#you've been on my mind (running thousands and thousands of miles)

[neoplatinum]

morning beauty | myoui 'mina' minari

summary: has mina always looked this beautiful?

pairing: mina x 10th-member!reader

themes: fluff, major major fluff, minor 2yeon, rest of twice

wc: 3.9k

you had something to confess, a little guilty pleasure of yours, well guilty as in you didn't want the other members to find out. but it was truly something you enjoyed for yourself and kept hidden away from the rest of the girls.

you always chose to room with mina, because you liked waking up to her. it started when it was something jeongyeon commented on during the 2022 once day fanmeeting.

when jeongyeon explained that she would like to be reborn married to mina, she explained it was because she wanted to wake up to mina's face everyday. while chaeyoung and nayeon were playfully laying their claim on their women.

you realized you never actually slept in the same bed with mina, so you don't know what jeongyeon means by it. mina's gorgeous, you could never deny that, but wow does jeongyeon sound like she has a crush. you laughed at the sight of a jealous chaeyoung and nayeon.

letting the thought slip into the back of your mind for a while.

--

until twice's 5th word tour: ready to be was starting up. after the grueling work and practice that came with preparing for a seven leg tour, also was the need of having partners for hotel rooms. the first foreign show was kicked off in sydney, australia.

the beautiful warm city with bright lights shining in to the hotel lobby. while you were still trying to adjust to the time difference. just as you were about to yawn, body sinking into the hotel couch, mina walks up to you.

"hi, we're going to be rooming together." in that quiet, calm voice of hers, handing you a second key card. you nod and continue to yawn and rub at your eyes, ready to get settled in the hotel room before soundcheck. stuffing the keycard into your pocket, and rolling the luggage towards the elevators.

the room was gorgeous, facing the beautiful sun shining in, but you felt like a heavy log in water. the time difference was really messing with your energy levels, so you begrudgingly rolled your luggage inside. flopping onto the bed immediately.

mina's quietly humming a song as she gets settled. tucking her luggage away on her side of the room, and then getting ready to play on her switch.

you watched her, with your body laying flat on your stomach, but your head turned towards her. hearing the low sounds of her game, she doesn't say much, but it's comfortable being around her.

she’s always brought you a comforting sense of home even if you are thousands of miles away from korea.

mina's a nice contrast from constantly rooming with nayeon.

nayeon always flings her outfit all over the bed, even landing them on your bed. chargers and phone misplaced all the time, begging you to call her number and to find her chargers. this is a much different change of pace.

you wake up to the sight of mina, wearing cute jeans and a plain tee, long hair running down her back, her face away from you. rummaging through her toiletries bag for something. then she gets up to go wash her face. her face half turned towards you when she realizes you are awake.

you let out a small gasp, has her side profile always been this pretty? your eyes go wide, trailing down her face, from the sharp eyebrows to the beauty mark above her lip and her defined jawline. it's all too much for your heart to handle while still waking up.

"i'm going to go wash my face before soundcheck." she says quietly, nodding at you before disappearing into the bathroom. you begin to wonder what's in the sydney water.

--

the rest of the soundcheck and concert, you've been in a daze: a mina daze. constantly eyeing her from across the stage, side glances and unfocused. has she always looked this good?

you try and snap out of it before the concert starts, but as you watch mina perform 7 rings from behind the stage, your jaw drops naturally. eyes glued to the screen, watching her turn around to drop her ass. you nearly drop your mic.

jeongyeon stares at the performance, cheering mina on, but her eyes fall on you, watching you watch mina. she keeps that in mind.

the rest of the concert goes off without a hitch, the crowd's shouting and the energy in the sydney night is beautiful. you're enjoying a break as the group takes a quick break to chat with fans. you lean down to grab water bottles, handing some to the other members.

then the big screen shifts to mina, and you hear her voice reverberate around the stadium. you try and watch her across the stage, but she's blocked by tzuyu so you turn to watch the 4k big screen instead.

and as she shares her feelings for the sydney onces, you get entranced by her speaking. watching the way her eyes shine under the fluorescent lights and the gorgeous outfit she has on. the second time that day you ask yourself, has she always looked this good? mina continues to talk until you notice yourself being shown on screen, eyes glued to the screen.

you completely miss the timing for your turn to speak, and then nayeon and jeongyeon are making a big deal about you staring at mina. pushing and shoving you playfully as you try and play it off coolly. it's too late though because the internet's already circulating with videos of you staring down the screen with mina's face blown up.

onces all over the internet are making memes over it, the sight of your face, jaw dropped and just in awe of mina on the big screen.

by the time you are focused on the concert again, and interacting with fans. you begin waving and doing requests off of once's posters.

laughing at one that's asking for sana's hand in marriage, you tug her towards the excited fan and watching sana offer her hand out, laughing and running away. as if she didn't just kill that poor fangirl.

--

the walk out of the van into the hotel lobby is tiring, you can feel the adrenaline finally wearing off. the intensity of having to perform for so long taking a toll on you, you keep massaging your shoulder as you follow the girls up the elevator. jihyo and jeongyeon happily chatting about being in australia. and looking forward to exploring local spots.

mina taps you lightly, and you turn your body towards her.

"i brought massage oils." she says quietly, pointing towards the hand thats been rubbing your shoulders. you thank her quietly, letting her walk you to the hotel room, too tired to even talk.

you fall into a chair, watching mina take out another toiletry bag. grabbing some massage oil, taking the time to work the muscle aches and the tension in your shoulder. a nice relaxing feeling with her pressing the buildup away.

"thank you mina." you offer as she leaves to go wash off the massage oil. your cheeks dusted light pink at the attentive care she has for you, even if she's bone tired from her own performance.

after doing your nightly routine, you get ready to sleep off the exhaustion, dreaming of soft hands and long jet black hair. dreaming of the girl in the other bed in the room.

--

waking up you feel like you've been transported into a different world. eyes watching mina do her morning routine so gently and quietly. moving around to collect her outfit for the day, and to put on light makeup.

you try and concentrate on your own morning routine, but you keep glancing over at mina through the wall mirror as she fixes her eyeliner by the other sink. with your face dripping in water, you forget what you were supposed to be doing. that warm yellow light bringing a gorgeous hue to her skin.

walking out to join the other girls for breakfast didn't help either as mina was seated next to you, taking the edge seat closest to the window. the sun bouncing off her skin, glowing even more than in the bathroom. dahyun had to tap on you five times to get you to pass her the syrup bottle.

you try and snap back into the real world, but with a face like mina's, how can you?

--

the melbourne concert was amazing, the synergy in the air making you forget about your little dilemma. you playfully tugged chaeyoung along, running around the stage and making half hearts with her at every corner. hearing the shouts of fans at the sight at every pose. you nearly run into mina at one point, not noticing her in your peripheral until it's too late.

at the last second, you pull her body towards you, arms circling her waist in a protective hold, making sure she didn't fall backwards off the stage. in the stress of the moment, you don't realize how close you are to her face, until you look up. her eyes staring into yours, and your eyes go wide at the closeness.

trying to play it off, taking your arm away from her waist and asking if she's okay. but the video is circling the internet that night, fans squealing at the near kiss.

you try and avoid the topic as you and mina get ready for bed, mina wouldn't confront you about it, you know that much. she's quietly humming another song as she cleans up her make up bag. sorting it and tucking it away.

you try and think about anything else other than her, this mina fixation is slowly eating up your attention.

--

with the osaka and tokyo shows, you begin to get closer to mina, her taking time to bring you around to her favorite spots when she was younger. she's in her home country, and her parents are friendly, familiar faces.

they offer nice gifts to all the members, even asking you how your shoulder is doing. you reply that it's doing well, all thanks to mina's massage oils. they smile at that, glad their daughter is so nice and thoughtful to the other girls.

mina brings all the members over to the myoui residence for a sleepover.

you get a real feel for pre-debut mina. the game obsession is still obvious, but you also discover her childhood memories. photos littered in her room and a giant wall dedicated to the group. you try not to tear up at the sight of everyone as the final lineup from sixteen, but the memories are coming back.

she walks in with a box in her hand.

"this is for you, from my parents." and you look down and see massage oils, top of the line and very very expensive. your eyes widen at the sight, you would never justify buying this for yourself.

"oh mina, you don't have to." you push the box away.

"my parents insisted. i told them about your shoulder, and they ordered it right away." you smile at that, the myoui's are always so thoughtful. you begrudgingly take the box, and thanking her parents for the wonderful gift. promising to always look after mina.

that night as you get ready for a sleepover at the myoui's with all the girls huddled up in her living room floor, you think that you would love to live with mina.

--

then came the US leg of the tour, and with it came more moments spent with mina. you nearly had a heart attack when you found out mina was experiencing back pain the whole concert. she didn't even mention it, just pulled out a back brace from her luggage and wrapped it over her shirt.

mina had to calm you down from calling your manager, your frantic voice demanding a doctor visit immediately. she managed to convince you to let it go, with the promise of much-needed rest and letting you take care of her.

so you use the massage oils her parents bought to massage her back every night. attentively rubbing her lower back and then to her upper back. removing the knots in her shoulder, mina falls asleep at one point, so you tuck her in. pulling the comforter up and washing your hands before getting ready for bed.

with her back pain having flair-ups, you always carry her luggage, insisting that she doesn't carry heavy things. you insist even if she rolls her eyes because you'd rather have an unhappy mina who feels coddled than a mina in pain and aching from carrying around her luggage.

you start to question why you do all this for mina.

--

you've developed a routine since rooming with mina at every hotel. always tucking away mina's luggage by the side of the bed that is closer to the bathroom. in that corner that she always likes, always setting her makeup brushes from biggest to smallest, left to right on her vanity. you always make sure the water you brought to her was warm, not too hot but also not too cold.

when mina is feeling a little under the weather from being in the rain for the atlanta concert, you urge jeongyeon to come with you to buy medicine for her.

you stroll into the target, looking around for cough drops and cough medicine, going up to the cashier and through the use of your translator app, you successfully are directed to the right row. getting cough drops for mina.

while you are busy debating between two brands, with jeongyeon holding a basket full of remedies, jeongyeon asks you this.

"who is mina to you?"

"mina? she's our member." you laugh, what a silly question jeongyeon.

"no, who is mina to YOU?" jeongyeon asks again, as you shove one bag back into the display. then reaching into the back of a different row to get a bag of cough drops that hopefully no one has touched.

"she's my..." you stop, hand on the bag. a little confused by what jeongyeon means. "why are you asking this question?"

jeongyeon keeps shuffling her feet, peering on the other side and picking up a box of travel toothpaste for herself. "you've just been really close with her, and now you're even out here buying medicine and little things that she likes."

"well of course i would, it's what you would do for nayeon." you roll your eyes at the obvious.

"exactly, nayeon and i are together, and when she was sick you didn't rush me out here to buy her medicine. so what does that make mina to you?"

you grab the bag, placing it into the basket and briskly walking away.

"hey! you can't avoid the question!" jeongyeon catches up to you, while you continue to ignore her, and then you see a row of red. the nintendo switch display aisle.

bingo.

you begin searching through the rows of game cartridges for pikmin 4.

the game that mina's been raving about the release for. talking to you animatedly about how she excited she is to get her hands on it, talking about her obsession with the previous games. you kept that in mind to buy it for her when it releases.

with the chaotic schedule, mina never had the time to buy the game, so you took it upon yourself to buy it for her.

"oh you are so in love with her, dodging my question only to buy mina a switch game?" jeongyeon smirks at you placing the game into her basket.

"am not!" you shout back, and jeongyeon cackles because you're lying through your teeth. your cheeks are flushed, and you're throwing the worst temper tantrum ever.

"yeah, sure." jeongyeon continues to cackle as you take the basket out of her hand, rushing forward to pay for the stuff, ignoring the way jeongyeon is just waiting for you to look at her with that knowing smirk of hers.

you are not giving her the satisfaction.

you return to your hotel room after shoving jeongyeon to her room. begging nayeon to take her girlfriend away so she can stop asking you if you're in love with mina.

obviously you are not.

you walk into your own room, seeing mina laying like she was before you left, switch in hand and looking pale. you immediately press your hand to her forehead, oh good, she doesn't have a fever.

you start taking things out of the shopping bag. cough drops, and bottle of cough medicine in case she needed something stronger. pedialyte to rehydrate herself, chicken soup that won't hurt her stomach. and tylenol medicine in case she gets a fever. at the display of all the items on her nightstand, you scratch the back of your head. did you really buy that much?

"thank you, you really didn't have to get me so much. it was only a cough." she says quietly, taking the bag of cough drops and ripping it to throw one in her mouth. you realize you have definitely overreacted, but how could you not when mina was coughing?

then you remembered the gift in your hand.

"i also bought something for you." you hand her the physical copy of pikmin 4. watching the ways her eyes go wide, excitement coursing through her, she leans forward, offering you a hug, that has you frozen. and she turns to open the game. you sit by her side the rest of the night letting her explain the game to you.

oh god, maybe you are in love with mina.

--

it becomes a habit, watching mina play her games every night, no matter how hard or confusing the game was, you alway sat by her to watch her. sometimes she caught you watching her instead of the game and would just redirect your focus back to the game.

then it becomes a habit of sleeping in the same bed. you wake up to the sight of mina, always waking up before her, sometimes you liked tucking her hair out of her face if you were bold. or plugging her switch into the outlets when she falls asleep playing it. you don't question it when she gets closer to you, and you lay your arm over her protectively.

today, mina didn't even want to wake up, so here you are, arranging breakfast in a tray from the lobby, bringing it up to her. with jeongyeon following you, you forget about how this isn't normal behavior for you. so dedicated and attentive to mina's wellbeing.

you walk in and gently place the tray by the counter. then you sit down to wake up mina, tapping her shoulder in a way you know won't spook her. as she slowly gets up, you brush her hair away, you also unwrap utensils for her to eat the breakfast you have for her.

she's enjoying her meal, with you making sure each bite isn't hot, blowing on it if it's too hot. and then you hear it.

"oh. my. god." your head snaps towards the hallway, the sight of jeongyeon and nayeon peering in, with jeongyeon filming the whole interaction. nayeon giggling like an idiot and hitting jeongyeon on the arm. then you get up ready to chase them out the room, them both turning on their heel rushing out the room.

you grow embarrassed, cheeks and ears flushed red and you look at mina, who also seems embarrassed being caught like this.

"let me go talk to them." you say, needing an out from this awkward moment. mina nods and continues eating her meal, letting you walk out, with your hands in your pockets and a nervous shiver down your spine.

you spot the two girls, eyeing jeongyeon's phone, and you can see it even if their back is turned to you. nayeon's snickering and jeongyeon's loud gasps. the video of you hand-feeding mina playing through the speakers.

"jeongyeon!" you shout as you get ready to snatch the phone out of her hand. she's quick, tucking the phone into her shirt. if it had been literally any two other members, you would not have to lose your head like this.

"so...mind explaining to us what's going on?" nayeon looks at you amusedly, pointing at the hotel door. you shake your head no, adamantly.

"oh also, just so you know, jeongyeon sent the video into the groupchat." nayeon says to you, and jeongyeon chases after her girlfriend down the hallway. you get ready for the confrontation that's going to happen when everyone in the group chat sees the video.

--

jihyo has you and mina in two chairs, watching you two closely. eyes boring into your and then into mina's, it keeps going on until you finally snap.

"jihyo please, can you just say what you want to say?" you sigh.

"okay, i had to do this to jeongyeon and nayeon when i found out they were sleeping together." she explains, you gag at the information, while mina looks away. "are you two together?"

"we're..." you trail off at the end. you haven't asked mina at all, you barely know if she feels anything towards you. mina taps her foot rhythmically. a nervous tick she's developed over the years, you hold her hand, and she stops tapping her foot.

"ooookay, i'll let you guys talk it out." jihyo slips out of the room, closing the door behind her.

you look at mina, she's not looking at you either. but the urge to confess was too much to handle, and you realize words are tumbling out of your mouth, before you had the time to think it through.

"i like you mina, i realized it through this tour, with how beautiful you are, i mean that inside and out. you were so attentive about my shoulder and you always offered to give me a massage even if you were tired from the concert."

you continue to word vomit in front of her.

"i mean i always knew you were gorgeous, but wow you take my breath away. seriously, all those videos circulating the internet was actually because you took my breath away. i want to wake up to your face, every. single. day. i don't know if you like me back, but i really do like you."

her face is beet red, hands rubbing one another as she listens to you talk, and then without another word, she gives you a quick peck on the lips, and returns to her seat. even more embarrassed than before.

"mina?" you gasp out. feeling for your lips, ones that she just kissed. she shakes her head no, but her feeling are betraying her. her body sinking into herself.

you giggle at it; it's cute that she can't even say it. "i'm going to assume you like me back because you kissed me."

she nods her head shyly, and then you let out a laugh.

--

at the very last concert of the ready to be tour. you're busy trying to tease tzuyu with momo. a wonderful encore stage to wrap up the amazing 49 concert tour. you continue to circulate the stage, often chasing jeongyeon and nayeon, when you spot a sign, "mina, will you marry me?"

you squint a bit at it, a little hard to read in the night, but when you get it, you immediately bring the mic to your lips, accidentally speaking into it.

"you can't marry mina, i'm marrying her."

the video breaks the internet.

--

a/n: this is a birthday gift to minari!! thank you to @im--yoong who messaged me requesting this fic, this is the video that inspired this fic!!

ALSO HUGE HUGE HUGE SHOUTOUT to @cry4mina who helped me move this story along, frfr saved me. bare-faced mina could save me, i believe it. stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

#mina x reader #twice mina #mina twice #mina myoui #minari myoui #myoui mina #twice x you #twice x reader #twice #kpop imagines #neoplatinum

[railingsofsorrow]

loving you is all I know

[klaus mikaelson x reader]

summary: all you could smell was blood. your skin was stained with it. your clothes drenched. what you needed was the silence and him. but he didn't seem to trust you on that.

pairing: klaus mikaelson x fem!supernatural!reader

w.c: 2K

warnings/content: graphic descriptions of violence; blood; injuries; mentions of dissociation during a specific moment; self-blame; fear of abandonment and not being enough for one to stay; lots of hurt/the comfort; murder talk; there's fluff (if you trust me); mentions of biting (lovebites!).

A/N: this turned darker than I expected it to. it was supposed to be a soft blurb but it became a lot more serious and complex. so go ahead, I hope you enjoy my view of klaus mikaelson <;3

✭°。°。✭°。°。✭°。°。

“May I help?”

Klaus peaked through the bedroom door. you noticed his voice wasn't as assertive as it had been before, it never was when it was directed at you. His tone never carrying an edge or a hint at something other than care.

When the killing spree happened the wolf could be seen inside his eyes, anger radiating off of every limb of his body as he tore off arms, legs and heads. You watched quietly as a smile spread on his lips when all was done. The blood was spilled and he was satisfied.

You weren't mad. You weren't horrified. You were used to it— unfazed by now. Klaus has never been a monster in your eyes, you've seen it yourself how kind his heart could be. How deeply he cared.

After a thousand years of being alive, your way of reacting to things may change. His were just a little bit... Unconventional.

Your eyes caught your reflection through the mirror. Blood. In your shirt. In your hands. In your face. You could smell the iron and you bet that anyone — vampire or not — could also smell it from thirty miles away.

Fuck.

You shouldn't be that affected by it. You've been bloodied before. You've entered situations like that before. Why were you so frozen now?

“Love.”

A knock on the bathroom door made you flinch, wrapping your arms around yourself in a form of protection. I'm home. I'm safe.

“I'm just going to take a bath,” you let out softly, unbuttoning your stained t-shirt. You didn't remember which color it was anymore, it was just deep red now.

“May I help?” the door creaked open, his hesitation to come in was clear. And you couldn't judge, you did looked like a wounded animal that would run away at any approach. “I can prepare the water the way you like it.” He bargained.

You heard the guilt in his voice and your heart clenched. None of that had been his fault. And still, he blamed himself for how you felt. You knew he did.

“Klaus,” you said, lifting a hand to touch the door handle. “I'm fine.”

“You're not." He paused. “And that's completely understandable.”

You wanted to be mad at him. Why had he give that affirmation with such certainty? But he wasn't wrong, was he? He just knew you too well.

“If you'd like to be alone, I can leave. Just know that I'm here whenever you need me.”

You might as well have lunged towards the door, fully opening it and grabbing his wrist, stopping him from leaving. “No,” you retorted, the other hand wrapping around his arm to bring him closer. It's you. It's you that I need. “Stay.” The words left your mouth in a whisper. “Please?”

He didn't need to be told twice.

“Okay.”

His touch was gentle as he helped you take off your clothes. You knew he was afraid to hurt you, more than you already was hurt — barely any physical wounds though. Those would heal quickly.

You don't know how long you spent immersed on the bath, after taking a shower to clean yourself from the all the blood. Your lashes laid shut in your cheeks as your mind finally seemed to give you some rest. Not only that, but Klaus's fingers massaging your scalp while he washed your hair was what made you drift off.

“Love.”

He brushed some of your wet strands away from your face, leaning down to kiss your temple. “Let's dry you up.” You hummed, leaning into his touch unconsciouslly.

“I want to stay here,” You retorted, raising a hand until it reached the back of his head, you started playing with his baby hairs. “Forever. May I?”

“You may do whatever you wish, my darling,” his breath grazed the back of your ear. “I'm only here to make it come true.”

The corner of your lips lifted slightly. A while later you turned to look at him, a silent request. pressing his lips to your cheek softly, he cupped you up in his arms, gaining a loud protest about ruining his shirt. He didn't care, he had plenty of those to spare.

“Is this one good?”

“Mhm.”

One of Klaus's shirt covered your upper body as you buried yourself in the sheets, sighing in delight. Oh, I'm home.

But something's missing — You thought, running a hand on the empty side of the bed.

Before you could call out for him, he arrived at your side, hands roaming over your the small of your back, pulling your body towards his. You went willingly, breathing into his familiar scent. A mix of cashmere wood and after-shave. There you are. you wrapped your arms around his middle, head tucked into his shoulder.

But before you let your body and mind rest for the day, you needed to say something. Or rather, he needed to hear something from you.

“It wasn't your fault,” you begin, tracing random patterns in his shaved jaw. The skin was smooth and he looked so young when he did it. “I know what's happening inside your head right now. I can see the cogs turning.” You let out the last part in a low voice, tapping the side of his head playfully. He looked down at you, studying your features with an unreadable expression. You didn't like because that meant he did not agreed with your statement. However, you'd take it because it also meant he was willing to listen to what you had to say. “You didn't hurt me, Klaus. If you hadn't gotten there, I'd be worse than I was. You saved me.” You inhale deeply. “There's nothing that you could do that would drive me away. I knew who you were before I met you. I chose you and I'd choose you again and again for as long as you allow me to.”

