#the answer might be a cardigan but I am hoping for a different answer

[reluctanthurricane]

Sequins are the worst form of glitter.

#I love glitter but sequins can fucking die #I bought a very cute ... gown on sale for like $20 and it has a sequin bodice and my arms are angry and my hand is angry #my dress drew blood! #I need to figure out how to wear the dress without it cutting into an artery in my arm and then I bleed out in the name of princess fashion #the answer might be a cardigan but I am hoping for a different answer

[thelazybard]

Instead I Pour the Milk. [Alejandro Vargas x fem!Reader] Chapter 4: Guillermo

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ao3 saw it first at https://archiveofourown.org/works/42983298/chapters/108215241

The next morning was a bit chillier than the previous few. That's when you knew the seasons were beginning to change and summer was decelerating into autumn. It was only a matter of time until the leaves on the deciduous trees up in the mountains began to burn into shades of brown, crimson and amber. That was a sight you had yet to see in Las Almas, and you hoped to find the time to camp up there when it finally did happen. You dressed a little warmer than yesterday in a maxi skirt, tank top and a cardigan that you could remove when it inevitably heated up in the afternoon.

You'd been so used to not getting anyone in the shop until at least late morning that you were shocked to see a line of people waiting outside the shop that following Monday. Five people were waiting patiently. When you cut the lights on and unlocked the door they found seats at the counter and looked around.

They were all dressed in various attires. Business casual, nurse scrubs, construction vests. Then there was the elder man you assumed to be retired as he was wearing simple clothes and didn't seem to be in a rush like the others who all asked for very specific specific beverages.

It was now time to truly test yourself in how fast you can get out orders to people. David was upstairs getting ready for his own job, so it was up to you to make sure these folk could have their coffee and be on time for work. The elder man on the other hand was content with you pouring him regular coffee from the pot with a side of cream every once in a while.

"So, what brings you all in today?" You felt the need to ask once nearly everyone was served their orders.

"We heard Abuelita talking about this place." One of the construction workers answered.

Abuelita. Bless her.

"Yeah, her and her friends came in yesterday for brunch. Sweet ladies." You said with a smile.

"How long have you been here again?" The nurse asked.

"Almost a month." You answered.

He nodded. "Yeah, that sounds about right. I remember seeing you on the street when you and your husband first moved in."

... Well, shit.

You thought you cleared that up! The other old ladies you didn't speak to about it must have said something.

You shook your head as you set his latte in front of him. "Oh, David's not my husband. He's my cousin."

"Well that's not what my sister said." The elder man commented. The others nodded.

Great. Just how many people thought this? It seemed to have spread like wildfire if five people from all different walks of life came into your store with the same exact idea. Now if it could extinguish just as fast that would be great. The very notion that everyone thought your cousin was your husband was making you nauseous.

"I think there was a mix-up yesterday. " You explained.

"So you're not married?" The nurse asked.

"I can't say that I am."

He looked you up and down. "Interesting."

The two construction workers, nurse and business woman left after their coffee, leaving you with the old man. He seemed like a kind, old soul. He had a set of wise hazel eyes behind a pair of thick lensed glasses, and there was still some semblance of black amongst the gray in his hair and beard.

"What's your name, Señor?"

"Carlos. And yours?"

You told him and he shook your hand. His hands were calloused from years of hard work but his grip was gentle.

"So which Señora was your sister?" You asked.

"That would be Rosa. Tall, skinny, a bit rude..." He described.

The image of her immediately came to mind. "Does she um... Have a green hat?" You asked carefully.

"Only the one she wears every single day." He joked.

You nodded with an uneasy grin. "Then yes, I met her yesterday."

"I know, she talked about you. Said you were sweet and that it was a relief that you were married."

"A relief?" You echoed.

"Mhm. She's been trying to get my niece and that Alejandro together since they were little, and thought the new girl might ruin her plan."

This is now the third time Alejandro's desirability has been brought up in conversation.

Your brows furrowed in confusion. "Why– How could I ruin that plan?" You asked.

"Because he's seemed to have taken a liking to you. Word gets around here fast, you know. Elena hasn't been the only one to gush about your shop."

So Elena was Abuelita's name.

"So... because Alejandro likes my coffee, everyone thinks he's going to try to get with me instead of their daughters?"

"Pretty much." He laughed.

Had Alejandro been that sought after in the community that you coming around posed a threat? Why you in the first place? Not that you weren't gorgeous. Anyone could see that the moment you hopped out of your moving van. But you hadn't interacted with Alejandro enough times to justify in your head that he'd want to pursue you so soon after meeting you.

Carlos sighed happily, clearly somehow enjoying his sister's misfortune. "Rosa's not gonna be happy to know that you're single. Or Roberta."

"R-Roberta?" You stammered.

"My niece, her daughter. Roberta and Alejandro have known each other their whole lives, and that girl's been set on marrying him since they were little."

Okay, now marriage was in question. This was making your head spin; it seemed like all talk concerning you and Alejandro did that. You felt like you were being found guilty for a crime you didn't get the chance to commit. Sure Alejandro was attractive and kind and apparently well-loved by the community, but you didn't even get to learn his name from him. You didn't want to make enemies over some guy you barely knew.

"Well, tell them they have nothing to worry about." You said.

"I won't lie to them, mi hija." He said.

Whatever that means, you thought.

He had a muffin to go with his last cup of coffee before he paid and left. He tipped rather nicely, everyone seemed to. That was something you could certainly get used to around here.

People periodically came in that day, much to your absolute pleasure. All with similar reasons as to why. Because Abuelita or Alejandro said to. It was weird that Alejandro seemed to like your coffee shop so much yet has only been to it once, and didn't even buy a stupid concha. You found it odd, but chalked it up to him being a busy soldier. He did come in on a Saturday, maybe that was his only free day.

There was a pause of customers in the early afternoon long enough that allowed you to take out the garbage accumulated throughout the morning rush. You went through the backdoor located in the kitchen to your trashcans and lifted one of the lids. Before you knew it, a flash of black and brown jumped out of your can and scurried around the corner.

"Ack!" you screamed, dropping the garbage bag and running back into the store.

What was that? A raccoon? A freakishly giant rat? You didn't get a good look before you both ran from each other.

"Ay, the garbage." You groaned, realizing you still had to put the bag in the can. Equipping yourself with a broom for self defense, you stepped back outside and finally tossed the trash. But now with your weapon in hand, you felt some semblance of bravery to peak behind the corner of your home and see what it was. If it was even still there.

Slowly, you walked over and peaked around the wall.

It was a fat cat!

A big brown tabby was staring at you from underneath one of your empty pallets David had leaned against the back wall. His yellow eyes watched you carefully as he began to back further under the pallet.

You suppressed a gasp. "Here, kitty. Pspspsps." You beckoned. He didn't move an inch.

"I'm sorry if I scared you." You slowly move closer but the kitty took off. You cocked your head to the side in confusion then looked at the broom in your hand.

"Ah, I'd be scared of me too." You said aloud. You went back into the kitchen and came out with a can of tuna and a dish of cream. After setting it down by the door, you returned to the storefront just in time to greet another customer.

Throughout the day your mind was focused on the tabby you'd named Guillermo in your head. You hoped he was safe, that he had a home to go back to. But you also wondered how he managed to get inside your trashcan with the lid on. You periodically peaked outside to see if he had eaten the tuna or cream, silently celebrating when you saw a significant amount of tuna gone from the can that night after you closed up shop.

Monday was a fantastic day for profit, and you assumed it could only get better from here since word travels so fast. You prepared for the inevitable influx of customers by spending the last few hours of the evening before you went to sleep making dough for several batches of cinnamon rolls.

The next morning you went out to see if you could find any sign of Guillermo. To your surprise, he was waiting by the back door, meowing loudly when he locked eyes with you. He was hungry. You opened another can of tuna for him and this time gave him some fresh water instead of cream. He was happily eating when you closed the door and preheated the oven for your cinnamon rolls.

"Damn, who closed last night?" You asked jokingly to yourself as you cleaned up numerous spots on the counter you missed when cleaning the night before.

David walked into the kitchen groggily and rubbed his eyes. "Hey, do you think the cinnamon rolls will be done before I have to go to work?" He asked

You glanced at the clock that read 5:47. "Why are you up so early? You don't have to leave until 8:30 right?"

"I couldn't sleep. I think our neighbor behind us cheated on his girlfriend so I was listening to the drama outside my window. She was maaaad."

You laughed. "You're messy."

"You're messy." He shot back, pointing at you.

You looked down at the flour on your favorite shirt. "Puta madre." You cursed.

"Whoa, language woman."

"Oh hush, I don't open for another hour. Now if you want a cinnamon roll before work you oughta wash your hands and start making the filling."

"You sound so much like your dad."

"Don't remind me." You said with an eyeroll.

With David's help you were able to finish a batch of rolls just before you opened up shop. He ate at the counter while you started on a pot of your breakfast roast.

"So I take it business was good yesterday." He started.

You sighed contentedly. "It was, all things considered. I think the town is starting to warm up to me."

"About damn time, the mortgage is coming up soon." He said before sipping his coffee.

"I think on my break I'm going to go to the market. Anything you want while I'm there?"

"Mangoes."

"Done."

Around noon you locked up shop and made your way to the market with a tote bag on your shoulder. You were thankful David didn't ask why you were going to the market. David doesn't like cats, and you wanted to get cat food for Guillermo in hopes that he'd want to stay for good and let you adopt him.

You picked out a few mangoes, and was in the middle of smelling the rind of one when someone tapped your shoulder. Turning to your right you saw a woman a tad older than you. Her eyes and hair were black as night and she had the cutest button nose you thought.

"Are you the owner of the coffee shop?" She asked.

You nodded. "I am, why?"

She smiled. "You walked past me and you smell like coffee beans."

You'd been around coffee for so long you hardly noticed the smell anymore, but you reckoned there were worse things to smell like.

"Besides, everyone has been talking about you." She added.

"Don't I know it." You joked, "What's your name?"

"Nanami. I was the new girl once upon a time."

You introduced yourself after her. "What brought you to Las Almas?" You wondered.

"My wife. We initially met in California on Spring Break some years ago. We did long distance for as long as we could but I couldn't stand being away from her."

Your heart felt warm from the sheer romantics. "That's so sweet, I'm happy for you both!"

"Thanks. What about you? What brings you to the City of Souls?"

"Oh, I found myself unable to forget this place after visiting a few times. I just had to move here."

"It certainly has a pull, doesn't it?"

"Absolutely."

The two of you talked for a good thirty minutes there in the market, and it was pleasant conversation to say the least. Nanami had to go eventually, but she gave you her number. "Don't be a stranger. I'd love to get to know you." She beamed.

You mirrored her expression. "The feeling is mutual. Come stop by the shop when you have time, yeah? You and your wife, first drink is on me."

"That's awfully sweet of you, but what's the saying? Support local business?"

You giggled. "If you insist."

Guillermo was waiting by the backdoor when you got home. But this time, when you opened the door he dashed in.

"Guillermo!" You shouted, chasing after him after locking the door. He dashed through the kitchen all the way around the bar to get under your green couch in the lounge area.

Okay, he was only in the kitchen for like ten seconds. That's not a health code violation... right?

You got low to the floor and talked to him through the gap under the couch.  "Guillermo, you can't stay here yet! I don't even have a litterbox!" You groaned.

He wasn't budging.

You growled and began walking away. "Fine. After work, I'll get you a litterbox. And maybe some toys. But if you shit in my store I'm kicking you right back out. Fair warning!" You shouted over your shoulder.

You would have preferred Guillermo shit under the couch over what he actually did.

Next Chapter

#alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x oc #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro x fem!reader #mw2 #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare #cod

[the---hermit]

Omg!! Just found out that you journal as well as crochet, please share things you've crocheted and like do you plan them like all those patterns and whatever. Please share your crocheting pics

Hello!🌿 I am actually very new to this hobby, I started crocheting about a month ago, more or less. At first I mostly did random stuff with no purpose to get the hang of it (which was very useful) and out of those I actually got a couple of coasters. It wasn't intended but I made a circular pattern that fit perfectly a mug for which I did not own a coaster so that was lucky.

After that I did a couple of scarves one for my mom and one for my brother, of which you can find some pictures on my daily posts if you go back in what I posted in September. For those I did not have a pattern I just did a simple chain and went from there, and looking back I should have done them both a little less wide to be honest. The one I did for my mom is more basic with just one colour of yarn and then it's a single crochet all the way. Whereas the scarf I did for my brother was the first project I did using two different colours and I alternated single and double crochet depending on which yarn I was using.

The project I am working on at the moment is the most complicated one, but it's turning out better than expected. It was supposed to be a cardigan but then I realized that it would look better as a sweater so I ended up closing the front panel, and I am very happy with that choice. I took inspiration from a couple of videos I have seen online, but I ended up changing things around. What I did with this was creating 50 squares (all double crochet) half with a green yarn and half with a grey one (cause those were the prettiest colours in my local store, and tbh they fit very well the colours I normally wear). After doing all of those squares I put them together in two 3×3 panels for the sleeves, and two 4×4 panels for the front and back (in the original project, since it was a cardingan the idea was to have two front panels of 2×4 squares each). After having the base panels I connected the shoulder pieces in the front and back to see how much space I had to leave for the neck, and then I sewn the top part of the sleeves so that I could measure how long I wanted the cuffs to be. Then I did the cuffs the same way I did the sort of high neck, which I had totally improvised but turned out nicely. The last thing I did was to close up the sides, and now I have to go buy more yarn to do the bottom hem and I'll be done.

I will be honest with you, you can tell it's the first big project I did cause it's not as clean as it could have been, but I am incredibly proud of how it's turning out. I have always dreamed of being able to create my own clothes but I also thought that was impossible, and now apparently I can and I really enjoy the process as well. Of course I'll post pictures for the sweater once it's done! And I cannot wait to plan and start with a new project. I might document a bit more my process with the next project I do, if you think that could be interesting? I did a general plan in my bullet journal for this sweater so I guess I could start from there and then make more in depth updates on what I am doing! (Let me know if you think that could be a good idea, and if you are interested in the bulley journal spread I did for the sweater although it is quite messy)

I hope this was the kind of answer you were looking for, if not my inbox is always open🌿 have a lovely day!!

#crocheting #crochet #crochet projects #cris speaks #ask #asked #asks #answered #mine #the---hermit

[cowboylikedean]

Hi, sorry if this is a bit random. I’m a plus size girl looking to buy some Taylor merch. But I’m looking at her store and the sizing guide for the shirts and stuff seems to be very small. Admittedly, I’m Australian so it might be different in the US but based on the sizing guide, 28 in around the chest for a 2xl seems very small. But it says the shirts and stuff are meant to be oversized. I guess I’m just wondering in your experience is the sizing accurate? Or have you had any issues with merch or has it been fine? Appreciate you helping if you can ❤️

Hi anon!!! I was waiting to answer you until I got my cardigan, which came today.

I am going to give you my experience by style... Since UMG took over merch, I have gotten 1 long sleeve unisex shirt, 3 Women's style tshirts, 1 Women's style cropped tshirt, 1 short sleeve unisex shirt, and a cardigan. I am a US size 30, though at the beginning of this journey in 2019, I was a US size 28, I went up a size. I usually wear 4-5x in US clothes.

Long sleeve unisex shirt: This was the Lover "You can't spell AWESOME without ME" shirt and it felt really true to size. It was a little not right for me in the way all unisex stuff is not right for me because my hips are big, but it felt true to size. I got it in a 3x, which is the largest size stocked and it felt like a 3x, which at the time was great for my shoulders (which are narrow) and tight on my hips.

Short sleeve unisex shirt: This is the Fearless TV album cover shirt. I got it in a 4x and it is OVERSIZED!!!!!!!!!! Very oversized. I cannot wear it, oversized. I hate oversized things in my shoulders, it's a style everyone but me loves, but I, personally, cannot stand the feeling of extra fabric by my head it's like I'm suffocating. I also don't like anything that restricts the full movement of my shoulder, which means that any seams that don't sit on top of my shoulder, and instead sit on my upper arm are BAD NEWS. This shirt is so oversized that although I love it's look, I wore it once and had a sensory meltdown. Then I used it for my hair to plop in, which worked well. And NOW the cats have chosen it as their favorite spot to sleep, but I will use it again on my hair when I wash it.

The Lover shirt was not advertised as oversized, the Fearless one was - I think. A 3x in the Fearless still might have been too big on my shoulders for what I prefer because that's how big the 4x was. It was like I was like I was wearing a 5-6x up top. My hips fit fine, a bit snug - but unisex always is. But my god there was so much fabric up at the top. I hope you can understand the panic I had from that shirt.

The Women's Shirts: The first one was the YNTCD tattoo back Lover shirt. This one is a 3x and is stretchy enough to work, although it is too small to be super comfortable. It fits a little smaller than other comparable 3x fits me, but not by much.

The second one is the Lover tie-dye album shirt. This is also in a 3x, is less stretching than the YNCTD one, and is WAY bigger. It fits me nearly perfectly. As perfectly as a non-cropped tshirt can fit my hips.

The third one is the Midnights Capital One shirt. This is also in a 3x and is an in between. It is not as small as the YNTCD, but smaller than the Lover tie-dye. It is a perfect to size, I think.

The Women's Crop: This is the Too Soft For All Of It shirt and it fits like the YNTCD does. It's smaller than a normal 3x for me, but stretchy enough to make it work. The lack of hips make it much more tolerable to me. It just fits me more cropped than I think it's supposed to. But it's not bothersome.

The cardigan: I have the Speak Now TV cardigan in the 3/4x. It fits me fitted on the shoulders, EXACTLY the way I like, but it pulls so much on the buttons that while I can button it, it looks a little ridiculous. So I have to wear it open but it is comfy. The arms are long enough to give me that oversized cozy feeling without being oversized on my shoulders and restricting movement. it is nearly my perfect sweater. If it was a little wider so it could button, it would be my perfect sweater.

I think that 24in is if you lie it flat, rather than the actual circumference of the garment. So I would multiply by 2 to get 48, which feels more like a 2x to me. From there, use your judgement on the stretchiness of the material and what kind of fit you're going for.

#ask #Anonymous #taylor merch #plus size sizing

[sirenascales]

-> double black [part one] 18+

-> Chuuya x 1stPov!F!Reader x Dazai

-> Who knew getting fired from work could lead to this?

-> Content: SMUT, slight angst, violence, murder, swearing

A night out drinking leads to a small misunderstanding with a handsome, yet dangerous man. [Chuuya x 1stPOV!F!Reader]

3,894 words

note: edited this so it could still be read as a reader fic! it's actually a lot of fun writing in first person! hope those who read this enjoy my first bsd fic!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Final || masterlist

I've experienced a lot of amazing things since I've moved to Japan. A new job in a different country, new co-workers and friends, work parties, themed bars, cafes, and hookups with pretty strangers. There was a long list of great things I've had going on, and a long list of things I've never expected... and being fired from the job I had for a year was not one of them.

"A year of hard work... for nothing," I mumbled bitterly as I sat at the bar with my close friend, and now ex-coworker, Keiko. She was beautiful, with long black hair and brown eyes. She frowned, a sympathetic look on her pretty face as she sighed.

"I'm so sorry," she said softly, giving my shoulder a squeeze. "I'm sure you'll find something else soon! You have an awesome resume, and you're an amazing worker who can speak English, Japanese AND Spanish... there is totally a place for you out there!"

Keiko has always been supportive and enthusiastic, a really bright and friendly girl who made it her mission to befriend me as soon as I started working with her. She was relentless, and soon enough, I found myself spending many hours with the woman.

"Yeah..." I just mumbled again and she laughed softly.

"It's okay to mope... that's why I brought you here!"

"Yeah, about that," I started, sending Keiko a look as I swiveled the stool so my body faced her. "Why did you bring me here?" As soon as the work day was done, Keiko immediately dragged me to what was clearly a mafia bar. That didn't surprise me, since she was actually dating a mafioso.

A mafioso, who was part of the Port Mafia. It wasn't long after I moved to Yokohama that I started to hear stories about the organization, and was also warned not to cross them. Of course, with my luck, I became best friends with someone who dated someone who was in the Port Mafia. How a sweet girl like Keiko ended up with a man like him, I'll never know.

What I do know is that Taichi adored Keiko, gave her everything she could possibly want and need with the money he makes, and that was just being a normal grunt! Even so, it was dangerous, but Keiko didn't seem to mind.

"I come here with Taichi all the time," Keiko answered, sipping her drink. I turned to sip on my own. "You can't tell me it isn't luxurious." It was. My jaw had dropped to the floor when we first stepped into the very luxurious bar. "Don't worry about it, okay? Drink your sadness away! You're safe here. Since I am Taichi's woman, and you're with me, nothing will happen, okay?"

"Where is Taichi anyway?" I asked, glancing over her shoulder when I spotted a group of men walking in through the entrance. I missed the way the light left Keiko's eyes, chewing on her bottom lip anxiously. My eyes were on the men, which in the middle was a man with orange hair, a black hat adorning his head. I felt my breath hitch in my throat, my eyes looking at the very handsome man up and down. I swallowed thickly.

"He had a job tonight and couldn't make it. He'll be home to- hey, what are you looking at?" Annoyed at me ignoring her, she turned in her seat, a shocked look on her face before she smiled tightly.

"Taichi! I thought you had an assignment!"

"Hey, babe! We finished early, which was quite surprising, honestly."

The couple embraced and I barely registered the mushy love between the two as I watched the ginger man lead the rest of the group further into the bar. He walked by me, and before I knew it, dark blue eyes were staring right at me, eyebrows furrowed.

"The hell are you looking at?" he sneered and my face turned red, heart dropping in my chest.

"No one! I'm sorry!" I exclaimed, quickly turning back around and facing the bar.

"Tch. Whatever," the man only responded before walking off.

"You look like a cherry," Taichi said, clearly amused. I sent him a half-hearted glare, Keiko slapping his chest lightly.

"Be nice to her. She got fired today."

"Ohh, that sucks. If you need help-"

"She won't take it," Keiko said with a huff. "Stubborn ass."

I rolled my eyes at her, biting my lip nervously as I fiddled with my glass. "So uh... who was that guy? With the hat?"

Taichi blinked. "Oh, that's Chuuya Nakahara."

"Is he part of the Port Mafia?"

Taichi barked out a laugh, Keiko giggling softly behind her hand.

"Baby... he's an executive. Chuuya works closely with the leader of the Port Mafia."

"And I work under Chuuya," Taichi finished, amused at how wide my eyes have gotten at the answer.

"You mean to tell me... I pissed off... an executive member..." I was dismayed, heart pounding in my chest.

"Hmm, probably. Don't go home alone tonight," Taichi grinned as I balked, clearly having fun torturing me.

"Taichi! Babe, don't listen to him."

I gulped nervously, downing the rest of my drink before signaling to the bartender to get me another one.. "R-right..." Despite my better judgment, I turned my head, looking towards the obvious VIP section of the bar. Chuuya sat with some other grunts, a glass of what seemed to be red wine in his hand. Of course, his eyes found mines yet again and I whipped my head back around. Fuck, I did it again! I quickly downed the newly made drink, unaware of Chuuya's eyes narrowing as he watched me.

"Nooo, do you have to go?" a drunk Keiko whined as she latched onto my arm, a forever amused Taichi watching on. "Don't leave me with hiiiiiiim."

"I want to go home, dammit," I huffed, successfully peeling her off of me and handing her to her boyfriend. "I have to start job hunting tomorrow. Thank you for bringing me here, I do feel better and I love you but... I'm tired."

"Ugh, you are such an old lady!" Keiko whined again and I couldn't help but laugh, turning to start walking towards the exit.

"Goodnight, you too. Please get her home safe, Taichi."

"I wouldn't count on it~"

I rolled my eyes at his teasing, leaving the two behind as I left the bar. I stepped out into the cool night air, shivering a bit as I closed my cardigan tightly around me. I wore a simple but cute outfit; a black dress with burgundy tights underneath, black flats on my feet and my favorite tan cardigan over the entire outfit. It helped me fight off a bit of the cold, but as I started to walk down the block, I grabbed my phone to start searching through my usual rideshare app.

I didn't get far. My phone cluttered to the ground as it fell out my hands, a gasp leaving my mouth as I was slammed against the nearby brickwall of a narrow, dark alleyway.

"Who the fuck are you?" a familiar voice hissed and I'm shocked to find Chuuya Nakahara glaring daggers at me, his strong hands pinning my arms against the wall. He growled when I didn't answer. "Answer me! Who sent you here?!"

"N-No one!" I cried out, shaking like a leaf. Of course, of course I would be confronted by a fucking high level member of one of the most dangerous organizations in Japan. "I swear, I just came here with my friend."

Chuuya growled again and he flipped me around, pressing my front against the wall. "Stay still," he grunted, and my face started to heat up as I felt his gloved hands quickly feel along my body. He was frisking me, and I gulped when he shoved his hand under my dress, producing the knife I had strapped to my thigh.

"I carry that to protect myself," I immediately explained, Chuuya turning me around again to face him. His eyes were still narrowed, staring me down as if trying to figure out what the hell I was up to.

"And the bouncer didn't pat you down?" he questioned and I shook my head quickly.

"No, he didn't pat me or Keiko down."

"Tch, that's Taichi's woman," he said, though he still looked at me with narrow eyes, hesitating a bit before he turned my knife in his hand, handing it back to me hilt first. "You sure know how to make yourself look suspicious."

I cringed a bit as I strapped my knife to my thigh strap again. I missed how Chuuya's eyes lingered, him licking his lips. "That's my fault I... I know I was staring..." I could feel my face heat up again and I couldn't even look Chuuya in his face. "S-sorry if I creeped you out. I don't mean any harm. Keiko brought me here 'cause I got fired and she wanted to help me feel better..."

"Hm," was his only reply, crossing his arms over his chest. "What you do to fuck up?"

My mouth fell and I sputtered as I tried to come up with the words. "What do you mean?! I didn't fuck up!" I protested. "It literally came out of nowhere! I worked my ass off all year, only to get fired 'cause I wasn't what they needed anymore. Fucking bullshit."

Chuuya was amused by my little vent, snickering a bit as he gave me a quick look up and down. "I'm sure it wasn't your winning personality."

I scoffed. "Says the one that shoved a random woman against a wall?! That hurt, you bastard!"

Chuuya raised his eyebrows at me, and I immediately slapped my hands over my mouth.

Oh no. Fuck, I forgot who I was talking to.

Chuuya snickered again, his eyes flashing in amusement. He stepped closer to me, making me press back against the wall again. Chuuya leaned his face close to mine, a smug smirk on his face as he spoke.

"Be careful who you talk to like that," he hummed, and I shivered despite feeling some of his body heat. "Someone might just cut out your tongue for talking back like that. Me? Well, it'd be a waste, especially when I think of all the things I could make you do with it."

