#(only barely knew what real analysis was until last week

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DATE: JANUARY 8, 2023

summary: as you begin to build your confidence, you try to learn some things on your own to surprise harry. you know, just as a little thank you. meanwhile, harry finally starts to think your unspoken arrangement is a little too personal.

request: yes!!

words: 6k

warnings: SMUT (m-receiving [hand-job, oral], dirty talk), language, and loads of overthinking! (will probably have angst in the next part!)

note: PLEASE tell me how you guys feel about this!! comment/reblog/send me a message! PREVIOUS PART.

bestfriendrry x inexperienced!reader

—

It’s barely been a few days since you last saw Harry in person, and quite frankly, you’ve never noticed how much time has passed until now. Until your mind was constantly occupied with thoughts of his hands on your body and his sweet, cocky words in your ear. You wanted to be sick of it, wanted it to be done and through. But your brain just could not let go of his touch. You must have released too many hormones during all that touching because time has never felt so prolonged and stretched. You have gone weeks without seeing Harry before, and although you’ve missed him in the past, you’ve never connected every little thing to him. Certain words and objects somehow prime your memory directly to Harry. Even thinking of your doll collection back at home sends shivers down your spine. He has seriously ruined you, and you hate that you don’t hate it.

After the last time with Harry, you swore it was the last time. You didn’t say it out loud but in your head. You knew that if you explicitly told Harry that that was the last time that it would be the last time and he would never touch you again. No, not unless you asked, not unless you begged. Which he would enjoy too much. What you found out was that you don’t have enough self-discipline to tell yourself no. So, it only makes sense that you’re still agonizing over his touch and how rough yet soft his hands are.

God, why are you thinking of his hands right now?

Your laptop is resting on your legs, warming you up as you try to finish your mid-term paper. At first, your fingers were flying around your keyboard, typing your ass off to submit it. But now you’re barely halfway through and you can’t even comprehend the last sentence you wrote because you keep thinking about Harry. Somehow, you managed to connect some Shakespeare poetry analysis to Harry.

Come on, how does that even happen without conscious effort?

No matter how many times you want to call up Harry and simply ask him for another “lesson” you can’t. It just feels too selfish to you now. He may have willingly offered because he felt bad for you, but now, you feel bad for him because he has to teach you. Maybe if you guys had a set time for all this you would feel less guilty. A schedule, just like your lectures! Then it would be like a real class.

You would never skip.

But you do recall the last thought that you had when you were with him. Would it really be so bad to learn the giving side of sex? Isn’t that the main reason why Harry is teaching you? Firstly, he wants you to understand your own body, which you feel pretty confident with after his sweet praises and words. Oh, and you won’t forget how he made you stare at yourself (or really him) in a full-body length mirror the first time. Yeah, that definitely still gives you chills. And a newly-found level of self-esteem, which is why you feel confident enough in your decision.

You’re going to do a bit of research on your end of the deal. A deal that is unspoken, so therefore, has non-existent rules. You and Harry never specified if you could pleasure him, but you would be getting the experience you needed, so what is the harm? It is in the unspoken rules. So, you’re going to surprise him with what you’ve learned.

After you finish your paper, of course.

Ugh.

–

Watching a variety of porn videos was extremely weird because you were watching them for a different reason than what they are made for.

Your eyes were straining at your laptop screen as you carefully inspected all the women’s actions. Sometimes, they would unbutton the man’s pants, sometimes they wouldn’t, but they always sank to their knees with their eyes on him. The women spit on their hands and stroke gently, or they would just put their mouth straight on him. It caused you to blink and swallow in fear because what if you didn’t like it? What if it tasted so horrible that you’ll never want to suck another man off in your life? What if your lack of blow-jobs is the reason you don’t have a boyfriend? Or why you don’t have a future husband in the running?

This is why you cannot be left alone.

From all the women you observed, they all had seductive expressions and alluring features that you were almost positive you did not possess. They had the most perfect bodies and that effortlessly flowing hair and cute little moans and they knew exactly what to do. It may not be the best thing to base anything off of, but you couldn’t help but feel a little insecure. Watching the videos gave you a little more knowledge, but also made you feel a little more self-conscious about your appearance. What if Harry didn’t even find you attractive? He definitely doesn’t want some girl mindlessly messing with his dick, especially when it’s not erect (which you have learned in health class in high school thankfully). All those words of reassurement and praise, were they just for the moment? Just to make you feel good and that’s it? Did he mean any of it? You couldn’t even manipulate yourself to an answer.

God, sometimes, you just wish that he would reach out to you. Wouldn’t that make everything so much easier? You would never say no if he just texted you first. But why would he do that? He’s doing you the favor, so you would have to be the one to text him. Fuck, how did he go from your best friend to your best friend that you’re obsessing over because he’s really good at sexual things? Maybe he hypnotized you in that mirror.

–

Harry thinks he might just die. Not from school or work, but from you. Out of all his friendships in his lifetime, even his relationships, he has never been thinking about a person so damn much.

He’s been friends with you for many, many years, and Harry has never once thought of you in a sexual manner. Or even in a romantic way. When you two were growing up, he definitely noticed you having some changes through your teenage years as teenagers do. But even then he always knew you were just friends. And that’s all it will ever be, so he never saw through that wall. Men are simple creatures; Harry realized you guys were friends, so that was it. End of story.

But for some reason, years later, he is being haunted by your sudden attractiveness? Harry’s not fucking stupid when he thinks this. You’ve always been gorgeous and funny and smart, so it made perfect sense why you didn’t have a boyfriend. You just checked too many boxes, right? The only possible solution of why men weren’t kissing your feet had to be because of your own expectations.

You’ve always been the kind of girl who thought every little thing to the tee. Harry even remembers you planning your wedding with your dolls when you were younger. You had a binder with all the people you would invite and colors that would decorate the walls of the church your parents got married in. Getting married in a church may seem basic to anyone else, but to you it was special because your grandmother also got married there. To you, it was a tradition, and Harry knows you love traditions and schedules. It’s like a plan that’s set in stone for you to complete. He just knows when you get married you’ll have the most thoughtful wedding because you would have put your heart into every single detail. You’re barely 22, finishing up your last year of college just like Harry, so you still have plenty of time to find your future husband.

Yet you think it’s the end of the world that you don’t have one in the running right now, and Harry has no idea why.

Thinking of the future like this used to make Harry feel happy for you because he knows it’s one of your biggest dreams, but there is something inside of him that’s blocking him from feeling like that anymore. It’s a nagging, sort of distant feeling in his chest that kind of makes him ill. He always knew he was going to be at your wedding in some form, but maybe he wishes it was…

No, that’s ridiculous. How did he overthink that much?

See? You’ve seriously fucked him up. This is exactly why he cannot text you. This is exactly why he cannot touch you anymore. No matter how badly he wants to. God, does he want to. You haunted his mind and invaded his soul until you were completely entwined within his consciousness, lingering like a flashbulb memory. He pitied you at first, so he wanted to help his best friend with her inexperience. That’s what friends are there for–to help you through the embarrassing times in secret, so when you go out into the real world it’s not so bad.

But now, Harry just wants to keep you for himself. He hates touching you knowing that it’s going to be for someone else one day. But he got too greedy to say no to himself, so he put you on his thigh the second day rather than fingering you. Fuck, he wishes he could slide his cock into you while whispering the sweetest and dirtiest words in your ear, just for your face to burn up in flames. He wants to hear your soft moans echo in the air from his cock because you want to be with him, not because you’re trying to “get better” at sex.

No, Harry doesn’t think he can do anything more with you without figuring his shit out.

–

Incoming call: Y/N

Harry wanted to answer it, but he hesitated too long. Fuck, what if you really just wanted to hang out this time? But fuck, he missed your touch. And your voice. And your face… How is he supposed to be around you without reaching out to caress you?

Missed call: Y/N

Voicemail: Y/N: “Hey, I just called to see what you were up to. I was just seein’ if you wanted to hang out. But clearly you’re busy, so it’s fine. I, um, have a surprise that I wanted to show you sometime. I… Well, I’ve been trying to learn some things on my own, if you know what I mean. I’ve been watching some videos, but you know, nothing is as good as a real life teacher! So, um, just call me back whenever you’re free. Bye!”

Harry was royally fucked. His mind couldn’t stop thinking about what you might have been learning about. You were also so cute in your voicemail that Harry just had to save it. He doesn’t think he’s ever saved someone’s voicemail before, but he’s never been more thankful for letting that call go to one. He took a single deep breath before he pressed the call button.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Doll. Sorry, I was in the shower…”

Now he has to rush to take a shower as you drive over to his house to present him with your little “surprise.”

–

As Harry stood up from his couch to answer the door, he regrets not jerking off in the shower.

He had an incredible hard-on, and it was embarrassingly from the voicemail. He was a little too excited for whatever your surprise was. You gave him no hint, but he’s assuming it has something to do with masturbating.

“Harry,” Your voice was chipper as you greeted him almost formally. But it was a little too high and squeaky. It was obvious to Harry that you were nervous, which made him feel a bit better in a way. You didn’t seem as distressed as you last had been, so maybe you did learn to get yourself off. Then you wouldn’t need him anymore.

That was the goal, right?

“Y/N,” he says as he widens the door and lets you in. You scurry past him and onto his couch, immediately heating up at the memory from before.

You swallowed the dryness that drained your voice, deciding how to bring it up to him. You take a deep breath and remember the confidence that he’s been trying to instill in you. You recall all the videos you’ve been researching and how assertive all those women had been. While you do so, Harry follows you to the couch and plops right down next to you.

