up the dome, setting it aside while taking in the food neatly arranged on the plate. It's a Korean cuisine that I haven't seen before, full of delectable vegetables and tender meat. Watching Baekhyun take his first bite has my mouth watering for two reasons. I carefully cut a slice of beef, closing my eyes when it melts on my tongue. Holy shit, who is the chef behind this? That person needs a raise.

"Kyungsoo made it," Baekhyun smiles, chuckling when I hum at my next bite. "I have to help him out next week though," He frowns, nearly pouting. "He doesn't like doing things last minute."

Recalling the whole ordeal for Jenny's birthday, I can't help but laugh. "I know," I smile, resting my chin in my palm.

Baekhyun smiles, his nose scrunching adorable while cutting another piece of meat.

Conversation flows naturally between us, as always. Baekhyun is just like that, an easy person to talk to, but it's much different than before. He hums a lot, resting his chin on his palm while gazing at me with adoring and attentive eyes, the tiniest of loving smiles on his face. If I wasn't wearing this expensive white dress, I'd lean over the table and kiss the hell out of him.

However, the mood changes slightly when we are nearly done. He keeps tapping his fingers on the table and his foot against the leg of his chair, clearing his throat with a worried expression on his face.

"Bae?" I call softly, tilting my head at his lack of response. Tired of the constant clink of his leather boot against the wooden chair, I nudge my foot against his. "Are you alright?"

He blinks, sitting up straight at once. "Yes, love." He clears his throat again, smiling shyly. "Wanna dance with me?"

"Dance?" I look around at the grassy nature and chirping wildlife, meeting his eyes again. "There isn't any music here, B."

He shakes his head, standing up. "Yes there is."

"I-" I go quiet when he takes my hand, resting it over his beating heart. Looking up into his imploring brown eyes, I start to understand. I nod, slowly standing up as well, following him over to the empty side of the hill.

Baekhyun lifts up our joined hands, interlocking our fingers together and resting his other one on the small of my back. I rest my free hand on his shoulder, gazing deeply into his brown pools of warmth. He makes the first move, slowly stepping forward while I take a step back. The crickets chirp louder with every movement we make, growing more confident by the minute.

Melting at the way his heart beats against mine, I look up at the stars, millions and billions of twinkling lights filling up the night sky. Meeting Baekhyun's gaze again, however, reminds me that not all the stars and planets combined can outshine the sparkling light in his warm brown eyes. He smiles softly as if hearing my thoughts, squeezing my hand before spinning me around, welcoming me right back into his loving arms.

I could spend forever like this, staring into his eyes and listening to his beating heart. Just the two of us while the rest of the world fades away, nothing but background noise to our undying love.

"Look," Baekhyun perks up, looking up at the stars. My eyes flicker up, widening at the shooting star streaking across the night sky. "Make a wish," He murmurs warmly, taking a step back.

Feeling a sense of hope and childlike urgency, I whip around to face the star head on. What should I wish for? The star is reaching the edge of the sky! Sensing Baekhyun's comforting figure behind me, I have all the answers I need.

I wish… Closing my eyes, I clasp my hands together, finding strength in the soft summer breeze. For a love like this, for all of eternity. The last few streaks of the star fade away when I open my eyes, smiling softly until I remember where I am and a certain someone who is with me. Where is Baekhyun? Stiffening up, I quickly spin around in alarm, slapping my hands over my mouth at the sight.

Baekhyun: on one knee, holding up a small jewelry box with shaky hands and vulnerable. "Why do you look so scared?" He breaks the ice, chuckling nervously.

"I thought you left," I blurt, snapping my mouth shut.

He laughs fully this time. "No." He shakes his head, smiling up at me with the sweetest of smiles. "I'm right here."

I take a deep breath, nodding slowly.

"I love you," He declares warmly, keeping his eyes steady on mine. "I love the way my name falls from your lips, the soft swell of your hips, the love in your fingertips." He smiles. "How your doe eyes go wide when you're surprised. The way you curl up next to me in your sleep when I'm working at night." A little grin forms on his face. "The shy expression you get when you ask if I want the rest of your food and that little song you always sing nonstop around the house when you're happy."

I cover my face in embarrassment, peeking at him from between my fingers.

Baekhyun chuckles, continuing, "I love the little notes you leave when you make me lunch. The way you squeak when I kiss right here." He taps the back of his right ear. "Your beautiful mind and all the mischief that comes with it..." He laughs a little. "The way you nag me when I don't dry my hair and yet always end up doing it for me anyway."