He interrupted you by cupping your face and bringing your lips to his. The kiss was warm and inviting at the same time. But it didn't gave indication to anything else, he just wanted you to know that he believed in your claim — or at least, he was trying to.

“The blood, it— it scared me,” you said, choosing to be sincere as well. That's what he always asked of you after all. That's what you asked of each other. “You know, when I'm fighting back, my brain shuts off. It works more like a... robotic reaction if you know what I mean.”

He nodded, encouraging to carry on.

“It sort of turns off during it and when the adrenaline wears off I'm just... Knackered.” you pause. “I'm working on it. It's a process. The point is: I don't blame you for what happened.”

“Sometimes, I think you should. You are allowed to.” Klaus argued. “My last name puts a target on your back. Everywhere you go. Haven't you ever considered how easier it was to live your life before I walked into it?”

“I have considered it. Yes,” You admit. The pace of his heartbeat quickening slightly. “But that is just a fact. And in the past. A past where I'd never go back to because you weren't in it. Precisely because you weren't in it. Klaus,” you said almost pleadingly. “I would've took off the moment I heard your name if I wanted to. Your reputation precedes you, darling.” He let out a scoff and you smirked. “But you have never been what people said. Not to me. You are kind, despite your stubborness in believing in that. You are protective, god forbid a threat to your family. And most of all, you are loveable.” You could see his jaw clench as he looked away. That wouldn't stop you. “You deserve love and you deserve to be cared for. You also deserve me even if you keep telling yourself otherwise.” You had to tilt your head to meet his dark blue eyes, he was too busy acting like a toddler avoiding your gaze. Your grin widened when you succeeded.

“I love you, Klaus Mikaelson.” You said, pecking his left cheek. “My life is exactly the way I'd want it to be,” then his right one. “...I don't want easier. I want you. I hope someday you get that through your thick thousanth-year skull.”

“Are you calling me old?” He poked your hip, making you squirm and slap his chest in response. A hoarse chuckle reverberated through the room.

“I saw you blush. Tickling me isn't going to change that.”

“You saw no such thing.”

“I did.”

“Did not.”

“You sound like a child—” a sound of surprise let your mouth as he switched you over. His arms supporting his weight as he kissed down your neck passionately, lowering to your torso. Your shirt lifted slightly.

“There's something you need to know.” he said gravelly, mouth working on your skin with diligence. You shivered at the soft bite on your stomach, he marked you there twice, fingers grazing the lovebites. When he looked back at you, he didn't have that haunting look in his eyes anymore. Something softer laid there. Conviction. “I love you,” he said, laying back at your side. “And you're brave. You're strong. There's situations we can't control how we feel or what we do. You said that I saved you. But you save me every single day just by being here. By choosing me.”

You blink up at him, not expecting those words. Communication was something essential in your relationship. That's why you were having this conversation in the first place, but hearing him say that you saved him was just— you didn't expect it. You didn't imagine he felt like that.

“I'm not letting you go anywhere. don't fool yourself.” He gave you a smug smile and you shook in laughter by the abrupt change. From love confession to murderous threat. “You are too involved.” You are half of me. You have half of me. Who would I be if you left? What part of me would survive? “i'd have to kill you.” He watched fondly as your face twitched with joy.

“Oh?” You lifted your head, chin resting against the back of your hands on his chest. “Really? That'd be a dilemma.” Your eyes glinted wickedly. “Better start now, Mikaelson. But have it mind that I'm always a step ahead of you.”

He couldn't even deny that.

“Are you?” He teased, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You grinned up at him, eyes wrinkling at the edges. Bloody hell. I'm done for. His brain screamed. “You're so bloody beautiful,” his eyes softened, a finger touching your lower lip. “I couldn't imagine my life without you in it.” Even if you decide to go one day. And it will destroy me. It will wreck every barrier I've ever build. “I love you. Always and forever.”

You laid your lips on his, kissing him slowly, gently. The world around you becoming dust while the only real palpable thing was his body and your touch.

And there it is. his mind flaring with you without his control, a dangerous combination but he was too far gone to be able to fight it.

“I love you too,” you breathed into his mouth, your grip on each side of his neck tightening as if you feared he'd slip away. Your body relaxing on his. “Always and forever.”

#reader insert #klaus x y/n #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson fanfiction #the originals imagine #the originals fanfiction

[dailydreamling]

Canon Divergence

My Stranger, My Dream by SigniorBenedickofPadua  (Words: 67,154)

Warning: Non-Graphic Violence

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Roderick Burgess' spell does not summon Death, but someone who has been touched by Death. Hob Gadling ends up in his cellar instead of Dream.

Canon Divergence

your body is an anchor by Ark (Words: 6,792 )

Warning: None

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

"The love of your life," Dream says softly. "That is quite a declaration to make, Hob Gadling, when one considers how many lives you've lived, and how many still await you."

Canon Divergence

in my mind's eye (i create someone i could love endlessly) by youcanseethecosmos (Words: 21,740)

Warning: None

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Because home isn’t a place – not for Hob Gadling. It’s quiet conversations and purple and pink galaxies within starlit eyes. It’s glow-in-the-dark stickers and running around barefoot in the rain. It’s stubborn excuses, heated arguments, and the dip in the mattress with whispers of "I’m sorry" through the old creaky bed springs. It’s lifting the blanket and feeling a grounding warmth curl into your chest and letting it stay there long after the morning sun has risen.

It’s jet black hair, gangly limbs, and pale skin. Home is the person who’s holding onto him like a lifeline. Because Hob likes to think Dream sees this as home too – sees Hob as home.

Canon Divergence

A Waking Nightmare by KydrogenDragon (Words: 17,303)

Warning: Implied/Referenced Drug Use

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Hob has started hallucinating his Stranger for the past seventy-odd years. When his Stranger actually turns up, he thinks it's another hallucination. Shenanigans ensue to get the pair on the same page.

Canon Divergence

fly me to the moon by apocryphal (Words: 11,857) 

Warning: Ambiguous Slash, Panic Attacks, PTSD

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Dream discovers that after being locked in a cage for a century, it turns out he's contracted the mortal affliction known as claustrophobia. Inconvenient. He enlists Hob to help him resolve this issue ASAP. Obviously, that goes well.

See below for more recommendations!

Canon Divergence

Metaphysics by Quilling (Words: 3,199)

Warning: Dubious Morality, Canon and Historically Typical Violence

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

In order to perfect humanity’s own dark mirror, one needs not look for evil or greed. In the true heart of darkness lies a sort of ambiguity. Hob taught him that.

Canon Divergence

In Waking Dreams by cuubism (Words: 49,309)

Warning: None

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

In 1389, Hob married a man in his dreams, a lover conjured only by his imagination -- or so he thought. Five hundred years later, a mysterious ransom letter has Hob questioning everything he knew about his dream husband, who coincidentally disappeared from his dreams seventy years ago.

Several miles away, trapped in a glass bowl, said husband is really regretting letting his marriage be only a story in dreams.

Canon Divergence

the shape this light could take by bacondoughnut (Words: 12,617)

Warning: PTSD, Emotional Baggage, Trauma

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

In Hob's defense, he doesn't think anyone in the history of people keeping fish as pets has ever been so offended by a standard glass fishbowl.

Canon Divergence

Dream of a thousand kisses by fellshish (Words: 6,335)

Warning: None

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Dream wants his reunion with Hob to go perfectly after their big fight so he visits Hob’s dreams to rehearse the moment. During one of those practice dreams, Hob suddenly kisses him.

Alternate Universe - Post The Kindly Ones

Beautiful, Strange and New by Moorishflower (Words: 223,030)

Warning: References to The Kindly Ones, Suicidal Thoughts

Pairings: Dream of the Endless | Daniel/Hob Gadling/Dream of the Endless | Morpheus

On a bright and unforgiving Sunday morning, Hob Gadling, having attended the Wake of his best friend, opens his kitchen door to find...his best friend. Changed. Alive. Human, and carried in the arms of the being intended to replace him. Given one month to decide if life is worth living, Hob and Daniel attempt to convince Morpheus of his worth at the same time as all three of them navigate their feelings for each other.

Alternate Universe - Overture

Forgotten Preludes by Astrophel_Hireath (Words: 6,438)

Warning: Bittersweet, Memory Loss

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

“Fuck it,” Hob mutters, a series of complex emotions tumbling across his face in quick succession to each other - too fast for Dream to log. Fingers tap compulsively at Hob’s side, fidgeting in deep conflict. “I definitely won’t remember any of this?”

Dream’s brows slant. “No.”

"Perfect.” Hob says, only somewhat hysterically, before closing the distance between them in three purposeful steps.

Hob’s Students Fics

WTF is Gadling's Deal, Anyway? (Assorted Theories) by JustJReally (Words: 13,915)

Warning: None

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Five theories Professor Gadling's students came up with to explain His Whole Deal (and one time he told them the truth). In which Morpheus is mistaken for a student, Hob is mistaken for many things, and no one is good at spying.

Hob’s Students Fics

Quarantine Debacles by Picture_Yourself (Words: 3,964)

Warning: None

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

An examination of what exactly would occur if one were to take an oblivious anthropomorphic personification of dreams, a rant-prone history teacher and a Zoom call filled with queer students and toss them all into one metaphorical room.

Canon Divergence

A Dream interrupted by ColorMeHappy (Words: 30,763)

Warning: None

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Meeting Dream had gone from once a century occurrence to every six months, to just every month, then to around once a week, a change of pace Hob would be eternally grateful for, if only people stopped bloody interrupting them.

(Five times someone in Hob's life interrupts him and Dream's meetings (dates) and one time it's someone Dream knows.)

Human AU

would you let me know?/ I could make some time if you wanted by BeatnikFreak (Words: 150,934)

Warning: None

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Dr Hob Gadling's been assigned a new colleague to co-teach his second year class, Dr Dream Oneiros, who is both utterly beautiful and completely unable to act like, y'know, a human being. But Hob's nothing if not indefatigable, especially when faced with a fascinating man who probably needs to talk about his feelings more, and who listens to every stupid thing he says like it's the most profound poetry.

Human AU

On Broken Wings by Konstadt (Words: 57,191)

Warning: Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

An AU where they meet on the university campus and Hob gets more than he bargained for when he decides to be a good person

Human AU

Let Me Down Easy by sanyumi (Words: 21,747)

Warning: None

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

“... Mr. Gadling will be your photographer today.” Hob hears Morpheus’ shoes scuff and halt on the wooden floor before he turns around, taking a deep breath and holding it as he finally meets Morpheus’ eyes for the first time in five years. Christ, Morpheus looks at him like he’s staring at a ghost. It almost makes Hob laugh.

“Hello,” Hob croaks. He knows this is the part he usually shakes hands with his model, but he doesn’t move his hand. He doesn’t want to touch Morpheus.

Canon Divergence

wouldn't you like to see something strange? by rainbow_shine (Words: 3,629)

Warning: None

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Dream looked exactly the same as always. Yes, his coat was longer and his eyes were darker, but that was it. There was absolutely nothing that would indicate that his friend was disguised as something even remotely scary. Hob would even go as far as to say that Dream looked cute. He didn't know why no one else seemed to share his opinion.

Soulmate AU

Passing Stranger! (You Do Not Know How Longingly I Look Upon You) by WyvernQuill (Words: 25,112)

Warning: None

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Hob has known that Dream is his mildly star-crossed soulmate since their first meeting in 1389, but believes they have a mutual understanding not to acknowledge it; Dream, meanwhile, was under the impression that the Endless have no soulmates whatsoever, up until their sixth meeting in 1889. Finding out they're wrong comes as a bit of a shock to both of them.

Retire Dream AU

Next to Nothing by Cheshyr (Words: 6,056)

Warning: Angst with a Happy Ending, Insecurity, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Dream knew that retiring from Endlessness to live a human life with Hob Gading wouldn't be easy. He wasn't expecting Hob to laugh at him so much though. (In which there are misunderstandings, Dream hides things he shouldn't, and being human is hard.)

Omega Verse AU

lover, be good to me by CinnamonCake (Words: 100,265)

Warning: Past Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Hurt/Comfort

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Dream de Endless was suppose to be his family’s most prized jewel, but when he is taken, he loses the last thing the world considered valuable about him. Broken down to his core, he does not expect anyone to want him again. Until Robert Gadling walks into his life

#dreamling fic #dreamling fanfic #hob gadling #dream of the endless #dailydreamling #masterpost #ao3 fanfic #hobmurphy #fic rec #DailyDreamling Fic Recs #dream x hob #dream of the endless x hob gadling

[kriffingstars]

Johnny MacTavish; found out

pairing: Johnny MacTavish x Price!Reader summary: you and Johnny get rumbled. Uncle John is not a happy camper warnings: verrrrrry slight age gap (I imagine reader to be around 20, Johnny is 26), canon typical violence, swearing a/n: i wrote this running off of 4 hours sleep on an 8 hour flight, i can only apologise for any typos/sentences that don’t make sense. i did try and check before posting

It's careless really, the way your Uncle finds out about the two of you.

After two months away, he calls you to let you know he'll be home at the end of the week. You get a similar call from Johnny after, letting you know that he'll be all yours for the next few weeks.

At your beck and call, is how he phrases it.

You hadn't forgotten about the letter stuck to the front of the fridge with one of the magnets your Uncle had bought you whilst he was away a few months ago.

On the contrary, you adore it. It's on the fridge because you see it every time you walk into the kitchen. Reading the tentative words in the first love letter you have ever received.

Sweets,

Being away from you is killing me, I'm being safe like I promised, keeping my head in the game, but I can't get you out of my head.

All I'm thinking about is coming home to you, you're going to have to pry me off you when I'm back.

I haven't said it yet but I love you. No one will ever come close to the way I feel about you. You bring me peace, make all the stuff in my head quiet and it's just you.

I can't believe you've been hidden away from me all this time.

When I'm home I'm going to take you out, I'll whisk you away somewhere nice and it'll be just us. No work, no worries and we'll figure it all out.

I hope you're not working too hard like I know you do. You're too smart for any of us, me especially. I could listen to you talk for days. Missing your voice, I'm sorry we can't call, but figured you'd enjoy a letter all the same.

Love your Johnny x

You cried like a baby when it arrived. Even when you're thousands of miles apart he's still thinking about ways to make you happy, and you're more than sure that he is it for you.

No one else could ever compete with the way that he has completely and utterly captured your heart.

Price feels his blood boil as he holds the letter in his hands, eyes flitting over a few of the stand-out phrases in it, written in Johnny's unmistakable handwriting. He's seen it enough on reports he's had to sign off to know it's his without having to even check the last line.

Seething is an understatement as he climbs back into his car, racing back to base to confront the man who has blatantly ignored all the warnings he's given.

It's not even the disrespect that angers him the most, it's the trust that Soap has completely broken. All the assurances, joking that you're a nicer version of him. How it's all just friendly, how he'd never make a move on you.

His thoughts flit back to you, you've got no clue what you've done to yourself. What you've opened yourself up to because if you realised, he's certain you would never have done this to him.

You're out at the moment, god knows where. He was expecting you to be at home considering it's the summer holiday for you. He'll deal with you later, probably more softly and with a bit more tact than the way he knows he's going to deal with Soap when he gets his bloody hands on him.

He's never driven so quickly back to base, even when he's been called in for emergencies.

He doesn't care for the speeding fine he's most likely going to cop, all that's on his mind is tearing Soap limb to fucking limb.

"MacTavish," is all he bellows as he spots the Scotsman, laughing with Ghost about who knows what.

"What the fuck is this?!" he bellows, slapping the letter down on the table in front of the cursed man.

Everything about the action causing the Scotsman in front of him to jump out of his skin.

"You're a dead man, MacTavish. Going to fucking bury you," he shouts as he leaps towards Soap, who's backed away from the table and the letter that's tossed on top of it.

Ghost has never seen the Captain so red, the veins in his neck stand up with rage as a vein down his forehead pulses with anger.

He doesn't waste any time putting himself between the two men, holding Soap back, his t-shirt screwed in his fist, and a flat palm again Price's chest.

It doesn't matter that he's the aggressor in this instance, he's not manhandling his Captain, no matter the issue.

"I told you to stay away, let you be her friend and you ignore everything."

Right. This needs to go somewhere private because this is definitely a personal issue, and there are a lot of eyes on the three of them currently, listening in to everything.

"Not here," is all Ghost needs to say before Price is storming off to his office, not even checking to see if Soap is following. He doesn't need to, Soap knows he'll only make things even worse if he runs now.

"What did you do, mate?" is all he says as he releases the man, pushing him in front, not before grabbing the letter left on the table, as they both march to Price's office.

When they get there papers are strewn, furniture is out of place and Price is pacing and mumbling incoherent threats.

Neither man has ever seen him so riled up, even on the battlefield. It's jarring. Usually, their Captain is so precise with his anger, it's carefully controlled and this is nothing like that.

He doesn't acknowledge them when they come in, he lets them stew in the tension. Waiting to pounce.

"Sit down."

Soap's in the chair in seconds, and for the second time today Ghost sees something new, this time it's Soap moving the fastest he ever has.

"I'm going to ask you questions and you're going to answer them."

Ghost feels like he really shouldn't be here, but if he leaves now he's not certain both men are coming out of this room alive.

Soap's looking absolutely terrified, he's pale and shaking harder than ever. His heart is beating at a rate that's completely unsustainable, he's either going to pass out or go over with a clutcher.

"How long."

Soap is stumbling over his words as he eventually spurts out "Six months,"

"Sir. Six months, sir," Price corrects, as he squares his shoulder, the tension not easing.

"Yes sir, sorry sir," Soap apologises as he bows his head not risking making eye contact.

"You've been lying to me and directly disobeying order for six fucking months!" he spits, as he advances on the man in the chair, before slamming his hand down on the desk next to Soap.

The sound rips through the office and once again Soap is jumping out of his skin at the blistering noise.

"Do you realise what you've done?" is the next thing that comes from Price's mouth. It's barely audible as he gets up in the younger man's face.

Ghost's seen Price interrogate the worst of the worst, and still, nothing could compare to this. The venom in his voice, or the malice in his eyes.

It's personal this time.

"Tell me why I shouldn't gut you from head to toe?" he spits, as he leans back again, waiting for Soap's answer.

"Because I love her, sir."

It's the first time he lifts his gaze the entire interaction.

"You love her?" Price scoffs, as he mocks the man shrinking under his gaze.

"That makes it okay then, why didn't you say so?" he mocks.

Ghost isn't sure what's going to happen next, it certainly isn't what Soap says next.

"I want to marry her, sir. She's the best thing that's ever happened to me, sir."

That was definitely not the right response, and it sends Price reeling.

"Oh, that makes it okay then, should have just said so!" he's seething now. Ghost really didn't think he could get more riled up than he already is, but once again he's surprised which doesn't happen very easily.

"Not only have you disrespected my orders. You've dragged her into your life and now you plan on marrying her now," his voice is steady and now filled with a deeply unsettling calmness.

"Get out of my sight," is the next thing to come out of his mouth before turning his back to the men in the room.

"And don't you ever think of contacting her again."

#john mactavish x reader #john mactavish headcannon #johnny mctavish x reader #johnny mactavish headcannon #john mctavish x reader #soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap mactavish x price!reader #cod mw soap

[qlossytbh]

𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 - 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 you and conrad had established no strings attached, that is until valentines fold up and conrad suddenly seeks more out of you.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 implications of sex, fwb, lots of fluff towards the end

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 3.1k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 back at it lol. i’m taking request!! feel free to send in any requests for any of the characters on my masterlist

Valentines day. 

Some people are apprehensive when it comes to deciding what to spend the day doing on this particular holiday. For the lucky, it might be spending the day with their significant other or sitting around, basking in the simplicity of spending time with the person you love. For others, it was spending the day watching sappy rom-cons or moping around about the very fact of being single.

For you, Valentine's Day was the perfect excuse to show everyone how much you loved and cared for them. You were an overall extremely affectionate person, giving intricate gifts was a part of who you were. It was an extreme love language of yours— the feeling of running around, planning and buying different parts and pieces for each gift was something you found loads of fun in doing. 

For example, you had just finished baking and packing up your usual valentine themed cookie boxes to send out to all of your coworkers who worked with you at the local dog shelter. You had also sent out all of the small valentine themed envelopes to your family, who lived down the street from Susannah’s house here in Cousins, which reminded you not to forget her and Laurel's bouquets. You also put together the little treat bags with the group's favorite candy and other small things; one for Jeremiah, one for Steven, one for Belly, and one for Conrad.

It maybe was a lot, but you couldn't help yourself. You loved Valentine's Day. 

It was currently around four in the afternoon, and you were rushing around the kitchen of the Fisher household, scrolling through your tablet, checking off a few of the things you had left to do. 

Jeremiah walked into the room along with Belly, Steven, and Conrad.

"Hello Jeremiah." You looked up from your tablet and caught Jeremiah reaching for a cookie from one of the batches you were going to give out to your neighbours later on. His face twisted, laughing in embarrassment. You shook your head, looking down at the screen with a smile. 

"I left a batch of red velvet cupcakes near the fridge," Jeremiah and Stevens faces lit up. 

"You are the best person to step foot on this planet," Steven praised as they rounded the corner in attempts to get their hands on one of the cupcakes. 

"Seem's like you've been busy," Belly said, scanning the room as you set the tablet down on the counter. "I'll never get how you do it."

You shrugged, pulling your hand back and letting down the messy bun you had whipped up a few hours ago. "What can I say? Its Valentine’s Day."

"Not a valid answer, you don't see me running around gifting people random lovey shit, huh?" Conrad butted in as he leaned against the wall. You shot a glare at him.

"Well, you don't do lovey shit anyways," You teased with a smile, looking at your feet. "I dont know, I like seeing people happy, thats really all there is to it."

Belly looked at you with a smile. "That and your mind works at like, a thousand miles per hour."

It was true, you had a tendency to always need to be moving around. You barely sat still, not being able to stand the feeling of not being productive. You were always doing something, or you always had something to do. It was the main reason why you always ended burnt out. You loved doing things constantly, but it came with the heavy price of not knowing when you should stop doing things and rest. 

"People only usually do this stuff when they have boyfriends and shit like that," Belly insinuated. 

"You trying to tell us something, Y/n?" She said, gesturing towards her and Conrad. 

You cleared your throat, feeling a heat wave spread itself against your cheeks. You looked down only momentarily before shooting the pair a smile. "I do this every year Belly, if I had a special someone, you'd be able to tell."

It had been half true, given how you and Conrad weren't necessarily dating. 

It was complicated, at least if you explained it to others. You and Conrad had been best friends since you started coming to Cousins, which was since you were a baby. You loved Belly and Steven, and you loved Jeremiah, but things always felt different with Conrad. 

People had told you that Conrad was never an open book, and it surprised you at first, because he had always been more than open with you. It took very little, if not nothing, to guess with just a glance at what was going on in his head.

Many of the words that people used to describe Conrad Fisher, were the complete opposite of what you knew him to be. Conrad had a side of him that was reserved for only you, and you eventually started noticing it throughout your friendship. 