If you hadn’t been so nervous yourself, maybe you would have seen how shifty Harry was. His eyes were darting all around, trying to look busy. His mind was scouring thoughts of things to say, but couldn’t settle on the right one. Maybe you’d see that he swallowed all the saliva in his mouth until his tongue was dry and he was biting his lip. Only then did you look up from your shivering fingers to see his bottom lip anxiously tucked between his bunny teeth.

“I wanted to talk about our…deal,” You started, tucking your calves underneath your body. Harry nods, but doesn’t say anything. “We never explicitly stated any details of what this contract entailed–”

“English, please, Y/N. You get all formal and chatty when y’nervous.”

Your skin heated, embarrassed. “Right… We never talked about what we were doing. So, if what I’m about to ask breaks some unspoken rule, just let me know. If you actually want to stop doing this, also let me know–”

“Just say it, Y/N.”

“I’ve been watching videos on how to pleasure you…” You speedily say, causing the room to go silent. You feel the heat from in between your legs grow whilst also flowing towards your neck and face. You wonder how hot a human can get before they just boil over and explode. Harry’s seemingly nonchalant face grows a smirk, which is comfortable to you now. “God, you’re a dick.”

After your mumble, you continue: “I felt… bad that you were doing everything. And I just thought that maybe I could learn something from this. And you could be… rewarded in a way.”

“So you’ve been learning what exactly?” His smirk never fades. Of course he wants you to be explicit with him, which you struggle with. He just loves making you nervous. He feeds off of it.

He’s selfish. He’s so selfish and he can’t control it. When he’s with you, it’s like driving a car without its brakes. He speeds right through all the stop signs without blinking twice.

Just one last time, he swears. Then he’s ending it.

“C’mon. Would it be easier to tell me or show me, hmm?” You swear his voice dropped an octave, just like your eyes dropped to the area on his sweatpants. There was a lump that you can’t recall being there before. Were you looking?

You took a deep breath and kept it there, unable to breathe normally at how straightforward Harry is. He’s always been like that, never changed. So why is he just now making you breathless?

Confidence.

“Okay.”

You move your eyes up to meet Harry, and he’s already looking at you. You feel your heart jump at his sudden stare, strikingly green and beaming with lust. Without removing your sight from him, you shift yourself off the couch and onto his carpet.

His eyebrows slightly raise as you hesitantly reach for the waistband of his pants. He’s enjoying this too much, he thinks.

“Go on. I want to see what you can do,” his simple words urged you to actually grab his sweatpants. As he lifts his hips, you yank the material down until his boxers are showing.

“Huh,” The noise left your mouth before you could stop it. Harry stares at you puzzled, blinking at you curiously. That’s the first time a girl has ever made that noise in front of him before. In this position especially…

“What?” Harry has never felt more self-conscious than right now. He was alright until you made that sound. That’s never something a guy wants to hear when a girl is on her knees in front of him.

“Nothing, I just took you as more of a ‘briefs’ guy.” Harry instantly felt more relieved.

“I’ave both. Haven’t y’borrowed my boxers before?” he asks. Your eyes widen as you look down. Maybe you have in the past, but the thought of that now sounds incredibly too intimate to you. Yeah, you’ll never be doing that again.

“Anyway,” You smiled forcefully while trying to rid the heat from your cheeks, “before I pull down your boxers, I have to ask you something.”

“Of course,” he agrees with sarcasm laced in his tone, which only makes you roll your eyes. You’re inches away from his cock, merely separated by a sheer layer of clothing and you have a question. He can bet it’s not going to be can I take this off now?.

“Do you find me attractive?” You had to ask. You bit the inside of your cheek, chewing on the nerves that you felt. Harry just stares at you, blinking. You always find a way to catch him off guard, he thinks. He doesn’t say a word, just two eyes lasering into yours as if he’s searching for the perfect answer. “It’s a simple yes or no. But if it’s a no, then I don’t want to do this. Because then you’ll be all-all soft in my hands or my mouth and then you’ll just be uncomfortable. Guys must not like it when they’re soft, right? You have to be hard, it means you like it… Right?”

When you got nervous, you got chatty. It was one of your most evident qualities. You had to fill the silence that Harry had created with his nonexistent answer.

Harry wishes that was a simple yes or no. Of course, he found you attractive, so yes. But only now are those feelings becoming more complicated, diverging from anything ‘simple’. It would feel like crossing a line if he said yes.

But Harry was great at brushing it off.

“Y’right. So why don’t y’pull these down and see for yourself, Doll?”

Your posture had been stick-straight and stiff unknowingly. But his hot words had your icicle-like spine melting in seconds, shivers cascading down your back like an avalanche.

You swallowed for what felt like the hundredth time since you’ve been here. You shifted on your legs on the ground, trying to get comfortable. You remind yourself that you are going to be confident and show Harry exactly what you have been learning. It should be simple. You should be able to do it without feeling all these emotions.

But it seems so hard when it’s Harry that’s tied to them.

Your fingers tuck into the waistband of his boxers and slowly pull them down. When the material is at his ankles, you finally acknowledge the hard length that sprung from beneath them. His cock was nothing like those porn videos. It wasn’t abnormally monstrous with loads of veins on the sides that looked impossible to fit into any hole. It wasn’t ugly and unappealing. Just the sight of his length alone made you want to touch him. Made you want to put your mouth on him…

You never thought you’d want to do that with anyone ever. You never thought you’d be attracted to that because of those unsettling videos. But of course, Harry is throwing you off, making reality much more fantastical and dreamy than it really is. How does he do such a thing?

You know whoever you fall in love with will not have a cock like this.

His tip was a dark pink with a smidge of wetness at the top. He only had one prominent vein that ran down the left side that was throbbing from neglect. You didn’t even notice your mouth watering, salivating as if you were classically conditioned.

“Does that answer y’question, Doll?” Harry was trying his very hardest not to stroke himself. Better yet, to come. The doe-eyed expression on your face was priceless and would forever be framed in his mind. The glossy, wondrous glint in your eyes screamed lust and anticipation. You seemed excited, but Harry could never be sure because he still feels a tad vulnerable. He’s never felt so revealed before.

He guesses with you it would have always been different no matter what. Because it’s you.

“Yes,” Your voice was quiet as you placed your hands beside his thighs. You were unbelievably nervous now. You were trying to recall what the videos did at this point in your head, but you lost your train of thought. You were literally entranced by his dick. Also something you never thought would happen.

“D’you know what happens now? Or do y’need some help?” he taunts, subtly squinting his eyes as he leans the slightest bit forward. He’s attempting to ignore the throbbing of his cock as you lock your stare into his eyes. It twitches, but he continues to neglect it. He thinks that if and when you decide to touch him, he will come on the spot.

“I know what to do, Harold.”

“Then do it, sweetheart.”

You repeat his words back to him, mocking his tone before spitting on your hands aggressively. Once you feel like they’re not as dry, you put one hand on him without hesitation. His taunting tone fueled you with more confidence than you would have thought. Your legs were tightly squeezed together, so you didn’t have to worry about the tingle that slowly began to throb between them.

Harry hissed lowly, followed by a gentle growl at your touch. Your hands were colder than he had thought, catching him by surprise.

“Holy shit, your hands are freezin’. How did I not feel tha’?”

“Shut up,” You grumbled as you continued to stroke him roughly, not really paying attention if it felt good. You’re annoyed with him because his dick is so perfect, and he’s trying to rush you.

“Hey,” his finger goes beneath your chin and forces your eyes away from his cock. You look into his eyes with a serious pout on your face. He wants to believe you’re truly mad, but he knows you, and he knows that you’re not. You’re secretly frustrated because you don’t know what to do now that you’re actually in the situation. And he knows you hate not knowing what to do. “You’re on your knees for me. Don’t forget where y’are. Now, show me what ya learned, pretty girl.”

His words never failed to make you dizzy. He might as well have put you on the teacups ride and then spun you in a circle. His finger was grazing your chin, and you felt as if you could melt in a puddle before him. He had you weak. He made you want to say yes, sir and obey his every command. Every drop of feminism left your body at his very words, your body going all in.

“Yes,” The s sounded slurred because the word sir nearly fell from your lips. It felt automatic, it felt right. But you didn’t want to cross any boundaries that you guys failed to cover.

Your hands continued to move up and down his length, feeling more comfortable with him in your hand.

“Can I…” You leaned forward, your mouth nearing his cock. He was leaking more than before and his tip was pulsing red. You didn’t even wait for his answer because you knew you already had his consent to do whatever you wanted.

Your mouth dropped down to his cock, sucking on just the tip. Harry doesn’t hold back his moan as it echoes throughout his living room, bouncing off his walls. You don’t move yourself any lower. You just swirl your tongue around the rutty tip and consume all of his juices. The taste wasn’t bad. Maybe a little salty, but it was nothing like you would have assumed. In a way, it was a little addicting. You had hoped that’s what cum tastes like, and you hoped that you would taste his.

Was that a weird thing to hope for?

“Fuck, Y/N,” Harry grumbled as his large hand slotted in your hair, in need of some stability. You didn’t mind, instantly loving the feeling of his hand on you. He didn’t pull or tug you, but just kept you in place. Almost as if he didn’t want you to go any lower in fear of you choking.

“Use y’hands for the rest,” Even with his eyes half shut, he was still able to instruct you on your technique. While his hand was strong, you went lower onto his cock, taking more into your mouth than before. The weight of his tip on your tongue was heavy and hot, but it didn’t stop you from slowly moving it in and out. Your hands eventually found a rhythm with your mouth, understanding speed and pace.