I squeaked, the heat never leaving my face as I stared at Chuuya with a puzzled expression on my face. The sudden switch up was giving me whiplash... and lowkey turning me on. "I..." I stuttered, looking away and finally noticing my phone still on the ground. "Crap, I hope it's not broken."

I rushed over to pick my phone up, ignoring Chuuya's hard stare on me. I looked over my phone, sighing in relief when I saw that it had sustained no damages.

Chuuya then stepped up to me, jerking his head back towards the bar before walking off. "Let me take you home. Take that as an apology for being so rough on you."

I blinked. "Um..."

"Hurry up!"

"Okay!" I squeaked and followed after the man quickly, chewing on my lip as I asked myself... what the fuck was I doing? Am I really about to get inside this man's car? He was a stranger! Who frisked me! Let alone, he is clearly a dangerous man.

I must be insane.

"Tell me," Chuuya started and I was dumbfounded as he approached a rather cool looking motorcycle. No way. "What the hell were you being so creepy for?" He turned to me and asked, an all-knowing smirk on his face. I blushed deeply. Of course, he already was able to figure it out once he realized that I wasn't a threat.

"No reason," I huffed out, earning a low laugh as Chuuya grabbed the only helmet I could see. I looked at him confused, gasping when he unceremoniously placed the helmet over my head. "What about you?"

"I don't need it," Chuuya simply answered before he finally mounted his bike. "Come on, you little liar. Hop on."

I couldn't help but stare, my mouth going dry as I took in the image of this handsome bastard with his bike. The engine roared as he turned it on, revving it a bit and making me make a mess in my panties.

"Hey, ya done eyefucking me, dollface?"

I sputtered. "I was NOT eyefucking you!" I stormed over to the bike, glaring at the grinning bastard as I climbed onto the bike behind him.

Chuuya snorted. "Yeah, like you weren't eyefucking me earlier in the bar," he retorted, easily reaching behind him to grab my wrists, pulling me against his back as he wrapped my arms around him. I was stunned silent, from his words, and his actions and the fact that his back felt so solid.... and he smelled so good...

"I was not..." I mumbled, pressing my cheek against his back. "Shut the fuck up."

He laughed darkly, and that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Where do you live?" Chuuya asked and I hesitantly told him my address. "I know where that is. Hold on."

"You do? It's on the other side of the city," I said and Chuuya just chuckled softly, looking over his shoulder and smirking at me.

"And who exactly runs this city?"

I clamped my mouth shut, his eyes staring into mine. I blushed and looked away from him. He turned his head back around with an amused laugh, the engine revving as he took off on his bike.

"Hold tight, dollface!"

He didn't have to tell me twice, my arms tightening around his torso as he sped down the street, weaving in and out of traffic. It was scary, but also so fucking exhilarating. My heart was thudding in my chest, my eyes watering because of the wind. Still, I kept them open, wanting to watch the world blur by us. Chuuya made a sharp, right turn, making me scream while he laughed loudly. 

"Man up!" he yelled at me.

"Stop driving like a crazy person!" I yelled back.

I didn't see the large, almost evil smirk that grew on Chuuya's face. Didn't see him licking his lips excitedly as he eyed a rather tall building coming up ahead.

"Tell me, dollface," he hollered back at me, revving the engine and I gulped as I held him tighter, his bike going faster. A bad feeling started to settle in my stomach, balking when he asked his next question. "Do you want to defy gravity?"

I didn't have time to answer, not when I finally realized that we were heading right towards the side of the building. I couldn't even scream, fear striking me as I suddenly started to see red, body jostling as Chuuya maneuvered the bike to jump in the air.... before landing perfectly on the side of the building and continuing vertically up towards the sky.

"Don't let go!" Chuuya sneered. Like that was ever going to happen.

I didn't dare turn my head to look down, my wide eyes staring up into the night sky as we made it closer to the top of the building. I couldn't even think straight, my body just running on nothing but adrenaline and fear.

"Ch-Chuuya!" I gasped out sharply, the bike finally making it to the roof of the building. Chuuya didn't slow down though, only barreling towards the edge and I started to panic. "Chuuya! What are you doing?!"

Chuuya only snickered, revving the engine once more before sending the bike flying off the edge of the building. I squeak and screw my eyes shut, pressing my face against the middle of his back. I didn't want to watch us plummet to our doom.

"Hey, idiot, open your eyes."

I whimpered and shook my head. "N-No..."

Chuuya sucked his teeth. "Just open your eyes! You'll regret it if you don't."

Biting my lip, I wanted a moment before I lifted my head up and opened my eyes, a small gasp leaving my mouth as I looked around me.

We were still floating in the air, biking moving through the sky. The City of Yokohama was lit up beautifully underneath us. I looked over, seeing the ocean at a distance, the ferris wheel lit up and spinning slowly. My mouth had fallen open, eyes wide in wonder. Chuuya was looking back at me, a triumphant grin on his face.

We made it to my apartment and Chuuya stood over me, an amused smile on his face as he watched me melt on the ground after I got off his bike.

"That was intense..." I mumbled, still feeling the effects of flying through the fucking sky. "I shouldn't even be surprised that you're gifted, with the power that you have already in the Port Mafia."

"Yeah, it was pretty great, huh," Chuuya said smugly, gloved hands stuffed in his coat pockets. I laughed softly, slowly standing up with my shaky legs. He took one look at my frazzled state and he grew even more smug. "That's a cute look on you, though if I really had my way with you, you wouldn't even be able to stand."

My face turned hot, sputtering as I tried to respond, but I had nothing to even say. Because the thought of actually inviting Chuuya inside and--

"Fuck..." I breathed out softly, looking at the man standing before me. His eyes didn't leave mine, the heat in them making a shiver go down my spine. "Do you... want to come inside?"

Chuuya fixed his hat on top of his head. "Lead the way, dollface."

"So... your ability lets you control gravity?" I asked once we made it inside the elevator of my apartment building. We were going fifteen stories up, after Chuuya parked his bike safely, of course.

"To put it simply, yes," Chuuya answered, stepping closer to me. I gasped softly when he grabbed my chin, the leather of his glove pressing against my skin. "But we're not here to talk about that." He pressed himself against me fully, leaning his face in until his lips hovered just above mine. I shivered, looking at him with hooded eyes. "This will be a one time thing, dollface."

I nodded, appreciating his honesty. "Of course," I replied just as the elevator stopped on my floor, doors sliding open. I grinned at him. "So let's make it count."

He liked the sound of that, grabbing my wrist and leading me out the elevator. I rushed to my apartment, grabbing my keys and hurriedly unlocking the door before opening it.

The door slammed shut as Chuuya immediately pressed me against it, his lips on mine in a fervorous kiss. I knocked his hat off his head as I ran my fingers through Chuuya's hair, moaning when his hands started to roam all over my body.

"Fuck..." I moaned softly when Chuuya started to kiss down my neck, squealing when he squeezed on my ass.

"Damn... you won't be able to fucking sit right, either," he growled against my neck as he massaged my ass and thighs. "Let's go."

Groaning when he moved himself away from me, I rushed to lead Chuuya to my bedroom, our clothes coming off in the process and making a trail on the floor.

It didn't take us too long to start really going at it, our lust fueling us to incredible heights. Chuuya held my hips tightly with his leather clad hands, thrusting his hard cock in and out of my soaking pussy.

He was fucking me hard, my body just sprawled on the bed as I moaned and grunted from the pleasure this man was giving me. "Fuck, fuck, Chuuya!" I whined, making the man grin widely as he kept his pace. Sweat covered both of our bodies, moans and deep growls mixing with the sound of skin slapping against skin.

"That's right, dollface, ride me," Chuuya smirked up at me, now on his back as I bounced up and down on his cock. His hands were right on my hips, his eyes going back and forth between  watching my bouncing breasts and watching his cock disappear inside my heat. "Fuck, you're so fucking sexy," he growled, thrusting up particularly hard and making me toss my head back, screaming when I finally fucking cum.

"Oh my God!" I gasped sharply, still squeezing around him as I began to slow down. "Oh fuck... it's so good," I moaned, reaching out and hooking my finger into Chuuya's black choker. I pulled and he pushed himself up, lips meeting mine in a messy kiss.

I moaned against his mouth, still slowly riding him as his hands ran up and down my sides, the leather cool against my skin. Then, Chuuya placed his hands on my hips, and with a mischievous little smirk, he licked his lips. Immediately, my body started to feel a little bit lighter, and Chuuya started to effortlessly bounce me up and down on his cock, 100% controlling my body with his ability.

"Chuuya..." I moaned his name, head lolling back. He continued to maneuver my body, little grunts and moans leaving his own mouth as he worked to reach his own pleasure, and mine.

I came again, tears falling down my face from the intense pleasure, and that was enough for Chuuya to pull me off of him completely, putting me on my knees before him on the bed. His hand grabbed the back of my neck and he pushed my head down, stuffing his cock in my mouth.

"Take it," he growled, his hands in my hair and using it to push my head up and down as he fucked my mouth. I moaned around him, a new wave of pleasure washing over me as I let the mafioso use me as he wanted. Soon enough, he exploded into my mouth, and I made sure I swallowed all of him.

"Fuck, that's hot..." Chuuya breathed out when I opened my mouth to show him that I did so. "You're such a good girl, dollface."

That made me flustered and I looked away shyly, earning a chuckle from him. I looked over when I felt him get up from the bed, thinking that he would leave. Instead, he just gave me a look. "Where is your shower?"

We showered together,  which took longer than needed because Chuuya couldn't keep his hands to himself. I was surprised when he climbed into bed with me afterwards, allowing me to cuddle against him as we slowly fell asleep.

I wasn't surprised though, when I woke up the next morning, sore and alone. I didn't get too upset about it, though. Chuuya laid it out clear and I accepted it and moved on.

I sat on my dining room table, looking through the newspaper as I sipped on my morning coffee. I was looking for a new job and figured looking at the local ads wouldn't hurt.

"Hm... let's see..." I whispered, reaching over and grabbing my knife. I ran the tip of it down the paper, stopping when one particular ad stuck out. "Hm... the Armed Detective Agency, huh? Interesting..." I set my knife down, staring at the ad as I took another careful sip of coffee.

-End

#bsd x reader #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya smut #bsd smut #dazai x reader #dazai smut #yeah lmao #I got a charlie horse trying to post this but I survive!! #im going to bed after posting this cause im scared please dont yell at me #I tried my best

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Life Goes On

This if for @buckybarnesplumwhore​

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; grieving, funeral, breeding, handcuffs, warnings are not exhaustive so read at your own discretion.

This is dark! Andy Barber x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You volunteer at the local youth center but when one of the kids meets an unfortunate end, you cross paths with his father. No stranger to grief, you try to help him cope but find it a bigger than task that you expected.

Note: When I started writing, I had no plan. When I kept writing, there was still no plan. And then it just all kinda happened.

Thanks to everyone for sticking around and putting up with me and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

It was too sunny for a funeral. A funeral come too soon.

The service was held out in the sun, rows of wooden chairs and a sombre old priest. You never knew if the Barbers were religious but it was easy to find a holy man in Massachusetts, as easy as those early years of settlement found in textbooks. 

There were no flowers, only two oblong caskets shrouded in black cloth, the name of each of the dead on silver placards, no pictures, no souvenir of who they were.

It was like Andy was already trying to forget them. He was at the front, the grieving widower and father. You were lost somewhere in the middle with his co-workers, there out of propriety more than empathy, and distant relatives who attended out of courtesy, some passing acquaintances who followed the story in the papers more than out of compassion. It was a spectacle and Andy had done his best from feeding the leering onlookers.

You knew Jacob more than his parents. He was younger than you, almost ten years apart. You knew him from the youth group you volunteered for, the same one you'd been in at his age. He was out of place there, he was from a better neighbourhood than the other kids, they called him the rich brat, and he resented himself more for it than he did them.

His attendance kept his mother happy. He didn't like the individual counseling, he didn't talk, so she put him in the group and he talked there. Sometimes. The kids never went on philosophical monologues but they understood each other and shared what they needed to.

Laurie was always late to pick him up. So he stayed to help stack the chairs and you ended up waiting with him, making sure he wasn't alone in the dark. He hated that at first too, until he realised you weren't on the stoop to council or judge. You were just two people, chatting to pass the time.

Sometimes Andy picked him up. He was friendlier than Laurie. Jacob's mother was always in a rush, even on her way home where there was no deadline. She said thanks, maybe, and drove off as she began to lecture Jacob about how he wore his hat. Andy offered you a ride, every time, as if he had some compulsion to be the good guy, the saviour. You always said no, the bus was a five minute ride to your building, fifteen minutes if you walked.

Now Jacob was dead, his mother too. Another tragedy inflicted upon those least likely. Even death didn't stop the whispers, even that venue, the priest's collar, the Biblical dirges, the grim family man in black did not silence them. It sickened you as the service ended and the people rose in a hushed murmur.

Andy left without talking to anyone. The procession of cars would drive through the streets with flags to mark the grieving on their way to the interment. It was as if Andy was doing what was expected more than what he felt he owed the deceased. He was ever the lawyer, formal and curt.

You followed the grey parade. Not out of obligation but out of genuine regret. Jacob seemed like a lost kid, even in death. The rumours, the accusations, the suspicion, followed him. The people didn't watch the dirt fall from the shovel to see him at peace, they watched it as some grand finale to the great show of the Barbers.

When the metal no longer cut and scattered the soil, the crowd thinned out. You stayed as the diggers packed up. You were sad for Jacob, for Laurie. Andy hadn't been there to see the burial. You couldn't blame him but you were surprised. He just disappeared after the service, apparently done with his part in the play. 

You went closer and stared at the new stone that stretched above both plots. Laurie Barber… and her son, Jacob Barber. May they rest. It was as short, as minimal as anything else about the affair. You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. You didn't know if Jacob was a bad seed, it wasn't your job to make that call, but he had just been a kid and all that potential was now six feet down.

"Didn't think anyone would stick around," the dark figure stepped up beside you, his steps muted by the grass, "least of all, you."

"I'm sorry, I…" you looked at Andy and then the dirt, "I'll go."

"Wait," he said before you could move, "I thought-- I thought I wanted to be alone for this…" he shoved his hand in his pocket, "but I've been alone since it happened and I'm realising, I'm gonna be alone from here on out."

You didn't say a word. You didn't know what you could say. He'd heard a hundred apologies, a hundred condolences.

"I'm happy someone stayed, that someone cared," he cleared his throat, "thank you."

You nodded and played with the buttons on your cardigan.

"He was too. Happy, you know, that someone cared. I think back now and I realise that you probably saw him more than me. He was always excited to go to the centre but he got in that car and he just… deflated." He shook his head, "maybe this is better. One way or the other, he wanted to get away from me but he never could get away from Laurie. She wouldn't let him go."

He chuckled sardonically but it quickly fizzled in his throat.

"Sorry, I'm rambling…"

"You're processing," you said, "a lot of the kids down at the centre, they lost parents, one way or the other, orphans, fosters… I always told them that they didn't have to make sense because grief never really does."

"Now that makes a lot of sense," he said, "but you shouldn't have to listen to me."

"I shouldn't or you don't think you should say any of it?"

"Hmmm," he hummed, "yeah, maybe."

"I don't get paid to listen to those kids, I just get a time and a place to do so. This isn't different. It's just talking and a lot of that is just figuring things out. Listening is easy, you're doing the hard part."

"Jeez, you come up with this stuff on your own or is there some sort of how-to book?"

You lifted your chin and sucked in your lip. You could tell where Jacob got the bite from.

"Sorry, that was… mean," he said after the silence settled with the dirt, "can I ask you something?"

"Sure," you said.

"You got somewhere to be?"

"No…" you answered cautiously.

"Do you think you might wanna listen to me a little more? I'll buy you a coffee for the trouble."

"You wanna talk? To me?"

"Better than anyone I do know," he snorted, "they all just give me that dumb look. They pity me, judge me. You don't have to say yes but I started now, if I stop, I'll...stop."

"Coffee?" You glanced over at him, "I'd rather tea."

"I'm sure they got that too," he fiddled with the trim of his pocket, "anytime you wanna bail, let me know."

"If I can handle teen angst, I think I can handle you."

🖤

That afternoon wasted away in the corner of a café. It felt like any other day but for Andy, you knew, it was likely the worst day of his life. Likely a day he wouldn’t forget. You sat patiently until the last of your tea was cold. He didn’t finish his coffee, he hardly even touched it. When you checked the time, he looked down embarrassed.

“It’s late,” he said, “I… I’m sorry for keeping you so long.”

“I didn’t have anything to do. I doubt you did either,” you swept up the paper cup and your purse.

“No, really, I mean, you don’t know me. You knew Jacob and I just sat here and talked your ear off for hours. I--” he looked out the window, “I know that when I go home, the house will still be empty. That’s why I’m here.”

You looked past him as he turned back. You chewed your lip, “Andy, have you looked into counseling yet?”

“It feels… too early for that.”

“Too early?”

“I don’t want to let it go. Don’t want to let them go,” he sucked his hands in his pockets, “if I go, that’s what they’ll tell me to do.”

“No, they’d help you live with it, not forget it,” you said, “but I know, it’s scary. Have you done anything? Read anything?”

“Read?”

“Self-help isn’t for everyone and those dummy books aren’t great I admit, but sometimes a start is better than nothing. What about… a routine? Do you have one?”

“I work, I come home, I sleep, and try not to notice they’re gone,” he shrugged, “and repeat. Lot of overtime.”

“You’re still working?” you went to the door and he followed.

“Well, I talked to you. That’s what I’m going to do about it.”

You stepped out into the evening din and spun to look at him. You crossed your arms and stood across from him on the pavement.

“Well, unfortunately there’s an age limit down at the centre,” you said, “but I could give you a number for an adult group.”

“No, I don’t wanna talk to a group of sad parents and widowers. Just remind me how pathetic I really am,” he scoffed.

“Do you think that what you’re doing right now is better?”

“Do you have a degree in this?” he wondered, “what are you doing down at that youth centre talking to degenerates?”

“I have a certificate that says I’m good at listening, but no, I couldn’t afford a degree,” you dropped your arms, “but, will you come down? Sit in on a session. Just listen… for Jacob? It helped him, I think, after a while?”

“With the kids?”

“Yeah, with the kids,” you said, “maybe it will help you decide.”

“Decide what?”

“If you’re going to keep doing what you're doing; nothing, or if you’re going to try. Trust me, after a while, just sitting there, ignoring it, it gets old and it won’t get better.”

He looked down and stared at his leather shoe as he ground his toe into the pavement, “is that allowed? Am I allowed to do that?”

“I don’t see why not. I have parents sit in all the time.”

“But I’m not-- not anymore,” he gulped.

“You are,” you patted his arm gently, “you always will be.”

“What time?” he raised his head.

“Tuesdays and Thursdays at four-thirty. We do accept late arrivals. Kids come in and out. Usually hang out til seven before I let them go.”

“I think I can make that work,” he exhaled deeply, “thank you.”

“For what?”

“For putting up with me.”

You nodded and gave a bittersweet smile, “I miss Jacob too. I might be little more than a glorified babysitter but it means something to me. The kids… they feel like they’re mine sometimes. At least on those two nights a week.”

“Well…” he peered down the street, “you need a ride?”

You chuckled quietly, “you now, I think this time, I do.”

🖤

Andy was early. He took a chair near the wall as the kids flopped on the low sofas and into the colourful armchairs. A government grant had seen an upgrade in the lounge, although the kitchen needed some work as the cooking classes were still short on supplies. Dark circles darkened his eyes and the hairline wrinkles around them added to the hollow effect. He wasn’t sleeping.

You waited for the room to quiet. You greeted the kids and went through the usual ice breaker; one bad thing, one good thing, and one way they could improve the bad. Many of them were reluctant at first, they resisted what they thought were cheesy and inane exercises but they all came around. They were able to voice things that otherwise would be kept to themselves and they were afforded a respectful and often rapt audience.

When you finished, you kept from naming your own three. You looked at Andy.

“I’m sorry, everyone, I’m so forgetful. This is Andy,” you gestured to him, “he’s sitting in with us today. Andy, why don’t you tell us your bad thing, your good thing, and one thing you can do to improve the bad.”

He looked startled but he stood and cleared his throat. He glanced around at the kids and the shadow left his face. “Well, I lost a file, there were free bagels at work, and… I guess I could try to look again tomorrow.”

“Very good,” you smiled, “alright, my turn at last. My bad thing is I spilled tea on my shirt, my good thing is it’s a dark shirt, and my thing to improve is… wear a bib.” You laughed as you audience stay stone faced, “alright, alright, I’ll just be more careful and not run with hot liquids.”

You sat and started with Danica. She was always the most talkative, that encouraged the other kids. Today was no exception and you had to remind her to save some time for everyone else. Erik was next, then Andre, and Shamea. You almost didn’t notice Andy as he stood and sidled against the wall. Not until he was at the door, he looked back darkly and you saw his chest fall heavily. His nostrils flared and he was gone.

You tried not to show your disappointment, tried not to let the kids notice. They were all caught up in the circle and breaking it was never good. Shamea passed the stuffed bunny to Naima and you focused on her. Maybe it was too soon for Andy, you understood that, but you hoped too that he might have found a piece of Jacob there.

Before the kids left, you handed out the coloured markers and they each scribbled down a few words before a high-five. They passed through the open door in pairs and singles, and you bent to add your own note. You tucked the card into your bag and locked up. Jacob was usually the only one to hang around. Not anymore.

You headed out the front door with a wave to Martha at the front desk and took a gulp of the fresh evening air. There was someone sat on the flat stone at the bottom of the broad rail of the stairs. You recognised Andy as you neared, much too big to be a teen.

“I’m sorry,” he dabbed his nose with his sleeve, “I couldn’t… I couldn’t stay in that room.”

“But you’re still here,” you said.

“I didn’t wanna just leave you hanging but… they all remind me of him,” he stood, “I’m sorry.”

“No more apologies,” you opened your purse and searched, “I had the kids put this together. Actually, it was Milo’s idea. He didn’t know it was you but he wanted to send it in the mail--”

“What?” he took the card and opened it. He turned so he could read it in the yellow light of the street lamp, “oh my god.”

“Is it too much?”

“No, no,” he ran his thumb over the ink, “it’s…” he closed it and tucked it into his jacket, “the only other thing I’ve got is the bill for the caskets. It’s… amazing. Thank you.”

“Not at all. They always surprise me,” you said, “most of the time, in good ways.”

“You need a ride?” he checked his watch.

“I don’t live far,” you waved him off, “but I always appreciate the offer.”

He nodded and frowned, “and if… if I didn’t want to be alone? Would you grab a burger with me? Have you eaten?”

“Not since lunch, I, uh… I guess it couldn’t hurt,” you said.

“You gotta be up early?”

“Nah, not too early.”

“What do you do? I mean, outside of this?” he turned and directed you to his car.

“Data entry,” you sighed, “it’s not very exciting but I work remotely and the pay is decent and I still have time for the kids.”

“It’s a living,” he said as the door locks clicked and you grabbed the handle, “no judgment. Trust me, being a lawyer, it’s really not as glamourous as it seems.”

🖤

Andy’s routine changed. He came around every Thursday and listened. After a few weeks, the kids figured out who he was. They didn’t treat him any differently and even invited him to join in on the teambuilding games you arranged. He wasn’t bad help as you welcomed a few new members from the group home.

That night, you weren’t feeling great. Even the kids hadn’t helped much. You were exhausted and nauseous. You blamed it on the late night shawarma. You said goodbye to the kids and packed up. Andy stacked the chairs without you asking, even when you told him not to.

You leaned heavily on the table and checked your phone before slipping it into your bag. You wiped your forehead and shivered. Some gravol, ginger ale, and sleep would be your indulgence that night.

“You okay?” Andy asked.

“Stomach thing,” you rubbed your middle, “nothing major.”

“You don’t look great,” he said, “well, I don’t mean it like-- are you sure--”

“Oh, gee,” you slid past him and out the door.

You ran to the restroom across the hall and into a stall. You wretched and the acid seared your throat. The bile bubbled in the toilet water and you shuddered. You heaved a few more times and rinsed your mouth in the sink.

Andy was waiting for you in the hall, “let me drive you tonight,” he insisted, “even if it’s just a block away.”

“I can’t even say no,” you grumbled as he handed you your purse.

“What’s wrong? You eat something?”

“I think,” you groaned as he held the door open and the cool air outside chilled the sweat on your neck, “urgh, I hope it’s only that.”

You got to his car and fell heavily into the seat. You slumped against the console as he started the car. He paused as the engine idled and felt your forehead. He nudged you back against the seat and turned his hand to press the back of his fingers to your cheek.

“You got a fever,” he said, “I don’t think it’s food poisoning.”

“Oh, those kids carry bugs like rats,” you muttered, “just take me home, I’ll get over it.”

He pulled out of his spot and you closed your eyes. You leaned against the window, frigid against your forehead and hugged yourself. You dozed off before he even turned out of the lot, the belt keeping you from folding over entirely.

🖤

You woke up between fresh linen. The sunlight was soft in its early hues. It wasn't your bed. You rolled onto your side and your stomach ached from how empty it was. You pushed back the thick duvet, you were sweating. You didn't remember more than the car ride and a few fuzzy glimpses of the bottom of a bucket. 

You were cold again and pulled the blanket back. The door was open and Andy filled it as if he'd heard your grumbles. He stood at the bottom of the bed in a pair of plaid pants and a blue tee.

"Why am I here?" You asked. 

"You fell asleep. You're sick. I couldn't just leave you outside your building," he said, "how are you feeling?"

"Bad," you replied curtly, "I can go," you sat up, "stop by the pharmacy, go hide in my own bed."

"You should stay here," he insisted, "just until the fever breaks."

"Really… ugh," you moaned as your belly clenched, "Andy, I should--"

"Lay down?" He came around and caught your shoulder, "I used to call in sometimes when Jacob was home sick. When he was a lot younger and… I stir up a man cup of noodles."

"You don't have to--"

"It's completely selfish," he interrupted, "it's been a long time since I had someone to take care of or at least it feels like it."

You were light-headed as you tried to stand but he kept you from getting to your feet, "I guess I can stay a little longer."

"Don't act like I don't owe you," he tutted, "now relax. I'll get you some soup. You need something in your system. I got some anti-nausea pills in the cupboard, too."

"Thanks but you don't owe me anything. I'm gonna owe you big."

"Why don't we just call it even then," he backed up, "seeing as that's my bed and my couch, it's really not made for sleeping." He stretched his arms and his shoulders cracked, "especially at my age."

🖤

You stayed another night. You tried to convince Andy to let you take the couch instead but he was a lawyer and rarely lost an argument. It was easier to eat by the evening but you were still dizzy and you couldn't stop yawning. You'd never been so tired.

Despite your uneasiness at overstaying your welcome, you slept more heavily than before. Your guilt didn't keep you awake for long as you sank into a deep sleep and you woke slowly, a murmur escaping your lips as grogginess weighed you down. You were still so very tired but it was already morning.