"Your sarcasm and loving touch," He murmurs, sparkles dancing bright in his eyes. "The dimples you try to hide when you smile." He cracks another grin. "Your quirky mismatched socks and way of talking." He laughs warmly when I groan, rethinking all my life choices. "How red your face gets when I compliment you." He hums. "Your loud, high pitched, raspy laugh that I know you hate but I simply adore."

"Oh my god," I cover my eyes, knowing how right he is and how hot my face feels right now.

"How sexy your accent is and how sassy you get when you're angry," He murmurs humorously, giving me a knowing look. "That high horse you climb on when you don't want to admit you are wrong that leaves me frustrated and amused at the same time." He chuckles, sighing softly, his voice taking on a gentler tone. "The look on your face when you cry that makes me want to hold you and hide you away from the world."

My heart squeezes as tears spring to my eyes. I sniffle softly, fanning my face while meeting his loving eyes.

"I love everything about you." He takes a shaky breath. "Not a day goes by where I'm not grateful for you coming into my life."

He looks down for a moment, blinking rapidly before flicking his hair out of his eyes. "I know I'm not much," He mumbles. "I-I know I've done so much shit in the past that you have every right to walk out on me for. I know that you deserve way better than me." He swallows thickly, lips trembling before he presses them into a thin line. "Even with all of this, I have some promises I want to make."

Baekhyun raises his head, reaching to take my hand in his. "I promise not to run away. I promise to communicate. I promise to stay by your side through every blessing and hardship you go through." My heart pounds at the determination in his words and sincerity in his shimmering eyes. "I may not be the perfect man for you." A hint of remorse sparks briefly in his brown eyes. "But I promise to love you with all that I have—with all that I am," He pauses, holding my hand securely in his. "Until my last dying breath… If I break any of these promises you have permission to kick me where the sun doesn't shine." He mumbles in a jokingly grumpy tone, smiling when I giggle.

"I promise to love you until the end of time." His voice starts to wobble, hands shaking while looking deep into my eyes. "Please," He opens the box, revealing a sparkly, rose gold ring with matching gems lining the sides. "Marry me, and be mine."

"Yes." I choke out, tears streaming down my face when I bend down to cup his tear-streaked cheeks in my hands. "Yes. Yes! A million times yes."

Baekhyun stands up, slipping the ring onto my ring finger with uttermost care. As soon as he's done, he pulls me close, sealing my lips in a searing kiss that I gladly let take my breath away.

Originally posted by exo-stentialism

"Unzip me?" I ask, peeking up at him from under my eyelashes.

Baekhyun hums and I spin around, chills going down my spine when his hands gently brush my hair out of the way, warm fingertips brushing over my cool skin. The instant relief of being free from the snug material has nothing on his quiet gasp as he slowly drags the zipper down. He steps back while I shrug off the dress, leaving it to pool at my feet before turning to face him.

His hair color looks out worldly under the favor of the moonlight; shining strands of silver and dark grey swaying with the summer breeze. The way the light reflects off his chains casts him in an eternal glow as he looks at me with those warm, brown eyes. The hints of adoration and need in those captivating orbs break me from my trance.

I take more steps until I'm standing in front of him, pushing his blazer off his shoulders and tilting my head to meet his awestruck gaze, my tone soft and warm, "Baekhyun."

He gulps, letting it fall to the floor while I rest my hand on his chest, placing the other on the back of his neck. The fast beating of his heart under my palm makes me smile before my lips press to his, savoring the taste of champagne on his tongue. I tighten my hold on him when he wraps his arms around my waist, backing me up to the bed.

I sit perched on the edge of the mattress, looking up at him when he pulls off his t-shirt, exposing lean muscle and honey-toned skin to my hungry eyes. I can't help rubbing down his chest and gazing at him from head to toe, smiling at the tint of pink to his cheeks. His leather pants join the scattered pile on the floor before he joins me on the bed, his gentle hands pulling off the rest of our clothes.

"You sure are being bashful tonight," I murmur, lightly tangling my fingers in his hair, relishing in how his warm body presses mine to the cool sheets.

Baekhyun smiles, pressing a chaste kiss to my collarbone. "Let's take things slow tonight." He meets my wide eyes with his adoring ones, pulling the covers over our bodies when I give a timid nod.