The louder Harry’s sounds got, whether they were breaths or moans or growls, hinted that you were in the right direction. You knew technique and skill was all learned from experience, but also being attentive to your partner. When Harry was pleasuring you, he always listened to you. Almost too well. Even just after a few sessions, he knew what got you off the fastest better than you ever did (obviously).

“Doin’ so good, Doll,” his fingers curled in your hair and you released some type of moan around his cock. The sound vibrated throughout his body, sending a shock to his core. “Gettin’ off on this, huh? ‘Course y’are. Just desperate for whateva you can get.”

Harry was completely right. Your clit was throbbing in your underwear and your nipples were beyond their peaks. But you didn’t seem as hopeless as you usually are because you finally had a reasonable distraction. Your neck was beginning to ache as your jaw felt like it was about to lock. But your hands never stopped, and your tongue continued to explore his circumference, even after swirling around it a million times.

Harry had been holding off for too long. He twitched every time he thought he was about to come, attempting to make it fade. But your mouth was just so warm, so wet, and so, so desperate to be filled, it was impossible to stay calm.

“D’ya want me to come, baby? Huh? Want me to come down your pretty, little throat? Gonna swallow it like the good girl you are, right? It’s the last step,” Harry was nearly choked from the way you moved on his cock. Yes, you were sloppy, but you were determined.

He could feel your nod along with the halt of your hands. You rested your hands on his bare thighs, clawing gently at the tiger tattoo. To his shock, your mouth went as deep as you could go, his tip nudging the back of your throat. He felt your gag, which he had expected for how fast you went down on him. Just as he was about to pull out of you completely though, you persevered, which made him go over the edge.

Before he knew it, his orgasm was spurting down your throat, coating your tongue. When he was all empty, you finally pushed him off of you to catch a breath. Harry was still in shock. He did not expect you to exceed your own limits and swallow all of him without hesitation. You have always had a good work ethic, though.

“Holy fuck, baby, are you okay?” Now, his hands grab your aching jaw in concern, pulling you up to sit on the couch. You didn’t realize how much your knees were going to hurt, but now that you’re up, all you are is achy.

The pet name made your skin hotter than it already was, wondering if he realized what he had just called you. Maybe it was an accident, but it had your heart accelerating at a speed that did not seem remotely healthy.

“Y-Yeah,” You croaked out, throat immensely dry. Harry quickly puts his boxers and pants back on before leaving to the kitchen. You’re left on his couch in shock while you rub your aching jaw.

Harry’s back with some water that you chug without thought. He can’t help but chuckle a little at your nature. He observes you doing a simple task, drinking water for your parched throat. But even with the mundane action, he’s somehow in awe. When you seem finished, you put the glass down and look at him.

“Well, that was difficult,” You sigh, leaning back on the couch. You believe that if you just pretend that what you’re feeling is normal then everything is normal. Harry’s concern for you still echoes in your head; the word baby is never going to be the same.

“I bet,” Harry’s response was dry, but only because he feels like he has to.

“Was it… horrible?” You asked, cringing in fear of his response. You know Harry’s going to be only honest, which means he could be brutal.

It felt way too fucking good for your first time and made me see you in a way I’ve never seen you before is what Harry wanted to say. But he settled with, “It was fine, Doll.”

“That’s it? Oh, c’mon! Give me something honest. I need to learn, don’t I?” You sounded like a little child. Harry rolled his eyes as you scooted closer to him on the couch. He swallowed at the proximity, which you didn’t bat an eyelash at. “C’monnnn.”

Truth be told, your heart was still racing, but you were too immersed in how off-put Harry seemed. You liked that he didn’t have some charming, witty comment hanging off the tip of his tongue. It was enjoyable to watch him get a little nervous.

“Don’t be so stiff,” his arm falls on the back of the couch, “probably why y’neck hurts so bad.”

“Pfft. My neck does not hurt,” You bluffed as you rolled your eyes, avoiding eye contact. Harry knows you too well, though, and didn’t believe you for a sliver of a second.

“Really.”

“Mhm.”

His hand moves to cup the back of your neck, absorbing its warmth. It was almost embarrassing how hot your neck was, flush with the aftermath of sucking him off. You won’t lie and say that it wasn’t attractive. You won’t lie and say that you didn’t get off on it. Everything that Harry had said had been true. It was evident that you were turned on by pleasuring him, just like he you.

You swallowed with his hand caressing your neck. His soft touch slowly turned into a gentle massage, squeezing the aching muscles between his fingers. You couldn’t stop the whispered moan that left your mouth at the relief. The slight roughness from his callouses was doing wonders to the soreness at the base of your neck. Your eyes had shut now, fully encompassed with his hand rubbing your skin.

If it didn’t feel so good, maybe you would worry about how this is too intimate and you too were way too close. But his touch wasn’t as electrifying as it was calming right now, soothing you until your mind’s thoughts were lulled asleep. You were amazed at how his hands could be both. You felt your shoulders drop in peace, teeth pillowing into your lips.

You weren’t conscious of all your movements, but each made Harry go mad. His touch was simple and light, but he could see it really relaxed you. Maybe you weren’t just sore from this, but from school as well. Sometimes, Harry felt like he hadn't talked to you as much because you too were so busy doing… this.

You guys lost time to just being friends.

Maybe Harry was too in his head, but he hated that. He hated that you hadn’t been texting him as often or even coming over as much. Every time you did now, it only had to do with sex. Don’t get him wrong, he loves that, but with you, it’s always more. It’s always been more. And he hates that there’s no ‘more’ anymore.

Should you two stop doing this? Harry already feels guilty enough. He feels selfish because he wants you in ways he knows he can’t have you, so why is he tempting himself? Each time you come over he knows what you want and he selfishly gives it to you because he convinces he’s doing you a favor. At first, he innocently was. But now, he doesn’t see you as a friend as much as something more. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to back petal his way back into a comfortable friendship with you as long as this continues. Losing his best friend because he was horny and thoughtless is unreasonable to him. That’s what it is, he concludes. That he is just horny, and he’s thinking with his dick.

But there’s a certain pattern of his heart that continues to beat your name in a rhythm that’s new and unfamiliar to Harry.

It feels like a crossed line, a boundary overstepped. If he were to officially cross the line, you would have your back turned on him unknowingly because there is no way you feel the way he’s feeling. He fears he is subconsciously trespassing an area of your friendship with these feelings that are bubbling in his chest. It’s hard for him to say he’s just a horny college boy when it comes to you, but that’s all he’s got.

Harry was so caught up in his head, he hadn’t realized how close you two had gotten. Your face looked beyond serene, basking in the warmth and comfort of his hands. But Harry felt guilty. He couldn’t stop feeling selfish for touching you, even if it’s what you wanted. You don’t know his intentions, so each massage on your muscles feels wrong.

Suddenly, Harry removes his hands off of your shoulders and your eyes peel open. You sigh with a gentle smile on your face, very thankful for the time he put into massaging your neck.

“Thank you. I guess my neck did hurt a little–”

“I, um, actually forgot I have work,” Harry blurts as he removes his hand from your neck entirely. Your smile fades as you shake your head. His words brought you back to reality instantly, taking you away from your sweet serenity. One where his hands are on you all the time, lulling you to sleep whenever you’re stressed. It was a great daydream, truly.

“Oh. Yeah. Did you say that before?”

“Don’t know. Must have slipped my mind. Sorry,” His responses were short and clipped, a tell that something was up.

“Hey,” You stopped him from getting off the couch. The worry laced in your voice seemed to slow him down. “What just happened?”

With anyone else, he would ask what do you mean? as if the other person was stupid. But he knew you weren’t stupid, and you knew exactly what was going on. Something had changed within that moment and you weren’t just going to have him kick you out because he had some random thought.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore. M’sorry,” he sighs, shoulder drooping.

You no longer felt serenity as the words fell from his lips. It’s always your best friends that know where it especially hurts. Right after you have done something vulnerable he drops that shit on you. Unbelievable.

This is why people should never do sexual shit with their best friends. Or better yet, any of their friends. It’s just way too complicated. It can never be as simple as a favor.

No, it’s way too fucking personal.

—

AHHH HOW DO WE FEEL??

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[dauntlesschampions]

There's a slight jump with Trip's entrace, half because she didn't hear him coming and half because, well, who's to say. More than likely it's nerves, but it might also be from having been caught taking a break (doodling in the margins of her notes, which she covers promptly but smoothly under her arm--)

"Oh!" Alyssa turns her head to smile, "Hey Trip. I'm just-- working on my real analysis assignment." she bounces her pencil against the table as she talks,

"Got stuck on this curve. Can't really figure out if it's an open or closed interval? I'm sure it's open, but, if I'm off even slightly then it messes with the whole sequence." it's really stressing her out and it shows, but she's quick to correct:

"Sorry," she says a lot more sheepish than before, "didn't mean to just throw that on you."

ㅤㅤ❝𝓦hatcha got there?❞ Trip asked, looking down at the white ranger who seemed to be stuck on something. Perhaps his futuristic self and foreseeing mind would be able to help.

|| @dauntlesschampions

[differentkettleoffishalltogether]

#1 Fan [Part 1/2]

Summary: Spencer knows he’s seen his new neighbor somewhere before.

A/N: This was a blurb request from my sideblog that got completely out of hand so here she is as a full fic! (We’re gonna pretend like I know how OnlyFans works)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff & Smut 

Warnings/Includes: smut, graphic descriptions of sexual acts, masturbation (male & female), voyeurism(?), please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed!