You stretched and your wrist caught. You winced and tugged at your arm. You sat up in horror as you stared at the metal cuff attached to the hoop drilled into the headboard. You tugged until your arm hurt and your hand throbbed. What the fuck.

"Andy! Andy! What--"

"Shhhhh," Andy hushed you as he entered, "it's okay, you're okay."

"No, I'm not. What did you do?" You pulled again and the metal pinched your skin.

"You're going to hurt yourself," he said calmly.

"Unlock it. Let me go," you struggled as you kicked off the blankets, "Andy, what the fuck?"

"Hey, don't talk like that. It's...nasty."

"I don't understand," you began to pant, "why are you doing this?"

The panic crawled like tendrils up your neck and back. You twisted and pulled but the metal cuff didn't budge. You felt the bed shift and Andy grabbed your shoulder. He forced you down, pinning your other hand beside your head.

"I'm taking care of you," he said, "don't be so ungrateful."

"I can take care of myself. Let me go, please."

"No, you need me," he snarled, "like I need you."

"Andy, you're wrong--"

"Stop!" He covered your mouth, "stop! You don't know what you need. Now be still. Be quiet." He squeezed until your jaw hurt, "don't make this difficult."

He slowly lifted his hand and you didn’t move. You stared at his hand then looked at his face. There was a desperate anger in the depths of his oceanic eyes. He sat back and his jaw clenched as he watched you.

"I'm going to make breakfast. Be good. You need to eat." He backed off the bed and went to the door, "I mean it."

He left you and you listened until pans clinked and clanged in the kitchen below. You folded your thumb against your palm and tried to wiggle free of the cuff. It was too tight. There was only one other way out and you couldn't do it alone.

"HELP! HELP! SOMEONE PLEASE!" You screamed, "someone help me!"

The footsteps hammered up the stairs and Andy stormed in. He grabbed you and clamped his hand over your mouth again.

"Listen, no one can hear you, you got that? Windows are soundproof, but I really don't want to hear it so it's up to you if I gag you."

You blinked and your lip trembled against his hand. Your eyes rounded and you nodded stiffly. He tore his hand away and sighed as he clapped his hands on his legs in frustration.

"Good," he said quietly, "now, let's just hope," he stood and strode to the door, "that the bacon didn't burn."

🖤

You fell asleep again shortly after eating, even with the adrenaline and panic surging through your veins. You woke again in the afternoon. Your limbs were heavy but the fever was gone and your stomach felt better but you were still terribly tired. 

Andy was there. He had a leather file in his lap as he looked over papers and scratched his beard. He sensed your movement and looked over at you.

"Hungry?" He asked, "you slept through lunch."

"No," you smelled your sweat on the duvet, "but… can I have a shower? I haven't...since I got here."

"A shower?" He closed the folder and stood. He set it down and pursed his lips as he thought. "Fifteen minutes," he said as he dug around in his pocket, "I'll be here."

He unlocked the cuff and you rubbed your wrist as you sat up. He stayed close as you rose and stayed between you and the bedroom door as he pointed you to the bathroom.

"I don't have much for you to wear yet but you can take another one of my shirts," he said.

You nodded and closed the door between you. You closed your eyes and pressed yourself to the wind. How was this the same man that you spoke to that day at the cemetery?

🖤

He slept beside you that night. You were on your side, your arm bound again by the cuff with the pillow between it and your head. You were uncomfortable, more so with him against your back. He wore only a pair of boxers. You shied away when he undressed and never looked at him again.

You dozed despite your nerves. You couldn't shake the drowsiness. You just felt more and more tired. When you opened your eyes, his arm was around you. He ran his fingers over your stomach, fingers crawling beneath the baggy tee shirt. You shivered and he nuzzled the back of your neck.

"I was thinking… well, I've been thinking for a while now, how happy we could be," he said, "I'm still young enough to try again, do it right and you… you're young, ready." His hand brushed up to your chest and he cupped your tit, "you're kind, you're caring, you're...beautiful. You’re my second chance."

“Andy,” your voice was brittle as your pulse beat furiously, “what you’re doing, it’s not right. You need to let me go.”

He went rigid and his hand stopped. He unsnaked his arm from around you and the springs coiled as he fell heavily onto his back. In the silence, you could only hear his steady breaths and a low growl.

“No, I’m helping you,” he said, “like you’ve helped me.”

“Andy, please,” you eased onto your back and looked over at him, “this isn’t how you fix this.”

“How do I?” he snarled, “huh? How? You don’t know!” he sat up and glared down at you, “you can’t know.”

“You think hurting me is helping me? That’s what you’re doing.”

“No, no, no,” he bent his legs as he grasped his head and gripped it as if it would crack, “No! I haven’t hurt you. I feed you, I keep you clean, I… I take care of you!”

“Andy,” you reached over shakily and touched his bare shoulder, “this isn’t what I want and I know you don’t want it either. You want someone who really loves you--”

“You love me!” he turned so quickly you yelped. He gripped your jaw tightly as he held himself against you, “you love me,” he pressed his lips to yours and you murmured in surprise, “you love me,” it was a maddened chant as he pulled back, “...love me.”

“And--”

His hand flew up to smother you and he lifted himself over you. His knees pressed to your legs until they parted and his other hand explored your curves through the rumpled cotton. You squeaked and tensed against his touch, your wrist chafing from the cuff.

“Shhh,” he hushed as he pushed the shirt up.

He kept his hand on your mouth as he slid down your body and left a trail of kisses along your torso as he unveiled it. He bunched the tee above your chest and bent to dote on your tits. You shuddered and pushed on his head as you mumbled into his palm.

His fingers tickled along your side and hooked into the side of the drawstring shorts he gave you. He tugged until the string snapped and edged them down as he continued to tend to your chest. You kicked around him and felt his bulge as he leaned into you.

He ripped his hand away and sat up. He grabbed the waist of the shorts and wrenched them down your legs, quickly taking his between them again. You wriggled and batted out at his chest as his thumbs pressed against your hip bones and his hands crept down to knead your thighs.

“I can start again,” he brushed his fingers down your vee and you trembled as they danced along your cunt.

“No, Andy, please, you can still stop--”

“Shhhh, honey,” he pushed between your folds and you gasped, “it’s okay. I’ll still take care of you,” he glided over your cunt and made you twitch, “and the baby.”

He poked along your entrance and you whined helplessly as you reached to the cuff and pulled with both arms. Every muscles in your strained as you tried to break free of the headboard. He pushed a finger inside of you and you cried out.

“Andy, stop, please, no--”

He added another finger and slipped them in and out of you as he purred. You looked at his face and it sent a chill through you. His eyes were dark and clung to the movement of his hand, his brow set and his jaw squared with his intent. He wasn’t the grieving widower, he wasn’t the man lost and lonely, he was a monster.

“That’s it,” he turned his hand and flicked your clit with his thumb, “you want me. I feel it.”

You looked away as your wetness spread to his knuckles and along your folds. He kept his thumb moved as he curled his fingers inside of you and the pressure built as the tip of his touch. You gritted your teeth and shook your head helplessly.

“No,” you whispered, “no, no, no…”

He took his hand away suddenly and you felt empty. He lifted himself on his knees and rolled down his boxers. You didn’t look at him, you couldn’t, you only saw the silhouette of his nudity.

He pushed your thighs apart and spread himself over you, his elbow just beside you as he felt around between your bodies. His hot breath grazed your cheek and he kissed it firmly as he angled his tip between your folds. Your thighs clenched around him in a futile act of resistance as he found your entrance.

He pushed inside slowly and brought his other arm up beside you. He forced your head straight and you squeezed your eyes shut. He cradled your head between his hands and his lips brushed yours as he spoke, “open your eyes. Look at me.”

“Andy,” you murmured as he slowly got deeper, “please--”

“Look at me,” he demanded, “look at me!”

Your eyes snapped open and met his stormy blue ones. He bucked his hips and impaled you completely. You exclaimed and grasped his thick bicep in shock, your other hand balled above the cuff. Your legs bent around his thick thighs as you tried to stop him.

“God, you feel so good,” he purred as he began to rock, “don’t I feel good too?”

Your lashes fluttered away the rising tears and you sucked your lip in to keep from making a sound. You could look away as he held your head straight, his hand clamping around your jaw as he other arm bent beneath yours.

The room echoed with the noise of his flesh slapping yours as he sped up, his grunts and groans interlaced with the sickening symphony. You quivered as his pelvis rubbed against yours and stoked the heat in your core. You could not hold back the illicit response of your body as he ravaged it.

Your breath grew heavier and he gulped it down as he kissed you again, forcing his tongue between your lips as he devoured you. The whole bed moved in time with your body and the headboard knocked against the wall as his thrusts came closer and closer together and he buried himself as deep as he could with each tilt of his hips.

He drew his mouth away and pressed his cheek to yours as his muscles tensed and he puffed into the pillow, “this is it, honey. It all starts here.”

“Ah, please…” your voice fizzled and smothered your moan against his shoulder as your body spasmed. Your legs bent around him firmly as you orgasmed and your body arched beneath his desperately.

“That’s it,” he cooed, “that’s it. You take me so well. See… it was meant to… be.”

His breaths grew more rampant with his rhythm. His hand slipped down to cradle your cheek and his thumb stroked your flesh tenderly as he dipped into you over and over. His deep groans grew louder around you. He jerked into you sharply and his motion stuttered. He gripped your hip and held you down as he sheathed himself in your walls. 

He quaked as his hips slowed and he flooded you. He exhaled and as his lungs emptied, the strength left him entirely and he lowered himself over you weakly. His body pressed yours into the mattress, your sweat and his turned sticky as the air settled over you.

He stayed like that for what felt like forever. He moved slowly to lift himself up and he sat back, watching his dick slide out of you. Your thighs shook as your legs splayed around him. You felt his cum leak from you and he dragged his fingers along your cunt and scooped it back into you, coating his fingers in as he pushed them past your entrance once more. He smiled at the wet sounds of your cunt.

“That felt like the one,” he said, “but we can try again...”

He pulled his fingers out of you and admired the slickness that glistened over them. He reached down and gripped his dick, half-soft and spent. He winced as he began to stroke himself and let out stifled moans between his teeth.

“Maybe this time,” he purred as he angled himself inside of you again and lifted your legs against his torso. He bit his lips as he trembled, his cock oversensitive and overworked, “as many times as it takes, honey.”

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #one shot #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #defending jacob

[court-of-forever-undone]

I Knew You’d Come Back to Me

Chapter Two: Slept next to her, but I dreamt of you (Cardan’s POV)

Summary:  While homesick and heartbroken in the mortal world, Jude finds a pile of letters on her doorstep that include an official pardon and a love confession from Cardan. What is supposed to be a happy reunion quickly falls apart when Jude is told Cardan has returned to Nicasia in her absence. 

Cardan is determined to make it up to Jude. 

**This fic is inspired by the love story between Taylor Swift’s characters Betty, James, and August.**

Should you wish to listen: Cardigan | Betty | August

Tags: Multiple POVs, angst and a happy ending, Jurdan, post-wicked king, canon divergence

Masterlist

Read on AO3

Four Months Post Exile

If she has decided that she wishes to stay away and forget about Elfhame, me, then I will forget about her as well. Except that I can’t because for the eternity she has been gone there has been nothing to rid my thoughts of her.

I grab the nearest pitcher of wine, not that they are ever far from my reach as of late, and swallow as much of the tart liquid as I can. At least if I pass out there is a chance I may dream of her, or dream of losing her. But it is a chance I am willing to take.

There is a revel happening, for a reason I cannot remember. Probably honoring some guest that I cannot be bothered to care about at this point. I tend to the kingdom as best as I can for the day, but by the time the dawn is rising I do everything I can to forget the subtle human features that haunt me. The curve of her ear, the flush in her cheeks, the softness of her form.

Since she has been gone there has been an unbearable ache in my chest that only seems to worsen at her memory. I’ve taken back up with a variety of powders that I grew accustomed to at Balekin’s parties. The numbing sensation is highly preferable to the agonizing dread that awaits me in sobriety. At least when time passes differently, I can imagine that she is home again, or at the very least, I can pass more days until she returns.

Her return seems more and more uncertain because despite my letters, she has not come home, nor even responded to them. She has made no inclination that she intends to return, which is ridiculous because she is the queen. When she returns I will have to remember to remind her of all the accusations she threw my way at neglecting responsibilities, meanwhile she has spent months in the mortal world as if waiting for me to come bring her home myself.

I grin at the idea. A trip to the mortal world could quickly end this ridiculous torture. At least I would have the chance to see her in the flesh.

She could get her anger out and then return home with me. At this point, a curse from her lips would sound like music and her fingers curled around my neck would be ecstasy.

In time, that anger might turn to forgiveness and we can all move on from this nonsense.

Present Day

What a dreadful day today has been. I should have returned to my chambers the moment I was given news of a wine shortage because poisoned wine had been found in the castle’s cellars, because that meant I had to suffer through the small council’s bickering mostly sober, followed by hours of grievance hearings from folk. For a kingdom full of people who find me utterly incompetent, they sure do make plenty of pleas to the crown.

Only one hour remains until I can leave the presence of my court and scout for my own wine to drink, poisoned or otherwise.

“Cardan…?” Nicasia said with the air of a question.

I respond with a non-committal sound before glancing in her direction to my left. Again, she had found a seat nearest mine, despite my repeated reminder that she was no longer entitled to that spot. We were nothing beyond friends with a bit of history, even if my entire council, mother, and Nicasia herself thought it was ridiculous to prolong a “land-sea” alliance any longer.

I turn back to the conversation I had been ignoring and make an appropriate response, before quickly tuning them out again. Courtiers have nothing better to do than waste my time.

Admittedly, I could see my advisors’ point and I haven’t exactly fought to deny Nicasia’s advances anymore. Not when the one I want has rejected me entirely, favoring a mortal over me and forsaking our kingdom to my inadequate rule.

If I were a kinder soul, I might have been content to see her happy and adjusted to the mortal world, but I am not. I hate myself for sending her away and I hate her just as much for not wanting to return. Every time someone suggests I marry, I want to scream the truth for the entire kingdom to hear.

I married the mortal Jude Duarte. I did it so she would release her hold over me, but I also did it because I wanted to. I wanted to make her my queen and share this dreaded life with her; the powerful, defiant, occasionally murderous, human woman with all her soft features and perfectly odd ears.

Pride be damned. If she returned, I’d allow her anything. She would never need a geas to command me. She was already a ruler, she deserved the credit. The court would eventually adjust to the idea of a human ruler once they recognized her rule. I would lead the most devoted of her court and in our bedroom, I would further prove to her just how devoted I was by spreading --

Nicasia’s hand sliding over my knee snaps me from my thoughts. The touch of her hand felt sickly wrong considering my thoughts of Jude. I brush her hand aside and purposefully ignore the hurt look on her face. I may allow her into my room on nights where even the wine and the powders cannot bring me peace, but she knows I am far too sober and there are too many people around for that.

At the edge of my peripheral I see a dark shadow approaching. The Roach; always a welcomed distraction usually armed with wonderfully bad news.

“Come to tell me of another attempt on my life?” I murmur as he bows down to whisper in my ear.

“You are needed at once, your majesty” the goblin reports.

At that, I laugh but make no effort to move. “There is a first for everything. What is it?” I am happy to use whatever matter it is as an excuse to leave, but I am curious what requires my attention that the spies could not handle themselves.

“Jude has returned. She is waiting to see you.”

His words hit like the hilt of a sword to the chest. I stand, jumping the courtier closest to me.

“I have matters to attend to. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” I say to no one in particular, trying to ignore the loud pounding in my ears as my heart threatens to beat out of my chest.

I begin to follow the Roach out of the room when I feel a hand on my arm.

“What is going on?” Nicasia asks, her eyes wide. I shake out of her grasp.

“It is a matter of great importance that does not concern you.” Instead of moving away, like my body demands to, I move in closer to her so only she can hear me. “I meant my words in the gardens. Do not show up this evening or any evening again.”

Her mouth fell slightly open as water rimmed her eyes. I didn't stay for her response, instead I turned back and followed the Roach into the tunnel, knowing every step was bringing me closer to Jude. As we stalk through the hallways, I cannot slow the questions bombarding my mind.

Did she decide against her life in the mortal world? Did she miss me as I have missed her? What should I say to her? Will she allow me to embrace her? Should I announce her return tonight?

I have envisioned dozens of scenarios of what I would say or do when she returned, but now that she is only a few steps away I have no plan past seeing her, holding her if I can, to make sure she is real and not my imagination come to life.

We take the final turn that I know leads to the headquarters for the Court of Shadows when Livier blocks the doorway.

“Where is she?”

I watch as her face contorts. She opens her mouth to respond before closing it again, clearly unsure how to answer. I don’t have patience for this. I have to see her now.

“Move Livier,” I demand.

How many months has it been since we had fallen asleep together after our vows? How long has it been that I’ve felt her pressed against me?

“Cardan, wait!” She exclaims as I try to move past her. “She doesn’t want to see you.”

I stop dead at her words.

Before I can speak, the Roach asks for me, “What do you mean? She sent us to get him.”

The pixie nods. “Yes. She went to the royal chambers, but she returned soon after and has stated she does not wish to speak.”

I cannot help the bite to my words. “To speak to anyone, or just me?”

Her silence gives me my answer. “Why?” I spit out.

She is on the other side of the wall. It has been months, what about my room could have made her decide against seeing me? A darker thought crosses my mind; what if she has decided to return to the mortal world again? The idea threatens to break me then and there in the dark tunnels beneath the castle.

Livier looks at her companion with unease.

“Why?” I demand again.

The Bomb swallows before explaining, “When she returned, she asked how long you and the Princess of the Undersea had been back together.”

My desperation melted into cruel pitiful laughter. She was jealous of Nicasia, while she had herself a human plaything. The hypocrisy was grand. I wonder how her face would look when I asked about the man and how she could possibly blame me when she broke our vows first. My laughter quickly fizzled into a frozen anger.

I needed to leave before the weight of the situation could bear down on me. In all my imaginations, I never predicted this. I had hoped she’d run to my arms or more realistically, slap me followed up with a kiss. But never returning and refusing to see me.

I want to beg to see her. Beg for her forgiveness. Beg her to stay even if she hates me.

As a king, I have every right to go wherever I please. But as a queen, she has the right to deny entry to anyone. So I turn in the tight hallway and take the turn that leads to my rooms.

She is home. She wouldn’t see me, but she is home, which meant I could fix this. She might not see me tonight, but I would win her forgiveness and maybe her love too.

****

After almost two weeks of announcements and planning, Jude’s coronation ball will begin soon. I have still yet to see her in person, but through messengers and letters she agreed to rule with me and begrudgingly accepted my proposal for a party to celebrate her return and status.

The actual coronation will not take place for another few weeks due to the time needed to gather all the court’s representatives, but this evening would be a full celebration nonetheless. She is home and that enough is cause to celebrate.

The party will also finally force Jude out of the shadows. I suspect she has moved around the castle quite a bit as I heard she met with her sisters and the Living Council, but she has made a careful effort to avoid me.

There have been several times where I have made it all the way to her door before deciding to leave and giving her the space she demands. For months now, I have had dreams of the moment we saw each other again; I have imagined her vulgar words and sweet touches. Tonight is the last night I can imagine because in a matter of hours I will see her again. For the evening, she will have no choice but to stand in the same room as me. I already announced her as my wife and Elfhame’s High Queen. After this evening, she can avoid me outside of official business, if she wishes. It would be devastating, but no more devastating than how it felt when she was gone.

I pace back and forth in my chambers thinking through all the details of the evening since I have nothing better to do. I dressed long ago in a suit twin to the dress I had sent for Jude. If I thought the last dress I designed for her was stunning, I am not sure I’ll be able to survive seeing her in tonight's creation. I gave the tailor a sketch of a silver gown with a fitted bodice and twin streams of fabric that flow from the shoulders. The hope was to create an illusion of the armor she seemed to favor. I doubt the tailor will disappoint and frankly, Jude could wear an old sack and still be devastatingly beautiful.

Before long I receive the signal to head to the ballroom. As I enter the room, I admire for the first time the servant’s efforts to fulfill my image for the evening. The decoration for a typical revel was nothing compared to the fanfare visible this evening. Long strings of lights and streamers hung from the ceiling and sweet and savory treats of all varieties are piled high on trays. The musicians and other entertainment for the evening are already in full swing keeping the guests happy and amused.

As is customary, the party has been going on for some time now, before the king and now queen enter. The center of the space is filled with revelers dancing and singing. At any other party, I would have gladly joined, but I cannot help the pooling sense of unease as I glance through the crowding looking for a particular face.

I do find the face I am looking for, but not the right person. Taryn is standing on the side of the dance floor chatting with some courtier. Locke is nowhere to be seen, which is for the best. If I notice him even causing Jude to frown this evening, I will have him locked in the dungeons for the night.

I occupy myself with some wine while I wait and use the opportunity to boast of Jude’s brilliance to anyone who decides they wish to speak with me. After about a dozen of these conversations, I finally catch a glimpse of her walking into the room with Vivianne at her side.

My Jude.

I admire her with total abandon. She is absolutely stunning. The movement of her steps causes the fabric to shimmer as it flows obscenely over her body. While I will imagine her in this dress for many nights to come, it is the crown that sits atop her head that captures my attention.

The crowd cheers at her arrival and many bow to her. While she keeps her emotions well concealed, I can see the smallest of smiles appear on her face. She enjoys the recognition. Seeing her now, if I could have given her this from the start I would have.

My heart-stopping queen.

I stay to the side where I am and watch her enjoyment from afar. She dances with her sisters from time to time and speaks to members of the gentry with ease. I know she has noted my presence, even if she has yet to look in my direction. When it is time to address the crowd, it is my turn to avoid her direction. I keep my speech to the folk short, enough to praise her and remind anyone who may be considering treason exactly who Jude Duarte is. At the final toast, I steel myself before addressing her directly.

“Welcome home, Jude.”

Our eyes meet for the briefest of moments, burning with a million unspoken words before she breaks away and turns to address the now-growing crowd around her.

It was the first time she acknowledged me since the morning I sent her away and suddenly the emotion behind that realization hits me all at once. I let my eyes linger on her turned back a moment longer, before downing my drink and disappearing into the gardens to wallow in my own self pity.

I told myself I would be happy if she just returned home, but now I realize how badly each moment I spend away from her aches. In school, I hated the way I longed for her. I had chalked it up to being a disgraceful obsession; one I would have been glad to be rid of whatever that meant for Jude. Now, I am equally obsessed with my mortal queen, but rather than having just my thoughts occupied with her, I feel a feral desperation to be near her, to set things right with her.

It is not uncommon for me to be followed, but when I hear soft steps behind me, the last person I expect to turn and see is Jude. Her brown eyes widened in surprise, as if she was not the one following me. We both stare at each other for a half a second too long, before Jude mumbles something and turns to leave. I take her by the arm before she can take a single step away. I won’t let her get away a second time.

“Ask me how hideous you look tonight,” the words tumble from my mouth before I can stop them.

She turns back to face me. I loosen my hold on her arm, but let my hand linger until she decides to brush it away.

“This again?” She asks, sounding more tired than annoyed. I didn’t realize how much I missed her voice.

Desperate to hear her again, I reply, “I can’t. You look like a knight from a story tonight.” A filthy story, perhaps.

Jude’s cheeks pinken as she shifts away from me. If I wasn’t afraid to lose her, I might have found her unease at my closeness cute.

“I’m glad to see the kingdom is still in one piece.” Jude acknowledges, changing the subject away from her. The distance between us feels infinitely greater than the foot of space physically separating us. I’d give anything to embrace her now.

“I had help,” I state simply. It is the truth. The Court of Shadows kept tabs on everyone, friends and enemies, and the Living Council for all the headaches they cause me, they did their job as well.

“Nicasia?” Jude didn’t try or simply failed to hide the accusation in the question.

I sigh heavily and take a seat on one of the garden’s benches. “Ahh that. Yes, it is about time we talked.” I motion for her to join me, to which she refuses.

“I don’t want to hear anything about the two of you. I understand we married out of political strategy, I won’t hold you to human standards of monogamy.” Jude echos my sigh, “After your letters, I thought… Well, I misunderstood the situation.”

My core twists at the way her voice trembled on the words. When did her pain stop being cruel amusement and instead became a twin knife that hurts us both?

“I meant every word in those letters” I murmured softly. How many times had I imagined this conversation before?

Anger burns across her face, “So, what? You got bored of waiting for me to return from the exile YOU-” she jams her pointer finger into my chest hard enough to bruise, “ordered! Maybe next time make sure your letters are actually delivered or perhaps don’t send me away in the first place.”

I stand, challenging her anger with my own. “You think I wouldn’t have waited? I went to bring you home. I saw you dancing with the mortal. Don’t pretend I was the first to stray.”

I expected more anger, denial perhaps, but not... confusion?

“What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t been with anyone else,” Jude yells exasperated.

“The blond male. I came to see you and…” I trail off when Jude laughs suddenly. “What could possibly be funny?”

She covers her face with her hands, shaking her head side to side, “Cardan, you saw me with a friend. Nothing ever happened between us, ever.”

Shame washes over me like a tidal wave. I had returned from that trip thinking Jude had made her decision to forget me and stay behind. I had walked straight into a revel and drank every drop of wine in sight. Nicasia found me a few hours later laying in the grass outside the castle and when she came near I did the one thing I thought would make me feel better.

Nicasia had been the first to notice me, my first real friend then lover. After Jude, I thought she could be the thing I needed again, but I was wrong. It didn’t take long for me to realize it would never be as it was before because my heart still belonged to Jude. If I had only spoken to Jude that night in the mortal world, none of this would have happened.

“I believed the reason for your continued absence was because you were still mad. I thought I could go to the mortal world and convince you to come home, but I saw you with the mortal man. I did not handle the thought of you with another well. Nicasia was there when I got back and… I let her into my bed, but it was you that I thought of every moment you were gone.”

Several emotions ripple across her face before she quickly schooled her face into the impenetrable mask she wears around others. She wears around me too. I continue before the fear of her rejection can stop me.

“There are no tricks within my words, so please hear me when I promise you, Jude, mortal High Queen of Elfhame, it is you I love. My heart is yours and forever will be. There will be no other’s, and if you choose to have me again, it will only be you.”

I raise my hand to cup her face and watch as her eyes flutter close. My name falls off her lips like a plea and I think it might be the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. I lower myself to meet her soft lips. Her hands soon find the front of my jacket and I don't fight when she tugs me closer to her.

Without breaking the kiss, I use my free hand to grip her lower back and pull her back into the garden seat with me. On my lap, Jude opens herself up to me and I greedily take in more of her, missing the taste of her. I can’t help but continue to caress her body with my fingertips, long after we break to catch our breath. I place a series of kisses along her neck, each more drawn out than the last before I speak the cruel fact still on my mind, “of all my terribleness, the worst thing I ever did was what I did to you.”