The two of you had many things that you preferred to leave unspoken. It had always worked like that with the two of you. When it came to how you felt about him, you couldn't put much into words. Words didn't do it justice most of the time.

But you and Conrad had been involved in this, thing, for about a year now. It started last summer, the two of you having one too many drinks at a party and hooking up accidentally. Or so you'd like to say it like that, because no one hooks up with their best friend drunk and says it was an accident. The two of you, not being able to communicate properly, ignored what happened that night for weeks.

But then it happened again

and again, 

and then again.

And none of the following times included alcohol. But for some reason, each time you saw each other after any sexual rendezvous, things would go completely back to normal. You guessed that was just your relationship with Conrad, it never got awkward or weird. 

You did however end up talking about it with him. 

"Can we talk?" You said, knocking on Conrad's door softly. He was lying down in his bed, book in hand. He sat up, placing it on the nightstand beside his bed. You looked at each other before he shook his head and ran a hand through his hair

"Sure," You walked in, feeling the cool air of the air conditioning hit your legs. You closed the door behind you, swallowing thickly as you could sense this conversation was going somewhere. You couldn't decipher if it was for the better or for the worse. 

You sat on the edge of his bed and looked into his eyes in silence. His gaze was just as locked on you as you were on him. That was before smiles started to grow on each of your faces before you threw your head back, laughing at the ridicule the situation presented. 

"I really don't know why we should talk about this," You said, turning to the side. 

Conrad sighed. "No, we probably should."

You looked at Conrad and focused on the blue in his eyes. "I dont regret what happened."

"Neither do I."

 "Is there a particular reason as to why it happened again after the first time?" You shifted your body and fiddled with your fingers. "And the second and third..

Conrad sighed heavily through his nose. He didn't get what was happening to him at all. He knew he cared about you; he knew he loved being near you and spending time with you. And he enjoyed what had happened between you two, 

A lot. 

But he didn't feel the need to put a title on what the two of you were. At this point, he was definitely opposed to the idea of dating, but he wasn't opposed to the idea of you. Maybe in the future? He didnt know, he was truly lost. 

And so were you. Which you hated. You couldn't stand not knowing what you wanted or what you were feeling. You needed to put titles onto everything—every feeling, every emotion, every situation—thats how your mind worked. But you knew you didn't want a relationship at this point in your life, but you loved spending time with Conrad the way you have recently.

"I don't know," He settled. "I don't see myself in a relationship, but I do love doing all the things we've been doing. 

You look at him and see a glint of something flashes through his eyes. "A lot."

You felt a rush of adrenaline pump through your veins as your cheeks went hot. You reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "I do too."

"I say," He pushed his body closer to yours, his knees lightly grazing against yours. You watched his movements with a sharp intensity. "Let's just be the friends we’ve been since we could talk, and ocacionally thing."

He placed a hand on your thigh. "Things have been normal so far, would you want to keep doing things?"

You nodded and smiled as he leaned forward. You said in a whisper, "What things are we talking about specifically?"

"Should I say it?" His breath fanned over your own. He then pressed a chaste kiss onto your lips, allowing your eyes to flutter close in delight as you smiled through the kiss. "Or do you want me to show you,"

With that you pressed your lips onto his, hungry for whatever you could have of him. 

For the rest of the summer it continued. The two of your manadged to keep it a secret, not wanting any complications of anyone else trying to put a name to whatever it was the two of you had. 

You didn't even know what it was. Friends with benefits? It was more than that, given how you two cuddled occasionally, kissed occasionally, and went on occasional dates. It stressed you out more to try to figure out what it was than just enjoying it. 

Plus, you knew Conrad cared for you, and you cared for him. That was all that really mattered to you anyway. 

Even when summer ended, you two talked all the time, which was not out of the norm for the two of you. The only difference was the occasional sexting. 

Things were occasional between the two of you, if you couldn't tell by now.

Winter break in Cousin's was your favorite, and when your college gave the students a week off, you were ecstatic. Every year, you never manadged to catch the Conklin and Fisher family, given how they were always given a few weeks off in January instead of February. You grabbed your keys, packed a bag, and headed straight for Cousin's.

Things with Conrad this week had been amazing, but you could tell things were a bit more romatic. Before it was easy to difirenciate when you were only friends and when you were in need of physical touch or intimacy, but now things were all fused and mixed together. 

It didnt bother you enough to talk about it though and neither did he, so you left it at that

You put the last bits of the dishes into the dryer before brushing your hands against the fabric of your cotton shorts. Jeremiah walked into the room with his keys in his hand. "Were headed out."

You looked over at him, grabing your phone and scanning it for any new messages. "Sounds okay,"

"We'll probably be back late, you and Conrad going to be okay?" You deadpanned at the boy.

"We'll be fine," You walked over to him, grabbing him by the shoulders and leading him towards the front door, where Steven and Belly stood. "You go have fun with Steven and Belly, god knows you need to take the poor girl out."

"Thank you," Belly said, agreeing with you. "Mom said she'd be back with Susanah in a few hours." 

You nodded, feeling the breeze of the cold air hit your bare shoulders as Steven opened the front door. Steven jumped. "Oh shit! Almost forgot." 

"That monstrousity came for you today," Steven said, pointing over to your left. "It had a small card, some sappy bullshit on it." 

"For me?" You looked over to the side, letting your jaw slack slightly. Placed perfectly in the middle of the table was a huge bouquet full of red roses and white tulips, both of your favorite flowers. They were carefully wrapped in white and silver paper, adorned almost perfectly with a pink satin bow. 

You never got much on Valentine's Day; you were used to giving the presents, not receiving them. You looked at the group aprehensively once more before walking carefully over to the table. You picked up the small card, reading it carefully: 'Happy Valentines Day pretty girl'

You felt your heart thump against your chest. You let out a small chuckle as your cheeks turned red, knowing exactly who these were from. "Dumbass.."

"What was that about not having a boyfriend?" Belly butted in, causing you to snap out of your lovesick trance. You turned to the three of them, who were eyeing you as you stumbled on your words. 

"Just- uhm, some guy thats been bothering me," You nervously chuckled, rubbing the back of your neck. The three of them looked at each other. 

"Conrad's gonna be pissed." Steven whispered before closing the door and heading out. You laughed to yourself and looked up the stairs, shaking your head. If only they knew. You placed the card down, looking back at the flowers once more before heading upstairs. 

You turned the corner, knocking softly on Conrad's door. With a hum on his side, you pushed the door open. He was standing near his bed with his shirt in his hand, and off of his body.

"Hey," He said, tossing the shirt into his already open closet. "I was just heading to bed." 

You smiled to yourself while crossing your arms, leaning against the door frame. "I thought you didn't do that lovey valentines day shit" 

He paused, looking at you with a perplexed look on his face. You rolled your eyes, walking into the room and closing the door behind you. Conrad eyed you carefully as you made your way to him. "Are you talking about the flowers?"

"Yes Conrad, I'm talking about the flowers," You said, placing a kiss onto his lips. He smiled into the kiss, letting his hands reach your waist, giving you the space your wrap your arms around his neck. You smiled widely into the kiss, not being able to contain your giddiness. 

Your heart was beating wrapidly in your chest, a feeling only Conrad gave you. You pushed into the kiss, deepening it as you directed his body towards his bed. The back of his knees hit the matress, forcing him to sit on the matress, which gave you the space to crawl onto his lap. 

You pulled away, looking down at the blonde boy whom you were currently straddling. "I'm guessing you liked them?”

"How'd you know roses and tulips were my favorite?" You said, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear as you admired the facial features you had grown to love. 

"I pay attention," He leaned forward, kissing the spot on your jaw just below your ear, causing a small giggle to erupt from your chest. 

"Thank you," You whispered, pulling away from him and looking into his eyes deeply. "You didn't have to, really."

He stared back at you, heart fluttering wildly. A feeling he was used to feeling around you, something only you brought out in him. It seemed that no matter how many girls would pop into his life or would come up to him at any frat party, you were always the first one on his mind. You were the only one on his mind.

"Of course I did," He kissed your cheek. "Its not even a quarter of what you deserve."

There it was again. He His your jaw again, trsiling soft delicate kissing up your neck. They were affectionate, none trying to iniciate something. Just soft pecks adorned with love and adoration. You let your hands enravel themselves into his hair, sighing in contentment. 

"Things have changed haven’t they?" You whispered as you pulled his body closer to yours. 

"Mhm," He agreed. You looked at the wall in front of you.

"Can we talk about it?" 

Conrad pulled away, looking at you with a look on his face. You stared back in silence. "Talk to me,"

You sighed, not really knowing what to say. Your heart fluttered at the sight of his attention, listening closely to what you had to say. 

The thing is you didnt know what to say. All you knew is that you cared about the boy in front of you a lot, and this ocassional thing has been going on for so long now. You knew you didnt want to end anything, fuck no. But you wanted more and you were scared it was a one paged thing. 

"Whyd you sent me the flowers?" You asked, paying close attention to his features. He smiled to himself, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

"Becuase," He started. "You love Valentines day, and you love recieving gifts, giving them as well, but not a lot of people know you like recieving them as well."

He continued. "You hate the color orange, you say it makes you squirmy and uncomfortable. Your favorite movies Rapunzel, great choice by the way,"

"You give so much to the people you love and I can vouch for that." He grabbed your hands, carresing them softly in his own. 

You looked at him in silence. "I don't want to do this thing occasionally anymore, I want it always.”

You and Conrad had always had a strong relationship, and its been a long time since it stopped being just platonic. You knew everything about him and so did he. Hell, it probably stopped being platonic before you even had sex with him for the first time.

Both of you could’ve saved yourselves months of time if you’d let yourself feel what you were meant to feel for each other sooner.

“So this mean what exactly? That you’re officially asking me to be your ‘girlfriend’” You asked, saying the word that felt so foreign. You knitted your eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

“If that’s something you want,” He said, hope and anxiety flooding his gaze. You stared down at him, smiling softly. You leaned in.

“I’d like that.” You closed the gap between the two of you, sighing deeply into the kiss.

Something inside you felt satisfied. As if your body had been longing for a confirmation that Conrad really was just yours.

He had always been.

You pulled away, hands resting at his bare shoulders as your foreheads rested against each other.

“Can we watch Tangled now?” You asked, voice laced with excitement. He rolled his eyes, pecking your lips softly.

“Duh.”

#fanfic #fic rec #otp prompts #aesthetic #fiction #conrad fisher #conrad x reader #the summer i turned pretty #tsitp #team conrad #fanfiction #love #lovers

[suuuupernovaaa]

Green | Hobie Brown x f!Spider!Reader

"And you are... green, everywhere?" "I am. Are you pierced everywhere?"

Based on this request.

My chest is heaving as the dust settles. Whatever they've got going on in this dimension, it's bigger than anything I've ever dealt with in mine. I handle mostly... petty crime, the occasional super boss, sometimes even a bad guy with powers but, none of them have really proven a match for me.

It helps that I can read their minds, but still, my dimension is pretty relaxed, as far as dimensions go. I've got it easier than other spider-people.

Feeling a little cramped up in my suit, I pull my mask off and take in a breath of clean, crisp air. No matter what I do, I can't make the mask breathable enough. If I'm fighting, I can put off thinking about it for long enough, but I'm always ready to get the mask off the moment the fighting is done.

"Whoa," someone says just behind me, the word quiet and heavy, let out on a puff of air.

I turn to see Gwen standing by one of her other Spider-friends, the one with the guitar and the studded vest. Please, take off your mask, I think. Are you as handsome as I'm thinking?

Gwen pulls hers off first, grinning at me with her gap-toothed smile. "Y/N!" she shouts, running over and wrapping me into a hug. "Thank you! Ohmigod, we could not have done that without you."

Leather-vest spider-man pulls his mask off next, and I have never been less disappointed in my life. Piercing brown eyes, full pierced lips, high sharp cheekbones, and a gorgeous head of voluminous hair shooting in every direction.

"Wow," I whisper, looking past Gwen, who giggles a little bit. I focus back on her, a little embarrassed. "Happy to help!"

She reaches up, taking a strand of braided hair between her fingers. "I like this! And seriously, thank you. It always gives us an edge when you help."

I wave my hand in the air and shrug. "It's usually such an annoying, uh, talent. I'm glad it helped."

"You read minds, right?" leather-vest spider-man says, coming up behind Gwen.

"Y/N, this is Hobie. Hobie, this is Y/N. And that's Miles over there, and Pavitr." Gwen does a round of introductions, and I wonder how many names I will remember. Miles and Pavitr are cute, to be sure, but Hobie...

"I do, but it doesn't work on Spider-People. That used to really piss Miguel off," I reply with a chuckle. "Probably why he didn't mind when I left his band."

Hobie raises an eyebrow. "Did you now?"

"Yeah. I didn't like being told what to do. I like my simple little universe."

He reaches out, grabbing my arm and turning it over, examining the suit. "And you are... green, everywhere?"

"I am. Are you pierced everywhere?"

"Jesus," Gwen hisses under her breath, and turns to join Miles and the other guy, who's name I have already forgotten.

"That came out much more suggestive than I meant it to. But yes, I am green all over and I read minds. But that's kind of it. It's the usual Spider stuff besides that. And you - someone said Spider-Punk?"

He shrugs, hands in the vest he wears over his spider suit. "Yeah. I didn't choose it. Kind of stuck."

"I like it. Mine is just Spider-Woman. Very basic."

"Yeah, but you can fuckin' read minds," Hobie replies, leaning forward, a very serious look on his face. "What's the best thing you've ever heard?"

I stop, pursing my lips as I think back over the hundreds of thousands of thoughts I've unwittingly heard. Before I could control my powers, it was loud all the time, like the volume was dialed all the way up on the entire world, and I could hardly filter of focus on one single thought.

"Honestly, usually the people I'm fighting, hearing their thoughts makes it hard. They usually aren't psychopaths or totally unfeeling. They have, y'know, internal conflict, the same as anyone else. Sometimes they've seen some really awful stuff, or something just, unimaginable has happened to them. And I feel kind of bad, kicking their ass, right? It gives me an advantage but... it makes it hard, to just see them as the enemy."

Hobie's face softens and he leans back, as if he is very carefully considering what I've just said.

"Shit. You're very interesting. I'm glad you can't read my thoughts."

I throw my head back laughing. "Me too. Maybe."

"Can I take you out, sometime? A show or, dinner, whatever?" he asks, and my laughter is stopped in its tracks.

A date?

We just met.

We're from different universes. He's not green. They'll notice him, if he comes to mine... they'll notice me, if I go to his. It wouldn't be sustainable.

But maybe it would be fun?

He bites his lip, rocking back and forth on the heels of his shoes as he waits for an answer.

It's not a very good idea. It probably couldn't go further than one date. It's not like either of us can leave our dimensions. They need us.

God, he's tall. He's lean but his muscles are firm, and his jawline makes me feel absolutely feral.

It's good he can't read my thoughts, either.

"I'm free tomorrow night. Gwen can tell you how to get ahold of me."

He smiles, a wide smile, nearly stretching ear to ear, and my heart speeds up in my chest.

"Brilliant," he says.

I know I'm making a mistake - but it won't be the first time, or the last.

#hobie brown #Hobie brown x reader #Hobie brown x you #Hobie brown fic

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Dating in Your 20s

kai parker x reader

summary: it's been a while since you've been on a date, but after months of swiping right, you finally think you've found the one. or, so you thought.

tags: college au (ish), online dating, the scull bar, alcohol, use of date rape drugs / roofies, protective!kai, slightly less sociopathic!kai

word count: 2.2k

a/n: so i've been overly critical of my work lately, and haven't posted a few things i've written because i haven't thought they were good enough. but then i realized that no matter how dumb or cheesy they might be, someone might still enjoy them, so i'm going to post them anyway, especially while i get back into the swing of things. so these next few posts might not be my favorites, but i hope they still make some of you smile <3

It feels like forever since you’ve last been on a date. Ever since the tumultuous relationship with your ex, you’ve been afraid to re-enter the dating pool. It isn’t easy to find people you match with; either your hobbies align, but they’re too cocky, or the conversation’s okay, but you share nothing in common. You’ve been scouring the popular apps for months after realizing you’re ready to try again, but it hasn’t been easy. 

That is, until you finally find the perfect match for you. 

Two nights ago, you started talking. He’s just your type, and a great conversationalist. There’s a picture with him and his dog in his bio - a plus, and he’s void of any pictures of him holding fish - a bigger plus. The only downside is that his name starts with, “J”, but that’s the only red flag you see. 

So, when he asks you on a date after a well-recovered cheesy pick-up line, you agree.

The Scull Bar. Seven o’clock. 