Word count: 2.9k

Request: “Blurb about basically the same fic as the other one except she just moved in and he recognizes her as the person he subs to on OF. She’s describing her hot neighbor- and yeah” from @thatsonezesty13​

Masterlist

Read Part 2 Here

The first time Spencer sees her in the lobby grabbing her mail he thinks he’s in a dream. Or maybe he’s seeing things. For a second he’s terrified that he’s having a hyper-realistic, yet somehow mundane, wet dream.

He’s been subscribed to her for a while. To be honest once he’d found her account he didn’t have much of a need to subscribe to anyone else. She was almost tailor made for him, it was sort of scary.

So when he saw her that day, and she smiled at him, giving him a small wave as she passed him in the hall, his heart all but stopped.

That night he checked her page. He compared the pictures of the sweet girl in the hall with the ones in front of him. The photos where she was wearing next to nothing, or sometimes nothing at all. The ones where she had her fingers inside of her panties, or her mouth.

He ended up spiraling that evening, partially forgetting why he was even looking in the first place. Until he was watching videos of her, fucking into herself with a toy until she was squirting onto her bedsheets.

The following morning when he woke up he tried to convince himself that it wasn’t her. How could it be? And if it was, would he have to stop looking? Something felt a bit perverted about that.

So he pushed the thoughts from his head. And that lasted all of 10 seconds because there was a knock on his front door. When he opened it up it was her standing there, the girl from the mailboxes, and the girl from the videos. He knew they were one and the same, who was he kidding?

“Hi!” She sticks out her hand to introduce herself, “I think I saw you the other day, I’ve just moved into the building, Y/N.”

He knows her name already, well he knows her first name, and part of him’s a little surprised it’s not fake.

He takes a moment to consider her hand, he wouldn’t usually shake a strangers hand like this but for some reason he didn’t feel like she was a stranger. The real reason her didn’t want to shake her hand was because of all the things he’d pictured her doing with them. Touching herself, touching him.

But he’s hesitated for too long, so he takes her hand, shaking it gently, “Spencer, Dr. Spencer Reid. Nice to— uh, meet you” he has to force his breaths out or they might not come. Looking at her up close, in person, she was too beautiful. And he already thought that about her pictures.

“Well it’s nice to meet you, I always like to know the folks in my building. And especially you if we’re gonna be neighbors”

“Neighbors?” He tries to stop his eyes from popping out of his head but she doesn’t seem to notice. She just nods happily.

“Yup, I’m right on the other side of that wall” she points to her right and giggles, “knock if you need me” she jokes but Spencer’s breathing stops entirely and he can only nod.

“So um, if you wanted to hang out or anything you know where to find me” she smiles at him and starts to head back to her apartment.

He’s not sure what’s come over him, but it feels like adrenaline is coursing through his entire body as he speaks.

“I’m free right now if you’re not busy?” He asks before she can get too far away but she shakes her head.

“I’ve actually gotta head out for a bit but if you’re free tomorrow do you wanna come over and see my place. I’m sure it’s probably the exact same as yours but—”

“Yes!— I mean, um, yeah, that sounds nice, cool” she laughs at him a little, probably at his eagerness, or maybe at the way he’s blushing, he can feel the heat radiating from his cheeks.

“See you then Spencer, Dr. Spencer Reid” she giggles and he’s smitten already.

— —

He’s pretty much counting down the seconds until the following evening. His mind is completely restless, he’s got no idea what to wear or how to act, or what to say.

She was just so pretty, he could barely have a 2 minute conversation with her in the hallway. How was he supposed to hang out with her for an evening.

She slips a note under his door the following afternoon:

I’m on my way out but I should be back around 8! See you then x

He wishes he didn’t stare at the little ‘x’ on the note for quite so long but he couldn’t help it. Even her handwriting was cute.

He doesn’t want to think about why he knows her already but he can’t help it. He decides that he’s not going to look at her page again, taking a cold shower as part of his preparation for that evening before agonizing over what to wear.

He settles on a purple sweater and he already feels like he’s made the wrong call somehow as he’s knocking on her door at 8pm on the dot.

“Well aren’t you punctual” she smiles at him as she pulls open the door. His stomach drops when he realizes that he recognizes the little dress she’s wearing. He’s seen her take it off before. He tries to steady his breathing but it doesn’t work super well so he just waves hello as she ushers him inside.

“I guess you got my note then” she smiles and he smiles back.

“Yeah, your— um— handwriting is really nice” he wants to slap himself in the face. What kind of complement was that?

“Thank you?” she giggles at him, “no ones ever said that before, you’re a bit of an oddball” she points him to the sofa so he sits.

When she comes to sit next to him she’s holding a bottle of wine and two glasses and he has to stop his eyes from bulging out of his head.

“Would you like a glass?” She asks and he nods his head, it probably wasn’t a great idea, but neither was any of this. She hands him a glass of wine and takes the seat next to him on the couch, turning to face him as she tucks her legs up under herself.

“So Spencer Reid, what kind of doctor are you?” she asks as she takes a sip from her own glass.

“I’m—um— I work at the FBI actually, I— I’m a profiler” he’s already conscious that he doesn’t want to bore her by harping on about work, or by rambling like he does right before people usually roll their eyes. But she doesn’t, she leans in.

“That’s so cool, well it sounds like it is anyway? Does that mean you read people or something?” her eyes look like they're after lighting up and she's smiling at him encouraging.

“Y-Yeah? It’s sort of like reading people I guess. We catch killers by getting inside their heads in a way, trying to figure out why they’re doing what they’re doing, and hopefully what they’re gonna do next so that we can stop it. It’s a little more complicated than that, but that’s the gist” he’s smiling now too, the way she’s looking at him makes him feel like he’s actually doing a sort of good job not embarrassing himself.

“So you said my handwriting was nice” she says, gears clearly turning, “Can you read anything about me from that?” she looks like she's challenging him, if he didn’t know better he might call it flirting.

“Well actually graphology—sorry— handwriting analysis has been deemed a pseudoscience by most, the validity of handwriting as evidence in court has always been dubious and many of the techniques used today are the same as those employed in Renaissance England.” he rambles but she’s still engaged when he stops speaking.

“So you’re smart smart, huh?” she smiles at him, and he nods.

“I don’t believe intelligence can be neatly quantified but I do have an IQ of 187” he feels paradoxically stupid saying that, it feels like bragging or something and he already wants to take it back.

“Wow, a doctor with an IQ of 187” she takes a second to mull it over, “What are you doing hanging out with the likes of me?” she jokes, but his eyebrows knit together, he had no idea what she did, other than that thing he knew she did.

“I wouldn't sell yourself short like that, what do you do?” he asks her, at the very least it’ll stop him from spiraling.

“I work in a vintage bookstore, the one two blocks over?” She motions behind her as she tells him, and he knows it well, in fact he spends so much time there that he’s shocked he’d never seen her before.

“You work there? I’m there all the time, how have I never noticed you before?” she chuckles at him.

“I’ve only just started, I just moved in, remember?” and he wants to slap himself again, something about being around such a pretty face slashed that impressive IQ in half.

They spend another while and the rest of the bottle of wine getting to know each other before Spencer has to call it a night. Part of him wished that she was boring, or rude, or hated him, then maybe he’d be able to quell his infatuation. But this just made it worse, now that he knew her, now that he had spoken to her and she was so sweet, so smart, so funny, and still so damn pretty. He was absolutely fucked.

— —

He swears to himself that the wont look at her page again. Now that he knew her and he liked her more than he even did before, it felt like a real invasion. Part of him still felt bad about it in general, like he should've told her right away, been up front. But the moment for that had already passed so this was his next best plan.

Until he returns home the following Friday. He’s exhausted when he crawls into bed but he’s still somehow restless, the gears still turning in is brain. So he does what he always does when he wants to forget about everything else in the world.

His muscle memory opens it up, and he’s on her page before he even realizes he's done it. And she’s posted a few new videos this week. He wishes he had better willpower, or any willpower at all, but he can’t seem to stop himself from clicking on one.

It begins with her kneeling on her bed, wearing lingerie he’d seen before, it was baby pink and it was one of his favorites. She starts by dipping her fingers into her panties, teasing herself as little moans toppled from her lips. Then she started talking.

“I’m gonna tell you guys about a little dream I had last night, well, I’ve been having it all week really” she continues to tease herself a little, her other hand coming up to grab her breast over her soft pink bra as she speaks. Her voice is smooth and perfect, if he only had the audio he’d still be turned on right now.

“It goes like this. I’m lying in this bed right here, doing something a little like this, when there’s a knock at my front door. When I get up to answer it he’s there, with his shaggy brown hair, and his huge doe eyes, and he’s got these lips that are just so fuckin’ pink. I want them all over me. He comes inside and he grabs me with those huge hands of his and he pulls me right into him before he kisses me.” she moans a little as her fingers brush right up against her clit, but Spencer’s vision has almost gone blurry.

He’s not sure he’s even breathing when she starts talking again. “Then I lead him to my bedroom, and I get him out of those clothes. He dresses like an english teacher and I wish I didn’t find it so fuckin’ hot. Sometimes in the fantasy I take his cock in my mouth, I suck him off until he’s whimpering. Other times I can’t wait, I just need him to fuck me right away.” she takes off her panties then, leaving them to one side, while she grabs a toy from her bedside table.

“I like to fuck myself with this, but all week I’ve just been imagining that it’s him. He’s just so pretty, I know his cock has to be too. I want to know what it feels like when he’s buried inside me, so fuckin’ deep” she continues to fuck herself with the toy, and he’s tuned back in now, he’s achingly hard without even noticing, his hand wrapping around his cock as he pictures the other side of that fantasy.

It doesn’t take long before he's releasing, spilling all over his hand in tandem with the video. She takes a moment to relax, steadying out her breathing before she speaks to the camera again.