It hurts knowing I can speak those words aloud. I reach up to wipe a stray tear that has fallen from her eyes.

“Will you have me again, Jude?” My heart pounds in the wake of the question. I watch as she considers it. Truthfully, I wouldn't blame her if she refused me, but it would be torturous to have her so near and not mine.

Slowly, she gives a subtle nod and I don’t hide my sigh of relief. She stares at me for a second longer, before smiling, “I love you, Cardan."

I capture her lips again, finding her more addictive than the sweetest wine.

“My sweet nemesis, how glad I am you have returned.”

Tag List: @wafflesandschemingfaces​ 

If anyone else would like to join the list, let me know! 

#jurdan #jude x cardan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #cardan pov #tfota #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #the folk of the air fanfic #jurdan fanfic #jude and cardan #nicasia #post-wicked king #jude's exile #cardan's letters #just jurdan things #the high king and queen of elfhame #how the king of elfhame learned to hate stories #i knew you'd come back to me #taylor swift inspired #betty james august

[gucciwins]

it’s your birthday?

As luck would have it you once again find yourself in a breakout room with Harry

Word count: 3296

A/N: Hello friends, it’s a new semester and it felt only right to continue breakout room, a story that was well loved by you. The inspiration once again came to me during class and also because it’s Harry’s birthday. Thank you to the lovely @soullikestyles for reading this over. Here it is, enjoy!!!

I hope you love this, it is a continuation from Breakout Room 

Please shoot me a message of what you thought!!!!

i love you, take care xx 

_____

It's the start of a new semester. It's safe to say you did not make any friends last semester due to this ongoing pandemic, but what you did manage to get was a 3.9 G.P.A for the Fall semester. It was probably because you did not leave your apartment, and when you did, it was to go grocery shopping with your roommate, who would be dead without you because, as she liked to put it, you're the chef, and she's the taster. 

Well, you maybe did make one friend. 

Harry Styles.

He was the person to talk to you during a zoom breakout room in your women's gender studies course.

Sure, you were never in the same room again, but you might or might not have pinned his face during one of the professor's long ramblings that is no longer related to the course. 

He was pretty to look at; you would never deny that. 

No, with the floppy curls that he almost always seemed to run his hand through, then stopping when one of his rings got caught in a knotted ringlet. His camera would instantly turn off, and in thirty seconds, he was back as if nothing had happened. The glasses framed his face just right, making his eyes look soft and inviting. Also made his dimples stand out. He almost always wore a different colored cardigan. Your favorite from the semester was when he wore a multicolored cardigan. That looks like it was knitted; there was a hole by his heart. Honestly, you were hoping he had, would have made him even more endearing. 

Also, might one day ask him to make you one, or he could even teach you. You're a fast learner and have patience. 

He's got a great choice in clothing from what you was able to observe in such a short time—also a lovely personality. 

After his initial email, you decided to answer, thus creating a chain of messages back and forth. He was honestly funny, and that was just on paper. He had asked for her number and said no, and he respected that. It doesn't mean they never helped each other in the class; Harry asking for more help than Y/N. She sent him over her notes and explained the readings he found harder to grasp. 

As soon as finals week hit, she received her last email from him with the subject as Goodbye. It took you by surprise, and you erased the draft you had waiting for him that had your phone number wanting to keep talking to him. Still, clearly, he thought of them as just classmates for the semester, so without even opening his last email, you trashed it. 

You felt guilty about it, so you then transferred it to your archives, where it sits with other unwanted emails. 

_____

The holidays are over, and since you could not make the trip home, you celebrated with Amy, your roommate. You both help each other buy your family's presents, looking for the best discounts and adding extra items to get the free shipping. Together, well, mostly you as she handed you pieces of tape you wrapped present after present in brown wrapping paper. It was harder to tear and more comfortable to decorate in any way you wanted. On each box, it had everyone's name written in beautiful handwriting, courtesy of you. Then you would add snowflakes or stripes to make it stand out. 

It was a success from their looks when each gift was open through the zoom call. 

The month break flew by, and the next thing you knew, it was time to be back at your desk for hours of learning. It was fun until it wasn't sure there was a lot to look forward to, but you would miss sleeping all day and eating snacks in bed with no fear of forgetting to submit an assignment. 

This semester you had four major courses. Psychology of Personality and Psychology of Aging were the two courses you were most looking forward to. You decided on taking the women's gender studies class called Politics of Sexuality. You had gotten the recommendation from the department's head to take it and did so without a second thought. Yes, fifteen units was a lot, but you were close to graduating, and you knew you could handle it. 

The first week flew by because it was merely going over the syllabus. You had your camera on, but you did not bother to look at your other classmates. Sasha, a fellow person in your major, would be your study partner as she had been all semester. Sasha might not always be in the class section, but she did take the same professors and courses. It makes studying and taking notes easier. You know you won't always have Sasha, but having a study partner has ever made you do better. 

February 1st. The start of the second week of the semester. 

You woke up at seven, got the tea that Amy had ready for you, and were sitting at your desk by eight. Your professor droned on about the first chapter of the book. You felt confident knowing you understood the significant points. 

It's 11:30, and your second course of the day is going to start. You were not looking forward to the class simply because Dr. Rossi had warned you he would be putting you into breakout rooms of two. That person would be your partner for the semester. You had a project due at the end of the semester, and he wanted you to be acquainted with someone rather than having a person working alone. 

You sat there, Baby Yoda ceramic mug in hand, as you waited for your breakout room to load and to see who you were destined to work with for the next fourteen weeks. 

There was a knock on your door that distracted you from seeing the video of someone else load. 

"Sorry, I know you're in class, but I was wondering when lunch was to see how big of a snack I should have." Amy shoots you a small smile. 

"No worries, Ames, I'm out at 12:45 and will need half an hour to cook, so roughly 1:30. Is that okay?" You tell her feeling a little awful, making her wait. 

"It's perfect. Have a good class." Amy shuts the door.

As you hear the click, you turn back to your computer, and they're staring at you in a lavender cardigan with a white shirt underneath is the one and only Harry Styles.  

His curls are shorter, meaning he recently got a haircut, and they are just growing back. You wished he had let it grow out, wanting to see how much more ruly they would have gotten.

You feel your face heat up, remembering you did not do your hair, instead of letting it sit messily in a low ponytail, small hair framing your hair. You were sure the black sweatshirt you had one had a hummus stain but too afraid to look down to check. You weren't even aware he was in this class; it shows you should be paying attention more to your classmates. 

He shoots you a small smile, and you grimace, trying to force one out, but you're still a bit shocked. 

You see his microphone go white, meaning he was about to speak. You leaned forward in anticipation, a bit desperate to hear his smooth accent through your computer speakers. 

"Hello, it's been a while." Harry raises his glasses to hold back his hair. 

You reach forward and unmute yourself. "Hello, Harry. It has been a while. It's a new year and everything." You joke. 

He chuckles, scratching his chin. You aren't sure what to do; it was never this awkward the first time you chatted. 

"Guess we're partners, huh." 

"Apparently." You sigh, a bit loud, forgetting he can hear you. 

"Ouch, don't need to sound too excited." He tells you not at all hiding his frown. 

"No, I didn't." You stop not knowing how to go back from that. "Sorry, that was rude of me." 

He nods, not saying anything more, and you take it as a sign to continue. 

"I-i, well, after our last class ended, I figured that was that. You said goodbye in the last email, so I figured that was the end of our friendship, if you can even call it that." 

"I thought my email would give the opposite impression, but not everything can translate as smoothly when talking." He tells you, which causes you to pause. 

"Your email literally said goodbye," You blurt out before you can stop yourself.

He hides his smile, "My subject said goodbye, the content said quite the opposite. You did read it, right?" 

You duck your head, not allowing yourself to meet his eye even through a computer screen, too embarrassed to be caught. "Well, no, I didn't. Hurt my feelings, just seeing the goodbye." You look up and see his eyes soften, giving you just a bit more courage to continue. "I've always struggled to make friends, I have like three good friends, and it's hard putting myself out there, and I didn't actually if you considered me a friend or not." 

"Y/N" He breathes out your name.

You stop him before he can continue. "Do you mind if I read it now?" 

Harry shakes his head. 

You restore down the zoom and open up your Gmail on the split-screen. You find it reasonably quickly; you look up at him to see him patiently sitting back chipping at his nails. They are a pastel yellow; it makes you smile, knowing just yesterday you went from that color to a deep red. 

[email protected] 

Subject: Goodbye 

Y/N, 

It's been enjoyable emailing back and forth. I honestly would not have passed this class without you. I think you are brilliant and if I had you in every course, I would finish with A's in them all. So, thank you for having the patience to teach me. 

Also, thank you for being my friend. I know we mostly talked about school work. Still, you did help me decide on what coat to buy for my sister, so I know that makes us friends, and I did help you get that switch for your little brother. (That was like trying to buy floor tickets for Lady Gaga.)

On another note, after emailing for twelve weeks, I was wondering if I could have your number. I would like the chance to give you a call and formally ask you on a date. I know we're in the middle of a pandemic, and dating is hard, but we can do zoom dates before we try in person. 

I understand if it's a no, but I am really grateful to have met you.

Your friend (although I do want to try to be more)

Harry Styles 

City Pointe Apt 32 (in case you want to send a care package, I would gladly return the favor)

"Oh, Harry," You inhale, "I'm so sorry." 

"No worries." He shrugs. 

You pause, thinking your next words. "I live in Rose Villa." Those were not the words you wanted to say, but you don't take it back. 

"That's across the street from my building." He gasps. "We could have run into each other." 

You nod. "Small world." 

Harry brings his focus back to something you skipped over. "I realize you didn't mention the part of asking you on a date." 

"Oh, I figured you over that now. It's been well over a month since I ignored your email." You grimace, starting to feel awful about it all over again. 

"I guess it was email abandonment this time." He jokes.

You laugh, and it gets Harry laughing as well. He was always good at that, making you laugh and not be so serious even if he didn't know it. 

"Y/N," Harry's voice was strong, no signs of laughter in his trace. You lock eyes as best you can through a computer screen. "I would still very much like to take you on a date."

A date with Harry. 

You want to say yes, but it's like you're frozen. 

"Can I say something else before you give me an answer?" You nod, waiting for him to go on. "Sarah Jones, do you know her?" 

Sarah Jones, you rack your brain trying to place her. 

The theater composer. She's written original tracks for the theatre department for the original plays they've done and remakes. She's won countless awards.

Sarah even won the talent show. Played a killer drum solo that no one else could ever think of topping. 

If you're honest, she's the definition of your girl crush. 

"We follow each other on social media. We met at a paint night; she was really easy to talk to." You tell him, remembering how sweet she was to you when she saw you walk in, and just as you were about to walk out, she introduced herself to you, asking to sit with you. 

He nods. "Sarah is my roommate's girlfriend. Mitch and Sarah practically live together; he's so in love with her it truly is the sweetest thing. Back to the point, she overheard me talking about you to Mitch and spoke how she knew you. Then I proceeded to stalk your Instagram on her account. I hope that's not weird." 

You laugh, and it causes Harry to calm down, "Not weird at all. I would have done the same thing, but as you can see, I rarely upload anything." 

"Well, the things you do have, I think, are wonderful." He rambles on explaining how your beach photo on a bike with a pretty pink basket was one of his favorites and how cute you look wearing sweaters. 

As endearing as Harry was being, you decided to put him out of his misery. "Harry," you interrupt. 

"Yes." 

"I'd love to go on a date with you." 

"You would?" He gasps in surprise. 

"Yes." 

"That's fantastic. I think this is the best birthday gift I could have received." He tells you, but you're stuck on the last thing he said. 

"It's your birthday?" 

Harry smiles sheepishly. "Yes." 

"Happy Birthday, Harry." You tell him softly, a big smile on your face.

A blush overtakes his face; you can tell he wishes to cover up his face with hands but holds back from doing so. "Thank you." 

"Do you have any plans?" 

"No, well. Mitch and Sarah are coming over for lunch in a bit. Then they are off to study at Sarah's for the week. Her roommates are gone for the week." 

You frown, not liking that he'll spend the rest of his birthday alone. 

"Would you-never mind" You stop yourself from being able to invite yourself over to celebrate with him?

"Hey, it's okay. Whatever you wanted to say, I wouldn't judge you, love." His voice was soft and reassuring. 

"Well, I'd love to come over and hang out with you if that's okay. I can make us dinner, I make delicious enchiladas. Also, my carrot cake is to die for." 

Harry is surprised at her offer but nods his head quickly. "That sounds wonderful, but you don't have to cook for me. We can order takeout."

She shakes her head. "Consider it my gift to you." 

"Well, okay. Is six okay for you?" He bites his lip, not believing this is happening.

"Perfect." 

You sit there smiling at each other. 

When a message pops up overhead, "You have five minutes left before we join back as a group."

Your eyes go wide, having forgotten you were in class. "We didn't even discuss the assignment." 

Harry shakes his head in laughter, a smile spreads over your face. He has an adorable laugh that just rings through your ears, and you can't wait to hear it in person. 

"We've got time, now that it seems we'll be getting to know each other better." 

You relax, settling a bit, you have weeks before the assignment is due.

"I'll email you my number, love. Easier to communicate for later."

"Sounds great." You respond. 

_____

It's five-fifty, and you're standing outside his door. You're more than a little nervous. You're wearing high waisted jeans paired with a black off the shoulder top with floral embroidered sleeves. You decided against a sweater knowing the short walk would keep you warm enough. Your mask is red, with three small hearts stitched on the lower right side. Perfect for February. 

You shift the items in your hand to the right and lift your hand up to knock. After three gentle knocks, you hear footsteps and take a step back. 

"Hi," Harry breathes out, a big smile on his face.

"Hello, Harry, happy birthday." 

"Thank you." He smiles wide, blessing you with his dimples. Definitely look better in person. "Please come in." He grabs some of the items from your hand and allows you to step in before locking the door behind you. 

"Your mask is lovely. Did you make it?" 

"I did!" You share excitedly. "My roommate, Amy, and I spent lots of our free time making a different kind. We took old shirts we no longer wanted and used for the material. It was a lot of trial and error, but we're pretty solid at it now. My embroidery could use some work, but I think it's lovely. 

"It really is. Would you make me one?" He asks, staring at you as you pocket your mask. No longer needing it in his home. 

"Yes, I'll send you pictures of the fabric I have, or you could come over, and I can teach you as well." You tell him, excited at the prospect. 

"Sounds like a wonderful date." You nod, feeling your body get warm at the word date because today could also classify as a date. 

Harry knocks you out of your head when calling your name. "Turned the oven on like you requested." He informs you. 

"Thank you, my mom showed me how to make them, but I learned about the melted cheese on my own. She wasn't a big fan of it, but everyone else I know loves it, so I hope you will as well." 

Harry grabs your hand and gives it a squeeze. "I'm sure it's wonderful." He bumps your shoulder gently. "Go finish up; I'll set the table." 

He pushes you into the kitchen, and you go in and place your stuff. Harry is whistling, settling down on the table two glasses and two forks when you turn back around towards him. 

Harry turns around just in time for you to wrap your hands around his waist. You fit perfectly in his arms, taking in his musky scent. "Happy birthday, Harry." You whisper against his chest.

He squeezes you tighter, leaning his head on top of yours. "Thank you, love." 

He pulls back, holding you by your shoulders. A big smile on his face, you reciprocate it feeling his happiness warm your heart. 

"Run along now; I'm starving." He jokes.

You walk backward, creating distance; as his left-hand trails down your right hand slowly until he's touching your fingertips, do you pull away. Although you, more than anything, wanted to hold his hand. You want to feel the weight of it in yours; you want to know if his hands are soft or calloused. How cool his rings will feel against your palm. All in due time. 

"I'm happy to be here." 

"Me too, love. Me too." 

It's safe to say you were more than luckily going to have yourself a valentine for the first time in a long time. 

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #fluff #harry styles fluff #zoom university #zoom online #harry styles writing #harry styles uni #my writing #harry styles fanfic

[fanficsbykay]

Seven Days

Summary: The Clique's Six annual reunion is coming up and so are a lot of secrets and changes. Can one week bring friends closer together, or further apart? Find out in Seven Days, based on the Mary J Blige song. Rucas Centric. Joshaya; Smarkle;

Word Count: 2,190 

Chapter 1:  A Friend of Mine

MONDAY

She tossed the thin dark purple cardigan on and listened to Maya rant about the inconvenience of their impromptu reunion. Riley giggled as Maya waved off a euphemism about Farkle and Isadora flying in late that evening. Riley grabbed her keys and shuffled Maya towards the front door. Maya groaned and leaned back into Riley’s arms purposely making it hard for the bubbly brunette to move her. 

“Maya,” Riley chastised and the blonde smirked. 

“Oh come on Riles, do we really need to go get party supplies? It's just us six!” Maya groaned. 

“Maya it's been a year since all six of us were together! Aren’t you excited to see our friends?” Riley pouted. 

“Yeah, I guess,” Maya said and rolled her eyes. 

Riley knew it was a front, and that Maya was just as excited as she was. Despite being close the clique six had spread out across the continent for college. Maya and Riley stayed true, and both got into NYU. While Riley went to Steinhardt for English Education, Maya found her calling at Tisch for Collaborative Art. Although in different programs, they became roommates in a cramped two-bedroom, a gift from their parents. Their friendship never wavered and if anything it got stronger over the last few years. As their junior year ended they wanted to celebrate with their best friends. In just mere months they would be college seniors, and then off to more school or careers. 

“Farkle got us a suite,” Riley teased and Maya grinned. 

“A suite? Okay, Minkus, guess that business degree is working after all,” Maya mused and stood up straight. 

As the girls found their place at NYU, Farkle and Isadora found their place at Stanford University. Although Princeton University was their goal, they both realized the move across the country would do them good. It was no surprise that both of them had done well successfully that they were graduating before their friends. Farkle in the fall will be attending Stanford Graduate School of Business and Isadora will start her Ph.D. program in Neuroscience. Another reason for their motley crew of friends to come together. 

“It's more like a graduation gift from his parents,” Riley said and led Maya out of their apartment. 

“I can't believe those two geniuses are already going to their second degrees, I barely think I am going to make it out of my bachelor’s,” Maya groaned as Riley locked the door. 

The two linked their arms together and Riley giggled. 

“Maya you're doing great in school, As and Bs,” Riley exclaimed. 

“It's only because I am actually interested in school now, why couldn't we just jump to college?” Maya asked as they walked down the stairs. 

“That's not how life works,” Riley said as they left the apartment building. 

Loud city noises blare down the streets and the crowds shuffled through masses of New Yorkers. Both girls leaped into the mass and followed the flow down the street. 

“I hope Party City isn't crowded,” Maya said as Riley smiled brightly. 

A benefit of having an apartment in Union Square was that everything was close by to them. They could pop in, get some supplies and grab lunch all within walking distance. 

“I doubt it, no major holidays, just some graduations in a few weeks,” Riley said. 

“So … we talked about Smarkle, is there a particular someone you would like to talk about before we see them?” Maya teased. 

“Zay? I heard he might double major,” Riley shrugged. 

“What is he? Can he?” Maya asked as Riley nodded. 

“I mean he is a dance major, maybe he wants to do something in that field but more,” Riley said. 

“Sounds like a lot,” Maya mused. 

“I know but it's Zay, and Duke is letting him do it, why not take advantage?” Riley said 

Zay’s college choice was a surprise to all of them. They knew Zay was eclectic and loved to do different things, but they all assumed he would go back to Texas. He threw them for a loop when he decided to go to Duke University in North Carolina for Dance. They knew he liked ballet but didn't think he would take it on as a major. 

“Wait! You deflected! You know who I was talking about Riles. A certain cowboy down in Texas,” Maya teased. 

Lucas. 

Lucas’s choice was no surprise to Riley, she knew what he was interested in since they were in the seventh grade. So when he announced he was going to Texas A&M Riley was excited for him no matter what. They decided it was in their best interest to break up and stay as friends. Allowing one another to explore these new waters without being weighed down by a significant other. However, it didn't matter to Riley as she never found anyone to match Lucas on any level. Sure she went on dates and flirted around, but nothing was serious. No one was able to make her feel like he did. 

“Lucas?” Riley asked. 

“You said Huckleberry’s name, that's a big step for you,” Maya said with a grin. 

“I always say his name, it's you who insist on these nicknames, Maya we’re twenty-one now. Don't you think it would be a good time to drop the nicknames?” Riley asked. 

“What and miss out on annoying moral compass, do you know me Riles?” Maya fake gasped and Riley chuckled. 

“Yes I do, and to answer your question, there’s nothing to talk about, Lucas and I are friends, with the exception of Smarkle, we are all friends,” Riley said and directed Maya into Party City. 

“You two were always more than just friends,” Maya said as Riley dragged her towards balloons. 

“Why are we getting party supplies again?” Maya groaned. 

“Well while we are just becoming seniors, Farkle and Izzy are graduating. I thought it would be nice to have something like a little congratulations thing during our reunion,” Riley said as she perused gold and silver balloons. 

“Do we have to get gifts?” Maya asked. 

“I’m getting them cards, and I got them each something small, just a congrats thing. You don't have to, you know how I feel about gift-giving,” Riley said with a smile. 

“You love it you fruit loop, I guess I’ll look for something here,” Maya sighed and followed Riley down the aisles. 

As the girls scoured the store for supplies, they kept the conversation light about their friends. Catching one another up on information to prepare for the annual reunion. Maya laughed as she picked up small party favors and found two keychains for her friends. 

“Look one for each of them, the dollar sign for Farkle, and the brain for Izzy,” Maya said as she jingled them. 

Riley playfully rolled her eyes and smiled at her best friend. However, she knew the two would love Maya’s gift and treasure it because that is what friends do. 

“I have a special order to pick up,” Riley said as she walked towards the counter. 

“Special? Oh, Riles, what did you do?” Maya asked as Riley talked to the cashier. 

Riley emptied her basket of balloons, candy, and streamers. She smiled as the cashier revealed a bag with Stanford University decorations. 

“Of course,” Maya said. 

“It's going to be so much fun,” Riley said as the cashier rang up her things. 

“Fruit Loop, look I am going to the other cashier to pay for this, don't get any more supplies,” Maya chastised as she walked away. 

Riley playfully rolled her eyes once more and smiled as the Cashier scanned the items. Riley’s eyes caught a glimmer of gold and she saw a gaudy gold plastic necklace with a horseshoe. She bit her bottom lip in complementation and took the plunge. 

“Could I get that too?” Riley said as she pointed to the necklace. 

The cashier rang it up and gave her the total. Riley swiped her card with no hesitation and smiled as she was handed the bags. Maya had sauntered over with her small bag and raised her eyebrows. 

“Got everything?” Maya asked as Riley nodded. 

Riley sat at her desk as she edited her final paper for class. One click and she would officially be done with her junior year. However, she couldn't stop herself from continuously changing the ending. Something felt off, and she didn't know what it was. She glanced at the clock and saw it was well past 11:00 PM, and she was exhausted. She rubbed her eyes and stifled a yawn. 

Her phone vibrated and she glanced at it. It was a text but who it was, surprised her. She didn't know why he would text her so late but he had to have a reason. Sure they chatted outside the group chat but it was mundane, and not so late. 

Lucas: Hey you up?

Riley: Unfortunately, is everything ok?

Lucas: Yeah can I call?

Riley hesitated but ultimately confirmed that he could. Before she knew it, her phone was ringing in her hands. As she took a deep breath she picked up the call. 

“Hey,” She whispered.

“Hey,” Lucas responded. 

“Hey,” She repeated. 

“I thought we grew out of that,” He chuckled. 

“I thought so too,” Riley said as she leaned back in her seat. 

“Sorry to call so late it's almost midnight over there right?” He asked. 

“Yeah but it's fine I was up, I was working on my final paper,” Riley said as she scrolled through the document. 

“Riley Matthews hasn’t finished her homework, oh no the world is ending,” He joked. 

“Oh stop it, I have till tomorrow midnight to submit it but I wanted it done before … the reunion,” Riley said. 

“That's the Riley I know, am I interrupting? Do you want to finish it?” Lucas asked as he cleared his throat. 

Riley paused and leaned back in her chair. A part of her did want to finish the paper, but the other part of her wanted to know why he called, especially this late. 

“I think my brain is fried, I know something is wrong, I just can't put my finger on it, I can talk. What's up?” Riley said as she tried to make her voice sound light. 

“I kind of wanted to hear your voice,” Lucas said, his voice deepening. 

“My voice?” Riley questioned. 

“Yeah … I just needed to hear it. Talking to you has always been easy Riley, and I thought I would call one of my best friends,” Lucas said. 

Riley could tell something was wrong, but just like her paper, she couldn't put her finger on it. She twirled some hair around her finger and listened to him. 

“What did you want to talk about? Tomorrow?” Riley asked. 

“I’m excited to come home,” Lucas said and Riley could feel her heart race slightly. 

“Texas isn't home?” Riley asked. 

“No it isn't, not when everything I love is back in New York,” Lucas said 

“Like your friends,” Riley said. 

“Yeah but a particular one in mind. Plus I wouldn't feel so lost, and I think … I need to be found” Lucas said his voice lofty and Riley bit her lip. 

“Are you okay Lucas, you sound … off,” Riley asked as he chuckled. 

“You definitely know me the best, yeah I’m good, I had a drink and I think … it's getting to me. Don't mind me, I’m sorry for interrupting. Goodnight Riley,” Lucas said and hung up the call before Riley could say anything. 

Riley looked at the phone puzzled at what just happened. She thought about waking Maya but she decided against it. Instead, she crafted a long but well-intended text to the Texan. She needed him to know she wasn't judging him and that she was there for him. 

Riley: Hey, you sounded off. I know you said you drank but, it didn't seem like that was what was going on? You know you can talk to me always if you want to call back we can talk about what's bothering you. I hope you're okay Lucas, I’m always here for you. 

Riley sent the message and returned to her paper. She glanced at her phone every few seconds and waited to hear it vibrate back but it didn't. She sighed and started to type up her conclusion, so she could finally finish her paper. As she saved the document and uploaded it to her college portal, she checked her phone. Still nothing. As she submitted the paper, she got up from her seat and went to the bathroom to do her bedtime routine. 

Lucas crossed her mind with each task, and she wondered if tomorrow it would be easier to talk. She hoped all was alright, and she wished he would have told her what's wrong. As she finished her routine she bounded for her room. She flicked her light off and crawled into bed exhausted from the day. She grabbed her phone to plug it in to charge when she saw a new alert. She swiped through to see a response from Lucas.

Lucas: I love you. 

#rucas fanfiction #rucas fanfic #Rucas #gmw fanfic #GMW #girl meets world fanfiction #girl meets world #joshaya #smarkle #riley matthews #riley x lucas #lucas friar #maya hart #Josh Matthews #isadora smackle #farkle minkus #zay babineaux #charlie gardner #gmw fanfiction

[wonderlandhatter]

Will you read to me?