To your own surprise, you find yourself excited. 

~~~

Conversation flows in person as well as it did on the app. He has a cute smile, and gentle wrinkles on the sides of his eyes that only appear when he laughs. He’s about a year older than you, but once you hit your twenties, that doesn’t matter too much. You talk for about an hour, sharing some details about your personal lives. School life, work life, any hobbies not previously mentioned, and some about family and friends. He mentions a crazy ex-girlfriend, which is where you reply, “same, but with my ex-boyfriend.” And while that topic made you a little uneasy, you’re still enjoying yourself, so you try not to linger on it. 

As the time on your phone nears nine o’clock, you both agree to get a drink before you part ways. It is a Friday, after all, and the town is small enough that the bar is somewhat a walking distance to your dorm. Of course, you won’t tell him where you live on the first date, but you assure him you won’t be drinking and driving.

With a laugh, he nods, then you both order a round. 

“I’m going to hit the bathroom real quick,” you say, needing to pee after all the water you anxiously drank before you left your house. 

“Alright, no worries.”

On the opposite side of the bar, a curious eye watches the interaction. In fact, he’s been watching you the whole time, suspicious of your date. Kai thought it was weird for the man to sit at the bar, rather than an actual table. You seemed to shrug it off quickly, but the young witch has kept his sights on you just in case. 

For years, Kai has learned to read people through their body language. He can smell out bad intentions from a mile away, and even though he’s never seen this man in his life, he gets them from him. Kai doesn’t know you well, either, but has seen you in the background of vampire collateral. You live in Elena, Caroline, and Bonnie’s dorm building, and every time you accidentally walk into something you shouldn’t see, Stefan or Damon have to compel it from your mind. Kai admits he feels a bit bad for all the students at Whitmore who’ve had their minds wiped a thousand times because the stupid Salvatores are always running a muck around their school. 

Of course, he doesn’t usually care too much about anyone, but there’s something he likes about you. Somehow, you’ve managed to be at the scene of every crime. And while you don’t remember it, the two of you have made eye contact each time it’s happened. Then, after you’re compelled to forget, you give him the cutest quizzical look that makes his breath catch in his throat. 

Kai doesn’t know enough about you to know you’d be on a date tonight, but he’s listened and observed enough to know this is your first one with this guy. And shit, as much as he doesn’t want to care, he can’t help but feel a strange protectiveness over you. 

So, he’s been watching. And listening. And through your words and body, he’s learned a lot about you. But, he’s also learned a lot about your date. As you go to the bathroom for a moment, he learns a little bit more. 

The man occupies himself with his phone while awaiting your return. He laughs and scrolls, laughs and scrolls, then double taps to like something, and all the while, Kai cringes. Not one minute have you been gone, and he already needs his phone to entertain him. The witch rolls his eyes and sips his own drink. As he does, the bartender slides yours and his to your date, who then thanks him with a passing glance. Kai watches him put his phone down. His hand retreats to his pocket, and his eyes search for the bathroom door. His leg bounces with slight nervousness as he discreetly pulls something out and drops it in your drink. Kai pulls his mouth off his straw, suspicious. Your date brushes off his hands and picks his phone back up. His leg continues to bounce. 

In an instant, Kai slides into the seat beside him. It’s a silent and ominous trick he loves; he’d used it on Damon and Bonnie a thousand times in the prison world. 

“Hey,” he taps the man once on the shoulder. 

Your date spins around and jumps, hand to his heart. “Fuck! Dude, you scared me. What the hell?”

“What are you doing over here?”

“What do you mean, ‘what am I doing?’ I’m on a date, fuck off.”

“Yeah, but you’re-”

“Hey, sorry,” you return, “there was a bit of a line.”

“That’s fine. This jackass here-”

“Who is this?” You accidentally interrupt, spotting Kai. He was strangely familiar, yet not at all recognizable, as if you’d seen him in a dream. 

“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying. This jackass just slid over here and prodded me. Go away, dude.”

Kai nods to you. “Can’t do that. Hey, you said you’re on a date? That’s fun. Is it your first?”

You narrow your eyes. “What’s it matter to you?”

“Just curious.” He jabs his thumb to his old seat. An abandoned blue cocktail sits, half drunk, on the bar. “I was just sitting over there just a minute ago and happened to see your date, out of the corner of my eye, fumbling with some pill or powder type of thing. Curious thing is that he put one in your drink, but not his own.”

“What?”

“You’re full of shit,” your date grumbles, turning red, “you’re making that up.”

“Why would I make that up? I saw something, and reported it. Isn’t that the new slogan, ‘see something, say something’?”

“Did you put something in my drink while I was gone?”

“Of course not! Why would you think that? Believe this stranger over me?! Thought this date was going well, now you’re accusing me of roofies?”

“I’m not accusing, I’m just asking! Why would he say that if he didn’t suspect-?”

“God, you are turning out to be just like my ex!”

“Hey, excuse me!? It’s just a question, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

The man sighs dramatically. His mood changes on a dime. “I’m not upset, I’m just… hurt that you’d suggest that. I don’t want to hurt you, Y/N. I would never hurt you.”

You blink, confused by the sudden sulkiness. “Wha-?”

“Here’s this, alright?” Kai starts. “My sister’s a bartender here, so I know they have those little strips that you can put in drinks to test if they’ve been drugged. They’re behind the counter.” Kai reaches over the bar without asking, and pulls a box of them from god-knows-where.

“How do we know you didn’t drug it?” Your date asks Kai.

“I was over there. And why would I do that? I’m not the one on a date with the pretty girl.”

“But you sure seem to know your way around the bar.”

“Are you suggesting the bartenders spike the drinks?”

“I-”

“Right. Purple means spiked. Blue means it’s clear.” He carelessly drops a stick in and lets it float around the surface. The three of you watch curiously, but interest turns to horror as it fades into purple in a matter of seconds. “Hm.”

Suddenly, your ex fishes the paper out and flicks it onto a napkin. “This is stupid! You set me up!”

“I’m still failing to see the point where I would do that on purpose.”

“Shut the hell up, jackass. Maybe you’re just a sociopath that likes to ruin dates for fun, because you have some stupid vendetta against people that are happy.”

“Actually, I’m just looking out for her,” he looks at you, “I’ve seen my fair share of men spiking drinks around here. It’s rather pathetic, actually, that you guys are so lame that you have to hurt girls to get any attention.”

“Fuck you, man. I could have you arrested for accusing me of this bullshit.”

“On the contrary, I could have you arrested.”

He scoffs, turning to you. “You don’t believe this guy, do you?”

You bite your lip. “I don’t know. I don’t- I don’t want to.”

“You don’t. Because it’s completely ridiculous!”

“J-”

“Oh! A ‘J’ name! That should’ve been your first red flag, princess.”

He rolls his eyes again. “Fuck you. You know, I’m out. This is bullshit. Screw you both.” With that, he grabs his jacket and leaves. 

You stare straight ahead, still processing what happened. After a moment, you slouch down in your chair and plant your face into the bar counter. “What the hell.”

“Sorry I ruined your date.”

You glance up at the stranger. “Did he really spike it? You saw it?”

“I wouldn’t have gotten involved if he didn’t. I’ve seen it too many times around here. A lot of the time, bartenders catch it, but they’re pretty busy today.”

“Well… thank you for noticing.” You shake your head. “Just when I was feeling comfortable enough to start dating again, someone has to go and be weird.”

Kai chuckles. “Let me buy you a drink for your troubles. Promise I won’t spike it.”

You hesitate, tempted, but a little embarrassed by the whole situation. Part of you just wants to go home and bury yourself under blankets for the rest of the night, but another part of you wants to repay the guy for his kindness. You eye him as the two plans battle in your mind, but ultimately, you sigh and nod an approval. He obviously feels bad for how your night ended and wants to help. The cute dimples are a plus. 

“Same drink?”

“Nah, it’s ruined for me now. Maybe that blue thing you’re drinking over there.”

“Coming right up.”

“So I never got your name…” you ask, curious. 

“Kai. You?”

“Y/N.”

“Ah, nice. Suits you.”

“Thank you. You said you have a sister who works here?”

“Yeah, the curly-haired blonde over there. To be honest, we don’t get along too well, but we have a deal. I can hang around as long as I help her and her staff stay on top of mother-disappointing college boys and their date rape drugs.”

“Really?”

“Unfortunately, this bar is full of them.”

“Well on behalf of girls everywhere, thank you.”

He half smiles. “To be honest, I had a rocky start to life. Did some bad things that landed me nowhere good; that’s why my sister and I aren’t on the best of terms. But I’m trying to be better now, and this, I think, is one good step in that direction.”

“I can get down with that. Admitting your wrongs and wanting to do better. Doubt even half the guys in here would admit their missteps.”

Your drinks arrive - Kai got a second of the one he hadn’t finished - and you both take a sip before nodding. 

“Good?”

“Much needed. Thank you, again.”

“Of course. And hey, if you ever need me again, I’m usually here.”

“To be honest, I hope I don’t.” You chuckle playfully. “But, maybe I can see you anyway?” Kai’s surprised expression rattles your confidence. You stutter out the next few words, “not like, on a date or anything. Unless you’d want to. But I’m totally just cool hanging out. It’s just… it’s not everyday a cute guy saves you from a date gone-wrong. Gotta at least ask.”

The man smiles, pulling out his phone. He hands it to you to add your number. “I’d love to, whether on a date or just hanging out.”

“Really?” 

“‘Course. Next Friday?”

“Works for me.”

 “I have to warn you, though, I haven’t been on a date in a long time.”

“Oh before this, I haven’t either.”

“Good. I feel better already.”

You giggle, smacking his arm playfully.

The two of you stay there as you finish your drinks. Around eleven, you wrap up to go home. Kai offers to drive you, but you promise you have a short walk and a small knife in your back pocket, and he nods. 

“So, see you Friday?”

He winks. “It’s a date.”

#malachai parker x reader #kai parker x reader #tvd fanfiction #tw: roofies

[highqueenofelfhame]

a/n: if you've been here for awhile or read through my masterlist, you might remember this one. it became a fan favorite but it was written when i first entered the fandom and there have been things i wanted done differently. things i wanted to rewrite or write better. so i'm doing it. it'll be the same story you love, if you love it, just better, longer, more thought out. a lot will stay the same but alot will change. if yu're wondering what the fuck i'm talking about, a rough version of this story exits on my masterlist titled "all i ask of you." anyway. i hope you enjoy this.

rowaelin // 5.8k words // masterlist

Sweat trickled in little streams down his back, gluing the tan, standard-issue shirt he wore to every dip and curve of his torso. On most assignments, Rowan Whitethorn didn't mind his uniform. Generally speaking, the material was lightweight enough in most climates that they stayed comfortable. The boots were heavy, sure, but they were comfortable. 

In the middle of the desert, he hated all of it. The best time of the day was when he took it off to duck under a cold shower, then crawled into bed in nothing but his undershorts. Unfortunately for him, that was a long way off. The sun scorched them to the bone, and the slight breeze did nothing but send sand whirling through the air. 

When Rowan got out of the Red Desert, he never wanted to see a single grain of sand ever again. 

He walked down the street to the two small houses they used as a base. If anything, they were more akin to rundown shacks in a shanty town, but it worked. One was used for communications, and all their tech was set up throughout various rooms. They took turns on night watch, monitoring the cameras and comms for anything that looked amiss. 

The other house was where they ate, bathed, and slept. Nobody had a semblance of privacy here, save for the shitty little bathroom. All the men but Lorcan doubled up in the rooms and slept on glorified cots every night, often mumbling to their roommates to stop tossing and turning. Their beds tended to creak and groan with every subtle movement. On bad days, tension soared until they inevitably went outside to beat each other senseless in the form of hand-to-hand combat practice.

The houses were on the outskirts of an impoverished chunk of land that couldn't even be considered a village at this point, though once upon a time, it had been a well-populated township. Now there were just rundown buildings and dilapidated houses that people crammed into for shelter. Less than two thousand people remained living in the desolate stretch of desert. All of them were skin and bones, the malnourished ghosts of who they used to be. 

Over their last few months of being abandoned in the Red Desert, they learned that the breadwinners of the family, usually men, pedaled bicycles to the surrounding towns for work. A few of them were forced to walk, which was a feat in itself– the closest town was ten miles away and would take them well over two hours to arrive. Rowan had also learned, mainly from the children, that the ones that walked stayed in cheap inns during the week if they could afford it. Everything else was funneled into food and any other necessities they required, including running water that they really only used to cook and bathe.

Most of the women homeschooled their children to the best of their ability. Generally, they could read, write, and perform basic math. Much else was lost due to the lack of accessible tools for anything beyond that. Rowan had an intense respect for the people that dwelled here and did their best with what they had. 

On the other hand, he could kill every government official who continued to leave these people behind. There was no excuse for such an extreme display of poverty in this day and age. It was made worse by how kind the people were. They lived in the worst conditions they had ever seen, yet still found joy in the little things.

Case in point: a few of the kids that Rowan gave the candy from his MREs to were chasing a soccer ball around the makeshift pitch Fenrys had built for them. He and his twin brother, Connall, were playing with the gaggle of teenage boys and girls, their bright laughter chipping away at his frozen heart. It had been long since anything had threatened to thaw his frozen core, but those children whooping and hollering got to him.

Rowan lifted a hand in greeting, shaking his head but offering a tight smile when they shouted for him to join them. If Lorcan hadn't summoned him, he probably would have. They had done a fat lot of nothing today besides trying to stay out of the sun. Rowan had only left the communications house less than an hour ago to stretch his legs. 

Once inside, he found Lorcan sitting at the desk in the room they considered their office. It wasn't much more than a couple of chairs and a folding table, but it got the job done. Rowan rapped his knuckles against the door frame as he entered and leaned against it, folding his arms across his chest. 

"You wanted to see me?" There was no point in bothering with formalities unless people outside the Cadre were around. They rarely pulled rank amongst themselves. Rowan was second in command, but they usually viewed it as a partnership more than anything else.

"Yep," Lorcan exhaled, putting his pen down and bracing his arms on the edge of the table. Every muscle in his face was tense, down to the feathering of his jaw as he eyed Rowan. This didn't bode well. Whatever he was about to say wasn't good. There was no light hiding in the shadows of his dark eyes. Lorcan had a shit poker face when it came to bad news. With a jerk of his chin, he added, "Sit down." 

"What happened?" Rowan slid into one of the folding chairs across from him and braced his hands on his knees. 

 "We're going to be a team of six again, starting tomorrow morning." That was all? That didn't seem like the tragedy he looked ready to drop on Rowan's head. 

They used to be a group of six until Gavriel retired last year, and they still weren't used to being down to five men. While each of them brought forth their strengths and balanced out their weaknesses, an even number of people made things easier on missions because everyone could be paired off into two teams. During their last few, they had all wished for that extra body. Having another person would be great, especially if he was skilled enough to keep up with the rest of them. 

Though several special ops units existed in the Terrasen Navy, Rowan's was the most elite and the smallest. Every other team had at least a dozen men assigned to it, but it wasn't necessary with the Cadre, the name Rowan's ex bestowed upon them. All of them were over six feet tall and corded with muscle. What they lacked in numbers, they made up for in skill. There was a reason they didn't push to replace Gavriel when he retired. Nobody else was a match for them in any capacity and would have been in the way more than anything else. 

"Why don't you look happy about it?" Rowan asked, relaxing a bit and leaning back in his chair. Lorcan looked like he was grinding his teeth to dust and savoring the pain that came with it.

 "Because I'm not."

"You had to approve it. He must be good enough to hold his own with the rest of us." His commander wouldn't accept anyone unless he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he could do his job with expert precision. 

Lorcan scratched his jaw, nails scraping against the stubble he hadn't bothered to shave away that morning as he said, "It’s not a he.”

Rowan’s blood turned to ice in his veins so quickly that he shivered for the first time in several months. Every hair on his body stood at attention, skin pebbling down his arms, shaking his head in a single sharp movement as he ground out, “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to know who she was. Her name had been whispered up and down the grapevine over the last few years as she quickly climbed the ranks. At this point, she was almost as decorated as he was, and he had been at it for three years longer. Thousands of women served in the various military branches, but only one had ever been good enough to break the glass ceiling and become a Ghost Leopard. 

The Ghost Leopards were Terrasen’s most elite special operations unit. No other military group came close to the skill and drive they had. Most people didn’t even try to join— the physical, mental, and emotional strength demanded was too much for many to handle. Rowan’s unit was the best the Ghost Leopards had to offer. 

Rowan knew she had been part of two different ops teams, but never in a million years did he think she would join his own. Not because she wasn’t good enough. There was no question in his mind that she didn’t belong. Lorcan disliked the woman on a good day, yet he had approved her joining the Cadre after putting personal bias aside. 

No, she had definitely earned it; he could admit that much. Rowan had just doubted that she would ever want to share any amount of oxygen with him ever again. Her assignment to the Cadre likely hadn’t been her own idea. Whoever initiated it must well and truly detest Rowan, though. The gods were playing a cruel, sick joke on him. 

Lorcan’s features were frozen with tension, lips curling at the corners in distaste as he said, “Aelin Galathynius arrives tomorrow.” 

~*~

All five men stood in a straight line, feet shoulder-width apart and hands clasped behind their backs. They had decided on the dressed-down version of their uniform, foregoing the over shirts with patches, ranks, and names on them. They each wore the same tan t-shirt tucked into pants in a multi camouflage pattern in shades of brown. It perfectly matched the sandy ocean they were trapped in. 

Heavy black boots anchored Rowan to the ground while they watched the helicopter land a few hundred yards away, kicking up enough dust that they were all happy about the sunglasses and camouflage balaclavas they wore. Without them, the sand would be in every fucking orifice for days on end. 

The newest member of their team finally hopped out, landing with feline grace. To anyone else, she would have been unrecognizable with her face and eyes covered. Not even her hair peeked out as she walked toward them, heaving her bags higher on her shoulder. Rowan would know her anywhere, though.

It wasn’t until the helicopter returned to the skies and the dust settled that she finally pulled her balaclava down around her neck to expose her face. The aviator-style sunglasses stayed perched on her nose, and though her hair was slicked back into a bun at the nape of her neck, the golden strands still shimmered in the sun. The only difference in her uniform was that she wore her blouse with the sleeves rolled up and over her elbows.  Seeing her like this made his vision cloudy at the edges, the memory of their first meeting creeping to the forefront of his mind. He forcefully shoved it away.

The sixty seconds it took her to be within ten feet of them seemed to happen too quickly and in slow motion all at the same time. No emotion flickered over her face, not even her mouth, which usually wore a smirk. Aelin Galathynius was all business.

Hearing her name multiple times in the last twenty-four hours had his mind twisted around itself in a tight knot he couldn’t unwind. Typically, everyone avoided bringing her up when they could, yet now he was seeing her in the flesh for the first time in years. With his heart trying to break his ribs, he was surprised that he heard Lorcan call her by her last name when she stopped before him. 

It probably killed her to do it, but she saluted him the way she would any other commander. Lorcan gave her a nod in return, and her body relaxed. Aelin’s bags slid from her shoulders and landed with a thud on the ground at her feet. Rowan heard her sigh for the first time in ages as her hands dropped to her hips, and she gave them all a once-over.

Light and mischief danced in her fiery blue gaze until she looked at him. Any semblance of emotion flickered out like he’d extinguished the fire that burned within. It wasn’t the first time he had seen her eyes look so damn empty when turned on him. Her dead gaze yanked him two and half years in the past, holding him at gunpoint as he remembered the first time she had ever looked at him that way. 

“I promise. Okay?” Rowan’s hands held Aelin’s cheeks like she was the most precious thing in the world to him because she was. It didn’t matter what he said or did, though. That heavy sadness wouldn’t dissipate, and she wouldn’t look at him. 

“Rowan, I told you–” 

“Baby, it’s the last one, and then I’ll take a job in the city, and it won’t be like this anymore. It’s going to get better, and we’re going to be okay.” He only had minutes left with her, and he hated wasting it like this. It would have been better spent sharing kisses or with him exploring her body to prove how much he loved her. Instead, when they woke up, Aelin had retreated so deeply within herself that he didn’t feel like he could reach her.

“You’ve said twice now that it was going to be the last time. When is it actually going to be the last time, Rowan?” Gods, he really didn’t want to fight with her before he left.

“This is the last deployment I’m going to make,” he swore, and he meant it. He’d already told his commander, and as much as he had hated it, at the end of the day, Lorcan understood. “I don’t want to fight with you right now.”

“I wanted you to stay and pick me for once, so I guess neither of us is getting what we want, are we?” The look in her eyes wasn’t one he’d ever received from her. There was no warmth of love, just a distant chill that felt so tangible goosebumps crawled along his skin. 

 “Aelin,” he sighed, tugging her until he could wrap his arms around her even though she tried to resist. At complete odds with her expressions and words, her arms tightened around his waist, and she fisted his jacket in her hands. Like this was their hardest goodbye yet, she refused to let him go. 

They stood like that for several minutes, Rowan’s lips pressed to the top of her head while he breathed in her scent one more time. Nothing ever came close to how much he missed her when he was gone. Every deployment, he took something of hers with him, falling asleep to the faint scent of jasmine until time washed away any sign of its owner. 

“You’re going to be late,” she finally said, pulling back and wiping her face with the back of her wrist. 

“This is the last time,” he swore for a final time, taking her face between his palms and wiping at her cheeks. Aelin nodded, eyes fixed somewhere over his shoulder. 

“Yeah. Okay.” The goodbyes were always hard, but this time was different. A warning bell was chiming in the back of his head, but he pushed it aside. They made it through everything else over the last five years, and they would pull through this, too. 

“I love you.” Rowan kissed her, his heart shattering at the feel of her quivering mouth against his. A sob slipped out of her lips, her shoulders caving in. Aelin shook her head, letting it fall to read against his chest. “Hey. We’re okay.”

They were. It was an argument they’d had over and over for the last few years. While Aelin loved active duty, she had taken a desk job a few months ago when they had agreed that when Rowan got back from his last deployment, it was his last. Lorcan had begged him for one more tour because Gavriel was talking about retiring, and he didn’t want to lose them both at the same time. The day Rowan returned and told his girlfriend he was doing one last twelve month deployment, it immediately became a fight that wouldn’t end.

Aelin was twenty-six and genuinely loved her job, but she had wanted to start planning their future. Rowan was twenty-nine, and while he did want those things, he still wanted to keep building his legacy and rake in every ounce of glory while he still could. He wanted nothing more than Aelin, and he knew they could stick it out for one more year. They were strong enough to handle anything thrown at them. Of that, he was absolutely certain. 

While the fighting had led to a lot of high tension in their house, they still loved each other at the end of the day. Even when it was hard, and they went months without hearing each other’s voices or seeing one another, they shared such a rare, blinding love that nothing could fracture it.  

“I love you,” he said once more, kissing her trembling lips and wiping her tears away. 

“I love you, too.” But her eyes didn’t meet his, and it was the image of her crying in the foyer that chased him into fitful sleep every night after.

 ~*~

“Aelin Galathynius,” Fenrys drawled, shaking his head as he took her in. Over the formalities of the situation, Aelin pulled off her sunglasses and dropped into a low bow with her arms spread wide. As soon as she pulled her eyes from Rowan and looked at their mutual best friend, she grinned. 

“At your service,” she crooned with a wink. Down the line, Rowan snorted and turned on his heel,  just about stomping the entire way back to the house. Aelin’s eyes rolled, and Fenrys held his arms open for a hug. With a squeal and a joyous giggle, she ran for him and leaped into his waiting arms. 

 “As soon as Salvaterre said we were getting a sixth again, I fucking knew it was you.” His voice was low in her ear as he spun them in a circle, finally putting her feet back on land so she could hug Connall and Vaughan. Aelin made no effort to further engage in conversation with Lorcan. They tolerated each other on a good day, and he was still watching Rowan as he disappeared into what she assumed was their living quarters.

 “I missed you the most out of everyone,” she told Fen as he hefted her bags over one shoulder and threw his other arm around her to lead her toward the house.

 “Even more than you missed Whitethorn?” It was a joke, one that wasn’t rewarded with laughter but by a swift jab to his ribs. He winced, lips pulling into a harsh frown. Aelin couldn’t help it. She smiled.

 “Is he still being a bitter asshole?”

 “Worse, if you can believe it,” Connall chimed in. A sigh was desperate to creep out of her lips, but she swallowed it down. She knew when she got the assignment that it wouldn’t be easy for her, Rowan, or anyone that had to be in close proximity to them. Aelin also knew that she could check the baggage at the door when it came down to doing their jobs. In their downtime, however… She was making no promises. 

“We cleared out a room for you. Fenrys can show you which one,” Lorcan shot over his shoulder as he walked past them, headed toward the house next to the one Rowan had entered. 

“I don’t need special treatment just because I’m a woman!” Lorcan merely waved dismissively over his shoulder and slammed the front door behind him.

“I promise there is no special treatment here in Hela’s fucking armpit,” Vaughan mumbled, nudging her with his shoulder as he brushed past. Indeed, it seemed their living quarters were a far cry from her house in Orynth. Not that the barracks or living situations on special missions were ever anything to write home about, but this was particularly shoddy. 

Fenrys led her inside, gesturing to each fixture in the common areas and trying to sell them for far more than their worth. It wasn’t the worst place Aelin had ever lived in her decade-long career in the military, but his jokes had her in stitches by the time he led her to her ‘bedroom.’

Really, it was more of an oversized closet with a cot, a chair for a nightstand, and a single light operated by a cord that dangled from the ceiling. Someone had put a small fan on top of the chair that she turned on to test the airflow. Beneath the cot was just enough space for her to slide her bags, and the door shut almost all the way. It refused to latch, but you win some and lose some. It wasn’t the worst and definitely beat sleeping outside or sharing a room with any of the boys. Aelin had spent enough time with military men to know they smelled horrible. 

Not that she smelled like jasmine at all hours of the day, but the women tended to try a little harder than the men did. It didn’t matter that she knew all of them personally. Maybe it was a little sexist, but she stood firm in the idea that women cared a little more about body odor than men.

After the grand tour was finished and she’d peeked into the guys' rooms, they walked back toward the kitchen. Aelin had arrived much later than planned, and Rowan was already preparing his MRE for dinner. The others quickly followed suit, and Fenrys knelt on the ground to dig through the box.

“Alright, we’ve got spaghetti with meat sauce, chili mac, a chicken stew, regular mac and cheese, and lemon pepper tuna.” 

“Chili mac,” she said, firm in her decision. It was one of the best ones, and with their supplies looking a little low, she didn’t know how it was even an option. 

Fenrys handed her the dinner, and she quickly removed all the contents. Along with the main entree, it held a few other snack items ranging from a beef jerky stick to a packet of Sour Patch Kids and a few things in between. She hummed contentedly at the fruit punch powder packet that she would most definitely add to her water. 

Aelin was forced to sidle up next to Rowan to fill her pouch with water to activate the one-time-use heater that came with the meals. He said nothing as their shoulders brushed until she was finished, folding her pouch over to avoid spillage. Aelin handed her food off to Fenrys while she relocated everything else to the small table that would barely hold them all. By the time she retrieved it and took her seat, Rowan was already in his chair. 

Because she simply couldn’t pass up on the opportunity, she sat next to him, not bothering to avoid their knees knocking or shoulders bumping as she settled. Again, he said nothing. Just stabbed at his own pouch of beef and barbecue and pretended she wasn’t there. 

“Are you going to give me the silent treatment?” Aelin nudged his elbow with hers, tilting her head to look at him. Rowan finally relented and gave her a sidelong glance. 

The others, including Lorcan, were claiming their seats. To their credit, it seemed that they were trying not to eavesdrop, but that was impossible in this house. Lorcan, however, looked ready to jump between them and dispel a fight that would leave two of his incredible assets licking their wounds.  

“I was thinking about it,” Rowan replied tersely, not looking up as he shoved a bite into his mouth. “Isn’t that what you’ve been doing for the last few years?”

“Ah, so Connall was right then.” Bitter asshole to his very core, apparently. Fenrys snickered at her remark beside her while Rowan tensed. Aelin could have been sitting up against a concrete wall and wouldn’t have known the difference. 

“What are you missing most about civilian life?” Fen asked, likely an attempt to prevent a verbal sparring match. He popped a skittle into his mouth and settled back in his rickety chair.  

“I barely remember what it’s like at this point, to be honest.” It was the truth. Aelin had thrown herself so thoroughly into work that she was only home for a few days at a time. The longest she’d been home was for a month last summer. There were days when she didn’t know what to do with herself and days when her mattress felt too soft, or the food too indulgent. Aelin pondered, mouth twisting to the side. “Usually, I would say long, hot showers. But I don’t think I’ll be craving any sort of heat while we’re here. Probably my nightgowns. I can handle everything else, but sleeping in silk is wildly underrated.”

“Can you not share intimate details while we’re eating?” Rowan grumbled. Aelin whipped her head around to look at him, her brow furrowed.

“Intimate details, my ass. You’ve literally been inside me. I don’t think it gets more intimate than that.” Had she chosen nightgowns specifically to wiggle her way under Rowan’s skin? Maybe. But it didn’t make his reaction any less stupid. “How the hell is sleepwear an intimate detail?” 

Rowan opened his mouth to respond, but Lorcan beat him to the punch, looking for all the world like he should have told them to put Aelin in someone else’s company as he said, “On the topic of civilian life–”

 “Please tell me we’re leaving this godsforsaken place,” Fenrys cut in, eyes wide and pleading. 

 “I just flew halfway around the world, and we’re leaving?” Aelin felt as exasperated as she sounded. It was a long way to travel to just turn around and head right back. She wasn’t eager to be cooped back up on any sort of aircraft so soon. 

“In three days,” Lorcan confirmed, shifting in his seat to pull a roll of paper from his back pocket that he dropped into the middle of the table. Six pairs of eyes peered down, scanning the words even though it was upside down for Fenrys, Aelin, and Rowan. “I didn’t find out until this morning, or we would have waited for you to join us then.”

 “What’s going on?”

 “Since we’ve been monitoring the border here for months and nothing is happening, we’re more useful elsewhere. Another unit will be stationed here while we go to Rifthold.”

“What’s happening in Rifthold?” Rowan asked, leaning back in his chair. Aelin did the same while taking a swig of fruit punch, eyeing the unused drink packet from Rowan’s meal kit. It was grape, and she knew he wouldn’t drink it because it was too sweet. Maybe she could steal it when he wasn’t paying attention.

 “A threat on the Crown Prince of Adarlan’s  life.” Lorcan’s tone lacked inflection. He could have been talking about the weather.

“I’m all for preventing an assassination, but we’re the Terrasen military. Why are we getting sent in for this?” Vaughan had a point. A good one, too. Not that any of them were really complaining. Going back to civilization would be a damn vacation for them, the boys more than Aelin. She hadn’t been hiding in a shack in the desert for the last four months.

“Because all signs point to it happening at the summer ball, and our President, along with a dozen high-ranking officials from our government, will be in attendance. Preventing the Prince’s assassination will save their lives, too.” Everyone murmured their agreement. “We don’t know where it came from, though. Our source is unclear on that, which will be the trickier part. All signs point to it being an inside job right now because things have been intense between the king and his oldest son.”

 “Dorian has been speaking out against a lot of his father’s policies. The king can’t do damage control fast enough. It was all over the papers when I was in Orynth last month. As quickly as the king puts out one fire, Dorian starts another. ‘Inside sources,’” Aelin added air quotes with her fingers for emphasis, “Claim that the king is getting really fed up. It’s causing a lot of unrest and protests among the people. More of them seem to agree with the prince than the king. It would make sense for it to be his doing.” 

“That,” Fenrys drawled, holding one finger, “Is fucked up.”

“It is,” Aelin agreed. “But things have always appeared to be rocky between them.”

“We’ll be going undercover for a while. Adarlan’s government isn’t asking for assistance on the issue, probably because they’re starting it to begin with. But we aren’t willing to risk their version of ‘taking care of things.’ And if it comes down to it, President Galathynius–” Lorcan’s eyes shot to Aelin when mentioning her uncle, “–would rather save the prince’s life and risk tension with Adarlan over it.” 

“Considering the King of Adarlan is a sexist, racist piece of shit, I don’t blame him,” Connall mused, letting his hair out of the bun it had been in since Aelin arrived. She agreed with her uncle. Dorian did as much as he could as a prince, but as king… He would pave the way to a better world. 

“Do we have covers yet?” Rowan leaned forward, reaching for the stack of papers Lorcan had presented to them. As he sifted through them, Aelin noticed the commander’s face getting tighter with every page Rowan skimmed. Her brow furrowed as she looked over her ex-boyfriend’s broad shoulder. 

“You two…” Lorcan hesitated. Almost like he was dreading the news he was about to bestow upon them. “The four of us will be blending in with the commoners. Our base will be a large manor set far enough out that nobody will notice we all congregate together.”

Beside her, Rowan went utterly rigid. If she thought he was tense before, it was nothing compared to now. The tendons in his neck were ready to snap. She swore she could see his pulse pounding in his neck as a vein protruded in the center of his forehead. 