“I think I have a crush guys” she gasps out, “I moved, and I think I’ve got a crush on my fuckin’ neighbor already”

Not that he needed any more confirmation, but those words hit him like a fucking train.

It’s already midnight, it’s not so late that he couldn’t go over there, but it sort of is late enough that he shouldn’t. He really can’t bring himself to care though, getting out of bed and cleaning himself up he decides to ride this uncharacteristically confident wave as far as it’ll take him.

He’s knocking on her door before he’s had a chance to second guess himself. When she answers she’s in a little robe, it’s ivory and satin, and he recognizes it too. He doesn’t say anything, neither does she. They just look at each other for a little too long, eyes taking each other in. He wants to lean in and kiss her, just like in her fantasy, but he’s not that guy.

“Hi” he breathes out instead, “I know it’s late, sorry, I shouldn’t be here—but I— I just wanna say” he pauses to take in a labored breath, “I like you a lot and I think you’re really pretty and funny and smart and would you wanna go out sometime? With me? Maybe?” he doesn't realize he’s closed this eyes until he’s got to pry them back open.

“Well that’s not how the fantasy was supposed to go” she giggles, her eyelashes fluttering as she looks up at him and the blush that’s steadily spreading up his face and neck.

“What do you— I don’t— what?” he’s stammering, doing a god awful job of playing dumb.

“In my video, you were just supposed to kiss me. This isn’t as sexy but it is a hell of a lot better”

“I don’t— I’m not—” he can’t get a sentence out, he’s got no idea what’s happening right now.

“It’s alright Dr. 187, I know it’s you” some part of him genuinely wants to throw up. Why did he think that would be an innocuous username. He was the stupidest genius alive.

“I’m sorry, I should've told you. I had no idea how, I just never thought— how could I have known you’d move in next door to me? And that you’d be even prettier in person but you’d be so cool too” he’s got to cut himself off before he really starts apologetically rambling.

“Spencer stop. It’s fine. I make that content for people to enjoy, you’ve got nothing to feel guilty about. I made that video because I wanted you to see it, that was intentional.” she reaches out and places a hand on his shoulder, and it’s more comforting than it has any right to be.

“Was that—your fantasy—the uh the video—were you telling the truth?” he can feel his heart absolutely racing in his chest as he waits for the answer. And she breaks out in a huge smile, nodding up at him.

“Every word.” he doesn’t let himself overthink it this time, he just leans right in, pressing his lips to hers. It’s soft and gentle, a sweet kiss rather than a heated one, it’s not just infatuation, there are feelings behind it now. He can feel her lips smiling against his own and his heart’s fit to burst now.

When they break apart she looks giddy with excitement, her hands come down to the little bow that holds her robe closed, toying with the ends of the tie. “I’m actually about to make a video now if you’d like to see behind the scenes?” she asks and his breath gets stuck in his throat.

“Fuck” he rasps, “You’ve got no idea how much I want to do that” he pauses, scolding himself in his head already, “But I think I wanna take you to dinner first, if you still want that?”

She’s grinning at him again, “I still really want that, tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night.”

-- --

Comments, reblogs, and tags are always appreciated, I love you all x

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Read Part 2 Here

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[w00wzerz]

~ Titans Reunited ~ 💫

(All that matters in Titans S3 ep 13 finale)

🚨Beware! Rant + Analysis below!🚨

This final episode was a ride that I’m glad I could hop off of until season 4. In all honesty I felt that there were so many missing pieces that I’d hoped would somehow come together in the end, but clearly the show runners had a different idea. Now to be fair there were some highlights that moved me to the core, so without any delay, lets get to it!

For starters, when we are presented the display of Rachel and Gar genuinely happy to meet up with Donna, the entire room could hear my little sobs. However, this trope is one in particular that I believe the writers have battled with. 

The characters should be allowed to express their emotionality, in fact their vulnerability allows for the audience to build a stronger connection to them, thus increasing their popularity amongst the fandom. Yet, we got to see little to no real reuniting with the team because of the non chronological scene cuts. But I digress…

Moving on to Kory being fed up with the constant disrespect from the team. Now although I loved her out pour of emotions, this scene was not only completely unnecessary, but I saw absolutely no use for it non whatsoever. Now let me explain why:

Sure, Conner destroyed Kom’s ship which was her only way back home to Tamaran, but why is she so chill about it? Why was Kory more upset about Conner’s selfishness then Kom, who according to common belief was SUPPOSED to be the villain this season? And let’s not forget that even after all of this they were still able to rebuild the ship a few minutes later… So what was the point again???

——————————————————————————

Speaking of disrespect, I have to discuss Dick’s blatant disrespect for Kory AGAIN in the scene below. This is another problem with the writing room seeing that there are barely any consistencies within the story! Even after he saw his child with this woman in last weeks episode, why is he now so comfortably hollering at her? Many argue that it was probably the stress that factored in to his behavior, but I call BS.

S1 Kory would have wasted absolutely no time putting him in his place and telling him off. This is the issue that I have with the unnecessary reconstruction of Kory’s character and storyline. Just look at the blue bolts. I can’t even fathom. The SFX was pretty cool though.

Then we have same old Dick being selfish and proving yet AGAIN that he is not fit to lead the Titans. I also have a bone to pick with this scene as well seeing that - Gar’s reaction to Jason had to be the most underwhelming one yet. It makes no sense, Gar went out on a manhunt for Jason, he knew that the murderous Redhood was not the person he wanted to be and still… chileeee let me move along.

I also understand that Tim is eager to become the next Robin, but why would Dick endanger his life by bringing him along on a mission with the knowledge that he has little to no experience in combat?

Then there’s another scene cut and Bruce is back in Gotham, to meet up with Dick and Jason and talk about who knows what. The only thing that I took away from this was that there will be no-more Red hood for now. This is a bittersweet feeling, but it had to be done… For the greater good. 🥴

Let’s talk about Dick’s community penis. He is in the business of wanting his cake to eat it too because why would he ask Barbara to accompany him back to San Fran with the team? AS IF HE DIDN’T JUST PICTURE HIS DAUGHTER WITH KORY?!?! I was ready to fight multiple people after this.

And alas we have finally reached the heartwarming portion of the episode, I was so happy to see domestic Dick Grayson back on my screen. This was literally all we have asked for from the beginning!

I definitely enjoyed the farewell hugs between Kory and Donna, it was so refreshing to see those two back together. I will not mention the wasted potential that was Conner and especially Kom.

I also have so many questions… Why did Donna return, setting the stage to become the new leader of Titans, only to leave right after reuniting with the team? And how is Tim going to be Robin without Batman? Why is Kom NICE! Um… And they just are not going to address Dick’s outburst earlier, ok.

But anyways, peep his hungry eyes for his future wife 🧐 she deserves better.

In all, the finale did not provide as much closure as I had hoped, I would’ve loved to see more family interactions between all of them, but thats exactly what season 4 is for! I am hopeful that Kory’s story will be properly developed and considering that the writers room are constantly on Twitter reading through the drags, I’d say they will be taking notes.

It’s been fun, see you all next season! 💜✨

[thewhitejournal]

“Just One More Night” Part Two

Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader Series

hi everyone! i really hope you enjoy part two, it’s kind of lengthy i’ll admit. i’m having so much fun with this series so far and i wanna thank y’all for being along on the ride. y’all are the best 🤍

without further ado, onto the story!

content warnings: cursing, heated making out, mentions of pain

-

Four months later...

The first of many alarms on your phone woke you from your sleep with a small jolt. Today was the day; the day you’d worked towards for four years. Graduation day. Your brain was already buzzing despite only being awake for several seconds. Your fingers clicked the power button on your phone like muscle memory, silencing the alarm.

Just as almost every morning, there was one person on your mind: Aaron Hotchner. It had been four months since you had sex with him for the first time, and you’d been meeting up almost every week unless schedules conflicted. You wouldn’t meet if he was in a different state for the weekend, solving a crime. Turns out, he was a government employee; he was Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. You didn’t know much else about him, and he didn’t know a whole lot about you either. It was a relationship - could you even call it that? - strictly for sex. No strings or feelings attached.

Except there was one problem; your dumbass had caught feelings. That was the deal from day one. You both decided it would be strictly fucking, nothing else. But hell if you didn’t defy the rules. How could you obey them, anyway, with him? Sure, you didn’t know a lot about him, but you didn’t need to. You fell in love with the way he treated you and the soft, ginger touches and kisses he gave you. Unless, of course, he’d had a bad week. It was a different story, then.

You still slept in his jacket, almost every night. It was your comfort item. It had lost his smell by now, but you loved it for more than just the fact that it used to smell like him. It reminded you of the best man you’d ever met; he treated you like nobody else ever did, in so many ways.

But a real relationship was strictly forbidden; even though his friends from that night (who you now knew as his coworkers) knew about you, they were under the impression that it was a one-night-stand. Your friends thought the same thing. Of course, they were suspicious, but per Aaron’s rules, you never admitted it.

He’d gotten a lot more personal since the first night, crossing his own boundaries about personal lives and knowledge of each other. Not that you minded that in the least.

Your phone buzzed on your nightstand. It was a text message. You picked it up and clicked the power button.

A.H. : Happy graduation day. Congratulations.

A small smile fell on your lips. You left it, for the time being, checking your other notifications. Your friends mentioned getting breakfast before rehearsal for the following evening, so you agreed. Rachel was already awake and in the shower, which surprised you. Usually, it was her that slept in. Seconds later, you heard her get out and she walked into the room you shared of your tiny new apartment.