Pairing: Spencer x femReader

Summary: You're feeling unsettled after a case, so Spencer helps you get some sleep and get a smile back on your face.

Word count: 1863

Warnings: fluff (is that a warning idk), mentions of an unsub, feeling overwhelmed after an unsub touches you (just your hand and waist nothing in detail). Tiny bit of angst I think mostly fluff though

A/N: Ok so this is my first attempt at writing a fic, it ended up being longer than I thought it would be, anyways if you would like to give me some feedback that would be greatly appreciated, hope someone out there enjoys this, I really liked writing it.  Ooh also if I missed any warnings pls tell me. 

A/N2: Hey so my old account got deleted so I'm reposting my fics if you have a sec I would appreciate it if you could boost it so i can try and get to where i was, thank you.

It had been a tough case, especially for you, the victimology fit you in every way and so you had been used to draw the unsub out, nothing had gone wrong but you could still feel his hand where he had touched yours, his alluring presence was lingering around you , all you wanted to do was go home and shower this feeling off but first you had to get there.

Unfortunately, there was still 2 hours left in the flight. So, until you did get home you would settle for sleep hoping time would pass faster, though you just couldn’t stop your mind from thinking, well overthinking. Spencer noticed this and it hurt him to see you like this he himself knew nothing had happened but he didn’t like the thought that you had even gone near that creep, to think about what he would have done to you, if the circumstances were different.

He couldn’t imagine what he would do if something had happened, you and him were close, very close, you had first bonded when he noticed your Dr who coin purse on your first day at the BAU, he hadn’t gotten a chance to say anything because at that moment Garcia bubbled into the bullpen announcing that they have a case. but when he saw it again on the jet, he couldn’t resist but to ask if you like the show, you love the show and your face visibly lit up at the mention of it as did his, you both exchanged a few words before Derek piped in to ask if that was the show with the flying phone booth but before Spencer had the chance to correct him, you did. ‘well firstly it’s a Tardis which stands for Time And Relative Dimensions In Space, secondly it isn’t a phone booth it’s a police box.’ Once you finish you simply smiled at him but before he could answer you piped up again early. ‘ ooh ooh and do you want to know why it’s a police box’, Derek honestly couldn’t care less but he couldn’t bare to take away the joy in your face that was brought by this nerdy little show you clearly loved, Spencer might also have been giving him a look that said ‘don’t you dare say no’, so he decided to indulge you, ‘sure kid tell me why it’s a police box’. Spencer saw your face light up even more if it was even possible, and so you began’ So the Tardis is supposed to change in appearance depending on where it  is because of a component that is called ‘the chameleon circuit’ but something happened to it so it no longer works and is stuck as a police box, its explained in the first Dr who series in an episode called An Unearthly child. Oh and…..’ by this time Derek has lost interest and was only half listening but Spencer’s full attention was on you as you talked about something that clearly brought you joy, at this point he decided  to chime in and so you two spent the rest of the jet ride to wherever it was you were going discussing your favourite episodes, plots and Drs. And so, a beautiful friendship began to bloom.

As spencer’s memory of that day came to an end he couldn’t help but be visibly sad at how much of a contrast your feeling were to that day, there was no smile so big you had dimples no hands moving around animatically  as you talked and no interrupting your own sentences as you thought of something else you thought needed to be said. And certainly, no you trying to convince him that David tenant was the best Dr. now there was only an uneasiness about you, you looked sad and in slight distress.

Spencer couldn’t keep sitting there doing nothing, he wanted to take those feelings away no, he needed to take them away, he wanted to go over to you and hold you, place you on his lap and let you bury your face into his cardigan like you had done so many times before on your movie nights, but that wouldn’t be appropriate while the entire team was around, and he didn’t want to make you feel worse by being so forward so instead he stood up from his seat opposite Derek and J.J and made his way to you on  the sofa holding his book, you were sat  in the corner looking so small, holding a now cold cup of tea.

Your mind was anywhere but there so it took Spencer calling your name quietly before you realised anyone was sitting there, and as you saw him all those bad feelings were drowned out by those of joy and love, they weren’t gone but their overwhelming words were dulled, Spencer just had that effect on you, you weren’t completely sure when your feeling changed from hey that’s my friend, to hey that’s my friend who I would like to kiss, marry, and have babies with. Maybe it was the day he showed you how to do physics magic, or the day he brought you coffee every morning for 2 weeks because he spilled one the previous day on your white shirt, or maybe the first time he hugged you, you knew he wasn’t big on hugs but after a tough case for everyone he could see you needed it and honestly once he was there holding you he never wanted to stop, after that he wouldn’t hesitate to hug you, you both waved it off as friendly but you both just wanted to be as close as possible, maybe when you came to terms with the fact you would both try your best to have physical contact with each other, be it holding hands or falling asleep on each other’s shoulder is when you knew you wanted a lot more.

You were brought back by Spencer’s voice, ‘are you ok’,’  ‘oh,  ah yeah sorry , my minds just wandering I guess’ you said looking down at your hands feeling bad for lying, he clearly knew you weren’t he was a profiler after all, and as you stared at your hand you   once again remembered his lingering touch on your left hand, before your mind could wander further Spencer held your hand ,he spoke up  ‘ don’t think about him, I know that’s what your doing , but he’s gone now were he cant hurt anyone else, were he can’t hurt you’. You looked away from him feeling silly ‘I know that, I don’t even know why I’m acting like this it’s ridiculous honestly he didn’t do anything he just touched my hand and waist but the thought of his hands on me just makes me feel sick, it’s like I can still feel him and I just want to wash it off and that’s all I can think about every time I try to sleep, I just want to sleep and forget about it spence’ as you said this you subconsciously scratched the back of  your hand where his had been, spencer took both your hands once again before you could hurt yourself,  ‘hey y/n, it isn’t silly, after seeing the crime scenes and knowing what he did to those women it is perfectly reasonable to be feeling like this’ you nod at his words and lean your head on his shoulder as you take in his familiar comforting smell, ‘thanks Spence’ you hear him hum in response as his head leans on top of yours.

You sit in comfortable silence just being with each other not even realising he hadn’t let go of your hand, it isn’t like you had made a move to either, and neither of you were planning on it. The jet was silent as everyone was either asleep, or going through some files, it was peaceful, it was wonderful.

You were the first to break the silence ‘what are you reading’ , ‘Alice’s adventures in wonderland’, you looked up at him from your place on his shoulder with a soft smile and simply stated ‘that’s my favourite book, I have a copy in my desk right now’ , ‘I know, that’s why I’m reading it, ‘ his reason made your heart swell as he continued, ‘even though it Is considered a classic I’ve never actually read it, I must say I am enjoying it’, ‘how far along are you’, ‘about half way’. Truthfully Spencer could have been done with the book already even though he had started it at the beginning of the flight, however this book was different, this was your favourite, this one meant so much to you and so he wanted to take it all in, he wanted that feeling you get when you first read a line that impacts you, a feeling you only get once with that line, a feeling he was getting often in this book because he knew you loved it and so he loved it.

The silence was disrupted by a very large yawn coming from you, he must admit you looked very cute when you were tired (he may also love the fact you were wearing one of his cardigans that you had claimed as your, and you also had very cute sweater paws). ‘Here lie down’ Spencer said, you knew you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep so you asked, ‘will you read to me’ there was barely a beat before you felt the need to justify your request, even though you didn’t need to he would do anything you asked. ‘it’s just I don’t think ill be able to sleep, and your voice is very calming’, the last part you said quietly and felt a light blush on your cheeks, spencer simply smiled and simply answered ‘of course ill read to you’, and so you laid you head down on his lap and he began reading once you were fully comfortable, ‘would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?’’ ‘’that depends a good deal on where you want to get to,’’ said the cat………’’ and so Spencer kept reading to you, an you kept listening, his hand made its way to your hair and began to play with it while your hand drew lazy  nonsensical things  on his leg , and as you heard the words you had read a million times before, and as the man you held so much love for played with your hair all your worries and thoughts melted away and you slowly let sleep take over , you felt conflicted as you didn’t want to miss this, miss Spencer’s voice recite something that meant so much to you, it was like hearing a completely new story, but at some point you let it take over and so you were finally able to sleep, Spencer never stopped reading to you or playing with your hair in fear of disturbing your peace, he was so happy there was a smile back on your face, he would read to you every hour of every day if it meant seeing you smile.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #spencer rwid x reader

[sweetestlamb]

Leave the Door Open

Summary: He doesn’t hate having someone in his house. Having her in his house but he knows he should.

Author Notes: Vincenzo was a roller coaster this weekend and I LOVED it every adrenaline filled, angst inducing moment of it all. They are pining in 4K and I had to write this. I am salivating waiting for their first kiss. I hope it’s crazy and impulsive and filled with ineedyouithoughtilostyou energy, it might be cliché but I am a simple woman. Until then I present more domestic(sometimes horny) Chayenzo moments this was very freeform I went in with nothing and just let my brain go crazy. There’s some angst again LOL oops

It’s unnervingly easy to get used to, having another person in his space despite his years of solitude and purposely pushing others away. Women had tried to sleep over before, sweat clinging to their naked skin as they coyly brushed a finger under the sheet trying to entice him to let them stay. It never worked. Not once. Sex was one thing- he loved being in control and hearing his name breathless on their lips as they writhed and screamed on his silk sheets- but sleeping over was a completely different animal and he was never stupid enough to give them that much leeway. It was dangerous for them to think this was something more than it was, he had an itch and they could scratch it. There were no feelings involved, at least from his end. 

So when she showed up on his doorsteps and the urge to drag her into his arms overwhelmed him that should have been his first warning, danger danger do not proceed. 

But she pushed past him before he could close the door in her face and unfortunately at the same moment he had a spasm in his hand and hesitated for just one second allowing her enough time to bulldoze her way into his apartment. He had contemplated kicking her still out but the look on her face stopped him in his tracks, she looked scared- ridiculously so. Even as she stuttered out nonsense about the suspicious hoteliers who wanted to harm her and made a show of swinging her bag as she told the story of the man breaking the lock on her hotel room, he could see the slight tremble in her fingers. 

She was always a lightning rod of energy but that night it had been different. Her movements had been panicked and the urge to protect her overrode his self preservation. 

It was a clear erroneous mistake on his part. 

She’s comfortable around him, that much becomes clear all too fast when he wakes up to her swaying in the kitchen over a boiling pot on the stove- some kind of soup, he can smell the aroma of miso wafting across the room- but what catches his attention is her clothes, or lack of. 

There is miles and miles of bare skin from his angle on the ground, her loose sleep shorts barely covering her legs and he raises an eyebrow as he takes in the top half of her body. Her wet hair drips onto the flowing pristine white shirt that is peeking out from beneath a cardigan. She’s taken a shower. Just moments ago, she had been naked in his shower, water cascading down her slim body curving over her breasts and sliding down her flat stomach in long slow streams until it reached her wet....

“Oh you’re awake! I made soup, let’s eat before work.” She brightly calls out to him, using his ragged oven mittens to transfer the steaming pot over to the low rising table in the center of his tiny living room. 

His eyes savor her every move as she flounces over to him in that annoying way that he is starting to find cute. She carefully folds her legs beneath her bottom as she joins him on the ground, her smooth makeup free face coming into his line of vision. He’d always assumed that it was her lip tint making her mouth so red and plush and so goddamn alluring, but even bare the twin petals are too much for his sleep laden brain to handle. He sits up curling his blanket in his lap, balling up the material to better hide his little morning problem. He almost hopes this is a dream, it wouldn’t be the first time she visited him in one. They usually ended in sinuous screams and naked limbs twisting but sometimes they were like this, just simple moments that made him wake up with an ache in his chest. Those dreams terrified him the most. 

“Yah! Are you listening to anything I’m saying?” Her voice cuts through the arousal thick fog in his brain, light pats on his cheek rousing him from his untoward thoughts. “What are you thinking about anyway? Why are you so distracted?” Her eyes narrow as she glances at him, slowly descending down his body almost reaching his groin and he flushes red coughing loudly before quickly moving closer to the table, hiding his lap entirely from her wandering eyes. 

Their eyes meet in a tense lock and she looks curious and something darker that he has been seeing in her eyes the more they work together. He watches swallowing a groan as she leisurely licks her lips chasing the drops of soup that have escaped. 

They don’t have time for this. There is so much to do and a part of him fears that she is using him as a distraction because she’s scared about her break-in, despite his constant warnings it had been her first real experience with how far Babel was willing to go to silence them, the first time she was in the line of fire. He had been her “hero” and that was evidently confusing her, making her think he was something better than he was. Contrary to the lie he had cowardly told her, he was nothing but a murderer. Once she saw him for what he truly was, she would want nothing to do with him- she was still a good person after all underneath her armor and brazen attitude. 

He wants her and that is exactly why he can’t have her. 

Those thoughts knock any desire promptly out of his body, he couldn’t forget that he wasn’t worthy of love. 

Problem finally resolved he stands up, “Sorry I’m not a morning person. I need to use the bathroom, thank you for the breakfast. I’ll be back.” He can feel her eyes on him the entire way to the bathroom, those huge doe-like eyes that make him want to be a better man, but surely it’s too late for someone like him. 

Right? 

They had separated after work, him meeting up with Mr. Cho secretly to discuss the fate of the gold, it was another long conversation that left them with more complications rather than solutions and he can see the frustration on the other man’s face. He will have to keep an eye on that in case it becomes something problematic. 

Something he has to handle, regrettably. 

He yanks at the stiff ball of his necktie loosening it as he pushes his key into the lock and presses the door open, he hears her laughter before he sees her almost tripping on her black high heels carelessly discarded at the door. He pauses with a rumble, “First she breaks into my house and now she almost kills me at my own front door,” with a sigh he straightens the shoes, slipping off his own and stepping into his house slippers. 

His heart lurches at the first sight of her, she’s wrapped up in the blanket he had placed around her quivering shoulders the night of the break in, only her head visible from the swaddle. She’s watching some variety show he has never watched but knows is popular here, a can of beer thankfully on a coaster on the table and too many empty bottles of soju. She turns to look at him when she senses his presence, that also disarms him because he is a man who can go undetected if he pleases and he had not made a sound upon his entry, yet she still knew he was here. 

Then she makes him weak in the knees when she shoots a soft smile his way, her rosy lips slightly upturned but its the glow in her eyes that captivates him, those dark orbs come to life when they land on him as if they were waiting for him to flush with life and vibrancy. 

“You’re home!” She calls out, still beaming at him and he stands frozen in the line of fire. She casually pats the cushion next to her, motioning him over as high pitched loud voices patter out from his TV. 

Home. He has hardly ever used that word himself, long given up on the idea of having a place to call home. But seeing her like this, a fire that had been snuffed out a long time ago starts to rekindle, a desire he had long suppressed starts to bubble back to the surface. 

I should leave. 

He thinks foolishly, but he finds himself walking over to her, skin pebbling when a warm small hand reaches out and drags him the rest of the way from his suspended form.  

“What took you so long? Why didn’t you answer my calls? I wanted you to get us some soju.” She snuggles into his arm as if this is normal for them, and with an urgent awakening he realizes that it is. Constant and casual touches flash in his memory, his hand on her shoulder as he escorts her way, her hands on his back as she carries his intoxicated body, arms wrapped around each other as they walk away from the scum that is Babel. His hands always find her body as if it’s a heat seeking missile and not once has she pushed him away, on contrary she moves into his touches and returns them just as frequently. As if they belong to each other, as if they are each other’s to touch. 

What game exactly are they playing? 

He has never lost before but suddenly it feels like his defeat is imminent. 

“You already drank all the soju in the fridge? Are you an alcoholic? Should I have you admitted?” He grumbles trying to diffuse the situation but she chuckles at his words, resting her head on his shoulder now as she peers up at him with glossy eyes. His control wavers, fluttering like a flag in the wind. 

“After everything I’ve done that’s the thing you want to get me admitted for?” She teases giggling into his collarbone and her breath ignites a flame on his skin that spreads like wildfire. “Oh. Why are you so red?” 

He jolts up, only feeling marginally guilty when she falls head first onto the couch with his sudden disappearance. When she glares up at him he has to smother a smile at the cute affronted look on her face, he is a mafia member he shouldn’t use words like “cute” but he’s constantly breaking his rules because of her. 

He escapes to his bedroom, surprisingly pigeon feather free the window securely closed for once and he looks back towards the living room with a smile, she was full of surprises. With a groan he pops his shoulder, letting the day’s tension melt away as he takes off his suit piece by piece, breathing easier when he unknots the tie and tosses it to his bed. When he is down to his boxers, he ambles over to his dresser taking out his silk pajamas- she loved to tease him about them but after running a sneaky hand over his arm, she has admitted that they felt nice on your skin- he had desperately wanted her to keep going. Dragging the bottoms on first he slides on the top, fingers on the top button when his bedroom door bursts open making him still his movement. 

“Oh, I forgot to tell you that I ordered fried chicken that’s why I needed soj...nnngghh” her words trail off into nonsense as she sputters at him, eyes immediately locked on the lower half of his body and he almost laughs at her wide eyed stare before she walks closer, a hand outreached as she penetrates his skin with her unblinking stare. He can see the red blush spread across her bridge of her nose and he wonders if it’s from the alcohol she has consumed or if it’s something else? 

She answers his questions with another step toward him, unflinching beneath his hard stare and he instinctively recoils, stepping back out of her reach but she double steps until they are inches apart, her fingertips hovering above his abs and then she closes the distance, stroking the ridges on his stomach making him groan, unable to contain the deep sound and he grabs her hand. 

He can’t let his go any further. 

“What are you doing? Haven’t you heard of knocking? What if I was naked?” 

The blush covers her face completely at his words and he watches fascinated as her pupils dilate and a hungry look flashes across her pretty face. 

She doesn’t look scandalized at the idea. He has seen that look many times. From her, more times than he wants to confront. 

“Cha-young.” He states her name firmly, making her eyes snap away from his body at least this time she looks ashamed of herself for ogling him, but not tremendously so. It’s not lost on him that she hasn’t tried to leave the room once. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”  

It’s a warning. For both of them really. 

It can tell by the twitch in her eyebrow she sees it as a challenge, without a word she grabs him by his shoulder tugging him closer until they are flush, her soft breasts pressing into his firm stomach and he groans when he realizes he can feel the flesh too vividly, she’s not wearing bra. Fuck. 

“Who said I couldn’t finish it?” She retorts peering up at him with those gleaming eyes, too many emotions swirling around for him to pinpoint what is the driving force behind her actions.

His arms wrap around her waist, bringing her closer despite there being no room felt to do so. She moans prettily at his tight grip swaying unevenly into him. 

She’s drunk. 

He suddenly recalls all the empty bottles of soju on the table and he loosens his hold, he refuses to take advantage of her no matter how willing she seems right now, it’s the alcohol distorting her thoughts. He releases her waist and puts his hands between them. 

“You aren’t in your right mind right now, we should stop.” 

She shakes her head disagreeing, “I got drunk because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. The alcohol didn’t make me want you, it made me do something about it.” 

He blinks at the comment feeling like her words are intoxicating him. His thoughts are incoherent. 

“I know you want me too. Don’t push me away.” She pleads and he feels his resolve crumbling as he watches her bite at her lower lip, wringing her hands between them. She seems...nervous. Scared of his rejection. 

It’s not fitting on the Cha-young he has grown to know and l...like. 

With a sigh he steps forward much to her apparent shock, wrapping his arms around her in an awkward hug, complete with too rough pats on her back and he wonders if he did the right thing when she stands frozen in his arms but then she laughs brokenly before sniffling and burrowing her head into his chest. He can feel the wetness pooling on his skin, he hugs her tighter ignoring the voice in his head warning him that he’s letting her get too close.

it’s already much too late anyway. 

He lets her cry on him until he hears admittedly gross sniffles and he starts to fear for his skin, tears are one thing but mucus is another. He might like her but there is still a line, snot is his line. 

Thankfully, when he drags her away from him her nose isn’t running, just large tears streaming down her face. Looking at that face, he would probably allow her to drip snot on him; she looks so pitiful- it’s probably the first time she has allowed herself to feel her emotions and not put on a brave front for him. 

He longs to tell her that it isn’t necessary, ever. He doesn’t need her to put on a show, he will accept her no matter what there is no version of her that isn’t perfectly imperfect in his eyes. 

But he can never say those words to her. 

“Let me put my shirt on and I’ll meet you in the living room.” He pushes her lightly, playfully glaring and shooing her away when she doesn’t immediately leave taking one final moment to ogle his body. He tries not to preen and fails horribly, it’s hard not to when the woman he wants so badly clearly wants him too- at least physically. 

She whispers something that sounds like, “You don't have to,” and he raises an eyebrow watching her leave finally, with a long suffering sigh he stares down at his overly interested friend willing it away before dragging on his shirt. 

it’s going to be a long night. 

He can smell the delicious aroma of fried chicken when he finally exits the bedroom, she offers a leg to him as soon as he’s close enough and he easily accepts the food with a bite, letting her feed him until all that remains is the bone. 

“You eat so well.” She praises and he flushes in embarrassment at her words, or more accurately at the feeling that swells up in his stomach at her deceptively maternal words. Unaware of his thoughts she continues feeding him until the food is all gone and she is looking at him with a satisfied grin. 

He tries not to become too excited when she licks the grease from her fingers, before putting the bones on a plate. 

“Here, have some wine. The storekeeper said it was popular in Italy.” 

She places the rounded curve of the wine glass at his lip and he inhales the intoxicating scent, Barolo, he can already smell the sweetness of the Nebbiolo grapes that have been long fermenting, it’s not a cheap bottle of wine or easy to acquire, not even for him while living in their country of origin. She must have looked all over to find that particular brand here in Korea. 

He stares at her with a softness he has never felt for another, not even her late father. This is bigger and more consuming, the respect he felt for the man seems to pale in comparison to the bundle of emotions he feels for his daughter. 

“Thank you.” 

She simply stares, before returning his gaze and he accepts the wine glass by the stem tipping the deep colored liquid into his mouth, flavors dancing on his taste buds and he moans freely at the delicious taste. 

They are already sitting closely, too much so for just coworkers but she moves nearer at his subconscious response, their knees knock into each other. 

“Is it that good?” She whispers breathless, staring at his mouth. Again. 

He nods dumbly, freezing when he feels her hand on his thigh. 

“Let me see.” 

He watches in a daze as she leans closer to him, his eyes following her face as she draws nearer and then he closes his eyes, tired of fighting this magnetic connection between them, he’s only a man and a bad one at that, he’s not good enough to keep pushing her away. He waits impatiently to feel the swell of her lips on his and blinks his eyes open when he feels a sudden weight on the wine glass instead, her lips curl around the ridge where his lips had just been. Taking his hand in hers, she lifts the glass and tilts it back into her mouth swallowing the liquid in a deep gulp before she pushes it back towards him, with a loud smack of her lips before moving back to her spot on the cushion. 

“Mmmmm, you’re right that’s really good.” 

His tongue is heavy in his mouth and his brain isn’t functioning well enough to give a response beyond staring at her with his mouth gaped. 

“What’s wrong were you expecting something else? Did I get your hopes up? It’s not nice is it? ” She teases obnoxiously tsking at him body loose on the arm rest opposite of him and he knows exactly what she’s alluding to, recalls her face as he had leaned across the small space of the car. She hadn’t looked scandalized in that moment either. 

No, she looked ready to risk it all. He was the coward who couldn’t risk anything. 

He leans back with a huff, folding his arms. 

“I guess it’s true, revenge is a dish best served cold. Do you feel good about yourself?” He pushes his lips out, not pouting whatsoever. 

Mafia men don’t pout. 

She snickers from the left of him, poking at this cheek gleefully. 

“Oh my god, are you pouting? You big baby! You did it to me first!” 

He has no argument to that so he doesn’t refute the claim, he just silently glares at the tv not hearing anything despite the volume being quite loud. 

“Next time let’s both be brave enough to finish what we started.” 

He turns to look at her, blinded by the hopeful smile on her face. 

Maybe he’s wrong and it’s more than physical for her too. 

If that’s true, then he needs to sever this bond sooner rather than later. 

He doesn’t reply to her, drinking more wine to occupy his mouth and she doesn’t push him, humming before turning her attention back to the tv. 

He collects all her different laughs while they watch the mindless show, the soft giggles and the full body guffaws that make her slap his knee and spill over into his space, her long hair thrown across his lap. He gives up on stopping her and finds himself smiling at her joy, offering her water when she starts to choke from laughing too hard. He pats her back and rubs her until she can speak easily again, she’s seriously a hazard to herself and he tells her as much. 

She cheekily replies, “That’s why I need you then, you’re my Italian hero.” 

He refutes that claim but he knows that she’s right, he would destroy anyone who tried to harm one hair on her head. 

Moments later when he hears her light snores, he turns the tv off and makes to stand up and put some much needed distance between them but she halts him with a gentle plea, “Don’t leave me alone please.” 

He stills at her words, staring at her closed eyes praying that she’s dreaming about someone else. That those words aren’t for him, he doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to ignore her appeal. 

When her head falls heavily on his shoulder again, her body distractingly warm pressed against his own he knows he should push her away it’s the only way they can both get out of this unscathed. 

But his decision making is all but obliterated, so he stupidly leans his head onto hers, deeply inhaling the sweet vanilla of her shampoo instead, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer, dragging the blanket over both their bodies, silencing his heart when it jumps at her easily molding into him and softly murmuring his name from deep slumber, “Vincenzo.” 

Just for tonight, he will let himself have this. 

One night only. 

It’s all he can afford. 

#vincenzo #vincenzo cassano #hong cha young #Vincenzo #chaotic couple #killer couple #I love their pining it's everything

[definitelynotkatesblog]

Illustrated Man l Spencer Reid Fic

Pairing: Reader x Spencer Reid 

Category: Fluff

Summary: Spencer comes home from a particularly difficult case, and begins to doubt himself. Reader helps him unwind and helps paint a picture of all the great things about him.

A/N: Helloooooooo friends! Yet again, I thought of a single line of dialogue I really wanted to make work so I spit a thousand words around it to bring it to life lol. Anyways! This fic is free of reader pronouns and gender identifiers, so anyone can read this and make the “I”‘a their own ☺️

P.S. I’ll see what I can do about not disappearing again for weeks on end, but I make no promises

Content warning: None! Except Spencer has his shirt off? But that’s it!

WC: 2.4k

The sound of the door clicking shut and Spencer vacating his lungs of all air drew my head up from my book.

“You’re home!” I cheered, closing my book and getting up to greet him.

He lifted his satchel over his head and gave me a small smile that didn’t touch his eyes. I nodded, mostly to myself, knowing that this meant the case was harder than most. On nights like this, Spencer was hard to reach. I padded my way across the living room and wrapped my arms around him like he might slip away if I didn’t hold him tight enough.