“No,” Rowan said, shaking his head and throwing the papers on the table. Confused, Aelin snatched them up to read them herself. Fenrys leaned in to read along with her, one of his fingers tracing down the edge of the page.

“It wasn’t my call,” Lorcan said defensively, right as her eyes landed on the incriminating words that had Rowan’s body taut as a bowstring.

“This better be a fucking joke,” she spat, pushing out of her chair and rising to her feet. It had to be a joke, a prank, a hazing for joining their stupid little boyband. The harsh lines on her commander’s face said it was anything but. “Married? Out of all five of you to make me pretend to be married to, it’s Rowan that gets picked?”

“We don’t know how dangerous of a situation we’re walking into.” Lorcan tried to sound calm, but his eyes darted between the former couple like they might burn down the world out of spite. Aelin was considering it. “Rowan is the best of us at hand-to-hand combat should you ever need the defense–”

“I can fight for myself. I can protect myself. Fenrys could protect me just as well as Rowan if that were truly a concern.” It was risky to shout at her commander so much, especially on her first day, but Aelin was just past the point of caring. Every fuck she might be able to give was caught in a tornado of sand, plowing through the desert in the complete opposite direction.

“You know better than anyone that Rowan has skill sets that would work well while masquerading as a Duke, just like you do for being a Duchess. Fenrys is too loud-mouthed, and the other two lack the general composure to pretend to be royal. Rowan always has the quiet, dignified mask in his back pocket. He can talk his way out of–”

 “I don’t care,” she hissed, taking several steps from the table.

 “Ace…” Fenrys said quietly, leaning back in his chair to grab her hand. “Lorcan has a point.”

 “I know he does.” Aelin’s voice was muffled while she rubbed at her face. Nobody objected or disagreed with Lorcan’s mild insults because it was the truth. Sometimes, Fen didn’t know when to shut up, and while Vaughan and Connall could easily look the part, they were missing something that Rowan just had naturally. 

 When he walked into a room, he carried himself like he was important. Unlike typical royals, it wasn’t because he was looking down his nose at anyone but because he almost commanded respect from everyone. Rowan, as a royal, wouldn’t raise any eyebrows. Aelin knew that. She just wished she had more of a heads-up before getting thrown into something that hit a little too close to home where their former relationship was concerned.

 “I’m sorry for yelling.” Her eyes met Lorcan’s, and he shrugged. Now was not the time for him to assume she couldn’t do her job because she was an emotional woman. It was sexist bullshit, to begin with, but her time in the military told her it’s what they all thought of the women. No matter how hard they trained or how many times they proved themselves, women were silly, emotional creatures that couldn’t handle anything.

“I expected it. I know it won’t be easy for either of you.” Aelin couldn’t hide the surprise on her face. Not the raised brows or the way her mouth parted at his words. Maybe she undersold him. Just a little. “Rowan?”

 “Yeah.” The word was flat. Seeing his face wasn’t necessary to know his eyes were probably as vacant as he sounded.

 “Can you handle it?”

 “Don’t really have a choice, do I?” 

No, they didn’t have a choice, but if it would save multiple lives, they would manage. Their tumultuous past would stay where it belonged when they were in public and doing their jobs. Maybe they would even find a way to be civil by the end of it. There was also the possibility of everything going up in flames, one violent explosion at a time until everything was burned and nobody was marked safe from the fallout.

Aelin really wasn’t sure which one it would be.

@elentiyawhitethorn @autumnbabylon @fancysludgeshoelamp  @wordsafterhours @live-the-fangirl-life @the-hospitality-of-knives @tangledraysofsunshine @readandlisten @westofmoon @rowanaelinn  @morganofthewildfire @writtenonreceipts @feynightlight @emster1622-blog @scarblx @thefaetrove @loveyatopluto @actuallybarb @peppermint-fae @the-devils-own @scottmcgivemeacall @livingmylifeforme  @wordsafterhours @foreverfallingforthestars @llyncooljones @emily-gsh @loosesimplicity @emilyrose111294  @charlizeed @aelinchocolatelover @cretaceous-therapod @sayosdreams @fireheart-violet @the-regal-warrior @backtobl4ck @shyvioletcat @bellasbookboyfriends @icantfindmychashma

#rowaelin #some kind of haunted #military au #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #rowaelin fic #rowaelin fanfiction #tog #tog fanfic #tog fanfiction #throne of glass #throne of glass fic #throne of glass fanfiction #angst #angst and eventual fluff #writing #fanfiction #my writing #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #lorcan salvaterre #aedion ashryver #orlon galathynius #dorian havilliard #connall moonbeam #fenrys moonbeam #fake marriage au #fake dating #vaughan #the cadre

[perspectivestarters]

Perspective's Sentence Starters; The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess by Chappell Roan (Part II)

MY KINK IS KARMA

We broke up on a Tuesday.

Who knew that we'd let it get this bad when it ended.

Karma's real.

Hope it's your turn.

I heard from *Name*, you're losing it lately.

It's hot when you have a meltdown.

It's hot when you're drinking downtown.

You're getting called out 'cause you're running your mouth.

It's coming around.

People say I'm jealous but my kink is watching you ruining your life.

People say I'm jealous but my kink is karma.

Wishing you the best, in the worst way.

Using your distress as foreplay.

Six months since April and I'm doing better.

No need to be hateful in your fake Gucci sweater.

It's hot when you're going through hell.

I'm feeling myself.

It's hot when you know that you're caught and you're getting pissed off.

It's getting me off.

PICTURE YOU

Draw the blinds.

Slip off my pretty dress down my chest.

It's ritualistic.

Counting lipstick stains where you should be.

I need you around.

I'm getting close now.

Do you picture me like I picture you?

Am I in the frame from your point of view?

Do you feel the same?

I'm too scared to say half of the things I do when I picture you.

So, tell me now all your perversions.

KALEIDOSCOPE

Here we go again.

Everything is fine.

I guess we could pretend we didn't cross a line.

Ever since that day, everything has changed.

The way I write your name

If you really wanna leave, I'll never make you stay.

Whatever you decide, I will understand.

It will all be fine.

Love is a kaleidoscope.

How it works, I'll never know.

It's somehow all the same

It's beautiful somehow.

It's never just a shape alone.

Well, I'd love to see them try.

There's no one else who could.

The only one is you.

If you change your mind, I will understand.

It'll just take time to go back to being friends.

Don't be afraid to hold it close.

PINK PONY CLUB

I know you wanted me to stay.

I can't ignore the crazy visions of me in *Place*.

I heard that there's a special place where boys and girls can all be queens every single day.

I'm having wicked dreams of leaving.

I swear it's calling me.

Won't make my mama proud.

It's gonna cause a scene.

I know she's gonna scream.

God, what have you done?

I'm just having fun.

It's where I belong.

I'm gonna keep on dancing.

Every night's another reason why I left it all.

I thank my wicked dreams.

You've been too good to me.

Don't think I've left you all behind.

You're always on my mind.

I can hear your southern drawl a thousand miles away.

NAKED IN MANHATTAN

I know you just landed.

I know you're probably busy but I would love to see you.

Call me when you can.

I'll never cross the line.

I pushed you down a million times.

I'd love if you knew you were on my mind.

Boys suck and girls I've never tried.

We both know we're getting drunk tonight.

Touch me, baby.

Put your lips on mine

Could go to hell but we'll probably be fine.

I know you want it.

You can have it.

I've never done it.

Let's make it cinematic

I wanna know, baby, what is it like?

An inch away from more than just friends.

If I don't try, then it's my loss.

Won't you fucking touch me?

I just want to touch you.

I want all of your love.

CALIFORNIA

I stretched myself across four states.

I trade amber clay roads for the sea foam and the endless sun rays.

I was never told that I wasn't gonna get the things I want the most.

If it hasn't happened yet, then maybe you should go.

Come get me out.

Thought I'd be cool in here.

I'd make you proud

To think I almost had it going, but I let you down.

Too hard to find reasons to stay.

GUILTY PLEASURES

Learned it on the internet.

Wild thoughts that make me melt.

Sometimes I scare myself.

I can't help what I can't help.

So shame on me, and shame on you.

I fantasize what we would do.

How would it taste?

Some good girls do bad things too.

I want this like a cigarette.

Can we drag it out and never quit?

Oh my god, you are heaven sent.

You give me guilty plеasure.

You're a pothead.

You're a cinephile.

It's been awhile since you turned up the dial.

#rp sentence starters #rp sentence meme #rp sentence prompts #sentence starters #sentence meme #sentence prompts #lyric sentence starters #lyric starters #music starters #rp meme #rp memes #rp prompts #ask meme #exodusmusing #*mystarters #*trafoamp

[two-white-butterflies]

WAITING FOR A BUS

I'm a traveling man straight from a can, I'm a thousand miles away from my number one fan.

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Reader, Daemon Targaryen x Reader (MODERN)

Description: A new promotion at work prompts you to move into a small modest town with your boyfriend, Aemond Targaryen. There you meet a few friendly faces. It seems like life is going where it's supposed to. That is until you meet your new boss, Daemon Targaryen, who is your boyfriend's estranged uncle.

It doesn't help with the fact that you've been having dreams about him since birth.

TW : SMUT, MENTIONS OF NON-CON

masterlist | chapter four

The beautiful girl clad in black was fighting against his arms, a dagger was pressed on your neck — it glimmered in the moonlight. Daemon entered the castle, chasing after the both of you. He left his sword in the middle of the empty field, both Vhagar and Caraxes were long buried in the lake. "Let her go, this fight is between us." he beseeched, his muddied boots created marks on the stone floor.

"I don't think so, this girl of yours is rather beautiful." he taunted while tracing his dagger on the bottom of your chin. They were a few feet away from each other, Daemon didn't dare walking any closer. He could feel his heart hammering through his chest — a thousand thoughts raised through his mind. If you came out of this battle dead, then Daemon was sure to follow after.

You wriggled underneath the lord's grasp, thus his hold tightens. Daemon's eyes hardened seeing you attempt to escape. Aemond's hands reach your neck, chocking you in place. "What the fuck do you want?" your lover questioned, his nephew laughs.

No negotiation will happen. This battle's only outcome was death. "I want to end you, uncle." Aemond replied with a smirk. That was the only way. Daemon was the pillar of Rhaenyra's rebellion — without that man, Aegon was sure to win.

"Then kill me and let her go." Daemon quipped immediately, offering himself with open arms. You shake your head. His life was far more valuable than yours. "Leave," you manage to choke out, he takes a step forward. There was no him, without you.

It all happened so fast. You could see the outline of your sister's shadow behind him. Alys raised her hand and struck him down with a single blow. The dark sister pierced through his stomach, and he could only let out a small groan.

Aemond let you go — he allowed you to run in Daemon's direction with tears running down your eyes. You anticipated the same sword cutting through you, but it never came — you were dragged inside a cell, to spend the rest of your days.

———

It was the first time he ran away from home. His father was still alive at this point, and his mother was abused constantly in their own home. He was holding train-tickets in his right hand, his hood was raised high — a constant reminder that he didn't belong in this world. His eye was torn out by his nephew, Lucerys, nothing really changed.

He was no longer in Dragonview. He was in a brand-new city. He was finally away from his wife-beating daddy, and power-hungry grandfather. He took a deep breath, leaning down on his chair. A woman wearing a red dress catches his periphery. 'Oh fuck,' he thought with a smirk. It was you. He could feel your existence bumping into his. You meet his eye. He moves a centimeter away from your direction, but you halt in front of him. "This is my seat," you inform while staring at the ticket on your hand. You were still wearing your university ID. No one really does that here.

He looks at his ticket again, and to his surprise — he was sitting in the wrong seat. "I'm sorry," memories flood through his brain again. He moves a seat back, opening a space for you to sit in. "Thank you." you smiled while sitting beside him.

The gods were good indeed. He takes another glance at you. Anticipating a slap across the face, or a backhanded insult — but it never came. It suddenly comes to him. You don't remember. He takes another bite of his licorice. If he plays the cards right, he might come out as another man. His little mouse has finally returned.

You stare at him in return — almost remembering something from his single eye. He was prepared for a fight, he was fiddling with the brass knuckles on his pocket — even if you did slap him, it wouldn't have any effect. He was highly trained in martial arts, and he knew your body and how it worked.

He knows how to deflect your attacks. He knows how to bind your arms together while wrecking you. He loved doing that in his past life. He was sure that he'd enjoy it in this one too. "You want one?" he offers his candy, and you politely decline him.

"I don't accept candy from strangers," you chuckled while popping a single headphone in your ear. He laughs for a second, Canada wasn't a dangerous country — you were probably foreign. "My name is Aemond. There, I'm no longer a stranger." he offers the candy again, and you take a piece cautiously.

"What's your name?" he asks, kindness dripping from his tone. "(Your Name)" you replied while finishing the candy. He was an attractive man, with purple eyes that looked like one from your dreams. Aemond was charismatic and talkative. He wore a smile on his face. The kind stranger slowly turned into something more. A single question ('Where are you going after this?') turned into 'I can stay with you for a while'.

He found himself walking to your car, and driving to your apartment.

You could feel his tongue on your womanhood — licking and darting his tongue back and forth. He could hear your moans bouncing off the room. Damn. He never knew that having sex with you could feel this good. The last time he did this ... well, you weren't a willing participant. "Aemond," you moaned staring at him from in-between your legs. He was in heaven.

———

Daemon laid in his sofa, covered by a thousand pillows. His phone vibrates, he reaches for it in beside him. His eyes narrowed, adjusting to the light. 'Instagram: (Your Name)_23 has requested to follow you.' he read out loud, and his fingers pressed the notification quickly.

He presses the 'confirm' button. "Fuck." he cursed automatically opening his profile and fixing his instagram feed. There were thousand of photos spanning from 2016 to this current year. Some of the pictures were shit-posts, and others were thirst traps. He wanted to blame himself for posting inappropriate pictures but he only had ten followers (and also a lot of follow requests.)

His phone notifies him again.

(Your Name)_23 9:24PM hope that you don't mind me following you 😅 ThomasDee_Targ69 9:24PM Not at all hehe

(Your Name)_23 9:24PM i just wanted to ask you about the classics you've read

(Your Name)_23 9:25PM i couldn't find ur fb acc 😆

ThomasDee_Targ69 9:25PM I don't have one. Rhaenyra's kids set this account up. I've read all the classics, but it depends on what time period you want me to talk about.

He stares at the chat screen for a second, anticipating your reply. He groans after realizing that it would take a while. He presses your account, browsing through your posts. There were only 13, and only one of them didn't have your boyfriend in the picture.

'The king of my heart, body and soul.' he read the picture's caption while staring at his nephew unblinkingly. If he knew that Alicent was capable of creating such a gremlin, he would've killed Aemond as a baby. He presses the photo — revealing Aemond's instagram account. His username was crass. "(Your Initials).aemond"

Daemon was resisting the urge to smash the screen.

(Your Name)_23 9:30PM i like period classics

ThomasDee_Targ69 9:30PM Like 'Persuasion' and 'Little Women'?

(Your Name)_23 9:31PM yeah!

(Your Name)_23 9:31PM really sorry tomm, but igtg now.

He froze for a second, trying to decipher the words that you were using. In his past life, there wasn't a wall between him and you when it came to relating to each other even though he was decades older. But in this universe, there were so much trends that he wasn't aware of. "It means, i got to go." Viserys piped from behind him while licking his ice-cream.

Daemon glanced over his shoulder in surprise. "What are you doing here?" he questioned sharply, watching as the little boy began to devour his favorite ice-cream. "The back-door was open." he shrugged while leaning on Daemon's white sofa. "Can you go away?" he gave the boy a side-eye. "Uncle Harwin says that dinner is ready, and you can eat in our house if you want to." Viserys announced while loudly walking out of the front door.

He cursed already regretting living beside his niece's family.

But then, his mind goes back to you.

He will come back.

He dusts his sweatpants. Arranging his pillows in an orderly manner. But before that, he has to eat.

chapter five>>

tags: @namelesslosers @immyowndefender @ammo2022 @perihelioneclipse @gracielikegrapes

#aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #modern!aemond #modern!hotd #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x female reader #modern!aemond x reader #modern!aemond targaryen #aemond/reader #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen/reader #aemond fic #daemon #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #modern daemon #sugar daddy!daemon #sugar daddy daemon #daemon x reader #daemon x you #daemon targaryen x you #modern hotd

[toomuchracket]

given recent events I’ve been thinking about a little city day out with matty just walking around holding hands, bumping into friends, him buying me whatever I want…

i miss birthday party matty so i'm making this about him lol. somehow, miraculously, work has taken you both to nyc at the same time; matty for recording and some press, you also for press and meetings and publishing negotiations. you stay in the same hotel because why wouldn't you, when you're in the same city for the same period of time, and it's actually quite domestic because even though you're thousands of miles from home you're still waking up together and showering and getting ready together and having breakfast and kissing each other goodbye when you leave for work. anyway, your final day in nyc is a free day for matty and a mostly free day for you - you have an early little press event/talk to do with an award you've been nominated for, which matty goes along with you to (the interviewer says something like "a lot of your new nonfiction seems to have more of a focus on love and romance than your previous writing" and you look at matty and smile like "yeahhhhhh that's someone else's influence" and his heart genuinely flutters lol), and then you just spend the day having a wander. in my mind, it's quite a crisp autumn morning (i'm rewatching gilmore girls again can u tell), and matty's doing cute shit like holding your cheeks in his hands and kissing your nose to warm them both up, and wrapping you into his coat while you queue for coffee; he holds his coffee in one hand and your hand in the other as you walk down the street, and does his usual thing of kissing you while you wait for the crosswalks (look at me using americanisms!!) to tell you to move. and you just spend the day slowly, dipping in and out of various bookshops and record shops and clothes shops, where matty (still on a high from your little interview moment earlier and even more putty in your hands than usual) says quite seriously "i will literally buy you whatever you want as long as you can fit it in your suitcase for going home"; you're like "baby it's ok lol i didn't really intend on buying anything", and matty hugs you tightly and kisses all over your face like "let me treat you! let me love you!", and you giggle like "you do already! but if you insist" and pick out some little bits to take home with you. he also carries your bags because he's cute like that, and does the cheesy little hand-in-back-pocket move while you walk so he can squeeze your bum - you roll your eyes at him when he does, he gives you a shit-eating grin in return, and then you both giggle and matty pushes you into him so he can kiss you again. later, maybe you run into jack and margaret and end up going for dinner with them, and seeing them in their newlywed bliss phase makes matty so delulu about marrying you (he is counting the days until the wedding. they are in the hundreds. but still), then you just head back to the hotel and share a bottle of wine and a bubble bath and... well, you know the rest. but it's lovely, the whole day <3

#mads answers asks #matty asks #fluff asks #into the birthday partyverse

[sirthisisa-wendys]

THOSE OPTIONS WERE SO AMAZINGAHAHAHAGFAGADA BUT ILL PICK A MIXTURE OF "Big Daddy who will fight to keep him family alive and safe" AND A TOUCH OF ANGST ON TOP

Done and done!

Monsters: Keizo Arashi x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.2k

tw: angst, violence, bro IDK what timeline this is except Bonten and IDK what I just wrote but I'll figure it out lol

masterlist

"I saw, I saw monsters!"

Keizo is huffing as the music blares in his ears. The stroller in front of him is perfectly at rest, as is the child inside of it. He glances down at his son and sees the one-year-old sleeping, nestled in the warmth of the blankets with his little hat on.

Keizo keeps running, his feet slapping against the pavement as he pushes and huffs and lets the sounds in his ears drown out the soundlessness of the neighborhood. It's a good neighborhood, one that is perfectly safe and inviting for him to start a family.

There's something about the slow life, the lack of running around for survival and for a chance to be seen, that makes Keizo feel uneasy, but it's getting better.

The music in his ears pauses, and for a second, Keizo wonders if he accidentally jostled the phone, but then your name echoes in his headphones.

"Hey," he answers breathlessly, and your voice wobbles a little before you murmur,

"Hey, are you..." You pause. Keizo stops, frowning. "Are you in the garage?"

"No," he replies and looks back in the direction of the house. "Is there--"

"I think there's someone in the garage." Keizo easily turns the stroller around and begins to pound the pavement back to the house.

"I'm on my way back. Stay on the phone, and don't go into the garage." The adrenaline in Keizo's body ramps higher, and multiple scenarios run through his mind as he makes his way back to the house.

"Please be careful," you whisper. The jog is shorter than he thought it would be, and Keizo finds himself at the front door of the house, opening it slowly after punching in the code. He rolls the stroller inside, and you're there, standing at the top of the steps with the phone against your ear.

"Keizo," you murmur, and there's something in your voice that's a warning. "Keizo, don't panic."

It feels as if you're a thousand miles away at the top of the stairs. Keizo reaches for his son and pulls him close, careful not to wake the toddler as another person's face shows up at the top of the stairs. Keizo's hand instinctively holds onto his child a little tighter, and his breath hitches.

"Why are you here?" he breathes, and his old friend gives him a sad smile.

"You have something you're not supposed to have." Keizo's heart clenches, and when he looks at your face, you seem to look more guilty than scared. "Where is it?"

"What are you talking about?" The child in his arms stirs, and Keizo lowers his voice. "Takeomi, what are you talking about?"

"The hard drive." A tear slips from your eye, and you whimper. Keizo wants to run to you and hold you against him, but he's frozen to the spot. The hard drive.

It had been a gift from Waka, something he'd tucked away long ago that was his passkey to living a life free from any pain and suffering. Something that would keep Bonten at bay.

"I don't have one," Keizo lies. "We don't even have a computer here."

Takeomi sighs, and it's a sad, awful, and painful one. "I know you're trying to move on. I know you've left us in the syndicate behind. But Keizo, think of your child. Your wife."

"I don't have a hard drive," Keizo restates just as calmly as before. "If I had one, I'd give it to you, friend."

"Then why did we get a signal from this house that it had been accessed?" Keizo blanches. He doesn't even look at you, but when you burst into uncontrollable sobs, he knows.

"Baby," he whispers. "What did you do?"

"I'm sorry," you choke out. "I didn't know." Shit.

"I don't want to fight you, Takeomi," Keizo states, hardening his resolve.

"You won't be fighting me," Takeomi replies. "Not if Manjiro has any say."

"It's triggered," Keizo mumbles, stroking his son's back carefully. "If multiple attempts to access the hard drive are made, it sends out information--"

"We know." Another voice joins the mix, and Keizo turns to watch a familiar face emerge from the shadows of the office. Kakucho Hitto joins the fray, holding a cell phone aloft. "Wakasa told us."

Keizo bristles. "If you have so much information, why did you--" When Kakucho places the cell phone in the line of his vision, it takes Keizo a long moment before he can decipher the image on the screen. And why wouldn't it take long? The person was nearly unrecognizable, save a few tufts of purple and blonde hair. His stomach revolts, and before he can vomit on the floor, Keizo grits his teeth together, swallowing the bile in his throat.

"Now," Kakucho begins, turning the phone away. "You have a child." Every instinct in Keizo tells him to give in, to fight until the bitter end. But he can't. Not when his son is lying on his chest.

As a matter of fact, every single part of the conversation had been terribly quiet, save your sobs. Keizo looks at his son, understanding that he is the only reason he's not dead right now. His son commands the room without even being awake.

"Give us the passkey and--"

"I really don't know it." Takeomi hisses, and Kakucho pulls out his gun, aiming it a little to the left. A little too close to his son.

"You'll figure it out, I'm sure. Or else---"

"Takeomi," Keizo pleads, looking up at his friend. "Take the fucking drive; I don't care. But I can't help you open it. The one person who knew the passkey is long gone."

"Who is it?" Keizo angles his head at the phone in Kakucho's hand.

"He told us that Takemitchi had the code," Kakucho replies. "We don't know where he is." Kakucho swings the gun toward you, and Keizo's entire body wants to lunge to block him. But his child is in his hands. "Where's the hard drive?"

"In- In the office. Top left drawer of the desk." Kakucho disappears, then reemerged with the piece of equipment.

"You say Takemichi knows?"

"He's the only one Waka trusted." The two men leave you and Keizo almost as silently as they came, shutting the garage door with a click and retreating with the hard drive in hand.

"It's only mere hours before they find out that's not the one," Keizo hisses, placing his son back in the stroller and stroking his cheek absentmindedly. You wipe your fake tears and nod. "Get the bags. We leave now."

"What about Wakasa?"

"He died protecting us," Keizo mutters, going up the stairs and rubbing his eyes fiercely. "Protecting you. We have to get to Naoto and Takemichi before them."

"What about the house?"

"What about the house?" Keizo replies, frowning.

"You're right."

"Takemichi will know what to do next."

"Are you sure?" you ask, placing your hands on his shoulders.

"I'm more than sure," Keizo whispers, touching your cheek. "He's never been wrong before. He won't be wrong now."

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #keizo arashi #keizo arashi x reader

[moreworldliness]

so i came across a sonic mod/exe/thing called "sink" and it got me thinking

when people try to make sonic "scary", they never really do it for me because they try to ground it too much in reality:

"oh, sonic's in the real world and is trying to kill me!"

"oh, my game is corrupted"

imo, they're not coming at it from a game angle - they're too focused on outside looking in, rather than inside looking out.

for example, a popular fandom question - why is sonic afraid of water?

if you were on the outside looking it, you could probably shrug and say "well, they needed some kind of weakness gameplay-wise and the creators didn't think hedgehogs could swim. that's that."

inside looking out, however? consider!

MAJOR WARNING FOR DROWNING BELOW THE BREAK

you're sonic the hedgehog.

at the time of the classic games, which to you are your entire life, you're 12 with miles prower (your newly acquired and handy buddy) sitting at a clean 4 years old. sometimes it crosses your mind that he might be too young for this, but time and time again, he's put your worries to rest.

you're proud of him. he's smart and you're quick - you're the perfect duo.

you must've run hours before you enter into chemical plant zone and make your way through the lower path. its been a fairly standard journey up until this point and you're not about to be intimidated by some overgrown factory. (do factories even grow? you decide to ask miles later)

at this point, you're more than aware of how your life works. it's okay if you get hurt, because you have rings. it's okay if you "pass out", because you always wake up at the start of the area you were just in, with everything just as it was.

not to brag, but you happened to think you were pretty indestructible.

falling and rolling down unimaginable stretches of pipes, you and miles finally reach a new area: a hydraulic door opens in front of you, revealing a long chute upwards. cut and dry - you turn towards miles to grab his hand.

the door shuts behind you and, as quick as you can hold your breath, you're plunged under purple water.

miles - you've grown to calling him tails, because it's easier to say; you're still twelve, after all - begins paddling upwards with ease, but you find yourself horrifyingly heavy in the water. it grabs you, pulls you downwards, thousands of arms pinning your every movement.

you jump, and hit the first platform.

you kind of regret not learning how to swim.

tails has paddled so far upwards that you can't see him anymore - not through the sludge of this water, anyway. it seems to be getting heavier too, dragging your movements as you scramble to reach the second platform.

your hands miss.

your feet fail.

you fall back down.

you become consciously aware of how tight your chest is.

you keep trying, to the same result; jump, fall. jump, fall. you aren't sure how much longer you can hold your breath, either, and the hydraulic doors are shut fast - you can't even budge them.

you've tried.

you can just about imagine tails in your mind's eye as you try the platform again, scrambling around in a panic. he's four, in a mechanised factory with no way out, suddenly all on his own. the thought alone propels you forward, and you land a grip on the platform above you.

a foothold. something - there's gotta be some way out of this.

you glance up.

the clearance of the ceiling above you is still high, but for a brief second, you can see the lights of the level above you. you can see the wavering figure of tails, looking in from above, his two tails flickering around.

he looks nervous.

you can't help but laugh in relief - he's okay.

your mistake hits you all at once.

there is no air. the crushing weight of the water bears downwards, and you drop like a stone. there are no chaos emeralds, there is no life-saving device here. just water, yourself, and your own stupid reflection.

the "passing out" feeling begins sweeping over you, and just before you shut your eyes, you recount every last feeling you've ever felt - that time you dropped from spring yard zone and hit the ground a bit too hard, or the time the walls of marble zone came in faster than anticipated.

the time robotnik (eggman, you teased, once upon a time) hit you a bit too hard.

you're dying.

you're dying over and over again, and this time the only exception is that you're made to feel it.

you want to cry.

you can't.

the water cries for you.

you blink, and you're right back at the beginning of chemical plant zone. the sky is clear, the sun is warm; the wind blows through you.

tails looks up at you, waving his hand in front of your eyes to get your attention. he looks just as expectantly nervous as he did before you entered.

he asks if you're ready.

you can't make yourself move. all you can do is drop to your knees and cry.

you heave a breath of air, but all you can taste is water.

#cw drowning #character death #kinda sorta #am i thinking too hard about a blue hedgehog? #yes is the answer to that #this isn't a knock on anything specific! #i just think that “sink” has a really good concept #and it's what i want outta sonic “horror”! #sonic the hedgehog #sonic angst #sonic.exe #if you saw the first post no you didn't #horror #sonic au

[andr0medafallen]

Cold, Dead Heart

A/N: Another repost! I was like super depressed and busy for a while, but I will be working on continuing to publish all of my old fics that I intend to publish now, before writing more. I plan on being more active in my writing in the spring when I will be taking less credits. xoxo

Pairing: Adrian Chase x Reader

Warnings: some angst, sexual harassment (someone unconsensually grabs readers ass), canon-typical violence (reader breaks said man's fingers), some hurt/comfort, girlboss reader lmao

Description: Adrian Chase convinces you to go to his high school reunion. You end up not regretting it, although you've got plenty of reasons to.

Word Count: 4.3k

“Adrian, no,” you rejected, mind reeling at the fact that Adrian Chase had thought you would be an acceptable date anywhere, let alone at his High School reunion, despite you having gone to high school thousands of miles away from this hick town. And despite what everyone on the team thought about you being a cold-hearted bitch who hated everything resembling laughter and fun, you did consider Adrian a friend, which is why you intended to spare him of embarrassing himself in front of all of the ex-jocks and backstabbing cheerleaders who he stupidly looked up to. Even if you wanted to be eye candy, which you didn’t, that definitely wasn’t something that you had been trained for in the field, and no amount of looks could make up for your apparent lack of skill and effort in the field of flattery. You’re an FBI agent, not Miss America.

“Whaaaat?” Adrian complained, as though he thought he might be able to change your mind by annoying you enough. “Come on, you only have to be there for like, an hour. Just long enough for people to think I’m cool and that you want to be there. And then I’ll buy you ice cream or clean your guns for a year or–”

“Beyond the fact that it would be severely unprofessional—” You started, before being cut off by his over-eager mouth.

“It wouldn’t be unprofessional! How would it be unprofessional?”

“We work together, Adrian. I outrank you.” You sat on your desk, cleaning your glock with a grey rag turned black by grime and oil. Your current state should have only proved your point further. Not even in the running for Miss Congeniality.

“Uh, no, you don’t, cause I don’t even technically work for the government.”

You scoffed. “Well, you sure work with the government a lot for someone who doesn’t work for the government.”

“I don’t think that you are legally allowed to use the unprofessional excuse unless I actually worked with you though, which I don’t.”

“Oh, I broke the law?” You chuckled. “What are you gonna do, kill me?” A part of you knew that Adrian might not understand that you were joking. But the cold-hearted bitch part figured that making him think that you assumed he would want to murder you for not going to his high school reunion made up for the fact that he was making you sit through this conversation. Maybe it would even get him to leave, although you doubted you had that much luck.

“What? No, I would never kill you. I mean, if you broke a really bad law, like loitering, then maybe. But I don’t think that not using unprofessionalism as an excuse when people don’t work together is actually a law, but maybe it should be.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “Right. Well, let me know when they do make it a law. Until then, I will be here. Happily doing things that do not take place in a high school.”

“Come on, pleeeeaaaase,” He begged. “I’ll do anything.”

God. What a stupid, stupid boy. The amount of trust he had in you was anything but inspiring. It was misplaced and idiotic, and he definitely shouldn’t be offering you ‘anything’. Still, his desperation, while misplaced, made butterflies spark up in your gut. “Anything?” You asked, arching a brow.

Adrian’s expression turned, eyes narrowing as he noted your mischievous tone. It was calculated, your manner of speaking, meant to prevent those butterflies from revealing anything, but he didn't know that. “You’re not gonna make me do anything illegal, are you? Cause last time I–”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Adrian. You aren’t fun enough to do anything illegal with.” You lowered your feet off of your shitty metal desk chair, where you’d propped them up while talking to Adrian, and loudly planting them on the floor as you stood up from your seat on your desk, leaning towards Adrian. “Since you are clearly desperate here, I’ll go. Just buy my coffee or something for the next month, I don’t fucking care.”

“Fuck yeah! Wait, is there a catch? Cause sometimes people ask me to things and then they’re like ‘well, actually’--”

“The catch is that you get out of my fucking office and let me finish this mission report.” You grabbed your stapler and threw it at him. Adrian caught it with a giddy smile and skipped out of the room. You hoped he would actually return that stapler at some point, since you had a few stacks of loose paperwork waiting on your desk and no replacement, but you suspected you’d never see it again.

With a sigh, you returned to your gun, working in the oil so ferociously that your hands started to ache. Fuck, you shouldn’t have said yes. A list of possibilities for what could happen on your–would it be considered a date?–were rattling through your mind like an old busted up film reel, and all you could do was hope that you wouldn’t fuck anything up.