“It’s alive! Did you see Lexi’s text about breakfast?” She was butt-ass naked, drying her hair with a towel, strutting over to her bed and pulling her clothes on. Of course, this was the norm between the two of you; you were convinced she’d somehow seen more of you than Aaron had. You didn’t bat an eyelash at your best friend’s nudity anymore.

“Yeah, I’m gonna shower real quick.” You rolled out of bed and hopped in the shower, letting the water wash the sleep from your eyes. You took in your bare skin, admiring the hickeys on your breasts; the coloring on the bruises were from all stages of healing, along with a bite mark here and there. Like you’d said, a rough week meant rougher...well, you get the idea.

You traced your fingers over the bruises and the faint teeth impressions that marked your body, memories flooding your mind. A smirk graced your lips as you remembered every night associated with each mark. A thought crossed your mind, one that you were grateful for: Aaron was always careful to leave a mark where it could be hidden with clothes. You’d need that today. You went through your shower routine as quickly as possible, finishing when Rachel was drying her hair in the bathroom with you.

You pulled the curtain open, trying to grab your towel before Rachel saw the newest marks on your body, but it was too late. She caught your eye in the mirror, her jaw dropping. She flicked the hairdryer off and turned on her heel to face you.

“Are those new?” Disbelief sounded in her tone. You just rolled your eyes and smiled, shrugging at her. She gasped.

“When did you have time to…?”

“We have a schedule.”

The two of you shared a laugh and she congratulated you for finally getting laid like she said you needed to when you were too stressed about school. It turns out, she wasn’t entirely wrong. Not only did you enjoy the sex, but the man you were having it with helped you to feel relaxed, not to mention he treated you like royalty.

Within half an hour, you and Rachel were out the door and headed to a café to meet the other girls for breakfast. Your sundress blustered around in the wind, the temperature surprisingly comfortable for being under the sun at almost it’s highest point.

You held the door open for Rach, following in behind her. The girls were sitting at a table in the corner of the room and you filled the last two seats. The waitress came up and took your and Rachel’s orders, then left to put them in. Your eyes scanned the café, as they usually do in any slightly unfamiliar place.

Your eyes landed on a table with two seats across the room, one occupied by a man that you thought looked familiar. Your eyebrows knit together as you tried to figure it out to yourself, sipping your coffee and keeping up with the banter at the table in the meantime.

Then, it hit you: it was the older man from the bar, the first night you met Aaron. And he wasn’t alone. Across from him sat the skinny one, a portable chess table in between the two of them. The older man chuckled as the kid beat him for likely the millionth time this morning. Suddenly, he got a phone call. You watched him mouth Aaron’s name, and then something that looked like ‘what’s wrong?’. He told him he’d be there soon, and the two men stood quickly from their seats, rushing towards the door. But before they left, the kid caught your eye. You averted your gaze as quickly as you could, as to not be noticed.

“Where’s the fire, boys?”, Rachel muttered in your ear next to you, laughing. You chuckled in return to avoid suspicion. Little did she know, there was likely a heinous crime that the BAU had just found out about and they’d been called in. That means you were probably not on for this weekend, and it bummed you out. It was the second weekend in a row you couldn’t see Aaron, and you were starting to miss him. The sex was amazing, of course, but you missed his company too. His smell, his face, his lips...

You’d replied to Aaron’s text from earlier on your way here, but a new one just came in. You checked your phone inconspicuously; it helped that you didn’t put his full name as his contact, just in case someone looked over your shoulder, which was likely with Rachel at your side.

A.H.: This weekend’s not looking good again. I’m sorry, (Y/N). I’ll make it up to you, I promise.

You sighed, knowing this text was soon to come at some point today. You started drafting a response under the table.

‘Don’t worry about it. It’s your job, Aaron. Be careful, I love-‘

Oh, fuck. You’d been denying it for so long now and you almost blew your cover. The recurring fear that he had to already have known because he was a profiler crept back into your mind. But you just couldn’t help it, you’d never had a connection like this with anyone. Your heart ached at the thought of not seeing him again.

‘Don’t worry about it. It’s your job, Aaron. Be careful, text me when you can.’

Better. You watched the blue bar across the top of your screen zoom from left to right as the message sent. You clicked your phone off, returning your attention to the table. Your friend Lexi seemed to notice your change in emotion and gave you a small, empathetic look from across the table. She was the only one you were honest with about how you really felt about Aaron. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk about it to anyone else, you were just closest with her and she was your most empathetic friend.

Your phone buzzed in your lap again.

A.H.: You know I will, (Y/N).

You imagined him saying it to you in a reassuring tone and it warmed your heart. Fuck, you missed him. And you loved him. It wasn’t something you could deny anymore. Suddenly you wanted to run around the city and scream at the top of your lungs about how much you loved Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner.

Several hours later, you were getting ready to go out the door, putting the final touches on your outfit. Rachel came up beside you in the mirror, tilting your cap and running her fingers through the tassels until they hung straight. She smiled at you, and you smiled back. “We did it, (Y/N/N).”, she said, wrapping an arm around you. You hugged her back, trying not to cry.

You were sitting in the stadium, about to walk across the stage. You really wished Aaron could be here, as silly as it was. You knew he’d never do that, likely easily recognized in public and you two couldn’t be seen together. After the ceremony, you met up with your friends outside and started celebrating as much as you could in the parking lot. You were taking selfies and now, trying to figure out how to take a group picture with no one to take it. You tried propping the phone up on the hood of your car but the angle wasn’t right.

“Want me to take the picture for you, ladies?” A voice rang out from behind you. Your body was frozen in its place. Right away, you knew who it belonged to. You’d heard it almost every weekend, whispering in your ear, moaning your name, telling you to beg…

Hesitantly, you turned around. Your friends were already facing him, Rachel with a look on her face that could only be described as shocked. There Aaron stood, hands in the pockets of his suit jacket, a sly smile painted on his lips.

“Aaron, what’re you doing here?”, you asked him quietly, in complete disbelief. Your friends watched the exchange like it was a hit blockbuster movie.

“I couldn’t miss my girl’s graduation. I told the team we’d wait until tonight to leave.” A warm feeling washed over your body at his words. You tried suppressing a smile, but it weaseled its way out. You smiled so big you thought your cheeks would rip. He returned one, striding over to you. Your heart pounded against your ribs, waiting to see what he’d do next.

He stepped into your personal space, taking your face in both of his huge and calloused hands, planting a kiss on your lips. Your friends gasped and cheered and all things alike, but you weren’t paying attention to them. Your hands rested lightly on Aaron’s dress shirt and you kissed him back with all the love and passion that had been bubbling up inside you over the past two weeks. He pulled away too soon, a hand dropping from your cheek. His thumb stroked your skin, his soft brown eyes gazing down on you. He placed a kiss on your forehead, and you just rested your head against his. So many things were being said between the two of you, and yet not a single word left your lips.

“Okay lovebirds, we don’t have all day.”, Rachel remarked playfully. You weren’t looking at her, but you could imagine the smirk on her face right now. You rolled your eyes internally, a smile showing itself on your lips. You pulled back from him, interlacing your fingers with his as you stood by his side. She suddenly held up her phone, telling the two of you to pose.

You were afraid Aaron wouldn’t have wanted to take a picture with you, but he pulled you into him without hesitation, wrapping an arm around you. Your arms wrapped around him and you flashed a toothy smile at the camera. Rachel smiled from behind the phone, genuinely happy to see you feeling the same way.

Aaron took every picture you wanted without complaining once, and your friends went their separate ways, leaving you and Aaron alone. You two were sitting in his SUV outside of his place, making out in his backseat. You were straddling him, fingers running through his black hair.

His lips trailed kisses down your neck, the strap of your dress being pulled ever so gently from your shoulder. You smiled as his lips travelled lower, leaving marks in between your breasts. A small moan slipped from your lips, the grip from his hand tightening on your hip. Suddenly, his phone started ringing, and he groaned, resting his head on your chest. You chuckled.

“You gonna get that, Aaron?”, you asked him slyly. He picked it up, looking at the screen. His lips tightened into a straight line, mouthing an apology before answering.

“Hotch.”, he said matter-of-factly into the speaker. Someone was speaking on the other end, but you couldn’t quite make out what they were saying or who it was.

“Yeah, I lost track of time, I’m on my way.” He hung up the phone and you frowned at him. He sighed, pulling you flush to his chest. “I wish I didn’t have to leave. I’m sorry, (Y/N).” His face donned a sad look.

“Aaron, like I said, you can’t help it. Go kick some ass and then bring yours back to me so I can tell you how hot it is.” A smirk painted itself on your lips and he chuckled deeply.

“You’re so funny, I love you.” It all came out of his mouth in a rush, like you’d said it to each other a million times, but it was quite the opposite. Your eyes grew wide, as did his, realizing what he’d said.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry, I-'', he stuttered. He stopped talking when you cradled his face, your thumb running along his cheekbone.

“Don’t…”, you whispered, kissing his lips softly. You could feel him relax against you, a sigh escaping him as he kissed you back. You pulled back from him, looking into his eyes and searching his face. “I love you too, Aaron. I have ever since I saw you that first night.”, you confessed. He smiled softly.

“So have I.”

The drive back to your apartment complex was silent, but the air between the two of you was buzzing with a loving and happy energy, and you couldn’t be more grateful for him. He parked in front of the building, looking over at you, his gaze softening in the dim light from the stereo. You laughed nervously, asking him what he was looking at.

“I just love you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”, he said with a huge smile on his face. You mirrored his expression, resting your hand on his cheek.

“And I love you, Aaron Hotchner.” You two shared a kiss before you went inside; he sat in his car and made sure you got into the door before peeling off into the night.