I pulled his head down to rest on my shoulder as his arms snaked around me, wrapping himself in me, too. We stayed like that a while until he stood up and cupped my cheeks in his hands, bringing my face up for a kiss.

‘Hi,” he said softly.

I smiled into his palms. “Hi.”

I took his hands in mine and kissed his knuckles, then led him to our bedroom to get him out of his work clothes. I helped him out of his cardigan and dress shirt, then left him to do the rest while I got him some water. When I returned, he was laying face down across the bed in a pair of sweatpants. His head rested on his crossed arms, and turned to face me when I laid next to him on the bed. I propped my head up one arm and gave him a half smile.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

He thought for a moment before giving me a recap of the case, leaving out the gruesome details. I listened and ran my fingers across his back, alternating scratches with swirling patterns on the soft skin. Sometimes my hand would find itself at the nape of his neck and work through the hair there.

As he spoke, his voice became more resolved and tired. He worked so hard, but the things he saw, the things this job had put him through weighed on him. He was strong and incredibly smart, but just because he carried it well didn’t mean the load wasn’t heavy.

I took a deep breath and spoke gently, not wanting to offend him. “Maybe you can take some time off?” I suggested.

He shook his head, his chin brushing his hands folded under his chin.

“The team needs me. These victims and their families need me.”

I bit my tongue. I needed him, too. But this was hardly the time to bring that up.

“But this job,” he paused for a moment before continuing, “It takes pieces of me I can’t get back, and I’m scared all I am is the parts I’ve managed to pick up off of the ground.”

I closed my eyes and wished away the tears forming in my eyes. I heard him take a deep breath but he didn’t say anything else.

“I have an idea. Stay there.”

His head lifted and his eyes followed me around the room to our closet where my painting supplied resided.

“I’m going to paint you.”

“Paint me?”

I turned around, a towel in one hand and my box of paints and brushes in the other. “Yes. You’re gonna lay here and talk to me about anything in the world and I’m going to paint you.”

His eyes scanned the contents of my hands. I could see the gears in his head turning for a moment before he shrugged and gave a small nod.

“Okay.”

I ran a hand through his hair and bent down to kiss his forehead before climbing on the bed and straddling his thighs, setting my supplies on the towel beside us. “Talk to me.”

His head cocked to the side as he contemplated his answer.

“Not about work,” I clarified.

I felt his laugh beneath me. “Okay then, what would you like me to tell you about?”

I tapped my bottom lip with the handle of my paintbrush. “Hmmm. Read any good books lately?”

I could feel his smile without seeing it. If there was one thing Spencer loved more than saving lives and doing crossword puzzles in pen, it was reading. “I revisited some Ray Bradbury on the plane home,” he said.

“Mmm, tell me about it.”

He took a deep breath beneath me and began. “I re-read The Illustrated Man. It’s a compilation of short stories told through interactions between an omniscient narrator and a man covered in tattoos that each tell tales of events that have not happened yet. The tattoos are magic, and they come alive to tell the stories they depict. The stories are mostly science fiction, but have elements of pretty universal truths that Bradbury is famous for addressing.

For example, in one story explores the deep seeded longing of one man to take a trip to outer space. Something that, in this story, is attaintanable. He works his whole life to be able to fulfill this yearning, but he is torn between going or staying with his family, whom he also loves. It begs the question of the existence of duality of desire and duty.

Then, in another, there’s this incessant rain. And this group of men are searching for cover and sunshine, but it’s wearing them down and breaking them. These small raindrops, just water, becomes torture. It’s interesting how something as small as raindrops can break both canyons and men.”

I listen as he tells me about each story behind the man’s tattoos, about how they’re all different but important and lend themselves to portraying the then-futuristic perception world around us. Sometimes, his voice gets sad at the implications of the stories, but other times he seems to appreciate the sentiment behind them.

I dip my brushes and admire the way they drag across his soft skin, leaving a wake of vibrant pigments behind. I hmm and ahhh at appropriate times, partially paying attention but mostly glad that he’s able to enjoy himself and is able to think of something other than the darkness in his world.

We stayed in our respective positions for the better part of an hour- him laying on the bed with his head on his hands while I straddled the back of his thighs, stroking brushes across the lines of his back.

When I’m finally finished, I roll my neck and place my hands on the small of his back, taking a moment to take it in. The idea of creating a universe compelled me; there was so much beauty and so much unknown in the expanse of space. The concept seemed fitting for what I hoped to help him understand. I’d mixed a navy blue paint for a base, and created swirls of light with yellows, creams, and whites to create a brighter contrast and background for the more intricate featured parts. One section had books, a coffee cup, a molecular model I’d hoped was an actual chemical, and a small red apple.

The next was a canyon, modeled after one of the scenic drives we’d taken the last time we visited Vegas to see his mom at her new care facility. We parked at a lookout spot and watched the sun set- gorgeous oranges, yellows, and pinks painted the sky over the rock. It was at that moment I’d never been more jealous of Spencer’s perfect memory.

Another section, closer to the bottom curve of his spine was a silhouette outline of the Christmas card the team had sent out two years ago. Spencer had a copy hanging by a CalTech magnet on the fridge, another on his desk, and a folded and fading copy in his wallet.

He loved that photo – the way it captured their joyous spirits and ability to be carefree despite the things that initially brought them together.

I took a deep breath and playfully patted his bottom. “All done!”

He threw a boyish grin over his shoulder and handed me his phone.

I snapped a few pictures, holding the phone up by my chin to capture the expanse of his back, then a bit closer to the individual parts. I passed the phone back over his shoulder and brought my clasped hands up under my chin. “Okay, so, if you don’t like it, that’s okay you can wash-” I rushed, but stopped short when I felt his breath hitch from underneath me.

He was silent for a moment, staring at the phone in his hand.

I took a deep breath. “Spencer, you contain multitudes. You’re a loving son, an amazing friend, a brilliant profiler, a great cat-sitter, an instant mashed potato extraordinaire, and my favorite boyfriend.”

I dusted an invisible speck of dust off his shoulder before continuing, giving my words a moment to sink in. I needed him to hear me, and to know these truths. “You are so much more than the things you don’t love about yourself. You are more than this job, you are more than the obstacles you’ve had to overcome. They’re a part of who you are, yeah, but they’re not all that you are.”

I shook my head, though he couldn’t see it. The knowledge of the man beneath me not knowing he was deeply loved seemed so wrong.

“You are so incredibly loved, Spencer. The people in your life are so lucky to know you and to be loved by you. Each and every one of your friends is changed and is better for having known you, believe me.”

He was silent for a short while, pinching and zooming in on the screen to see the different parts of him illustrated in his skin. He cleared his throat a few times. Part of me was grateful I couldn’t see his face, and he couldn’t seem mine. Though, I didn’t need to see the way his mind was working to know he was trying to find a flaw in my logic.

The amount of love I had for the man beneath me threatened to spill over in the form of tears.

“Favorite boyfriend?” he asked finally, feigning insult.

I laughed. “So far, yeah.”

I knew that wasn’t the only thing he’d heard, but probably was the only thing he could bring himself to comment on.

I scrambled off of my perch unceremoniously, stretching for a moment before straightening up and offering my hand. He laid with his chin resting on his fists stacked, staring at me for a moment.

“What?” I asked with a small huff.

“Being loved by you is one of the greatest joys of my life.”

I felt my mouth pop open, a bit taken aback at such a bold admission. A sweet smile touched his lips while he watched me try to scoop my heart back into my chest. He climbed off the bed gingerly, careful not to rock the tray of paint and brushes with his long limbs.

His large hand wrapping around mine grounded me from cloud nine and I could feel the smile forming on my lips. I turned and started heading towards the bathroom.

“Come,” I said, pulling him along behind me.

When we arrived in the small room, I halted and spun him so the back of his thighs were resting against the porcelain countertop and I was flush against his front. My hands came to rest on the edges of the countertop, caging him between my arms. I looked up at him, squinting slightly.

“I’d like to take a picture, is that okay?”

I knew Spencer was wary of having his picture taken; most of our pictures together were candids I’d puppy eyed my way into him letting me keep.

He narrowed his eyes back at me. My lower lip made an appearance, coupled with a knitted brow and cautious look from under my lashes.

He laughed and shook his head. “Okay.”

Before he could change his mind, I grabbed my phone and rushed back to my place in front of him, pressing my front to his.

I snaked my arms around his torso so our chests were together while his back bearing my painting faced the mirror. My arms poking out from between his arm and torso space made him look like an alien, but placing one hand on his hip while the other held my phone gave the pose a more artistic feel.

I snapped a few pictures, messing with the lighting and exposure, playing with shadows from the vanity and positioning him every which way. Every once in a while, I’d pull my arms from him and show him a few shots I liked but they never felt like the one.

He smiled and nodded encouragingly, taking my direction to tilt this way or arch his shoulder that way. I started to feel for him, we’d been there for 15 minutes at least.

I pouted and let my head fall back dramatically. “I give up,” I whined.

He gave a small smile and leaned down to kiss me. I met his lips with a smile of my own before resting my head against his chest.

“Try one more time,” he encouraged.

I nodded and wrapped my arms around him again. I poked my head out so it was just visible behind his arm, resting my chin on his bicep as I focused my phone camera to capture the two of us and my work on his back.

“Smile,” I said before snapping a few shots. Spencer’s body shook with his laugh as he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of my head. My thumb grazed the shutter button, capturing the moment.

It was perfect.

His back was illuminated perfectly by the soft glow of the vanity mirror lighting, the muscles in his back tensed when he bent down, creating dips and curves that separated the focus points brilliantly. My hand wasn’t posed, just gently resting on his hip, a soft touch that lent itself perfectly to the lightness of the moment.

I pulled myself from around him and held the phone between us. His hand found the small of my back and he pulled me closer to him, sealing our lips together. Our lips were unhurried, enjoying the softness of the moment and the love between us. His free hand cupped my cheek as we broke apart. His eyes bore into mine, both pairs slightly glossy.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

I nodded and buried my head into his chest so he wouldn’t see the fresh tears springing in my eyes. His arms wrapped around me as he pressed more kisses to the top of my head.

——

Let’s talk about it!

#criminal minds #criminal minds fan fic #criminal minds fan fiction #spencer reid #Spencer Reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid x reader #Spencer Reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #gn reader #criminal minds self insert #Spencer Reid gif #criminal minds gif #my writing

[erodasghosts]

reverence | harry styles

description: where harry and y/n finally are made to face how they feel

warnings: none?

word count: ~7.6k

a/n: this took forever :) i have a love/hate feeling towards it honestly... let me know what you think!

masterlist

To talk about one’s feelings never seems to come easy. So much risk comes with making yourself so vulnerable, whether it is talking about how you feel after a loss or if it is admitting how you feel for another person. With love, you put your heart out on the table with hope that the other person will place their own heart right with yours, yet having not even the slightest clue as to what will happen. 

There are people who will do this with ease, knowing that you have to risk it to even have the chance of a happy outcome. At the same time, there are people who will let the negative thoughts persist and take over, leading them to coware away from ever saying a word to the other. Both were understandable places to be, and both things could lead to a number of other possibilities. 

A confession of love could lead to a happily ever after that so many people only ever dream of, and that would make all of the panic leading to it well worth the reward. But a confession could also be the darkest of possibilities to imagine, which kept so many people from doing anything. But it was so much more than just the idea of rejection, it was what came with that. What would happen to the relationship you had before? Would confessing be worth losing the person you care for most? It felt so much safer to just hold it in.

You had been offered countless opportunities to say how you felt, and each time you chose to bite your tongue. This occurred time after time, so often that it almost became a comfort to you in some way. As if you knew that you could think whatever, and you would likely never even hint that you had any more interest than as a friend because that was when you always ran. Right when things could get serious, right when you could potentially begin your happily ever after, you would run. 

And running didn’t mean leaving, but it meant ignoring your feelings. Ignoring the truth, pushing it away in some lame attempt to make yourself feel better. You told yourself that your feelings would fade, it was only a temporary crush, one that you could grow out of. You would say that it was for the better to ignore your feelings, that you were saving yourself and Harry.

Because, really, what would a relationship with you and Harry even look like? Your mind did often consider it, the idea of being with Harry. Your relationship was already so tight knit, you weren’t exactly more would change if you were together. You had already shared kisses on the cheek, and spent late nights and early mornings holding one another as you laughed on and on about the most ridiculous of things. You had shared countless lazy mornings and had tightly hugged one another long enough to make the world around you fade out. 

You could talk for days about the butterflies in your stomach when Harry would hold your hand, or kiss your knuckles, or even just when he did the simple action of resting his head on your shoulder. And it felt so dumb, but even the way he would look to you with the biggest smile would never fail to brighten your day. Things were already so delicate and sweet, you nearly didn’t dare to imagine that it could become sweeter.

It was nice to picture something so enchanting with Harry, but at the same time  it was something you hated to do. You didn’t like allowing yourself to smile so fondly at his underwhelming dad jokes, or to feel so twitterpated at only the idea of a possibility, because those things would provide you with a hope that you didn’t have the luxury to hold.

Yes, your relationship with him was sweet now, and there seemed to be such great potential for things to get increasingly better, but you knew that a part of you had to still be realistic. Though, there is a difference between being realistic and being apprehensive. In truth, you were more of the second part. 

You had fears about Harry, fears that seemed to easily mask any chance of a future relationship. You had wondered, did he ever feel the same? About any of it? Did he ever have butterflies in his stomach when noticing the way you looked at him? Had his heart ever turned into a syrup when you would hold him closely, and as if you may never get to again? The chance that he might’ve felt the same was there, and you couldn’t always deny that. 

A happily ever after could be waiting just at the tips of your tongues, growing tired of being discarded time and time again. Maybe your feelings were being held in reserve for no real reason, only waiting for the three simple words to be shared. But was that maybe reason enough to take the risk of heartbreak? 

That was a question you had avoided looking for any answer to, always challenging it with the argument that it was never the right time to think of such things. There was always something greater, wasn’t there? Always a reason to focus on anything but the issue that had built for what seemed like years now. 

Fear had definitely kept you from saying anything on the matter for a great amount of time, but a part of you was growing tired of that fear. Was it so crazy to believe he might feel the same way for you? Or to even believe the bare minimum that he really had become more intimate with your interactions together? Because, yes, it made sense that he might if you were forthright. 

What would that even look like? How could you know when it was ever the right time? You had gotten so good at making excuse after excuse that it was much easier to turn a blind eye than to recognize when you really did have an opportunity. 

“You ready to go?” Harry peeked into your bedroom, “Or am I supposed to just wait another half hour?”

You were slightly startled by his voice, nearly forgetting that he had even been there. You had been keeping him waiting, getting so easily lost in your thoughts. His tone had a slight annoyance in it, though he was only doing it to tease.

You cleared your throat, “You were hardly waiting for ten minutes.” 

“Felt like an eternity though,” he grinned, glancing over your outfit as you slipped on your shoes and walked out in the hall to meet him. “You look nice,” he gently brushed your hair from your face.

You brushed his hand away with a small blush and a smile, “Thank you, but this is just a casual outfit.”

His smile widened, “And yet you still look so…���

“Average?” you suggested with a chuckle. “Are you just hamming me up? What’s with all the smiles and attempted compliments?”

“Attempted?” He frowned slightly, “Aren’t I allowed to smile? What’ve you got against smilin’ now?”

“I haven’t got anything against smiling, but you’re acting so…” 

“Average?” He copied. “I’m only being nice,” he said cooly, “that alright with you?”

You shook your head with a laugh, not completely buying his act. He had always made such small compliments, and they were always sincere but there was still something that made you second guess it all. He had started complimenting you more recently, with such wide and cheesy smiles accompanying the compliments. It was hard for you to know if he was only being nice, or if that was something to read more into. It was his usual behavior, simply amplified, maybe he was just in a better mood?

Harry stepped towards you, taking a closer look at the rings on your hands. “You’ve got my rings on?” He held your hand, pulling it closer to see what rings you took exactly, “I take them off for what, five minutes, and you’ve got them on your fingers?”

There wasn’t much room for Harry to complain, he had stolen your rings a fair number of times too. He would always complain yet you had noticed a boost in his confidence when you would wear his things. He enjoyed the chance to be dramatic, really.

You gave a nonchalant shrug, “You shouldn’t leave them lying around for me to take.”

He raised his brows, seeming amused by your answer. “Ah, I see,” he smirked, “I get it, you just can’t resist taking my things.” He teased casually, “Must you have a piece of me with you at all times?” 

You were taken aback by his suggestion, scoffing at what seemed to be his arrogance, though you knew there was truth to it. “Excuse me?”

His thumb skimmed over your knuckles before letting your hand fall, “It is a bit suspicious that you’re always wearing my things. My rings, my shirts, my jumpers, my cardigans,” he was grinning from ear to ear, “The list just keeps going, sweetheart. I’m just saying, that would be the perfect explanation.”

It was hard to know whether he was joking or not, he could only be teasing. Either way, it had gotten to you, feeling your cheeks burning. You couldn’t really believe that he meant more than to poke at you.

“I’m only kidding,” he gave a vexatious smile, “though it does seem to be a possibility?”

Had you been so easy to read? Harry hadn’t gotten it all right, of course, but he wasn’t completely wrong in saying that you couldn’t go without something of his around you. This was something you didn’t really notice, or had but didn’t want to admit it. 

“Only in your dreams,” you teased back. 

“Ouch,” Harry laughed. He looked you over once more, deciding to drop the teasing,“You ready, then, darling?”

“As I’ll ever be,” you nodded. 

You and Harry had set up a double date with two of your friends. That was, a friend of yours, Ava, had begged you to get her a date with Harry after meeting him. They had seemed to get along well enough, and you knew that there was no purpose in keeping him for yourself considering things hadn’t changed between you for years. Harry had said he would only go if you would go as well, with someone he knew. Really, you weren’t sure why you had even agreed to go, but now here you were.

It would be a night of having to see him out with your friend, and you were expected to turn your attention to whatever friend he had thought you might like. You were pretty much walking into it knowing that you wouldn’t like whoever it was, and that Harry would probably leave with Ava whilst you walked home alone. At least you would be in silence.

“Who is it you’ve set me up with again? Ella?” Harry questioned, pursing his lips. 

“Ava,” you clarified, “you met her a few months ago.”

“Did I?” 

“Stop being rude,” you scolded him. 

He laughed, “How can it be rude when she isn’t even here to hear me say it?”

“Because you’re still acting rude,” you pointed out, “and I know you, you’ll slip and be rude to her. Now, stop pretending you don’t remember her.” 

“How can it be pretending when I actually don’t remember?” He had another mischievous smile.  

You punched his shoulder, giving him a serious look. “You act as if it was time wasted meeting her, why would you even agree to a date then?”

“You insisted!” He was laughing again, “You had practically begged me--”

“I did not beg you.”

“Oh, you did though,” Harry pointed a finger. “Something about how I needed to get out more and make more friends than just you, which I have friends, thank you.”

You joked, “Oh really? Maybe you should be spending more time with them and less time up my arse?” 

“But you know you love me, couldn’t go a second less without me.” He reached for your hand again, holding it closer and lightly brushing the rings with his fingers, “That’s why you wear my things so often, remember?”

“No,” you pulled your hand away, “but if you’re going to make such a fuss about it I’ll just stop.” You began to remove the rings slowly, “You can just take them back now.”

“No, no, no,” he shook his head and pulled your hands apart to stop you. “Keep ‘em on, I’m only messing around…” He cleared his throat and stuffed his hands into his pockets, “So, Ava then? She’s from the… from the Christmas party?”

“How convenient, you remember her now.” You grinned, poking his side, “Can you do that with anything? Just forget when you want to avoid but remember when you have to pull yourself out?”

Harry gently rubbed his ribs, “Yes, actually. And it is rather convenient, by the way.” 

“Hmm, I don’t doubt it.”

You had wished that you could do such a thing, but really do it. Because if you could, forgetting your feelings for Harry would surely be much easier than having to live in the constant fear that he might find out. At the end of the day, you weren’t ready for him to know, as much as you fantasized about the possibilities if it ended well.

You knew that he was only joking about Ava, probably just desperate to have anything to say so he wouldn’t be left in silence. You weren’t sure what it was, but he seemed to be getting worse and worse about being able to just sit in silence. In a way, you hadn’t minded the noise. It kept you from thinking too much about the situation with your feelings. In another way, it would’ve been nice to have more time to consider actually telling him, had you been given the time to think on it while near him.

What difference would that make though? Not much of one. But you had convinced yourself that maybe if you had more time in silence with him that you would’ve taken advantage of that silence, that you would’ve told him how you felt. Yet you had experienced that silence with him countless times of a span of years, yet not during a single one were you ever able to work yourself up to that. So maybe things were better off without the silence, especially for you.

“Who’d you set me up with?” You raised your brows, looking over to Harry.

He was kicking a rock along the sidewalk, “Oh, Oliver. You remember him, right?”

“Oliver? The guy who doesn’t like Pride and Prejudice?” You faked gagged, “Why the hell would you set me up with him?”

“Okay, y’know,” Harry stopped kicking the rock and was doing his best not to smile and humor you, “because he isn’t so bad past that, and because I did have to get back at you a bit, didn’t I?”

“He doesn’t like Pride and Prejudice, Harry!” You spoke as if it was obvious, “You shouldn’t be wasting my time with him. You could've at least set me up with someone who stood a chance.”

He tried not to laugh, “Oliver doesn’t stand a chance because he doesn’t like Pride and Prejudice?” 

“And he never will so long as he doesn’t have taste.”

“That’s only one flaw,” Harry joked, “can’t you let it go? Just this once?”

There had been more to Oliver than just his opinion on Pride and Prejudice that was disappointing to you, and you knew that Harry was aware of that. You hadn’t hated him, but he wasn’t particularly interesting either. You knew that it was more likely that Harry had truly set you up with Oliver to be a petty, he had even admitted to doing so. He didn’t have to agree on a date with Ava, though, so he really had no reason to do that.

You rolled your eyes, “Fine, I’ll let it go for tonight.” 

“Thank you,” he smiled.

You paused for a moment, only for dramatic effect, before saying, “But he doesn’t like Pride and Prejudice.”

Harry finally cracked a smile, “Y/n, it’s ju--”

“Pride and Prejudice?” You heard your friend, Ava, stepping in, “I never cared for it, too boring and drawn out.”

You were fairly certain that Ava had never even bothered trying to read or watch it, but that she just wanted a way to butt into the conversation when she saw you had arrived. A simple hello would’ve done.

“Ava, did you get here early?” You smiled, walking over to stand by her side.

“Just by a few minutes,” she smiled back, “no problem, really.”

She glanced between you and Harry, waiting for you to reintroduce them. You weren’t sure why she was being so shy now. She had been so persistent about you making sure she could meet Harry again, and specifically on you getting her a date with him. You could blame her, and you even stood where she was coming from when it came to Harry, but at the same time it just irritated you.

You hummed, “Right, so… Harry, you’ll remember Ava?”

“Ah, Ava,” he offered a plain smile while shaking her hand, “good to see you again.”

Ava seemed to be enhancing all of her reactions, trying to leave a good impression on Harry. You had considered warning her, knowing that it would only drive him away. He had already seemed bored, or as if he couldn’t be bothered. Then again, he wasn’t exactly thrilled about going to begin with.

“I’ve been looking forward to tonight, to getting to know you better. Y/n talks about you a lot, she’s really pained quite the picture of you,” she laughed awkwardly.

“Has she?” He turned to you, “Let’s hope you didn’t give her unrealistic expectations.”

“Oh, no no…” you shook your head, “I only told her that you’d probably find a way to get on her last nerve fast, and that you’re intolerable yet you always find a way to rope people back into your life.”

You gave him a sarcastic smile and Harry didn’t hesitate to return one. He was slowly opening his mouth, probably to spew some random rebuttal just to make himself feel better and to keep whatever game he thought was going on alive.

But Ava interrupted, “And I told y/n that I didn’t believe that. You seemed so nice at the Christmas party, and everyone else seems to talk about you so fondly.”

You scoffed, adding on for the joke, “Well everyone else doesn’t really know Harry. I assure you, you’ll be wishing you never even came to dinner by the end of it.”

“I’m really not that bad, you’ve gotta give me some more credit.” He ran a hand through his hair, “I only annoy you because we’ve been friends for so long, but I won’t be so bad with Ava, promise.”

You had highly doubted his words. If he didn’t want to be there he would express it, and you could tell that he was still making his final decision on how he wanted that night to go. In a way you had hoped that he would want to leave too, because he would actually have the guts to find a reason as to why he had to go, giving you an opening to take as well. Which, admittedly, you didn’t like that it sounded so rude towards Ava and Oliver, but you weren’t looking forward to the evening.

“Oliver’s here,” Harry was looking behind you, starting his way to greet him. “Oliver, just in time, the rest of us had just gotten together.”

Oliver was cute, adorable even. You remembered that you could get along with him just fine, and he was plenty nice, but he just hadn’t been the type that you would date. You figured, if anything, you would at least walk away with a new friend though.

“Hey, sorry to keep everyone waiting,” he smiled awkwardly, looking between you and Ava. “You must be Ava?”

She gave a sweet smile, sticking out her hand to shake his, “Yes, and you must be Oliver?”

“I am,” he shook her hand gently, “you both look wonderful, by the way.”

“Oh,” she tucked her hair behind her ear shyly, “thank you… you and Harry look fantastic as well.”

“Thank you,” Harry smiled, “just my usual type of look, though.”

His response made him sound so bored already, you hoped that his boredom didn’t make him be rude to either of them. As much as you didn’t want to be there you wouldn’t be rude to them. Harry was good at maintaining conversations when he wanted, so maybe it wouldn’t be too horrible if he decided to just tolerate the night.

“Your usual look is this?” Ava gestured, laughing lightly.

Oliver joked, “He’s a bit over dramatic, isn’t he?”

“Oh, well…” she was looking over his outfit again with a soft smile, “maybe bold is a better word? But you both look good, really.”

You had started to zone in and out through pieces of the conversations, paying enough attention to make yourself seem interested in whatever it was they were going on about. Harry had been doing the same you noticed, hardly seeming to understand what they were even talking about.

The time seemed to pass so slowly. Being seated, waiting for your order, the awkward conversation once everyone had finished eating. But Harry had, surprisingly, been giving Ava his attention. He still never seemed too thrilled, and he mostly had just been listening. Maybe it was so he wouldn’t have to do much of the talking, not caring to share parts of himself with her quite yet, if ever at this point.

By the end of dinner Harry had become seemingly more disinterested. He was leaning back in his seat, arms crossed and eyebrows knitted. He had still been listening, interrupting with a few questions here and there, and now nodding almost rhythmically in some attempt to reassure everyone that he was listening. You had noticed him looking over to you a few times, causing you both to quickly turn your gazes back to Ava and Oliver, serving as a sort of reminder that you were meant to be focused more on them.