~~~

You hadn’t talked to Adrian since you’d agreed to go with him. He’d texted you the details for your arrangement, but other than that, radio silence. On your end, at least. Adrian might not have been chattering your ear off as much as usual, but it was you who conveniently wrapped yourself in paperwork every time he entered your line of sight. A week of not talking, hardly communicating, and now… A night of hopefully not telling any secrets. A night where Adrian Chase will not learn how badly you don’t want to go on this date with him only because you had hoped that your first date with Adrian Chase, the known maniac who you had the biggest, stupidest crush on, would be because he actually liked you and not because he wanted to impress a handful of idiots with something that wasn’t real.

Still, that didn’t stop you from pestering your friend to borrow the perfect outfit because nothing in your closet was quite right, spending an additional hour to get ready after your outfit was chosen, and tolerating the most uncomfortable pair of shoes in your closet because maybe Adrian wanted to impress his all of his ex locker room neighbors and high school buddies, but you sort of wanted to impress Adrian; Even if a part of you was convinced that you were fighting an uphill battle.

Even with all the time you had spent on your appearance, you were ready with time to spare. All there was left to do was sit on the thrift store couch in your living room, trying to distract yourself with the books that were usually scattered on your coffee table; an eclectic arrangement of FBI protocol manuals and the various genres of fiction which you read for pleasure. You were about to give up on trying to make your mind process the information from a heavy sci-fi book that Economos had given you when a much-anticipated knock sounded at the door.

A mixture of relief and anxiety flooded through you as you set the book down (a resonant Whack! sounding from the sheer heft of it) and rushed to open your front door.

For a moment, the two of you just looked at each other. Adrian’s cheeks were rosy and he seemed out of breath, which was a bit non-intuitive, given that you could see his Sebring parked in the lot just a floor below your balcony entrance. Ignoring that though, you had to admit that he looked good. Well, you always thought he looked good, but he looked really, really good tonight. He was dressed to the semi-casual dress code in a black cable turtle-neck which he’d partially tucked into his brown corduroys. Even though it wasn’t very far off from what you’d seen of him in civilian clothes, a part of it surprised you. You’d never actually seen him in anything other than his Vigilante gear and the nerdy shit he wears on CVS runs.

After what felt like eons of simply looking at each other, it was you who broke the silence with a quiet, “Hey.”

It seemed to sufficiently snap him out of his thoughts. “Hi! Hey. You look really good. Like stupid fucking good.”

“Oh. Thanks. Gotta impress your buddies, right?” You chuckled nervously. Were you imagining the way Adrian’s face fell when you said that? Probably just projecting, right? “You look really good too. I’ve never seen you…”

“Oh, yeah. I figured I couldn’t wear the Vigilante uniform, so.” You giggled at this, and his smile did a much better job at lighting the entryway to your apartment than your porch light ever had.

“I like your Vigilante costume,” you chided, exiting your doorway and locking your door behind the two of you before hesitantly tucking your arm around Adrian’s.

When you approached his car, Adrian opened the passenger door for you before hurrying around the front of the car to sit behind the wheel on the driver's side. You were grateful when he started the car and the heater rumbled on, warm air blasting towards you; It was a cool autumn night and the dress which you had chosen for yourself wasn’t doing a lot as far as warmth was concerned.

The ride to the high school of Adrian’s teenage years was short, and filled with the heavy base of the 11th Street Kids, volume all the way up. As nervous as you were for the coming event, it didn’t take much for Adrian to get you laughing and singing along.

“There’s no wrong time to rock, baby!” Adrian yelled over the tinny speakers of the sebring, hitting the steering wheel with the palm of his hand along with the beat. You burst out into laughter, trying to ignore the way your stomach fluttered with butterflies at being called ‘baby’.

Either way, you still made him turn it down when you approached the school. It hardly seemed like a fancy reunion, terribly appropriate for a town like Evergreen, but if Adrian was intent on impressing people, you figured he might as well not ruin it before it began by blasting music at levels that would give premature hearing problems even to the people outside of the car.

Once he had parked, he jogged around the car to open your door for you, speed likely prompted by his suspicion that you wouldn't let him. It was something that Chris always used to  try during stakeouts. He happened to stop that a while ago, definitely not because you would always wait until his hand reached the handle to pop it open and slam it into his gut. The memory (or lack thereof, because it is definitely something you had never done) still made you smile. But you weren’t planning on doing that to Adrian. Not when you were on a date and –you had a massive crush on him– he promised to pay you in full with beautifully overpriced oat milk lattes.

So yes, you let him open your door, and take your hand, and do all of the things that you never let anyone else do. You were conscious of your reputation—you couldn’t help it, not with the type of people you worked with—but right now… Tonight, you know that everything is fake. Artificially constructed to present a picture that isn’t there, that isn’t true. But tonight, you are going to pretend that it is true, because you can, and because after everything that you’ve been through with Adrian–with the butterflies (the literal ones, not the metaphorical ones), the bullet wounds, waking up everyday afraid because you’re constantly putting your life on the line—you felt that you deserved this. Or at least, you deserved to be able to pretend.

The two of you were hand in hand entering the gymnasium. Palms connected, your free hand cradling his arm. The lights are dim, a cliche high school disco ball hanging in the middle of the room. It smelled the way every school gymnasium smells; That sort of waxy, wrestler sweat smell that can never be explained too well, but always seems to permeate the area. 

The woman at the booth checked you in, placing a stamp on the back of both of your hands. She gave you a toothy grin, full of kindness as she asked, “Different graduating year?”

You chuckled, returning her warmth. “Not a local.” You’re certain that she’ll be spreading that bit of small town gossip around, but you can’t seem to manage any hard feelings.

It wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. The lights weren’t too bright, the music not too loud, and you’re holding Adrian Chase’s hand.

Adrian led you to what seemed like his group of high school friends. The sort of D&D type that you’d have expected him to hang out with. Maybe a little awkward, but not trying nearly as hard as the ‘popular kids’; a trait you can appreciate. God, are you reinforcing high school stereotypes in a building full of adults? Yet another reason that you didn’t go to your own high school reunion.

Adrian started to make his introductions, naming everyone one by one, because of course that is something he would remember. Adrian knew your middle name before you’d even been formally introduced.

“Sonia, Oliver, Jack, Gini, this is…”

Before anyone else could notice Adrian’s hesitation, you jumped in with a smile, “I’m Adrian’s girlfriend. It’s nice to meet you all.” Maybe you weren’t Miss Congeniality, but you were professionally trained in lying.

That elicited quite the reaction from the group. The excited giggles and ecstatic welcomes make you think this might not have been an awful idea after all. You don’t even really mind the whistles or congratulations toward a blushing Adrian. The group trailed back into their previous conversation after a bit, and you nudged Adrian with your elbow..

“I’m gonna go grab some punch, want some?” You whispered when he looked over at you with his smiling eyes.

His brows furrowed. “Are you sure? I can go with you—”

“I’ll be fine, Adrian,” you insisted. You needed a bit of a break from people, and fetching spiked punch seemed to be  the popular way to do that in all the movies, but you really did want Adrian to be able to catch up with his friends. They seemed kind, and genuine. “Have fun. I’ll be back in a minute, pinky promise.”

You reached your pinky out towards him and he wrapped his own around yours. Before he got the chance to separate, you pressed your thumb against his, making a little goofy kiss sound. Before you could see his responding blush, you turned away toward the punch table, making your exit.

When you arrived at the infamous high school punch bowl, you didn’t even have time to grab cups before you felt a hand touch your shoulder. Your heart rate sped up and you spun, slugging the perpetrator in the arm when you realized it was just Chris.

“Jesus, fucking sneaky, asshole, what are you doing here?” You asked, covering your momentary panic with irritation.

“You’re the one who went to High School in Gotham, what’re you doing here?” Chris responded, a juvenile mimic of your own question.

“If I wanted you to badger my own shit back at me I’d play uno.”

Chris split into a grin; a shit-eating, ear to ear grin. “You’re on a date!”

“Who cares? And why the hell do you find that so hard to believe?” You asked defensively

Chris snorted. “It’s not. Just funny that you ditched your date to hang out at the punch table.”