You leaned on the door to find the key on your key ring, only to find the door ajar. Your forehead creased as you wracked your brain, trying to remember if you locked the door before you left or if Rachel was supposed to be back already. A bad feeling started festering inside of you.

The thought crossed your mind to call Aaron; you felt it was the most rational thing to do at the moment. Your heartbeat loudly in your chest and your palms started sweating. Something was wrong. You pulled your phone from your purse and almost hit the dial button, but suddenly you hit the floor, a pain surging from the back of your head and into the rest of your body. Your vision was blurry, and you couldn’t hold your eyes open. Your body felt weak, and you felt like you were lifted in the air and tossed over someone’s shoulder.

Your eyes fluttered shut, the pain being too much to take. That was when you slipped into unconsciousness.

taglist:

@andromedasstarship

@mac99martin

@laycblack

@art-and-thoughts

@bellamy1998

[atalana]

[copied over from my cr blog, also this is gonna get long, i’d apologise but im not sorry]

okay, so

this is a rant probably about 7 years in the making, bc when i first watched lok i had not done any music study, i had not done any composing of my own, my knowledge of music theory was at a primary school level and i still thought tv soundtracks were just made by one person composing a whole cache of music and then the audio editors pick and choose what track to place where

(spoiler alert that’s not how film and tv scoring works, i have now done a music composition course where we had to score a short film, among other things, and i have so much more respect for tv composers jesus christ)

but this one stuck out to me even way back then, bc me barely knowing what a leitmotif was was like “hey this one little refrain keeps popping up whenever bolin does lavabending, and i like it, i’m gonna see if it’s on the soundtrack”

it was not, and that’s sort of where i left it back in 2014, but i actually did a rewatch of lok pretty recently out of nostalgia, and then noticed it even more

and to explain why (and this is also a little bit why five’s stuck out to me in tua, i’ll get to that in another ask), let’s cover, leitmotifs, and tv scoring in general

so a leitmotif is basically just a short musical idea that represents something in a piece of music. when i studied motivic development we were encouraged to make that motif four notes or less, and then develop it into something longer (aka a theme), because if you can constantly come back to a really short idea while keeping the piece moving, that’s what makes a piece of music memorable

(you can ignore those rules on purpose but that’s a different essay)

so the most common way that a leitmotif shows up in soundtracks is to represent a character or a location - you play the motif when that character shows up or when you’re in that location and boom, the audience associates that motif with that person place or thing, and you can then use this to tell the audience things without actually telling them. for example, star wars playing the imperial march whenever someone does something darth vader related - darth vader isn’t on screen, but you can feel his presence, because his music is playing

and if we were a film score, where we have two hours to show one particular character’s development, great! we give them a simple motif, and then as they grow as a person we change their motif to reflect what is happening to them, until we end up with something that communicates on a subconscious level how much they’ve grown. we toss in as much symbolism as we can, and we have a really great soundtrack that’s instantly memorable

tv scoring, is harder. partially because of time constraints (have you ever composed half an hour of original music a week, and had to make sure it fits perfectly with every beat of what’s happening on screen? these guys have), partially because there’s a much larger focus on ensemble casts

so what atla and lok do, for the most part, is not score individual character motifs for everyone. this is fairly common in tv soundtracks, instead we score ideas, concepts, and feelings - these’ll come up a lot more and give you more information than just “oh hey this character’s on screen”

the avatar state, for example, has the strongest and most recognisable theme across both shows. i’m linking an atla track in here because it has the best example but you’ll know this shows up with korra too - and with particularly important moments for wan, for kyoshi, etc. they also appear in the opening of both shows, four strong notes that start and end on the same note (in the case of what i’m linking, it’s an F#)

the first part of this track is the more uncertain, pensive theme that comes up when both avatars are feeling doubt/worry/sadness, but then it transitions into the more recognisable four. worth noting though, those are both basically the same motif. if i write them out back to back, you’ll notice they both have four notes and start and end on F#. if i had to guess, four notes four elements, and it comes back to the start because the avatar is a cycle.

korra has a theme for when she’s fighting, but not an individual character theme. the airbenders as a concept have a theme, republic city has thematic instruments, as do some big name characters, like iroh and his tsungi horn (this is also a cross-series thing, he’s always playing it in atla, it shows up when zuko has to make big moral decisions, and when we first meet iroh in the spirit world in lok, it shows up there too, to let the audience know who this is before we properly see him)

so, if korra doesn’t get a single theme and instead has several for different aspects of her life, and mako and asami follow along with the mood of the story like all the other characters, the fact that bolin has a personal leitmotif at all, let alone a solid, developing one, is pretty remarkable!

now, granted, it mostly starts with book 3, before then he was like every other character, but it has clear symbolism through those last two books! and, initially i thought it was related only to his lavabending, since that’s most of when it shows up, but since my rewatch, i’ve started calling it his hero theme

see, when people wanna criticise mako and bolin, usually the comments they get are that bolin’s too immature and mako’s too serious/uptight. but like, that’s how they work, you can’t analyse either of them without the context of the other. since they were little kids on the streets, bolin chases his heart and mako makes sure they don’t die from it, that is their entire childhood. and neither would have got here on their own because mako wouldn’t take the necessary risks and bolin wouldn’t take the necessary precautions. (like. remove either one from the equation and they’d still be working for the triple threats bc s1 and their flashback miniseries make pretty clear that bolin got them out and mako kept them out)

and then book 2 proves it! because it splits team avatar up, and what happens? bolin is totally taken advantage of by varrick and used as a pawn in his evil plan and mako ends up in jail

so what’s book 3, to them? it’s, being able to find themselves without having that codependency. mako no longer has someone to protect, which is what he’s based his whole life around so far - bolin’s doing fine and he’s no longer dating either korra or asami. and bolin’s trying his hand at some of that responsibility (look at how he immediately adopts kai who is explicitly them but younger because he wants to be the older brother for once). most importantly, they find the rest of their family, and stop being defined by being orphans. they don’t have to be that singular piece of a puzzle, they can just be themselves. and that’s where bolin’s character really starts to shine, because that’s when they bring in the bending plot, and bending, perhaps more than any other character, really gets to the heart of who bolin is

if you want more of my thoughts on that i have an essay here, but tl;dr: bolin’s an extremely powerful earthbender, but he’s not a metalbender because metalbending requires you to double down on the earth characteristics and think like an earthbender, and bolin doesn’t, he’s too fluid for that, which is one of his major strengths, so of course he can lavabend

and finally - to his motif itself! (as a note, i’ve put all of these in the same key to show where it repeats, but there’s a variety of keys used in the show)

as far as i can find, it first shows up in s3e8, when bolin stuns p’li with this well placed shot

[Edit: it first showed up in the s2 finale, but again in a simplified version and again with him doing something heroic with earthbending, so we can still start the analysis here]

mako volunteers bolin for that job, because he knew bolin was capable of it. why? because bolin landed an identical shot earlier in the episode, after trying to metalbend, getting frustrated he can’t, and cheating with some extremely well aimed earthbending. it’s just a short refrain and you barely notice it, but it’s the first connection of this motif with the theme of bolin’s bending

it looks like this, and it’s always played on a trumpet, which is part of why i call it the hero theme, because, if you’re looking at music from a western perspective, trumpets were used to herald kings, and then used to represent military glory, and then when superhero themes started happening, they used trumpets too - it’s basically western music shorthand for hero these days

(it’s also symmetrical so that helps with the good vibes)

and he’s saving everyone here, so it’s linked to his bending, but it’s also linked to his heroism

it ties the two together, and they are tied together.

when’s the next time it shows up? episode 10, when the brothers are in prison in ba sing se, and bolin tries to metalbend them out. again, he’s doing this to save people, and this motif gets a few notes added on to the end in a raising pattern - they’re inspiring, but they don’t go anywhere. which is exactly what happens in the scene, because he’s trying to go about this in the wrong way. mako believes in him, but it won’t (and doesn’t) work

it appears in episode 12 when bolin saves everyone from ghazan destroying the temple, in a more fancy orchestral remake of the first version - it’s impressive, but it hasn’t actually developed yet, it’s just his discovery of it

the book 3 finale already has its own fucking amazing soundtrack, i love that entire episode’s score, but it gets its own moment there too, and the first real development!

because what we hear is not what we’ve heard before. we know it’s the same theme, because it’s using those signature trumpets, but it’s the second part of this phrase, the answer to the question supplied by the first one. why? because bolin’s figured out who he is and he’s starting to use it. it still hasn’t settled yet though, it’s early days and he’s still just turning ghazan’s lava back on him, so again, it raises, leaving it on a question mark

it doesn’t appear in s4e7 when he lavabends as a warning against the escaped prisoners, because he’s using it as a threat, not to help people. but it does later in the episode when he uses lavabending to save them from kuvira. and that’s when we get the first full phrase, question and answer

it keeps the first motif identical, takes out the first note of the second, and ties them together - except now it’s not open ended, now it knows where it’s going - it’s been three years, at this point bolin is confident in both himself and his bending

and then that phrase appears all over the place in the finale, because all bolin does is save people - everyone from the exploding building, he slows the giant mecha with lavabending, he saves opal, he slows the giant mecha again by collapsing a building on it, and most importantly, he’s the one rescuing his brother this time, instead of the other way around (though that one doesn’t get a motif appearance bc admittedly a fuck ton of other things are happening in the soundtrack at the time)

so to that question asked in book three - who is bolin when not next to someone else? well, funnily enough, we saw it in book two as well, just in a warped way, playing nuktuk. it just wasn’t truly him because it was created by varrick, and he needed to get away from varrick too. the question put forward by the narrative is who is bolin, and the answer given by the music is, he is a hero. and i don’t know why bolin is the only one to get a theme like this, but i think it may have something to do with the fact that, while everyone in team avatar has been a hero and saved people, he is the only one who has, from the start, solely been motivated by wanting to help people. he follows his heart, and his heart cares, about everyone. it’s been the driving force behind almost everything he’s ever done. and i love him so much