Oliver had asked you a few questions here and there, and you had done your best to do the same. Eventually Oliver seemed to have given up on starting any form of a conversation with you, as he had been slowly having more and more of a conversation with Ava instead. 

It was ironic, how the dates had been set up. If anything, Ava and Oliver probably should’ve been the two going on a date with one another, seeing as you and Harry were slowly playing less and less of a role at the dinner. 

You weren’t even sure how Harry had talked you into going, it wasn’t like you were the one wanting Ava to get a date with him, she was just insisting on being given the chance. What were you getting out of it all? Oliver was nice, and he deserved more than the attention you were hardly giving him. All you were really getting was more frustration with yourself about not just Oliver, but Harry and Ava too.

Instead of focusing on your time spent at the date, you were just focused on your worry that Harry possibly could end up liking Ava, though it didn’t seem likely. Even if he didn’t like Ava, it just made you realize that eventually you likely would have to watch him as he fell for someone else, because he didn’t really seem to be falling for you. Why had you done such a thing to yourself?

“You’re actually a writer?” You could hear Oliver questioning, “As in, you actually wrote that article in the magazine?”

“All about fading trends, I did.” Ava was smiling towards Oliver, “I can’t believe you’ve actually read it?”

“I can’t believe I’m actually meeting the person who wrote it. I mean, what’re the odds?” 

They both seem much more interested in one another, so at least they had each other. Harry was glancing over at you again, attempting to give you a look to say he was getting tired of having to be there. You raised your brows, pressing your lips together back towards him to try doing the same. You still had to wait for the check, so you decided to join the conversation again to maybe help the time pass easier.

You leaned forward, clearing your throat, “Harry’s actually posed for some of the magazines that you write for, Ava.” 

“Oh?” Ava turned back to Harry, “It’s a wonderful company to work with, isn’t it?”

He smiled faintly, “Wonderful, yeah. Nice experience with them, really.”

Ava smiled awkwardly at his plain response. You quickly glared at him, trying to encourage him to say more but all he did was give you a sarcastic smile. You couldn’t blame him for not wanting to join in, but it felt wrong that the two of you were just sitting in silence. 

You nudged his leg with your foot, causing him to roll his eyes before leaning forward to rest his elbow on the table again. “Oliver actually takes pictures, maybe the two of you could collaborate on something sometime?”

At least he was contributing, even if it was by just turning their attention back to one another. Some friend you felt like, having set Ava on a date with Harry, and having convinced Harry to go himself, knowing it would fail. Part of you had hope that maybe things would actually go well, and they might actually end up liking one another rather well. That didn’t seem to be happening, but at least she and Oliver did have each other.

“I would love to work out a collaborative piece!”

“Oh, no, no,” Oliver chuckled, “please, don’t feel like you’d have to. I would absolutely love to, but please don’t feel any pressure over it.”

“What? No,” she shook her head, turning her body more to face him. “We should exchange numbers, to talk more about this sometime?”

They continued on with their conversation, leaving you to sit back in silence again. You were grateful in one way, but still felt guilt in another way. Harry hadn’t seemed to mind at all, focused on pointlessly adjusting the rings on his fingers. Maybe you should’ve been so guiltless too.

As they talked more, Harry leaned closer to you, “Think the check’ll be here soon?”

“God, I hope so,” you mumbled quietly.

“Should we hang out after?” He looked to you, softly biting his lip as he waited for your response.

Before the date had begun, you would’ve thought that he would be going home with Ava, though you never planned to go with Oliver. You figured it would be somewhat rude to Oliver and Ava to leave with Harry, and things were already going so poorly. Still, you figured the evening shouldn’t have to be completely boring for yourself and Harry.

“Maybe?” You whispered, “We could watch a movie or something?”

He nodded lightly, “Yeah, even just the two of us talking alone would be an upgrade.”

You poked his side, trying your best not to smile at his words. “Thought you said you were going to be nice?”

“I’m trying so hard, darling,” he chuckled lightly and rubbed his side. “But you’ve gotta admit that you’re regretting coming.”

He was completely right, though you wouldn’t say that right in front of them, whispering or not. “Can you not be rude long enough for us to get the check?”

He scoffed, grinning at you, “They don’t even seem to realize that we’re still here.”

Glancing over at them you saw that they both had turned their bodies to face one another, leaning on the arms of their chairs and nodding along as the other spoke on about whatever they had brought up now. They seemed to be much more entertained by one another than either of you, you couldn’t blame them in the slightest.

“I think they’ll be just as happy to get away from us as we will be to get away from them.” Harry looked at you.

“Hmm…” you continued to watch them, “seems so, doesn’t it?”

The guilt started to fade as you realized that they were happier talking to one another, that you had at least played some part in them meeting. It was less of a burden on everyone to just let it happen. It left you wondering more about why you were so worried about the situation to begin with. 

You were expecting that Harry would give Ava more of a chance, and that it would be something dreadful to have to spend the night dealing with. And you were expecting that you would have to force yourself to have more conversations with Oliver, but you had barely had any. You thought that the entire night would be some huge thing that was going to force you into thinking more and more about your relationship with Harry, which it had just not in the way you thought. 

Why didn’t he give her any form of a chance? He had never mentioned anything about not looking for a relationship to you, and he could’ve simply said no to the date instead of roping you into it too. And why had he roped you into it? Especially when he was planning to set you up on a date with Oliver, who he had already known you didn’t care for in such a way.

Again, maybe Oliver was Harry’s way of getting a petty type of payback, considering he knew you could get along well enough with him. Would he really bother at all though if he didn’t want to go so badly? Because now he was just waiting for his chance to leave, and he practically had been the entire time.

Eventually the waitress brought the check around, and you were finally able to pay and make your way out. Ava and Oliver had now become as quiet as you and Harry as you all walked along the sidewalk, getting ready to go your separate ways. 

“I’m just going to talk to y/n really quick before heading out,” Ava smiled, pulling you off to the side by your arm before anyone could respond.

“Look, I’m sorry about Harry tonight, I don’t know what his deal is. He just--” you began.

She shook her head, “No, it’s… fine. Harry seems to be preoccupied with someone else.” She bit her lip, “I actually really like Oliver, though…”

You were surprised, what’d she mean about Harry? It had been obvious about Oliver, but you weren’t expecting her to say that about Harry. If he did like someone else it would explain why he was so uninterested in the date, but why hadn’t he told you about it?

“Oliver’s nice,” you nodded.

“He is,” she agreed. “I… I actually wonder, if it’s alright with you, if I might go on another date with him? We just, we really seemed to click back there, but I know he was meant to be your date so I wouldn’t want to step in.”

“What? No, no… Oliver’s…” you glanced over to him and Harry as they talked to one another “nice,” you repeated. “But I’m not really interested in dating him, if I’m honest. You should go for it, though.”

“Really?” Ava beamed, putting her hand on yours, “And you don’t have to just say that either, you know.”

You shook your head lightly, “Harry had known that before even setting me up. Take your chance, you did get along so well and I hardly found any connection.”

“And you don’t think Harry would mind?” She questioned, “I know he agreed to the date and everything, but he just seems…” she paused, “And, Oliver would be interested in me, right?”

Harry couldn’t care less, not that you’d say that to her.

“Harry will be fine, really,” you assured her. “And Oliver couldn’t seem to find true interest in anyone other than you.”

“Thank you so much,” She pulled you into a quick hug to say goodbye. “I think you should talk with Harry still, about this entire situation.”

You pressed your eyebrows together, “What… what’d you mean? About you going with Oliver? I think it’s clear that the two of you just clicked better.”

“No, no,” she tucked her hair behind her ear and crossed her arms, “not about… no, about each other. Kind of seems like he was agreeing more to a date with you and not me, which doesn’t bother me really, I should’ve known he liked you.”

“What?” 

“Thanks again, by the way,” she started to back away, “I’ll see you soon.”

What had she said? That Harry liked you? It seemed so random, and unexplained on her part. Yes, you had been questioning if he possibly could, but you had never brought that up to anyone else, so what was she talking about?

“My place is just a few blocks over,” you heard Ava saying her goodbyes to Harry and Oliver. “Dinner was… so nice with you all, thanks for bringing me along.”

“Oh, I’ll walk you home? I live close too,” Oliver offered.

Ava accepted and they both then said their goodbyes leaving you and Harry alone, standing a few feet apart. Was there anything about the night that you could accurately predict?

“Well,” Harry cleared his throat, “at least they seem to have gotten along.”

You glanced at him before watching Ava and Oliver again as they left, they had been standing practically shoulder to shoulder, bumping together gently every other step. It was good to see that they didn’t walk away miserable after the dinner, maybe it wasn’t as miserable for them as it seemed to be for you and Harry.

What had Ava meant about you and Harry? 

“Why were you so against tonight?” You looked at him again, searching for answers.

Harry froze up, licking his lips as he thought. “I had already met Ava, I knew I wasn’t really interested in a date with her.” 

“Then why did you agree to going on the date?” You pointed a finger, “Why’d you drag me along too? Especially on a date with Oliver, you knew I didn’t care for Oliver.”

“Couldn’t exactly get you off my back about the date,” he defended, “Oliver was… I thought maybe if you gave him another chance you’d click. Him not liking Pride and Prejudice just didn’t seem like a real reason to dislike him.”

You watched him closely, he just seemed anxious now. He was shifting back and forth on his feet, shoving one hand in his pocket and running the other through his hair. Why was he nervous now?

“It’s plenty of reason,” you replied simply. “You knew I just wasn’t interested in him like that.”

He chuckled, “Like you knew I wasn’t interested in Ava?” 

“You still could’ve turned down the date.”

There was silence for a moment, he didn’t seem to know how to reply. You both slowly began to walk back to your apartment, you were making sure to keep more distance between yourself and Harry than before. You were confused by it all, so much more than you had been before, if that was possible.

You had asked him a few times to go on a date with her, because Ava had kept trying to get you to make it happen. So maybe you had done it just to get her off of your own back, but you figured that she just needed to see for herself either that Harry wasn’t interested or that they just wouldn’t have worked. There was that chance that it would go well between them, which you had prepared for just in case, yet Harry had just never shown an interest in her, not really.

“I mean,” you began again, “I know that I had been asking you to go a handle full of times… I figured you were just being hard headed like you are. You had even been telling me you’d give her a chance, and it didn’t seem that you did at all.”

“I…” he paused. “The more I thought about it the more I realized I just wasn’t interested in her?” 

It was like he was just listing off answers that he thought you might want to hear in an attempt to just end the conversation. You wanted an actual answer from him though, not just whatever he could think of.

“Harry, come on,” you stopped walking, grabbing his arm to stop him too. “Why won’t you just give me an actual explanation?”

“Why’d you want me to go with her so badly?” He looked at you, “Why Ava, yes, but why anyone?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Why were you so set on getting me to date someone else?” He questioned. ���I just thought…” he bit his lip, shaking his head, “Nevermind.”

“No, what?” You stepped closer to him, “What’re you talking about? I had thought you were trying to date? Or are you not? Because I’m getting that feeling, and if that’s it I’m sorry for this entire thing. I didn’t realize that you weren’t anymore, I don’t think you ever said anything to me about that.”

“Are you being serious?” Harry looked into your eyes, really trying to read your intentions. “I… ‘cause if you are, I can’t tell.”

“Yes I’m being serious,” you hit his arm. “I didn’t know you weren’t dating anymore?”

He had a faint smile and he shook his head again, as if he couldn’t believe you anymore. “I chose Oliver because you had mentioned I’d be going with Ava, I thought they might get along.”

At least he had answered one of your questions, though it seemed like he was now just avoiding talking about that.

“Okay? They weren’t really going to talk much, why would it matter?”

“For fuck’s sake,” he mumbled to himself, running a hand down his face and turning away.

Maybe it was because you didn’t dare to let yourself believe such things, but you couldn’t picture what exactly Harry was meaning in the moment. Because it could be about what Ava had said about him, or it could be nothing of the sort. You didn’t want to risk anything by simply assuming, but you did consider just being direct.

“Can you just… explain what the hell you’re talking about?”

He nodded quickly, lips pressed together as he spun back around. “Explain? Sure…” he took a moment to collect his thoughts. “I agreed to go because you asked me, it was important to you. And I wanted you to go so I would be less miserable while out… I chose Oliver because I figured he and Ava would get along, and I had hoped that maybe they would entertain one another so we could just talk for the night, making for a less… less tiring dinner.”

It seemed like such a wild and complicated web of connections he had made.

“You didn’t have to go just because I asked,” you stated. “You should’ve just said you didn’t want to go.”

“I’m not even complaining about having gone,” he scoffed. “I went, we went, that part is over… you wanted to know why Oliver, and that’s why. And you wanted to know why I agreed, and that’s my reason.”

“That seems like such a mess of an explanation, Harry.”

He hummed, “Well I suppose that’s due to the mess of a situation that we are in.”

Whatever point he was trying to make was unclear. What was the point in all of what he had done? If he didn’t want to go with Ava he could’ve said so, and if he thought Oliver was a better fit the two of you could’ve worked something out to still introduce Ava to him. It still wasn’t making any sense.

“I didn’t think you actually wanted me to go with Ava,” he explained further. “You seemed so annoyed that Ava kept pesturing you about doing it, so I figured I would go along to get her to leave you alone.”

That would explain it more. It made sense as to why he chose Oliver more too. 

You tucked your hands in your jacket, “I never said I didn’t want you to give Ava a chance.” You had said the opposite, actually. Multiple times.

“You didn’t have to,” he shrugged. “We’ve known one another for years, I can tell when something’s bothering you. Thought it’d be easier to just go with it… I thought that maybe it would give us a chance to… to spend more time together?”

You rolled your eyes, “Because we don’t do that enough?”

“Not as much as I’d like to,” he admitted. 

Ava could’ve been right, and all of your thoughts from before about all of those possibilities could’ve been getting confirmed. But why would he go through all of this if those thoughts were true?

“I also agreed to go on the date because I thought it was you telling me you weren’t interested.” He glanced at you before turning away again, “I was confused about it, guess that’s why I was so cold to Ava too, shouldn’t have been though…” his head dropped. “I thought that… I mean, all the signs were there?”

“Signs?” you muttered.

“We’ve been spending more time together, I’ve been trying to show you how I feel in… in different ways. I’ve tried to compliment you every chance I get, or placing a kiss on your cheek or hand too… take every chance to be near you that I can get, I mean how many nights and mornings have we been spending in each other’s arms?” He smiled lightly, “However many, it’s not enough... You ask me to stay, which is always a relief because I swear when I don’t spend the night with you I can’t sleep even half as well…” he laughed through his nose. “And I guess that I had thought it all meant something? I even thought maybe the rings meant something, like a cherry on top, y’know?” He lifted his hand, looking at the rings on his fingers, causing you to do the same. “I should’ve known it was too good to be true, that it was just… an extension of the relationship we’ve already had.” 

None of it felt like it was things meant for you to hear, especially from Harry. You had wanted to hear it, yes, but you had been trying your hardest to come to terms with the thought that you just never would hear such things. Now, here he was just saying everything that you had just been hard on yourself about thinking you were overthinking it all.

“Maybe it’s stupid of me, but I thought because you seemed so hesitant about setting me up to go with Ava that maybe I still had a chance? As if I dreamed that you were hesitating because you didn’t want me to go, like you were silently letting me know you wanted me to go with you instead?” He still was turned away, and his voice seemed to be growing more and more quiet. “Guess I just don’t know where I am standing now.”

If there was ever a time to tell him about your feelings, it was now. It was completely unexpected, but maybe going with it would end in a positive way. He had already said things you never imagined he would, so why shouldn’t you too.

“I didn’t want you to go with Ava because I was mad with myself for having never told you how I felt,” you admitted shyly. “I wanted to be selfish, to not even give her the opportunity to go, so I guess I always seemed so hesitant about it because I was… I didn’t want you to see something in her, or just someone else, that I thought you could never see in me.”

“So why did you keep pushing?” He turned around, “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me how you felt?” You shrugged lightly, “I was nervous, I didn’t want to lose you. I didn’t think you had felt the same, I mean I had thought there was a possibility but I never let myself believe it.”

“Is it really so unbelievable?” Harry took a step closer, searching your eyes for answers, “Did I not make how I felt clear enough?”

You chuckled, “Apparently neither one of us did. Either one of us could’ve just stated it.”

It was true, yet neither of you had. You had been cowering from it, it was much too big of a risk. Because, yes, a confession could come with ease, but it could’ve also come with struggle and rejection. You were equally at fault, if anyone was at fault at all.

“And if I state it now?” He took your hand in his own, “What would happen then?”

What would happen? Wasn’t that your question for it all? What made you more qualified to answer it than Harry? You weren’t sure what to say on it, there was no way to know how things would go.

You looked into his eyes too, “I guess we’d figure that out together.”

masterlist

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x reader fic #harry styles x reader oneshot #harry styles x y/n oneshot #harry styles fic #harry styles

[mrvltwimagines]

Thinking Thin

SPENCER REID X READER

SUMMARY: You knew you couldn’t hide your habits forever, you just hoped you could’ve hid them a bit longer.

WARNINGS: Eating Disorders, Low Self-Esteem, Self Degradation 

WORD COUNT: 4k

I knew that what I was thinking was just my mental illness talking. While looking at my body in the mirror, I knew that the words I was thinking about what I saw were words only I thought about myself, but it didn’t stop me from thinking them and believing them.

Pulling my t-shirt up a little higher, I felt a sense of dread come over myself when I take in my overall form. My stomach still hung a bit, and from a side view even tight pants couldn’t stop the protruding shape of it. I wanted to cry. I wanted to physically cut the fat off of myself. How humiliating it felt to be fat when I worked in the field that I do, surrounded by beautiful people. How did the team not look at me and doubt my work? How did they feel so comfortable trusting me with their life when I don’t even have my own put together? I sighed as I pulled my shirt back down and tucked it back into my slacks. After throwing a cardigan on to help me cover up a bit more, I was out the door and on my way to work.

The second I walked out of the elevator and towards the bullpen, I could feel my anxiety rising. I had joined the BAU team close to a year ago. I was close with them all, comfortable on an emotional level with each of them, but when it came to my insecurities and every day struggles to just stay alive or even just eat a meal, they were oblivious. So when I was having a bad day like today, my anxiety sat a little higher on my scale and I could only hope that I could keep it low key.

“Good morning, y/n,” JJ sweetly greeted me as I set my bag down. She was sitting on Reid’s desk, him in his chair and Derek standing next to them. I blushed at the attention I got as they followed JJ’s eye-line, and offered back a similar greeting before taking a seat and letting out a sigh.

“Rough morning, princess?” Derek chuckled. I wanted to say yes, but I knew the question was generic and made more for the purpose of humor.

“Just feel like I’m always tired nowadays. As much as I hate to say it, it’s like I need cases to keep me alert and busy,” I offered back. It wasn’t a lie, I was tired. It might have to do with the little food intake, or the restless sleep, but what they don’t know doesn’t hurt. I did feel more alert when working a case, but that’s to be understood since every case is dealing with murderers. If I wasn’t alert, it’d be a bit questionable.

“Well you are in luck then, missy. Hotch wants us all in the conference room, we have a new case,” Garcia chimed in, speed walking past the four of us and towards the conference room. I watched the others stand up and begin to follow her, but the second I stood up I felt the dizziness set in and stopped myself from moving for a second, needing the support of my desk to not topple over. The dizziness subsided and I cleared my eyesight before standing up straight and trying to blow off what just happened. I looked around to see if anyone caught that, my heartbeat picking up a bit when I made direct eye contact with Spencer right before he disappeared into the conference room. The panicked feeling in my chest grew as I walked towards the room. I could only hope he either saw the end of what just happened, or that he was just curiously looking around and looked at me the same time I looked at him. I didn’t have much time to think before entering the room where everyone was already seated, quickly making my way to my own seat in between Emily and Derek.

“Alright team, last night in Washington, a third hiker was found with a limb missing,” Garcia started, flashing pictures of the newest and previous other victims with different body parts missing from each of them. Beginning to brainstorm with the team, my thought process was somewhere else. I really tried to stay with them, and to throw in my own insights, but it was hard when trying to avoid eye contact with Spencer when I could feel his gaze on me a lot of the time. What was he thinking? 

Soon enough Hotch announced that we’ll be flying out in thirty minutes, and everyone started to separate to go grab their to-go bags and finish up any last minute tasks. As I walked out of the conference room, I jumped a bit at Reid standing up straight and pushing off of the railing right outside the door.

“Jesus Spence, are you trying to kill me?” I chuckled, throwing a hand over my heart to be dramatic. My heart was actually beating fast, only continuing its pace once I made direct eye contact with him. He offered a shy smile, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“Sorry, I truly didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckled, “I just wanted to check in with you, see if you were feeling alright?”

“Oh yeah, like I said earlier, just a bit tired.”

“You looked like you were on the verge of passing out right before we went into the conference room. Are you sure you’re alright? Are you feeling sick?” He pushed on. My cheeks went red knowing he had witnessed my dizziness spell earlier. My mind whirled with all my potential answers, but I just couldn’t think of a good one.

“Oh no, I’m not sick. I’m fine, I promise,” I tried to sound confident in my answer, waving him off while beginning to walk by him. I jumped a bit at the feeling of his hand gently wrapping around my forearm, stopping me from walking away.

“I’ve noticed you have moments like what I saw earlier a lot recently. You know you can talk to me about anything, what’s going on?” My eyes widened a bit at how observant he’s been. Of course he wouldn’t forget what he’s seen considering his ability to memorize literally everything, but I didn’t expect him to notice me as much as he has.

“I-“ my mouth clamped shut at the sound of Hotch calling everyone to start to head out. I took the distraction to pull my arm away from Spencer and speed walk to my desk, grabbing my bag and following the others to the elevator. I begged myself not to turn around and look at Spencer, but it was inevitable when hopping into the elevator and facing the doors to see him joining the rest of us. He wasn’t looking at me, and I let out a deep breath. I knew the conversation wasn’t over. I knew he was not making a scene for the sake of my privacy, which I’m thankful for, but I just never wanted this conversation to pick back up.

* * *

The second we got to Washington and split up, any previous thoughts were thrown to the curb and our attention was fully on the case. Hotch, Reid and I made our way into the police station, and the chief of police was quick to fill us in on everything he knew about the case. Thanking him, we were quick to be left on our own to try and figure things out.

The day went by quickly, everyone joining back at the station around 8pm with more and more information, getting us closer to figuring out the unsub. Spencer’s been watching me a bit, and I could tell he had something to say every time I declined wanting anything to eat and instead settling with drinking more coffee. To settle his mind a bit, I made sure to eat a small vending machine granola bar within his eyesight hoping he would be satisfied seeing me eat something. Before we knew it, it was 11pm and we were all exhausted, ready to head to the hotel for the night and pick back up in the morning.

“Alright, we have four rooms. Who wants to board with who?” Hotch asks as we’re packing up our things. This happens every time, and most of the time Spencer and I would share a room, but sometimes Derek and him would go with each other and I’d get a room by myself considering Rossi and Hotch usually go in one and JJ and Emily would share another.

“I’ll board with y/n,” Spencer called out quickly. Everyone else figured their situation after that, but my mind was racing and my stomach was sinking.

I knew there would be a day where hiding my habits would become a bit harder, I just didn’t want to believe that today might be the day that they may become exposed to someone else. I haven’t lost nearly enough weight for the team to notice, and I’ve been doing extremely well at keeping this personal matter at bay. I’ve never had to talk about any of this with everyone, so it’s a dreadful thought that in just under ten minutes there’s the potential that i’m going to have to try an figure out how to hide what’s going on to the extreme or end up telling Spencer what’s truly going on.

The thought of him knowing sent a buzz throughout my body. My mind told me it’s pathetic that I restrict so heavily, and to still be as fat as I am. Would he even believe me if I told him I have an eating disorder while looking like I do? Most days I want to laugh at myself for having an eating disorder and still being so heavy, and I know that Spencer is nowhere near as cruel as my own mind, but what if he doesn’t take it seriously? Would that hurt more than the constant nagging in my brain and pain throughout my body?

The car came to a stop and we all began to go our separate ways. Spencer grabbed our key from Hotch, and I slowly followed behind his tensed form. He didn’t say anything to me the entire elevator ride up. I could feel him side eyeing me and my cheeks burned red. 

I was expecting him to say something the second we got into our room, but he didn’t. Instead he simply announced that he was going to shower, and left me alone in the room. A sigh of relief left my lips before my mind went straight to overthinking. What if he just genuinely doesn’t care and he was simply “checking” on me earlier to at least acknowledge what he saw? What if he’s simply going to ignore it? Isn’t that what I want? Why do I feel so upset that he’s not asking me more questions, when i’ve been pushing so hard for him not to?

My mind felt like mush. I didn’t struggle like this everyday. Most days went on like normal. I’d wake up, drink coffee, head to work and just immerse myself into whatever project is going on so I didn’t have to think about food. Most days I’d eat at least one meal, two if I got a considerate amount of exercise in. I won’t deny that i’ve lost weight, but it just wasn’t enough, and that was proven by the fact that no one else seemed to notice either. No one on the team ever judged me for my weight, and I know they all loved me for who I am and not what I look like, but it’s hard not to compare myself when on the same team as women that look like JJ and Emily. They were skinny and pretty, men loved to stare at them, while I was always overlooked and ignored. I thought maybe, just maybe, if I lost some weight and tried a little harder, I might feel a bit more loved. And that’s where I felt conflicted. What I’m doing is unhealthy. I know that much, but I couldn’t just stop. It’s become an addiction of mine to really push myself and see how low of a calorie intake I can have each day while still feeling normal. It’s addicting to have control over this when everything else in my life feels so out of reach. 

“y/n?” my head snapped towards the bathroom door, seeing Spencer leaning against the frame. I didn’t realize I had sat down on the end of one of the beds, or that I had just been staring at the wall the entire time. His hair was wet, and he was dressed in a pair of pajama pants and a plain t-shirt. He looked so beautiful, too beautiful to want to be around someone like me. 

“What’s going on?” he asked. I’d be stupid to assume that he can’t read me like a book, but I knew that saying anything along the lines of “nothing” wouldn’t be a suitable answer for him. 

“I’m just tired.”

“Don’t give me that again, y/n,” he sighed frustratingly and I could feel my heart wrench. Was I annoying him? 

“You���ve changed in the past few months. I never see you eat, you’re experiencing dizzy spells, and don’t think I don’t notice how you either avoid your reflection in any reflecting surface or you simply grimace at what you’re seeing. Tell me what’s going on, and don’t lie to me.” 

I shook my head, willing myself to stop the tears that were forming and so badly wanted to stream down my face. I quickly turned my head to the opposite side of the room from him, feeling as if I might implode if I made eye contact with him.

“I’m just tired, Spence. Can we please just leave it at that?” I asked. I didn’t mean to sound so weak, I wanted to sound confident as to not add to his suspicions, but I messed that up too. 