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

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Cry with me

A/N:

HA! Y'all thought I was going to break these two up forever. I still had the Un Village scene left!!! >:'D A lot has happened in this long asf Finale and you know, on one hand (me being me) I'm never satisfied with it, HOWEVER those last two scenes? Yeah, that's the best for me. :')

Okay I NEED TO RANT for 2 minutes. *inhale*

I have never, ever EVER had such a hard time writing a character. My perfectionism really popped out in Jackson's scenes, I swear. I tried writing about this man and it just didn't feel right because I don't know him as well. I legit spent almost a week watching Youtube videos, GOT7 music videos, JACKSON SOLO VIDEOS and fell down a rabbit hole of smut (typical smfh) just to figure out how to present him properly! I know writing is all about how you present your character and how you can make them different than the person you base them off of but holy f*ck I wanted him accurate and that accuracy kicked me in my nonexistent balls… so that up there was the final result *deep exhale*

After all of this I can safely say that Jackson is one of my favorite soloists and member of GOT7 bye-

-THE ACTUAL END NOTE WITHOUT THE RAMBLING-

We've finally made it, loves. Six Phases is completed. It's been 2 long years of writing this story. 2 years full of laughter, smiles, dance breaks, hardships and tears.

I'm writing this end note before I even finish the story that you've read above. I'm writing this little note while on hiatus. I'm writing this while in the process of working on this story so I can heal - because that is the very reason this story was created. For healing. For growth.

The Baekhyun character you all know, see, hate and love? His expressions of love are heavily influenced by IRL Jenny; my girlfriend; my heart. My coauthor; my other half.

Without her, I wouldn't know genuine happiness, vulnerability, or to know that someone can love you unconditionally. Flaws and all. Without her, I would have stopped at chapter 4 and disappeared from the writing world forever. She taught me that it is okay to be open, my loud annoying rambling self and that I deserve to follow my dreams. She has stopped me from deleting this story a hundred times. She is the reason why I opened my heart time and time again to truly let these characters' voices be heard. Their flaws and all.

Every character is a part of me, but Baekhyun and Jenny are inspired by her. I can't express how grateful I am to her without crying on you; I've cried enough happy tears while finishing this lmao SO just know that she has helped me a lot with completing this story, and for what I will write in the future.

Before I end this note that has gone on for too long already, I want to express my gratitude and love to everyone who has helped me continue and finish this story. Please don't feel bad if I don't mention you directly, I have warmth in my heart for everyone who has read Six Phases. You being here means the world to me.

Loving Mentions

Miss Kay - you seriously don't know how much you have restored my love for this story. I'll never forget the first time you reblogged SP on tumblr and your comment still brings tears to my eyes. I always thought this story was garbage and seeing how much you enjoyed reading it encouraged me to pick up where I left off. Thank you for everything <3 I can't thank you enough.

Miss Jamie - I always love reading your comments and the theories you had with each new chapter of the story. I'll never forget that Minute Man joke, I swear. I'm still laughing over it. Not to be giddy but I always look forward to your comments ^^ Thank you for always sharing your thoughts about the story with me <3

Sherlock Holmes Anon - dear, you and your THEORIES!!! I adore them all. I love all the knowledge you've brought to the table about the meaning of the colors in this story and its universe. You are amazing and everything you are studying is paying off!!! Wishing you all the best in your studies ^^ show those exams who's boss, they got nothing on you and your lovely brain <333333

My aff loves

Beau1996, alexajjang, byundipyun,

queeniexoxo, byunsugar, Taqdees,

juntar, Vish15, baeknhyu,

Baekie_18, Endzii22, ohyeahbb, Shawolgurl, bbhmystar.

- thank you for all of your lovely comments. Your words made me the happiest in the world. Every time I used to get those instant aff notifs on my phone, I'd run across my house to read them, ahhh~~~ I always love hearing from you <33333

My tumblr lovelies - thank you sooo much for all the love and interactions you've given to my story T-T I'm not tearing up, it's the cake batter in my eyes. You guys are amazing.

My beloved anon readers, tumblr and aff commenters - I'm sending you so many freaking hugs and tissues for the angst you've been exposed to XD hearing the hot tea and ideas you had for this story was such a joy. Thank you <3

I've spent hours a day replying back to you all, no joke. Every comment is precious to me and I always want to give back what you all have given me <333 I hope this story's ending was a happy one for you, I've had it planned since fall 2020 and I'm so happy to finally be able to share it with all of you.

Thank you, for interacting, commenting, subscribing, and upvoting. I appreciate all the love you've given this baby (haha) fic of mine more than you can ever imagine. This story is dedicated to all of you <3

-and oh, don't worry. This isn't the end of Baekhyun & Riley's story, this is only the beginning. <3

Thank you, can't wait to see you soon 0:) <3

~Love a million times over, Nisa

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#baekhyun smut #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun romance #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun angst #The End #Six Phases

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