You scowled. “I didn’t ditch my date, I’m just getting punch. For me and my date. And I swear to God, Smith, if you spiked it, I will put that on your permanent record,” you warned, grabbing one of the plastic cups sitting at the table. The threat was an empty one. Honestly you kind of hoped he had spiked it.

“I didn’t spike it!” you still look thoroughly unamused in front of him, arms crossed. “Jesus, no room in your cold dead heart to believe me?” Chris kissed three fingers on his right hand and raised them up in front of himself. “Scouts honor.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s the fucking Hunger Games thing, Chris.” You ladled some of the red liquid into your cup and took a sip, disappointedly disappointed when you didn’t taste the warmth of alcohol. Just your average watered down punch.

You were about to say something more, about how you wouldn’t be surprised if Chris really was in boy scouts and never learned that, or some dry humor about how you liked to think that Chris was intentionally obtuse but was more likely just stupid, when you felt a stranger's hand grabbing your ass, followed by a loud, obnoxious voice shouting “EY YO, NICE MEAT CHRIS!!!!”

To his credit, Chris squared up, ready to have your back against this asshole. You were quicker to the punch, though, grabbing the hand of your perpetrator and twisting so hard that he was nearly toppled by his own weight. You zeroed in on him. Tall, bulky, wearing a letterman's jacket. Some high school has-been who thought that the tacky Las Vegas flask he brought made him cool. Apparently he felt the same way about harassing women, like it was some way to level him up from basic boring misogynist to super misogynist.

“Wow, that was really funny, wasn’t it?” You ask him, saccharinely sarcastic while twisting his arm harder.

“No!” He yelped, trying to alleviate your grip on him. “No, it wasn’t,”  You wished you had it in you to feel sorry for what a fucked up loser this guy was, but you didn’t. Anyways, an apology given out of fear doesn’t mean anything, but that didn’t mean you didn’t want to fuck him up a little just to see how he felt about it.

“Oh…You’re probably right. It was in bad taste, wasn’t it?” You asked sweetly. “It would probably be best to leave after doing something like that, huh? After all, we wouldn’t want anyone prosecuted on the count of sexually assaulting a Federal Agent, that would be way too crazy for a town like Greendale!”

You dropped the sweet facade, whispering in his ear, “If you think about trying that shit with anyone ever again, please remember that I have a gun and access to most government databases,” before dropping him to the floor. 

It was then that the panic flooded through you. Everything you had just done had been done in reaction to what was happening, but you could see past the adrenaline now and all you could think about was the consequences, which you really didn’t want to face. You didn’t want to see Adrian’s expression as he realized that you’d done the exact opposite of what he wanted, and you didn’t want all of the missed opportunities to make Adrian get coffee with you. And you also didn’t want to always be the outsider, but you seemed to be consistently bad at fulfilling that goal. It was so stupid, but after spending most of your life constantly moving around due to reassignment after reassignment, you had hoped that you could find a home here. Instead you’d just made yourself the town gossip. You’d probably wind up in the morning paper tomorrow. “Crazy Jackass Assaults Local.”

You don’t know how long you stood there, glaring at the man you’d injured and forced to the floor, before you felt a hand on your elbow. Your head jerked towards it to find Adrian. He was absolutely fuming. He had this look in his eyes that always assured you he was about to do something stupid—what, you weren’t yet sure yet, but you didn’t particularly want to find out, so you grabbed him by the arm and hauled ass out of the gym. There was a crowd of concerned model citizens surrounding Mr. Hasbeen, but as you walked out the front doors, you noticed the check in lady give you a discreet thumbs up. You felt a sort of relief, knowing that at least somebody vindicated you.

You didn’t stop walking until you reached the school gardens—a sort of compilation of shrubbery with a creepy statue of some sort of town leader pushing it over the border of boring into just damn strange.

When you stopped, Adrian finally opened his mouth, starting with, “I’m gonna fucking kill him,” sliding right off the tip of his tongue as if he’d been waiting to say it.

You stepped in front of him, blocking the very real possibility of him ditching you to follow through with that claim. “No, you’re not. I–”

“He fucking–” He swallowed, like thinking of made him want to puke or punch something. Like it hurts him as much as it hurts you. “You said it yourself! He broke the law. No amount of–”

“Adrian, I dealt with it, just drop it!” You yelled. This did silence him, his face twisting into the hurt expression you sometimes see when he’s arguing with Chris. When he starts pretending that he doesn’t have any feelings, even though they are written all over his face. You sighed and sat on a faded wooden bench that was placed right in front of the statue, black heels skimming the ground. “I’m sorry. I know you were trying to impress your peers or whatever, and I ruined that.”

Adrian stopped in his tracks from where he was pacing a few yards in front of you. His hands were clenched into fists as his head snapped towards you. “You think I care about that?” His voice was just a little higher than normal, eyebrows a little too drawn.

“I…yes? That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?. That's why you asked me to come, to impress all of your–”

“That’s not why you’re here.” It was quiet. A loaded statement that you didn’t know how to respond to, and didn’t have the time or understanding to unpack. It was spoken so quietly that anyone else might have missed it, but not you.

Your eyes and nose stung, like you were about to get a bloody nose. Or, a drastically worse possibility, about to cry. “I don’t understand.”

“I—” Adrian resumed his pacing. “I just said that! Y’know, when you just say something cause it’s convenient, even if it isn’t really true? But that's–I wanted you to come cause I like you. A lot. Which—I’m sorry, because I know that you don’t really like it when people like you, but I do. And believe me, if I knew that Ricky Feld was gonna do that then I never would’ve–” He stopped in front of you, kneeling, with his gaze looking up and centered on your face. His eyes were so earnest, like they carried an ocean of pain—of anger—which understood your own. “I am never going to let anyone touch you like that ever again. Never.”

The two of you just stared at each other. You didn’t know if it was for moments or for a millennia, and the foggy night sky above you betrayed nothing. 

When Adrian finally opened his mouth to speak, to take everything back, you whispered, “You like me?”

Adrian gulped. “I…yeah. I know it’s unprofessional or whatever cause we kind of work together and I know that you don’t want that, but I can’t help it, and I really didn’t want to go to this thing alone so I convinced you to go with me, and you look so pretty, by the way. Did I mention you look pretty? You do. And I don’t fucking care that you twisted that guys arm off while everyone was watching. I mean it was kind of hot, but you don’t have to apologize. You didn’t ruin anything. I mean, I wish you would let me kill him, but… Yeah, I like you. So, I guess I should be the one who’s sorry cause–”

You cut him off, your lips attaching to his, your hands grabbing his face and pulling him close to you. your bodies were so fully entangled in that high school garden, your legs wrapped around his waist as he remained kneeling before you, on the bench in front of him. It was Adrian who finally pulled away, wiping your cheek with his thumb.

“You’re crying,” he told you, nervousness etched on his face.

You wiped at them with your sleeve, a technique you picked up at a young age to disguise tears from classmates. Didn’t seem to ever work that well, though. “I’m sorry. It’s not you. Well, it is you, kind of. It’s been…a lot, today. But I like you too, Adrian. A lot. And I’m willing to split the coffee bill two ways if you’ll still agree to go to that coffee place on Main with me.” You say it like it’s a joke, but you’re hardly joking. It’s all you could possibly want for him to say yes.

Adrian leaned in towards you. He smelled like almond and saffron, a departure from the usual sweat and gunsmoke smell that he had as Vigilante. He pulled you towards him by the waist, your breath mingling with his at the empty space between your lips.

“8 am, Monday, Edge Coffee. If you’re not there then I’ll show Adebayo the picture of you playing with her dog that you told me not to show anyone. And we’re not splitting the bill.” You could feel the heat from Adrian’s breath spread across your face as he said this, every part of you (cold dead heart included), warmed by his body, words, and actions. You closed what distance was left between the two of you (which wasn’t very much distance at all), lips pressing against his in what you hoped was reassurance, expressing the love you had for him that you couldn’t possibly begin to tell him about.

“I’ll be there.”

#Adrian Chase x reader #Peacemaker fanfic #reader insert #Adrian Chase fluff #Adrian Chase angst #my writing

[8bitscarlet]

You Belong to Me

Summary: As summer fades away with memories you can't seem to keep, there is one thing in your life that will never fade. And as long as you're alive, you'll find a way to tell her.

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: Part Three of Dream a Little Dream! I told myself the first two chapters would be the longest and here we are, another long chapter. Either way, I hope you guys enjoy this one! Happy Reading!

*please do not repost or translate my material or claim as yours. reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated! *

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Sitting in the warm morning sun, you lean back into the park bench you've found to enjoy the day. A perfect moment to skim through the newspaper, your eyes glancing over the town's talent show article, a fun little fundraiser for the children. As your eyes read across lines of freshly printed ink, your mind is a million miles away.

Ever since your promotion from Mr. Hart and the spectacular dinner from Wanda, life has been easier than ever. You glance around at the other couples that walk around you and you smile at the sight. Their rings reflect in the sunlight that warms you against the cooling Fall air. With a chuckle, you shake your head at a thought that teases through your mind, slapping the paper against your hands.

It was far too soon.

Slowing your steps slightly as you make your way towards the exit of the park, you clench your brows lightly. Was it too soon? You eye the date on the front page of the paper before glancing around at the amber leaves amongst the trees. You can't remember.

You could've sworn you met Wanda in the summertime but it felt just like yesterday. This forgetfulness surely won't fare well when it comes to remembering any anniversaries with her.

You chuckle at the thought, anniversaries. Being together long enough to have those, the thought brings a grin to your face. The thoughts you tried to shake away before are starting to fill your head again. To the world, the two of you were already engaged since Wanda let Mr. Hart know at the dinner.

And of course, you've seen the adoration run through her when your eyes locked, overcome with the familiarity in those green eyes. You settle in together like you were meant to, and still, something holds you back from giving her everything you are.

Folding the paper into your back pocket, you walk down the street back to your home with a thousand thoughts. You avoid the happy couples now, the smile from before long gone as they waltz past you. Your feet turn down the road that will take you right past Wanda's home, instead of taking the road straight to your front door.

Glancing over, you see her there, kneeling in front of her flowers. Her gentle hands carefully pruning and encouraging her new flowers to take root. You watch for a moment with small steps, your eyes flicking towards your front door.

For a moment, you wonder if you could get past her. To ponder on these thoughts in your mind but you're practically begging her to turn around. Eyes flicking back to her and the road, just waiting to see anything but the back of her head.

As the thought of seeing her scrunching nose and glowing green eyes, you watch her turn around with a curious look. The moment she shows her face and feel the tightening in your chest, you let out a soft groan. There was nothing that could compare to that look she gives you. The life that radiates from her, the excitement whenever she sees you. It was like your whole world disappeared and all that was left was Wanda.

It was always Wanda.

"Y/N!" she calls out, quickly dropping her tools and walking towards her white picket fence.

Stopping at her mailbox, you give a soft grin as you play with the little flag on the side. Her smile is bright, but when she finally draws near, you watch her eyes bounce across your face with a soft worry.

"You look lonely," she whispers, carefully stepping through her gate and removing any physical obstacles between you two.

Wanda reaches out to you, a slow movement as if she contemplates every single move towards you. Then, her cool hand presses against your cheek and you lean further into her touch. You sigh, feeling her thumb caress your cheek softly and you wish her touch never left.

"I can fix that," she says, "If you let me."

You open your eyes and see how close she's gotten. Nearly able to press herself against you, not a single worry of who's prying eyes are peeking out of their curtains or standing on their porch with an empty mug. But the warmth that flows from Wanda right now, you don't care what rumors are going to be shared at the committee meeting.

Life always fills you lay your eyes on her, studying her already memorized face. Your lips pressing against the soft skin on the heel of her hand as you keep her touch against your warm skin. The green eyes that shine brightly for you and only for you. Soft red lips that kiss yours and sigh against your skin at night, sending shivers down your spine.

"Wanda..." you whisper as you press your lips against hers, unable to keep yourself from her for one more second.

As you hold her close, you begin to fall into her. You breathe in deeply as she leans against you, smelling that light amber scent that you crave.

"Oh, look at you love birds!" Agnes exits her house with a wide smile and an even wider wave, "Save some for the bedroom, am I right?" she cackles out.

You step aside with a small grin as she comes up to her fence to talk to Wanda about her flowers. Leaning against the fence, you take the paper from your pocket and wait for Agnes to lose her stamina. You watch Wanda's side eye as her hand gently pats your arm, a silent apology that this moment was shattered.

Continuing your read on the Space Race as you settle onto the swinging bench you had helped put on Wanda's porch, soft laughters fill your ears. You can practically see Wanda forcing that smile on her face and then you hear Agnes let out a shrill goodbye to you both, your hand raising in a wave as you continue to stare down. If you can avoid eye contact, hopefully she won't realize you're there.

Tucking the newspaper under your arm, you glance at Wanda with wide eyes, "She's around here often, huh?"

Wanda's eyes roll, wrapping her arm around you and pulling you towards the house. Stopping at the threshold as she opens the door, she notices you slip away. Looking back, her grin falls from her face.

"Wanda, I hope that whenever... The dinner, when we had the dinner," Wanda's brow cocks slightly at your own confusion but lets you gather your thoughts, "We were joking through a stressful night and I might've... I don't want to force you into anything that you don't want. I just-."

Her chuckle causes you to falter in your words as you look up from the small rips you were tearing into the paper, "Do you want to come inside?"

Letting out a nervous sigh, you rub into the pressure point of your shoulder and try to fight the aching pain, "We never made it official. Don't feel like you need-."

Wanda shakes her head and holds out her hand, "My guitar string broke. You were telling me you play. So, I need your help."

You meet her eyes, feeling that familiar warmth in your body. Reaching for her hand, you intertwine your fingers with a soft grin, "I can fix that."

By the time you had scrounged up some strings and eaten the lunch Wanda insisted on, it was nearing evening. Time moved oddly with Wanda but every second spent with her assured you that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

She already comforted you into certainty that your offhand and drowsy question of asking her to be yours, was taken seriously. Wanda teased you as she watched your hands slowly turn copper strings, saying she wouldn't let any random person fix her porch swing.

"Okay, so look. It's like when you thread a needle. Just put it through the hole and wrap," The last of your words fall out in a muttering jumble as you bite against your lip, trying to get the wire just right.

"And then," stopping to show her which peg to turn, you catch that smiling glow on her face. You feel the pressure of her hand resting on your knee as her eyes wash over you. Feeling your heart skip, you swallow dryly as you try to clear the knot in your throat.

"Are you paying attention? I can't promise I'll always be here to fix this,"

Wanda chuckles playfully, "I think you will,"

Letting out a hum, you continue turning the peg and plucking at the string, listening to the dissonance disappear, "A confident woman. Did you hear anything I said?"

She leans forward, running her fingers down the new strings. They ring out clearly and perfectly in tune, a stark difference from the near rusted strings that were on here. Glancing through her lashes up at you, her fingers brush against yours.

"Mhm," she grins, watching the goosebumps rise on your skin as her finger skims the inside of your wrist, "Fretboards and all of that."

You give a soft laugh, making an easy chord progression and bringing life to the new strings. Closing your eyes, you listen to the harmony play from amongst the strings, satisfied that they'll stay in tune. You settle the guitar down and lean back into the dining room chair, crossing your arms tightly, almost balling yourself up.

Wanda's hand slides off your thigh with your movement and you eye it, feeling your stomach clench. There isn't a moment where her casual touch isn't on you and looking at her close her eyes, you never want it to stop.

"You're good at that," she says quietly.

"I guess I picked it up somewhere. Don't really remember but it came pretty naturally," As you talk, she peeks through half closed eyes as the television switches on.

"And from what I've picked up," you grin at her holding up the large remote, "You're pretty good at sitcoms."

She glances at you with humor filled eyes, "Oh no, I thought that was a well kept secret. Silly me,"

You glance at the flashing screen, watching the title appear for Bewitched. Smiling, you glance over at Wanda. Warmth fills your face as you see her watching you with careful eyes. Her empty hand reaches out for you,

"You know you can sit with me, right?"

Raising your brow, you let out a stifled cough as you quickly put the dining chair back, "Oh, of course."

Sitting down next to her as the episode starts, you find yourself analyzing each of your moves before you make them. Deciding where exactly to put you arm, if you should lean back into the couch or stay rigid despite your aching shoulder.

As you lean back, Wanda moves almost subconsciously. Seemingly as if she's done this movement a million times with you. She curls her knees up onto the couch, leaning into you as she rests her head into the crook of your shoulder with a sigh.

Glancing down at her, a soft smile forms on your face as you see her childlike stare locked onto the screen. Carefully, you life your arm and wrap it around her shoulder, pulling her closer into you. She pats your thigh,

"I think you'll like this one."

With a face, you shake your head, "This is a brand new episode. What makes you say that?"

Wanda doesn't look at you but you can feel the sadness in her voice, "Just watch,"

And you do. Laughing at Endora becoming a doppelgänger of Samantha to get out of shopping. Your laugh shakes Wanda as she leans against you, watching Samantha's face as she realizes her likeness has gotten her another suitor.

The thumb you were trailing along her skin follows your fingers as they wrap around her arm. But you're not holding onto her to keep her close, a flash of heat rushes through your body as your grip tightens. Her small yelp as she tries to pull away from your vice grip is a distant noise as you stare with locked eyes at the television screen. There's an uneasiness in your chest and you can feel your panting breaths but you can do nothing but stare.

Stare at flickering scenes that aren't coming from a poor signal. An image that doesn't belong to the show but belongs to your brain.

A quiet evening inside a large building, bigger than anything you'd ever seen with a television as big as a wall. You can feel Wanda next to you still, but as you glance over, she's not the same. She's relaxed, head still buried into the crook of your shoulder but she's swallow in one of your hooded sweatshirts. She pulls handfuls of popcorn from the front pocket as she chuckles at the show, quoting it with muttered breaths.

There's a burning pain inside your head but it doesn't stop the sad grin on your face as her eyes flick up to you. A face you'd never forget is practically distorted in front of you but her touch so real. She pokes your face gently, reminding you that your favorite part is coming up.

You respond but there's only muffled noises, leaving you to guess what you had said as her eyes widen and glisten in the glowing light. She climbs into your lap as her arms wrap around your neck, kisses littered across your face and you feel a cheerful laugh rise from within you.

A warm breath rushes across your ear, "I love you most."

The screen shimmers, the sound warbles and then you're back on the couch with a stabbing pain behind your eyes. You release the aching joints of your hand that grips Wanda, resting your head in your hands as you feel cool hands run against your back. Slowly, you smell the sweet amber of Wanda's home fill your nose. Her voice breaks through the ringing in your ears and you let out a soft grin.

"Hey, Y/N. Are you okay?"

You nod slowly, "I just... I got a migraine." Turning your head to face her, she brushes the stray hair from your face.

"Can I try something?" Her cool fingers run against your temple as you close your eyes, inviting any help she can provide in this moment.

As they run against your temple, a moan escapes your mouth as you fill the chill from her fingers begin to enter your brain. There's a small red glow but it doesn't bother you, the chill continuing down your spine as the pain begins to dissipate. You let out a small hum, hands reaching out and resting on her thighs. The chill frees your overheated brain and you can almost feel your memory beginning to work once more.

"Did you bring me here to fix your guitar for the talent show tomorrow?"

Wanda laughs, resting her hands on your temple and waiting for your eyes to open, "You think I'm going to do a talent show alone?"

You shrug, "I don't know. Seems you have a knack for magic and such."

When your chuckling dies down, you realize she isn't laughing along with your lighthearted statement. Glancing up at her, you catch her muttering something that sounds like she's surprised that you remember. You clench your brows slightly, wondering how you could ever forget all of those floating pots and lobsters flying around your kitchen.

Her green eyes snap to you as a reassuring grin fills her face. She presses a kiss against the furrowed wrinkles on your forehead, waiting to feel them smooth out.

"Oh no, dear. You're the talented one here."

She pats your arm and quickly stands, making her way to the kitchen. You watch her for a second but she disappears behind the door, the shutters closed and keeping her from you. You let out a soft huff before you turn back to the television and wait for her to come back to you.

There's clanging in the kitchen, causing you to glance over your shoulder and ponder if you should ask if she's alright. But the cold wall you felt when you mentioned her magical abilities was something you didn't want to feel again.

So you wait for her. And she comes back to you with a bowl full of cereal in her hands. you share a smile as she settles next to you and quietly chews on the food. Crossing your leg as the show continues into a commercial, you open your mouth to ask how training the new secretary was going. But before you can even get out a noise, Wanda is on her feet again. You watch her leave back to the kitchen without a word, spoon softly clanging.

"Hey, darling? Would you be a doll and bring me a bowl?"

You clear your throat, waiting for a testy snap of word to not call her that. That she's changed her mind and agrees that whatever was said after that dinner was a mistake. Instead, there's more worrying silence before the door squeaks back open. You turn around, watching her come back to the couch with an extra bowl.

Taking the cold bowl in your hands, you settle it in your lap as you press a thank you kiss against her cheek. She gives you a halfhearted grin as Samantha comes back on the screen but you don't hear anything coming out of the screen.

You watch Wanda second longer, feeling a tension inside of her as she stares at the floating cereal. Were you not supposed to mention her magic? It seemed like it was something that should be odd but there's a familiarity to it. Not much odder than you moving things much heavier than you. Opening your mouth to ask, Wanda stands once more.

You glance down at you half eaten cereal and shake your head as you realize she's going back to the kitchen. A crafty way to pace and sneak away to panic away from your eyes. Standing, you make your way to the kitchen and leave the show playing behind you. Sliding open the kitchen shutters, you see Wanda standing at the counter as she pours her third bowl of cereal.

Stepping as quietly as you can into the kitchen, you wrap your arms around her and take the bowl from her hands. The action snaps her out of her trance as she looks at you, a pout on her face.

"That's my favorite cereal!"

You raise your brows with a grin, "Wanda, you're stress eating."

She looks at you with a roll of her eyes, "But I'm not stressed. How is this stress eating?"

Before you can counter, she's slipped past your arms and makes her way back onto the couch with a content sigh. As you walk back, her eyes intently watch the commercial playing in front of her and doesn't even glance at you, hands resting on your hips.

"You've been freaking out since," you frown, "Are you freaking out because you did that weird, wiggly woo thing with your fingers?"

"No," Wanda scoffs with an unconvincing roll of her eyes, "Of course not. Why would I be stressed? You have freaky strength, I have weird, wiggly woo's." Continuing to play into this act of being as cool as a cucumber, she shrugs and stuffs another spoon of cereal in her mouth.

You lower yourself onto the edge of the couch with a grin, "Then why are you acting so weird?"

"I'm not, Y/N?"

You form your lips into a thin line and stand with a loud yawn. Grabbing the jacket you threw on the armchair, you start slipping your arms into it. This catches her attention quickly. Her eyes slightly widen as you start to look for your shoes.

"I can leave, pretend nothing happened. I didn't see anything. We never met."