“I’m not going to leave it at that. Do you think i’m stupid, y/n?” this time I couldn’t help but look at him. His voice carried anger and frustration, and it made a ball of guilt and shame expand in my chest. He held eye contact with me before sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Of course I don’t think your stu-”

“You must if you don’t think i’ve caught on to what you’re doing to yourself. You’ve lost a good amount of weight within the past few months, you’re not eating, you keep getting dizzy, your moods are constantly changing, and again - I see the way you look at yourself. Now are you going to talk to me or am I just stuck here keeping these assumptions to myself and letting you hurt yourself?”

My eyes widened at hearing all the things he’s noticed. I was definitely the stupid one for assuming he wouldn’t notice. He was staring me down. I tried to hold eye contact but couldn’t.

“I’m sorry,” I spit out. I don’t know what exactly I was apologizing for, but I know I felt guilty. I felt defeated and sad that while I was hurting myself, I was also making Spencer experience it along side with me unknowingly. 

“I don’t want you to apologize to me!” His exclamation was the final straw to get the tears running down my face. Could I possibly make this any worse? He clearly knows what going on, and I’m only making him more frustrated the longer I continue to not talk about it, but it was still so embarrassing. I didn’t want to talk out loud about this issue, almost like I felt I didn’t deserve to. 

“I want you to tell me you have an eating disorder. I want you to confide in me like I do with you all the time for my problems! I want to hear whats going on in your big, stubborn brain to make you think what you’re doing to yourself is okay!” he approached continued while approaching me. I still sat on the edge of the bed, and he stood right in front of me. I couldn’t help the slight jump at the feeling of his hands gently caressing each side of my face, tilting my head up, forcing me to make eye contact with him.

“I hate how I look,” I softly spoke through tears, “I’m surrounded by beautiful people and I can’t help the embarrassment that floods through me on the daily because I will never be worthy of anyones time. I have rolls and a stomach that hangs over, and I can’t wear shorts or skirts without my thighs chafing and sometimes even my jeans grow holes because they can’t take the tension of having so much fat rub together,” I could feel my regret bubble up with every word I was saying, knowing that whether it be tonight or tomorrow or the day after that, I will regret having talked about any of this out loud, but I can’t stop myself now. It’s been bubbling up in my system for too long.

“I can’t imagine being in a relationship with anyone looking the way I do. I can’t imagine anyone would find me attractive, let alone sexy. I can’t look at myself in the mirror, especially naked, how could I expect anyone else to want to? So i’m trying to lose weight. It might not be the best way, but it’s working. It’s working and it might have some negative side affects, but i need it to work, Spence. I can’t keep looking like this,” now I was frustrated crying. So frustrated that I look the way I do. Frustrated that i’ve never been skinny in my entire life, and that even as a kid I was ridiculed for my weight. Frustrated that what i’m saying won’t make sense to a lot of people, but for me it’s my entire existence. My days revolve around this happening to me, and to others they still just see a fat person. 

Spencers grip tightened a bit when I tried to pull away. His thumbs had been slowly helping wipe away the tears that didn’t seem to want to stop. For someone who claims so much that they didn’t want anyone to find out, I sure did feel all too relieved that the secret was out. I didn’t know what I wanted out of this, but by the look on Spencers’ face, at least I knew I have someone that loves and cares for me even while dealing with such a difficult thing. 

Without saying anything, he pulls me into his chest. My tears were beginning to subside, but the ache in my chest was still persistent.

“I hate to see you treating yourself like this,” he gently started, each word creating a small vibration on my cheek from the rumbling of his chest as he spoke, “You are so strong. You’ve been dealing with this without talking to anyone? How- how you even began to form these opinions and see yourself like this is a mystery to me, but y/n, you are so so beautiful. I don’t know how else to say that. You are so bright and warm, and you help bring everyone to a better place just by being present. It fucking kills me to hear you say these things about yourself, but I get me just calling you beautiful isn’t going to magically fix things.” I could tell he was thinking as he paused after that last second, “I want to help you. I miss your smiles, i miss going out to grab food with you as a small escape from cases. I miss joking around with you, and not constantly being afraid of watching you to make sure you don’t pass out. I know there’s a certain control factor in what you’re doing, but i want to help you get control on things in a healthier way. I don’t know what else to say other than i want to help you. I don’t want to watch you hurt anymore.” 

Silence fell over the room after that. My thoughts were all over the place, and I know his were too. He slowly pulled away from me, bringing his hands back up to my face, forcing me to make eye contact with him again.

“I like the control. I can’t let myself go back to before if i still look like this,” I whispered out. 

“I can’t let you continue this, y/n. I can’t sit around knowing you’ve gone hours without eating and that you’re constantly having inner turmoil telling you you’re worth so little. You’re so important. No matter what you look like, you are and always will be so important. You’re beautiful, and smart, and you are just... so important,” he responded, “you don’t deserve all the bad you’re putting yourself through. There’s so many other things that you can gain control over, but hurting yourself like this should not be one of them. I don’t know what or how to help you, that’s what i need you to tell me. What can i do for you? What do you need from me? because you’d be stupid to think that tomorrow once we wake up and get back to working the case that i’m just going to forget all of this. This will be on my mind until you get your life back.”

I couldn’t stop myself from crying again. A warmth spread throughout my body, hearing him being so supportive and the furthest from annoyed or frustrated like i thought anyone would’ve been was soothing my heart and mind. There’s clearly no coming back from this. Spencer knew my darkest secret and he’s here telling me he wants to help. This is my chance to help myself, and i’d be more than stupid not to do it.

“I just need support. I need help. I still so badly want to lose weight, but i need help working through my disordered eating mindset and i don’t know if i can do that on my own. I just... need help,” I couldn’t think of what else i could say, but i could tell by the slow nodding and the small smile that was forming on his face that he knew what i was implying. 

“I’m so proud of you, just know that. I’m proud that you talked to me and let me know what’s going on your mind. I’m all yours, y/n. I’ll always be by your side and willing to help, you just have to let me.”

I nodded to which he slowly bent down a bit and kissed my forehead. I was beyond relieved that the conversation had died down. I was relieved that someone else knew what was going on in my mind and that i wasn’t alone anymore.

“Now go get your pajamas on. We’ve got a long day tomorrow, and I don’t want you to be too sleep deprived.” he smiled. 

Even though there were two beds, it was figured by the both of us that only one was going to be used. Once I got out of the bathroom dressed in my pajamas, Spencer was quick to pull the blankets back next to where he was laying and indicate for me to hop in next to him. I settled down, his arms gently pulling me closer to him, and i rested my head on his chest.

“Thank you Spence, for everything. I don’t know what i would do without you,” I admitted after he turned out the lights and we were both settled and about to fall asleep.

“I love you, y/n,” he whispered, kissing the top of my head. I lifted my body enough to look at him to ensure he was meaning it the way i thought he was, and the look on his face solidified that it was.

“I love you more, Spence.” 

#spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid x reader eating disorder #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds angst #criminal minds imagine

[phalene33]

Brahms Heelshire short story

Today is the day I start my first job. I have recently graduated from highschool. Not wanting to stay any longer then I have to with my father. I wanted to quickly find a job so I can rent an apartment. Luckily for me an old couple has offered me a job as a babysitter. They even allowed me to live at their home. It's quite strange actually, to allow a stranger to live in your home while you were away, but I'm sure they have a valid reason. I mean if they have a child young enough that they need a babysitter for I'm sure the child shouldn't be left alone for more then a few hours. So having a babysitter live in your home while you are gone makes sense.

Though having this job is great and all I am still nervous about it. I don't really like children which might be a problem depending on the childs age but I'll at least be able to tolerate them. However my biggest problem is that I've never babysat before, yes I've taken care of my younger sister since my mother's passing, but I've still never taken care of someone else's child before. I don't know how much different it will be, or if its any different at all.

As I walk to the door to the large mansion I push all my thoughts out of my head and ring the doorbell. Soon after the old woman answered the door. "Hello dear, please come inside, we have lot's of things to go over" Mrs. Heelshire says pleasantly. Walking into a big living room I am greeted to an old man about the same age as the woman. I assume that is Mr. Heelshire. "As you may already know we will be gone for a little while and we need you to take care of our son Brahms" Mrs. Heelshire goes on "We have some rules for you to follow, follow them precisely and there will be no problems." Mr. Heelshire hands me a paper with rules written on them. I wasn't able to look through the rules before I was ushered to a bedroom.

There was a pale skinned porcelain doll with short black hair on the bed. "This is our son Brahms" Mrs. Heelshire commented. "... I-its a doll-" "Dear let us show you to your room so you can start unpacking." Yet again I was ushered to another bedroom before I could say more. "This will be your bedroom, make yourself at home. We will be gone for quite some time." "How long exactly?" Mr. Heelshire pauses. "About 6 or so months" he replies bluntly. "It could be longer or it could shorter" Mrs. Heelshire adds. I just shrug it off. "Well we must get going, please enjoy your stay here, and look through the rules." Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire take their bags and leave. Reading threw the rules I get an uneasy feeling. "Either these people are crazy or something is up with that doll." I shiver a bit at the thought of the doll. Through childhood I've never been afraid of dolls in general, but I've always been afraid of a character named Chucky. The character was a possessed murderous doll, which reminded me of this doll somewhat. "I should follow the rules, I don't want to anger it.. Besides it is my job." I bring the doll into my new bedroom as I unpack. The silence was unbearable but I didn't dare break it.

The next two months have been uneventful. Everyday I have been following the rules exactly. However today that will change. My younger sister needs help bringing her things to her new apartment. I can't bring Brahms with me because it breaks the rules however I can't leave him alone. I sit the doll down on a chair next to mine. "Uu-h.. So Brahms.." This seemed a bit ridiculous but also frightening. I was talking to a doll but it was a doll that I feared. I do not know how it will react if I tell them I am going to break a rule. As of now nothing out of the ordinary has happened since I got here, but its also because I have been strictly following the rules. However I must do this. If I tell my sister that I think a doll has supernatural abilities without any proof she'll send me to a mental hospital. And I definitely can't follow the rules if I'm stuck in there. "Brahms today I have to break a rule, I know it isn't allowed but it simply must be done. I must help my sister move or belonging to her new apartment. The rules strictly say you must not leave, so I cannot bring you. However the other rule says I cannot leave you alone... That is the rule I must break." I pause waiting for a response that would never come. Sighing I look away from the doll. "These people are crazy, they have me taking care of an inanimate object as if it's real." Quickly I walk out of the room. As I do I hear a loud noise coming from it. I jump and turn around. The table had been flipped over. "I uhh.... Brahms.." Shit I made him mad. I pick up the doll. "Please don't be upset with me, I'll only be gone for 2 hours, I'll make it up to you." Pausing I think of something they might want. "I'll let you sleep in my bed tonight."

Two hours later I quickly come home. "Brahms I'm home!" Please be okay I mumble to myself. Walking to his bedroom I stop in the doorway. There was paper everywhere all of them read "Rule 2. Never Leave Brahms Alone." Tearing up I start to shake in fear. "Brahms I'm so sorry." Out of desperation I grab the doll and hug it. I wait for something to happen but all there was was silence. The rest of the day I make sure to follow the rules exactly. I even played the piano myself in hopes that it would please him. At the end of the day I bring Brahms to my bedroom. "Just as I promised, you'll be sleeping in here with me tonight." I lay the doll down on the bed and give it a kiss. "Goodnight Brahms, sorry again about today." I close my eyes but don't fall asleep.

Suddenly I hear noises that seemed to be coming from the walls. I close my eyes tighter and tense up. After a few minutes the noises are gone so I decide to open my eyes. Little did I know that the reason the noises stopped was because someone was in the room. Looking to my left my body tenses up. There standing over me was a tall man that seemed to be in their mid 20s to early 30s. They wore a porcelain mask and had black messy hair. The outfit they wore was a white shirt, black pants, along with a green cardigan. It seemed as if they didn't notice I was awake so I quickly shut my eyes and pretended to be fast asleep.

I heard the man rummaging through my drawers. Stay quiet, as long as they don't know you're awake you will be okay. You can contact the police tomorrow. I thought to myself. After a few minutes the sounds of the man rummaging through my things stopped. Assuming that he finally left I sat up. But instead of being met with a empty room, I was face to face with the intruder. He was only a few inches away from my face. "Wh-Who are you?" Was all I could manage to say. The man giggles childishly. "I'm Brahms." I was not expecting to hear childish voice coming from the 6'5 man that was infront of me.

"Wh-what do you want?" I move away from him and let out a shakey breath. "You promised me that you would let me sleep in your bed tonight." Not even a second later the strange man gets in bed with me, holding me so tightly that I couldn't escape his grasp. I close my eyes again. The doll wasn't alive I thought to myself. "What are you going to do with me." "Nothing, as long as the rules are followed precisely."

#brahms heelshire #the boy 2016 #brahms the boy #brahms x reader #short story #x reader #slasher #slasher x reader

[serenasoutherlyns]

Not a Summer Crush Part Five

a/n: i haven't been doing this on purpose, but i keep alternating, long chapter followed by short chapter. i think the longest is 6k words and this one is 2.5k-ish, my apologies for its shortness. but!! this one has everyone's favorite Rita Calhoun, jealousy, Serena Southerlyn's meddling tactics, middle school, and even graduate school. enjoy, and remember any feedback is appreciated more than you all could ever know.

Part Five

When Alex got home from work that evening, she finally had a moment to process that day’s moment on the courthouse steps. She texted Serena, trying to fit all the pieces together in her head.

Alex: What the hell?

Serena: ?

Alex: Serena!

Serena: Yes?

She gave up on coherent texting and decided to call her friend instead.

---

Casey was confusing herself again. Having second thoughts was not how she would put it. No, she was still sure of what she wanted (as sure as she was going to be, doing something very new and all), it was the methods that were bothering her. Namely, that she felt like she had none.

Alex had been difficult early on. The beginning was, in most respects, the most difficult time of their relationship. They had both been in rough patches, trying to be different people than they’d been before, and Casey thought, hoped, they’d both been successful. Alex had found a sense of balance and justice that guided her to powerful places. And Casey could look around her life and point lots of little things out: the tennis racquet beside her softball bat, their well-stocked kitchen, the literary journals lined up in a row on her bookshelf, little markers of stability and self-assuredness that reminded her how she’d changed and stayed the same over the years. She hadn’t felt this untethered since she kissed Alex for the first time.

“Casey, it’s called having a crush,” Rita said after she explained herself over a scotch.

---

“What’s going on, Alex?” Serena’s voice came over the speakerphone as Alex set it down on the countertop.

“Do you want to tell me why you asked my second chair out on the courthouse steps in the middle of the afternoon on a Wednesday?”

Serena laughed at her. “I don’t think I did,” she said.

“Hey, Caroline,” Alex mocked Serena’s slightly husky voice, “Won’t you please reserve me a spot on your dance card this weekend?” She said as she popped the cork out of a bottle of wine with an angry pop as punctuation.

“I don’t talk like that,” Serena said. “And all I did was tell her I wanted to dance, I don’t think I asked her for anything, in fact.”

“I don’t remember it like that.”

“So it’s on your mind, huh.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh my god.” Alex thought of what to say as she sipped.

“I mean,” Serena filled the silence, “If you aren’t going to, I will, you know?”

“Serena!” Alex all but yelled into the phone.

“Uh-huh,” she replied, “that’s what I thought.” She paused for a moment, then said, “I wasn’t

asking her out, I was giving you a reason to go dancing with her again.

“I don’t follow.”

“Sure you don’t. Look, I’ll make a groupchat with you, Casey, me and Caroline, and make plans in there, thus implying that all of us are going. It’s simple.”

“What?” Alex asked, actually not following her friend at this point.

“Just let it happen, Lex. Where is Casey, anyway?”

Alex swirled her wine around. “Rita absconded with her after work today. She said it was something about a case.”

“I don’t think they’re opposing one another on anything right now,” Serena said.

“I’ve learned not to ask questions,” Alex said, referencing the schemes Rita and her wife liked to pull occasionally. Then, realizing what she might be implying, she said, “Remember Sophie’s birthday last year?” and was answered with Serena’s light laugh from the other end of the call.

---

Casey’s eyes widened. “Yeah, I guess so.” Rita was surprised that Casey didn’t fight her on it. She decided to push.

“So, when are you going to ask her out?” Casey looked at her.

“We haven’t like, set a date,” she said. “Do people usually set dates for that kind of thing?

“They usually have a plan of some kind, I think. I mean, I do.”

Rita’s phone buzzed three times, two texts and a photo from Pippa. She didn’t hide her nerves fast enough for Casey to miss it. She shot her friend a look over her glass, saying, “you have a plan, right?”

Rita rolled her eyes. “Stop deflecting.” This time it was Casey’s turn to get the notifications.

New Groupchat (4)

Serena: So, Saturday night, right? Where?

Caroline: Why don’t you meet me at my apartment? The place is kind of hard to find.

Serena: Works for me. Alex? Casey?

Casey had no idea what the texts were about, suspected Serena of some kind of scheme.

Casey: Sure? But what are we doing?

Serena: Dancing!

Caroline: Dancing. Ashley’s on the road so I needed another partner.

Alex: We’re going dancing on Saturday.

Casey looked up from her phone to find an expectant Rita looking at her. “Apparently, I’m going dancing on Saturday.

“With Caroline?”

“And Alex. And Serena.”

Rita smiled wryly. “Good luck.”

---

“Okay, okay, order, order,” you said quieting the room of middle schoolers at the end of practice. “Remember, I can’t be there with you this weekend at the competition, and I have to leave early tonight,” you said, to a chorus of sighs, “I know, I know, I’m sorry. But you’ll all do great, I know it. Listen to your teachers, stick to your plans, and do your best.” The adoring eyes of the team were all on you. “And, if you win, I’ll buy you pizza. Deal?”

Nothing motivates tweens like a pizza party, but you weren’t worried about their performance. If nothing else, you knew Ophélie was a zealous team captain, putting it delicately. She had learned to be persistent from you, which was great at a competition, more annoying when she had chores. You gave her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek as you said goodbye to the team, despite her “no affection in public rule” (because the nature of the adolescent is to be embarrassed), and sent a text to Casey letting her know you’d be out soon.

When you saw her waiting for you outside the school building, your heart skipped a beat. It was that same feeling that you’d felt when Alex was in your apartment-- an intimacy that should’ve felt unusual, out of place, instead felt perfectly natural and comfortable. You hugged in greeting, grateful that you’d all decided that would be acceptable affection for colleagues.

“You know,” you said, “You really didn’t have to come meet me here.” Casey shrugged.

“I wanted to. Nice sweater,” she said, teasing you. It was one of those summer evenings where the sunset had brought a cool breeze with it, and you’d stolen one of Ophélie’s uniform cardigans. It was simple and navy blue, but the school logo embroidered on the breast gave it away. The two of you walked together towards the nearest subway station.

“Thanks,” you said, in an unserious tone. “Where’s Alex?”

“She’s already at the bar,” Casey replied, “I was told to retrieve you before the announcement.”

“It can’t be any big surprise,” you said, wondering. “She’s been agonizing over these applications forever.”

“She’s Gillian. She agonizes.” You looked up at the buildings, lights beginning to come on in the apartment buildings and off in the offices. Casey looked at your lifted head and the way it created a line, sloping and elegant, jawline to neck to collarbone. She pushed one palm with the opposite thumb and bit her lip, thinking about her conversation with Rita. She was right, they needed a plan, or one of these days she was going to kiss you without thinking.

Your voice snapped her out of it, but she didn’t hear what you said. “Casey?”

“Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you were excited to come dancing again this weekend.” The two of you walked down the stairs to the subway station, you in front, looking over your shoulder as Casey answered you.

“Oh! Yes, I definitely am. I didn’t know that Serena could dance, Alex told me it was her idea.”

“Apparently she studied abroad. I’m glad she asked, though.” That gave the knot of jealousy in Casey’s stomach a tug. She had no right to be jealous, but she couldn’t help but feel it. Serena is beautiful, and single, she doesn’t work with them, she’s super smart and funny, and apparently she knows how to dance.

“I’m glad we’ll have enough people to switch up partners a couple times,” Casey said, assuaging the jealousy.

“That’s the best part,” you agreed.

---

You made it to the table just in time to hear the announcement.

The third announcement. It would appear that Rita had somehow gotten ahold on all of Gillian’s acceptance letters and was withholding them from the rest of the group (except, of course, for the honoree herself, who was happy to go along with the plan, not that she had much of a choice). Glasses were raised and congratulations expressed as Rita said, “the third acceptance is… Yale!”

Polite applause came around the table. Gillian smiled bashfully as everyone told her how proud they were. Of all of you, she was the only person smart enough (or crazy enough) to go back to school after navigating the complex legal world of New York City.

“Which ones did we miss?” Casey said as the two of you slid into the two open seats.

“She got into Columbia,” Serena said, “which means she could stay in Manhattan. A few glasses around the table were raised again, encouraging her to stay close.

“And Stanford,” Alex added. You shot Gillian an excited look, happy at the mention of your alma mater.

“How many more letters are there?” You asked. Rita checked the pile of envelopes in her hand.

“Two.”

As soon as Sophie noticed that neither you nor Casey yet had a drink, there were whiskeys in your hands. As soon as Serena remembered that you were returning from coaching a mock trial team, and remembering what she knew of Casey’s feelings about kids, she began to ask you questions. How was the team, what case are they presenting, do they love you, (truly who wouldn’t). She was almost tiring you out.

“Is she always this persistent?” you asked Alex, smiling at Serena as you did so. You had to know if your eyes were deceiving you, your wishful thinking getting the best of your powers of observation yesterday when you saw her jealous look.

You were correct.

Almost faster than could be perceived, Alex’s eyes narrowed, looking into Serena’s, not yours; as if to say what the hell are you doing. Raised shoulders, her fingers pressing slightly into the table, her tongue in the back of her throat: you’d seen enough jealous boyfriends (of women you were about to dance with, if you’re honest) in clubs to know what it looked like.

Well. That was going to be good information to have at your disposal. If nothing else, for

confirmation: that you weren’t crazy, that there was something there to notice, from both of them.

---

You would’ve considered your offer of your apartment more thoroughly had you initially understood that there would be four of you going out that Saturday night. You weren’t sure, at first, if Serena had been asking you out. Honestly, you would probably not turn her down if she did. It would certainly be a simpler path to take, and there was no denying that Serena was beautiful and smart. Of course, your affections were otherwise engaged.

But, since she had invited Casey and Alex along, you considered it more likely that she was “creating some amount of opportunity,” (a real thing you’d really heard her say once) than making a double date. It would make sense, you thought, if Alex had told her how she was feeling; and the more days that went by, the more little tender interactions, the more often you noticed her resting her eyes in your direction, the more confident you were that you weren’t making up the chemistry.

Casey was a little harder to read, but you had noticed she’d seemed slightly… preoccupied the last few times you’d been alone together. One thing you knew: their marriage was rock solid. Neither of them would do something without the others’ approval. You could only hope they had a plan. You didn’t-- unless trying to seem as desirable yet appropriate as possible could be considered a plan.

There were four people in your apartment. You couldn’t remember the last time you had people over to your place rather than Ashley and Ramin’s, so it felt especially cramped. You were each drinking a glass of wine (from Ramin’s fancy stash, you were not going to let them know just yet that the only wine you bought was two buck chuck), you and Serena were sitting on the barstools at your counter while Alex and Casey sat on the couch. You had your music collection on shuffle, which led to a few laughs at the funny combinations.

It was your turn to feel jealous, or maybe to yearn. You hoped that one of them would see the new collection of books sitting on your table: Marriage and Other Alternatives, More Than Two, and What Love Is (and what it could be). A quiet buzz of anticipation (or was it the wine?) pleasantly lodged itself in your mind as the four of you slung your bags over your shoulders and headed out for the night.

---

Pippa Cox touched her lipstick up in the mirror before returning to the table she was (finally) sharing with Rita Calhoun. For such a smart woman, Pippa had often thought, Rita was prone to running from her feelings. Having gotten her on this date was a feat indeed, even though she knew (the glances, the blushing, the way she would drift into her space, natural as anything) that they shared feelings. As Pippa sat down, Rita smiled.

Unfortunately, as Rita reached for her glass, her phone buzzed in her purse. She shrugged-- what was the point of texting when she was on a date? If it was a client, they would call her secretary who would call her. No need to fret.

“It’s nothing, I’m sure,” she said, reaching across the table to take Pippa’s hand in her own. She knew how difficult it had been for her to get back into dating, to trust anyone with her heart, which was part of why she had been so apprehensive to pursue her even though the attraction was there. She’d pinched herself when Pippa had been the one to ask, happy to be the pursued for once.

“Good,” Pippa said, “because I want you to myself tonight.” Rita nodded, bit her lip, and smiled. There was another buzz, then another, then another. Three in a row? The only people she knew who texted like that were Casey and Serena, both of whom had plans tonight.

Plans together, with Alex. Involving Caroline. She sighed, hoping that she wasn’t about to do something to hurt Pippa’s feelings. Pippa, to her credit, looked curiously at Rita’s bag as she opened it.

Notifications: 4 new messages.

Serena: This experience is simultaneously adorable and infuriating.

Serena sent a photo.

Serena sent a video.

Serena: I’m tempted to leave and let them figure it out.

Rita laughed to herself. The picture was a selfie of you four sitting at a booth, you and Alex on one side and Casey and Serena on the other. Serena had her head leaned on Casey’s shoulder, who looking across the table, while you were pressing a kiss to Alex’s cheek. Alex had a contented smile, and your table had evidence of more than a couple drinks for each of you. The video was one of you and Alex. You were holding one of her hands with the other wrapped around her waist. Alex looked terrified, poor thing, every body part was flying in the opposite direction. The sounds of Casey and Serena encouraging you both mixed with the horns and drums coming from the stage. Rita agreed with Serena, it was adorable and infuriating.

Rita: Well, that’s cute and maddening for sure.

Serena: I’ll send updates.

Rita: Tomorrow. Please don’t interrupt *my* date again, thank you.

Serena: OMG did she finally ask you out!?!??

Rita: TOMORROW.

Rita put her phone down, answering Pippa’s curious look with a wave of her hand. “Serena drama,” she said, and Pippa gave an understanding nod. “I made her promise to leave me alone for a while.” Pippa leant across the table and pecked Rita’s lips.

“Good.”

---

tags: @addictedtodinosaurs @nocreditinthestraightworld @cmmndrwidw @hi-i-1 @lesbianologist

#There you have it folks #maybe one day this will be finished #svu fanfic #law and order svu #not a summer crush #Serena southerlyn #Rita Calhoun #casey Novak #Alex cabot #Calex #Alex cabot x reader #casey Novak x reader #Alex cabot x casey Novak x reader #“Serena drama” ok Rita #god this was hard to write I don’t even know why #forgive typos #no beta we die like men