"No!" she nearly drops the bowl all over her carpet as she reaches to pull you back by your belt loop. You raise your brows, seeing her recognize this trick you've played. Wanda takes a slow breath as she gently places the bowl onto the coffee table, "I just... I like having you here."

Stopping your movements to fix the tuck of your shirt, you slowly slide the fabric off of your arms and Wanda gives you a pointed look. Shrugging, you place your hands on your waist and wait for more. Much to the delight, Wanda shakes her head with a smile,

"I really like you,"

You grin, dropping your hands from you waist and kneel next to the couch, a weightlessness floating inside of you. Wanda looks at you with those glowing eyes that make you believe that home is inside of her.

"Ever since you moved here, I've felt something," you begin, taking her hand in yours, "I don't want to get spiritual or anything but I feel like I know you. Almost as if I knew you in another life."

You notice once more, the way her face falls as she lets out a slow breath. The sadness that coats her smiles sometimes and a distant stare as if she's looking straight past you. She places a hand on your cheek, "You make me want to protect you from everything."

"Everything?" you chuckle, "Do you mean the pecan pie at that diner or that horrible jello Agnes made? Wanda, darling, I'm not in any danger."

She nods quickly with tightly pressed lips, "Right. Of course, you're not."

"However," you grin at her, your hands sliding up her thighs, "I am low on kisses."

Letting out a hum, her hands run along your neck as yours find her hips and grip tightly. She sighs out, your body pressing her against the cushions of the couch.

"Well then," she gasps out at the sharp sucking against her collarbone, "Why didn't you say so?"

________________________

As you read an article in the newspaper, you absentmindedly stir your steaming cup of coffee as you hum to the distant record. A soft guitar and piano mesh perfectly with the deep hums, just waiting for that haunting voice of Patsy Cline. When it reaches your ears, you can feel the chill down your spine, lips moving as you silently whisper along.

Just remember when a dream appears. You belong to me.

I'll be so alone without you. Maybe you'll be lonesome too.

The sound of a scratching door grabs part of your attention but you can't let go of this oddly, haunting serenade. Wanda wraps her robe around her body as she comes outside, pulling out a chair to sit next to you.

Tapping the spoon against the lip of the mug, you place it back into the sugar bowl as your eyes run along worrying news. Wanda lets out a disappointed noise, brining you fully back to the world around you. As you finish the sentence you're on, your eyes glance slowly up to her.

"I'm sorry, darling. I was distracted."

She carefully tries to scoop out the brown colored lumps, tossing them into your mug with a shake of her head and a grin to follow. Peering around the paper, Wanda raises her brows at the headline article you're reading. An article about suspicious activity through the neighborhood.

It's usually a quiet town and an even quieter neighborhood. School must be on a fall break and all those kids have nothing to do with all the time on their hands.

"You know, I woke up the other night with someone knocking against my window," Wanda admits as you slap the paper down against the table.

"What? Did you call the police? What happened?" your questions spill out of your mouth and you see Wanda's serious face begin to fall apart as your eyes meet.

That sweet chuckle fills the air as she sees your hands crumbling the paper, "It was the tree outside, Y/N. This is a safe neighborhood, you know."

You roll your eyes and tap the paper, "Just cause it's safe doesn't mean that people aren't robbing houses or vandalizing property. Hell, people could be-."

"Capable of making things float and moving cars that park too close to your driveway?" Wanda cuts you off, continuing to tease your unnecessary worry.

Shaking your head, you take a sip of coffee, "Keep it up, darling. I'll make sure that tree keeps knocking against your window."

She hums, holding your hand in hers, her thumb softly grazing against your knuckles with a grin, "You could just come in yourself and keep me up."

You chuckle as you feel a knot in your stomach at the thought, "Someone woke up in a scandalous mood."

"Only for you darling," Her words finish against your lips as she presses against you, "Oh, when you're finished with your coffee," as she stands, Wanda waits for you to look at her so you don't miss the excitement on her face,

"The cabinet came in."

You groan and slide further down into you chair. You had forgotten all about the talent show and subsequently agreeing to help Wanda during an evening you blamed on being so intoxicated with her that you could never say no to her. In reality, you knew if you said no, she'd never let you live it down.

You weren't upset about that night though. It was the moment where you started spending less nights at home and more morning here.

Wanda also guilt tripping you into it. Making sure she emphasized that this was for the children or orphaned dogs, or some other sob story like that. You'd much rather have donated some cash and continued with your day, but you saw the excitement in her eyes. Wanda was adamant about doing it and she still is as she urges you to hurry up and drink your coffee.

She knows you're just trying to keep from practicing with this third cup, you rarely ever drink more than one. Wanda pulls at your arm, groaning for you to get up faster. You chuckle as you slowly lower the mug to the table, watching her roll her eyes and walk away with a flick to your head.

Standing, you tuck your orange and green striped shirt further into your dark brown pants, your laugh following after her. She rushes into the house with excitement beaming off of her as you follow her timidly, half expecting the cabinet to already be out. Wanda disappears around the corner as you call out to her.

'Is it too late to be the assistant?" A hat flings from around the corner and you catch it, looking over the stereotypical magician's top hat.

You place it on your head, tipping it just off center for a laugh. Your eyes catch her red hair peeking out from the corner, her brows raised for you to start the script. You sigh, hiking up your already high pants and clearing your throat. She won't take anything but your best theater acting and you'll always deliver for her.

"Ladies and gentleman, for my final trick, I bring to you..." you pause for the dramatic effect of it all, "The Cabinet of Mysteries!"

You get to the open air and wait for this amazing cabinet to come rolling down the hall. You smile, she's either still getting dressed or you didn't put enough chutzpah into your words.

"Darling? I said. Cabinet of Mysteries!" Pouring as much theatrical drama into it as you can muster.

"And that's my cue," you hear her say quietly to herself as she fills the ooh's and aah's of the audience while she pushes the large box into the room.

You chuckle, grabbing the edge of the cabinet and swiveling it easily into the middle of the living room. She lets it slip from her hands, wiping the small sweat droplet on her forehead as you stare at the wooden contraption.

"Doesn't this seem... a bit much dear?" You glance up at the height of it and give her a nervous smile.

Wanda waves your worry away as she ties a cape around your neck, "This is quite tame to some of the other acts. Keep going."

Sighing, you see her eyes shine even brighter than you thought they could. She loves this. Spending time with you. Pulling you into all these ridiculous antics. Wanda also knows that when she looks at you like this, you'll do anything for her. She learned far too quickly, scrunching her nose for added adorableness.

Clearing your throat, you bend your knees and wave your arms at the cabinet dramatically, "Now, watch closely as I, Illusion," you glance at Wanda to ensure you get the name correct. She nods quickly for you to continue, practically shaking with excitement, "Make my beautiful assistant, Glamour... disappear!"

Wanda steps forward, feigning lightheadedness as she lets out a quiet gasp, posing for dramatic effect with a hand against her head. You chuckle quietly, her hand smacking your stomach to keep it together. Each of you take hold of a knob and swing them open in unison. Holding out your hand as she steps into the box, you press your lips against her cheek,

"You really are very stunning."

Her face quickly blushes as she smiles at you, stepping further into the box, "Why thank you, darling."

Holding her waist, you dramatically turn to the invisible audience and call out, "Fear not, Glamour! I vow to bring you back... exactly as you are." You watch her over exaggerated, worried expression and choke on your laughter.

She slaps your shoulder as she starts to break character, quickly closing the door before you both crack. You tape the Cabinet of Mysteries with your cheap wand, yelling out your magic words. Waving the wand over the door to allow her time to perform the trick, you swing open the door as your cape flows after you and reveals an empty box.

"Ta-da!" you smile brightly and let out a sigh as you stab the wand against your palm.

You glance over as Wanda claps, stepping out from behind the fake wall, excited about how flawless the trick went on the first try. She steps down, wrapping her arms around your shoulders.

"That was amazing!" when her kiss doesn't spark the reaction she thought it would, she creases her brows togethers, "What's wrong?"

You sigh untying the cape and throwing it into the box, "It seems a little much, Wanda. I mean, you're the magician here."

Wanda runs her hands over your large collar, smoothing it out, "Darling you know magician's don't actually do magic, right?"

You roll your eyes, "Obviously."

She hums suspiciously, "Of course you did. It's just a little fundraiser, Y/N. It's our neighborly duty to participate... and a chance to be as normal as possible."

Glancing down at her, you run a finger along her cheeks, "and we're doing that with this?"

She sighs, pulling you closer and resting her chin on your chest with a soft stare, "I'm new here and we both do weird things, but this is our home now. I want to fit in... with you."

You can see the vulnerability in her eyes and it pulls you back to her, the seriousness of her tone. The neighbors know nothing of her abilities or yours for that matter. Yet, she' still worried bout not having place to just yourselves here. To live quiet lives and not have to worry about anything but what to have for dinner.

Smiling, you push back her loose curls, holding her face in her hands, "Oh, Wanda. We do. We shall. I promise you. We'll have the best act out of all these squares."

Wanda leans forward, pressing a short kiss on your lips in gratefulness, knowing you'd ensure the promise was true. Twisting her out from you, she lets out a laugh as she lets go of your hand to close the cabinet doors. You eye a red and bedazzled one piece suit tossed on the back of the couch. Grinning, you hold it up to yourself as Wanda to you waggling your eyebrows playfully.

"Especially with you wearing this,"

Rolling her eyes, she pats your chest, "That's the rest of your costume, dear."

You let out a confused noise, holding it up to your body, "Well, darling. You didn't say I had to use the belt massager."

Wanda takes the costume back, smacking your arm as she laughs. The sound sends a warmth through your body as you watch her pack everything up into the cabinet. She grins back at you, everything her in this moment is radiating comfort and love.

"Wanda?" Picking up her head, she catches sight of the clock and lets out a soft gasp when she sees where the hands sit.

She quickly pats your arm as she whips around for the kitchen, "I forgot to defrost the steaks. I wanted to make you a dinner to thank-."

You follow her quickly, watching her floating things around the kitchen, bowls and recipe cards sling around your head as Wanda opens the freezer. Before she can reach inside, you grab her hands and pull her into you, shutting the freezer door with a foot. She gives you a confused look, trying to pull away to get the steaks.

"Wanda," you say again, giving her a large smile and feeling your heart start to pound. Her brows clench together as she rests a hand on your cheek, worried about what's going through your mind,

"You're doing too much,"

She lets out an annoyed breath and rolls her eyes, "It's a simple dinner, Y/N. It's really nothing."

You pull her in sharply, pressing a firm kiss onto her lips. Her hands run up your back, hot breath rushing over your lips as you messily find each other. Nails dig into your shoulders as your arms wrap tighter and tighter around her waist. You rest your forehead on hers, listening to each other's breathing. Chuckling, you kiss her nose and watch the scrunch that sends butterflies through your stomach.

"Wanda," you whisper once more and she looks up at you, you know she's going to comment on your wearing out her name but you fill the silence. Stopping her and forcing yourself not to stop,

"I love you."

The moment the words touch against your lips, your heart is sent into overdrive, a heavy weight tightening around your chest. Wanda's eyes widen, her fingers gripping your shirt tighter as she nearly tips back into the fridge. Her mouth parts, words stammering over each other but you don't worry.y No woman would be making you steaks to thank you for stopping her door from squeaking unless you were both on the same page.

You grin, "There's no backing out now. We adopted a Cabinet of Mysteries together."

Shaking her head, she presses your lips against you again. This kiss is filled with growing passion and you know these lips are yours to kiss forever.

"I wouldn't dream of it," she whispers, fingers snaking through your hair, "And I love you most, Y/N."

You hum quietly, standing in each other's presence as you soak in this new feeling with each other that will fill the rest of your tomorrows. The new warmth of belonging that balances so perfectly with her cold touch. It feels right. It is right.

In a million different lifetimes, you know you would always speak those three words to this woman. You'd choose every moment, every time to love Wanda.

Wanda turns her wrist and glances down at your watch,

"Despite wanting to spend time hashing out every tiny detail of this moment with you," her wink brings a burning sensation to your cheeks, "I can't be late to the committee meeting."

You follow her into the living room, grabbing your green cardigan off the couch and pull it over your shirt, "I should be off as well. I have a meeting with Grant."

As you smooth your shirt before working at the cardigan buttons, you let out a quiet noise of surprise. You actually remembered your coworker's name. Glancing at Wanda you grin, maybe she's helping with your memory. Yet, when your eyes reach hers, you can feel the uneasiness inside of her.

"Why are you meeting with him, dear?" she questions, helping you fix the buttons you put into the wrong hole and hiding how tense her smile is.

"Well, Mr. Hart has us working on trying to find a profit off of these recent neighborhood crime sprees. Everyone knows the neighborhood watch isn't doing anything and spreading the company name gains customers," You grin softly, patting your pockets to make sure you have everything, "I just want to do something to help."

The tension in her shoulders remains as she tugs down on your cardigan, "That's a swell idea, darling. Just don't feel like you have to be a hero, yeah?" Giving a quick peck on your lips, you can feel a weight on her words that you don't understand.

She gives a nod, satisfied at your tidiness and pulls on her own red cardigan. You wink at her,

"Would you look at us? Westview fitter-inners."

A laugh escapes her finally and you let out a relieved sigh that you aren't leaving her stressed, "I'll see you at curtain call!"

You watch her move into the kitchen to finally take out those frozen steaks without an interruption from you, a wink from her as she disappears. You chuckle, turning as you depart out the door,

“Love you!” 

It’s a warm fall day but there’s a cool breeze that rolls through you. It sends a shiver down your spine as you try to stay warm with a brisk pace. Cars roll along the street to your left as you walk down nearly empty sidewalks. Whistling the jingle to an ad you heard on the radio, you wait for the crosswalk to let you know it’s safe to walk. 

You chuckle to yourself quietly, remembering Wanda’s smile as she called to you about curtain call. The two of you had until the weekend to perfect your act and you knew it would only take a few more tries. It always felt like the two of you were on the same brainwave. You had never felt more whole than when you were with her. Sitting on the couch together or laughing at the dining table every meal together. 

Glancing at the street name, you know there’s a special store on this road. A store you know you’ll eventually walk into after sneakily figuring out the size of the band that would fit perfectly on her finger. For now though, you just want to cross this street and get back to some more practicing with her. 

As the light turns and cars slow, you take a confident step onto the street and glance over to the other crosswalk. Agnes is there in a purple checkered dress and shopping bags hanging from her hands. You never saw her husband but she always talked about him, always drinking on the couch. She waves to you, keeping your attention for a moment longer as you raise your own hand to wave.

You fail to notice a distant honking and a squealing of tires to your left. And in a split second moment, the curtain call comes quickly. As quickly as a speeding car and a blown red light. 

It’s fast and you don’t feel a thing. But you swear as you lose consciousness, you can hear Wanda’s screams through those radio waves.

You belong to me…

______________________________Part 4

#wanda #wanda maximoff #wanda marvel #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda fluff #wanda imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x you #wanda mcu #wanda x y/n

[masterwords]

Summary: Derek misses Hotch while he's working at the Seattle Field Office.

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan

Warnings: mentions of sex (not graphic)

Words: 1.7k

Notes: Pure, unadulterated cute. I sprinted out the entire barebones rough draft in 20 minutes and did my best to flesh it out but there just isn't a lot of substance here. It's just sweet, adorable, idiots in love...pwp but the cute no smut version.

**

“You've been gone for fourteen days...” Derek moans, spinning around in his chair. It's way too late to still be in the office, he knows, but it's the only time he gets to talk to Hotch who is 3 hours behind him in Seattle. The time difference feels surreal.

Short and fast, that was what they'd said. They needed someone to fill in and run the Seattle Field Office while they found a new leader, a week tops. They already had someone in mind. Except that person bailed, and now they're back at square one and well...the BAU has Derek to keep them in line, so Hotch has been over in the Emerald City for fourteen days and counting.

This isn't as bad as his station in Pakistan, but Derek had lulled himself into a false sense of security. It wouldn't happen again. That was an aberration. They'd tried to tap Hotch for Section Chief, and he always wound up right at his desk in the BAU like he belonged there.

But fourteen days...two weeks...that's when a short trip starts feeling an awful lot like something with real permanence.

“I think they've got their eye on someone,” Hotch says absentmindedly, pouring over a stack of employee evaluations that were turned in to him that day. He doesn't even know these people, he's just signing off on things. Putting his signature out there on things he can't exactly back up. It's not his usual prerogative, but these are desperate times. He's just a suit in a chair. Except he knows the truth...they love him here, they've wanted him back since he left and someone thought maybe bringing him here might remind him how much he loved this office too.

And he does. It's been a breath of fresh air being back in Seattle. But he can't live here, his family won't follow.

“I just want you home.”

“How has it been with you and Jack?”

“Great. He's great, he listens to me, we've been playing lots of games and eating lots of junk food...”

“Derek...”

“What? When the cat's away...”

That's not true. Derek hasn't fed Jack any junk food, that's been all Jessica who stops at the grocery store every day before picking Jack up for school and brings them some kind of treat. Ice cream, candy bars, sugary breakfast cereal, She eats her feelings. She also doesn't like when you point that out.

“How much longer?”

“I don't know.”

Gifts started showing up in Seattle on the third day. Nothing major. Just lunch, a burger and fries delivered to Hotch's desk from The Athenian.

“Sleepless in Seattle?” Hotch texted and Derek sent back a little red heart. He had enough to take back to the hotel and eat for dinner as well, though it didn't make it that far in the end. He ate his dinner at his desk as well...one of those days.

Never one to be outdone, he made sure coffee and pastries were waiting for Derek when he arrived at work the next morning.

And so it went, each exchanging little gifts of food and flowers from three thousand miles apart. Hotch hadn't even considered what he would have to eat in forever, Derek had it scheduled every day like clockwork. Jessica called it twisted. “Here I am gaining ten pounds with all the ice cream I have to buy myself and you two are playing cross-country footsie. It's disgusting.”

The next morning there was a chocolate croissant and a coffee waiting for her at her desk. Neither of them told her who was responsible and it didn't matter, it made her day. She was in on the game.

Donuts were sent to Jack's classroom courtesy of Voodoo Donuts. Hotch had to make a trip down to Portland to meet with another SAC and figured why not. Jack's classroom would get a kick out of the wild colors and silly little voodoo doll shapes, and he got to spend an hour waiting outside in the rain in a line that stretched around the block. Some might grumble at that, but Hotch likes the rain and he loves not being cooped up inside of an office building. Sure, he was cold and miserable, but he was also happy. (And out quite a pretty penny when all was said and done, shipping a box of donuts across the country fast enough to keep them relatively fresh wasn't cheap.)

He got a hot drip coffee and a fresh maple bar for his troubles.

“Seventeen days...” Derek whines. He's temping his roasted chicken, which he should have put in earlier, he knows that dammit. He's angry when it's still ten degrees below where he needs it. That's at least another half hour, they're going to be eating late again. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

A bouquet of bright orange tiger lilies shows up at his office around mid-morning on a day when Hotch has been feeling rather under the weather. He's had a headache for three days, the kind that makes your jaw tight and your teeth sing. It could be his sinuses or maybe dehydration, maybe it's just his body telling him it needs a rest. He hasn't had a day off since he arrived in Seattle, not really. They're no closer to finding someone to take over than they were the week prior, no one wants the job. The flowers make him smile in spite of the way his tight jaw clicks and groans like rusty old machinery.

“Thank you,” he says when Derek calls later. At their designated time. “The flowers are beautiful.”

“So are you...” Derek says quietly. “That tie looks nice. Is it new?”

“I found it at a little consignment shop on my lunch hour a couple of days – wait..”

He looks up, and in the doorway to the unit Derek is standing with another smaller bouquet of flowers in his hands. Peach and white peonies, the color of a sigh, the gentle color of a spring sunset. He looks like a kid ready for his prom date. Hope is smeared across his features.

“Twenty-two days...” he says, handing Hotch the flowers. “I know I shouldn't be here, but I thought sneaking into your hotel room and surprising you there might get me shot.”

“You're not wrong.”

Hotch shouldn't leave, he knows he has too much to do but he hasn't had a day off in twenty-two days and one night isn't going to cause irreparable damage.

The next day, when he calls in sick because his headache has reached its crescendo and he'd much rather lie in the hotel room with Derek all day than go sit at that desk. They make good use of room service, barely leave the bed. The view from the room is picturesque, a full and un-obscured view of the Puget Sound from over the top of the concrete jungle. Not even a crane gets in their way.

They drink their coffee on the balcony, smelling the briny air before heading back to the bed. They make love enough times that Hotch loses count, showering and sleeping and eating briefly between. He loses count, but he also loses the headache somewhere along the way and he'll take both of those things gladly. Twenty-two days apart had created a hunger in them that neither had realized until they were here sharing the same air, the same timezone, and this time (unlike Pakistan) there were no hard feelings to work through. Just making up for lost time the best way they knew how, with hands and lips and a Do Not Disturb sign hanging from the doorknob.

“So...what the hell is a consignment shop anyway?” Derek asks, still thinking about what Hotch said about his new tie while popping a strawberry into his mouth. Hotch hums and hunts for something to watch on the TV. They'll barely pay attention to it anyway but the noise is nice. It drowns out the way that neither one of them seems to be able to keep their inevitable moans in check. And why should they have to? It's been three weeks since they've even been in a room together, so if they get a little carried away between the sheets who can really blame them?

It isn't just about sex, they take short cat naps in their love-warm sheets and they do talk a little, too. Just enough. But they've been talking so much lately, it's all they've been able to do, that it doesn't feel very important. While they sit and visit over meals and drinks, Derek leans against Hotch, keeps one hand anchored on his thigh or his shoulder or his back at all times. And Hotch makes no attempt to break away. Time will do that for them soon enough.

“It's a secondhand store. I found something for you, too.”

Derek wears his new cashmere sweater back at Quantico when he returns from his whirlwind surprise trip and everyone notices. It's the color of rich, deep purple-almost-black plums and the way it sits against his warm skin is breathtaking. Penelope can't stop touching him. Running her hands up and down his arms. It even smells good.

“It smells like Hotch,” he says when she comments on it later. She purses her lips and doesn't really know what to say to that. She's rarely speechless.

“He really knows you.” She'd looked up the tag, gasped and nearly died of sticker-shock, and then tried to remind herself he'd purchased the thing secondhand. Or, he claimed to have anyway. She wouldn't put it past him to tell Derek that just to ensure that he wore the damn thing.

“I would hope so, after all this time.”

“How much longer? We all miss him. It's not fair, those stinky Seattle people get him and we're stuck here without our boss-man.”

Derek smiles and glances at his phone, ready for it to ring. Hotch said he'd be the one to call tonight. “Soon.”

“That's what you said last time.”

“And it's what I'll keep saying until it's true. Now get outta here so I can talk to my man in peace.”

#aaron hotchner #derek morgan #hotchgan #mortch #criminal minds #hotch x morgan #aaron hotchner x derek morgan #fanfiction