[quirkless-and-proud]

Vigilante Au

Mido finds aizawa in the middle of a fight in an alley and then there’s a gunshot and eraser is down and the villains escape,

when mido approaches him he assumes he’s another vigilante and cuts his hand on the approach, a sign from one vigilante to another that they are not pros, (willing to make one’s self vulnerable to gain trust from someone already hurt and bring yourself to that level)

when he gets close enough, he sees the goggles and realizes this is a pro, and before eraser passes out he grabs him by the arm and says he can’t be taken to a hospital - there is a mole in the police force

when eraser next wakes up he’s in an apartment, completely bare with dressings on his gunshot wound as well as the other damage he sustained

now that he’s more lucid, eraser realizes he’s hooked up to an iv and he can’t feel the gunshot as well as he’d be able to if he wasn’t on some sort of pain meds

conversation is stilted and mido asks what is going to happen next, since he won’t be on his feet for another 2 weeks without quirk healing

eraser asks about the bullet and the kid shrugs and says it’s not the first time he’s had to deal with one and as for the medical equipment, he has some friends who are willing to supply medium grade med supplies on the down low

eraser wants to ask where they are, where the kids parents are and a multitude of other things but realizes that he’s going to have to rely on this kid until he’s on his feet

over the course of those two weeks eraser notices two distinct things, one, that other vigilantes drop in with information, food, money, or a multitude of other things and receive medical care in return

and two, that children or other random adults with serious injuries turn up for medical care as well, the children usually crying and the adults not, they all wear the same shoes as mido tho, so he wonders how they’re all connected

essentially, the sludge villian incident was at the end of mido’s 2nd year of middle school and he was told off by all might, then over the summer he decided to become a vigilante, taking summer courses at a dojo that helped quirk less kids, his mom died at the beginning of the last year of middle school and between her life insurance and his dad’s payments for the apt, mido realized that he could keep the apt to himself so long as someone signed for him, so one of the vigilantes registered as his big brother and the two of them lived together until 2 months before eraser turned up because he died (way more emotional and spontaneous)

this was decided by a meeting of the vigilante “council” which is 15 different people who showed up at mido’s house after he took over for the brother that died before he met eraser it’s similar to pirates of the caribbean where it’s passed down verbally and with a token from the original 15

aizawa doesn’t want him putting himself in danger and mido flaps him off as best he can but also points out that he needs his help, he doesn’t have many choices and he is getting everyone personally

3 members of the council approach eraser w/out mido and tell eraser in no uncertain terms that if mido is hurt in any way he will be held personally responsible and that vigilantes rely on him for intel/analysis of villains and hero’s alike to avoid/help/capture and he has saved their lives both with the hospital and also with his mind. building up a network of safety took time and eraser has to realize how many lives he will put in danger if he tries to dismantle the network.

one of the 3 stays back and tells eraser she was mido’s brother’s first contact and longest friend, and that he asked her to watch after mido. she tells eraser she thinks mido could be a pro, that he might be the key to ending vigilantism but that he could revolutionize pro-hero work. the kid is wicked smart but she doesn’t want to see him become bitter and jaded.

this is something eraser has been thinking about non stop the whole time he’s been holed up here.

eraser asks her for a knife. it is the single request all vigilantes must obey, a sign of trust.

he cuts his palm and says he swears to try his best to take care of mido, as much as the boy will let him and that he will do everything in his power not to jeopardize or hurt him. “a vigilante adoption if you will”

and mido, this whole time. well. he’s still mido and there’s a lot of hero worship of eraser who fights essentially quirkless and has been respectful and kind to the quirkless kids and who has relied on and trusted him

and so 5 of the 15 vigilante council, including mido are to do a recon op of the police station and try to incriminate the mole based on plans eraser helped them lay out

it goes alright except mido breaks 2 ribs fighting someone and when he gets back eraser is able to stand and takes over his care as best he can and mido tells him he can go back to the police, the mole has been caught

eraser asks mido why he isn’t trying to become a pro

mido laughs and makes a broken noise and says a very reliable source told him he couldn’t be

and eraser says whoever it was was out of their goddamned mind, that they must have been blind and deaf to miss what was in front of their faces, he points out the illogic and that he fights quirkless and he points to everything mido had done in a little over a year, how fast and capable he is and the connections he has already and just, if eraser knew the kids from his classes would be half as good as mido eraser could retire because crime wouldn’t be a problem

and mido is crying and eraser asks him if he would go to ua, if he would let eraser work out a deal for him and recommend him

and mido says his money must go to the hospital, he can’t leave this place and he doesn’t have money to really go to school and his grades aren’t great (half on purpose lol)

and eraser says what he does with his money is his business as long as eraser can’t prove it and that getting a hero license would help him protect vigilantes and there would be some rules, like he wouldn’t be able to live on his own like this, but there are places eraser is willing to look away in the short term until they can figure out a real long term plan

and mido says he wouldn’t have anywhere to live that isn’t the hospital and eraser says kid if you think i’d do this for just a student, i mean i’d be a hell of a teacher but i’m only a decent one, that i already declared a vigilante adoption in front of that girl, unprompted, and that his husband and he had always considered fostering/adopting

and mido blurts out something that means he knows it’s present mic despite no formal paperwork saying that anywhere and eraser just fucking loses it and starts laughing like a madman because of course mido figured it out the kid is a genius

and yes, hizashi and i would fucking love you kid, like you deserve and you wouldn’t have to do all of this alone, and you wouldn’t have all this responsibility, you could give it to me and then, slowly as you become an adult we add it back without overwhelming you

and mido says to let him go to ground for 2 weeks - that eraser has to give him time to sort a few things out, largely to protect everyone at the hospital and get word out to the quirkless kids and eraser says okay

and in 2 weeks eraser has talked to nezu and they have a plan and a police deal and mido walks up to the gates of ua all by himself with a backpack that has notebooks and clothes but nothing else (he ran everyone to ground, moved the hospital and sorted out the money problem with that girl) and now he’s standing in front of eraserhead turning himself in

my name is midoriya izuku, you know me as mido and i am here to turn myself in

nezu regards him with a glint in his eyes and eraser just rolls his eyes and hugs the kid telling him he has done a good job and that he’ll take it from here

———

this is a really lost outline for a fic that i would love if someone else wrote lol

sorry about caps and stuff, this is really just for the notes section on my phone so hope you like it

[btsmosphere]

Crossfire | KTH

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Moodboard Masterlist

~summary: The night your life blew up sent you on a collision course with the campus bad boy, Kim Taehyung. Though you were well aware of his reputation, it was his doorstep you ran to when you were bleeding with nowhere to go.

~word count: 5k

~gang!au, mafia!au, college!au, angst, fluff, action, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers

Warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating (warnings apply to each part individually, please read them)

~a/n: this week our gal gets some shit done and comes to a realisation due to Yoongi... also I am once again thanking everyone for supporting this story💜💜love you all,, n for those of you who haven’t heard I’m going to be posting a spooktober story soon so stay tuned...

“I want to help.”

Tae paused in the doorway, a steaming plate in each hand, staring at you with a dumbfounded expression.

“Huh?”

“I want to do something to help, you know, with the plan,” you eagerly pressed on.

“Oh,” Taehyung nodded, but a pout remained on his face as he kicked the door shut gently behind him, “the plan with Shinhyuk?”

“Yep.”

Nervously eyeing him as he shifted onto the bed, you waited for him to speak. Instead, he just passed you one of the plates and began to tuck in.

“Taehyung?”

“Mmm,” he hummed indistinctly, looking up at you, cheeks full of food.

“So… can I help?”

For just a moment, his bewildered stare  was all that greeted you and his chewing slowed.

“Mmhmm,” he nodded, as if it was obvious.

“Oh. Okay.”

Admittedly, you hadn’t expected it to be that easy. As you began to eat yourself, Taehyung quickly went back to devouring his own meal without a second thought.

For once, the two of you were inside together during the day as it was the weekend and he wasn’t required for anything except a meeting, which was happening at his place anyway. With him here, you didn’t really need anything else to pass the time, but he had still vowed to bring you some more books soon, given that you had worked your way through the first pile completely now.

After last night, and if you were honest with yourself, even before that, any worry about being around Taehyung had faded away. Not only could you easily pass the time chatting, you very much enjoyed your time with him.

However, once you had both finished your food, it wasn’t long before there was a knock on the door announcing the arrival of the boys and the start of the meeting.

Only four had come as Jimin and Yoongi were out, doing ‘something’. You didn’t ask for details.

Taking the seat furthest from the window, hopefully hidden by Taehyung who sat beside you, you simply stayed quiet for most of the conversation. They didn’t need your input anyway; the plan sounded like it was progressing as well as it could be.

First of all, Jungkook and Namjoon confirmed the first members of Shinhyuk’s group they had managed to pick off, including the leader of a base inside his territory, though the rest were low-level: drivers, informants, dealers, fighters. Not enough to make his gang disappear by any stretch.

Not yet anyway, as Namjoon kept saying in encouragement.

As they resolved to keep digging through rival members, the real challenge was finding an in within Shinhyuk’s immediate circle – the ones who apparently were mainly stationed at what used to be your house.

“All I have is names,” Jungkook sighed, “even though I’m one of them, no one reveals anything about themselves.”

“Even the names might be fake,” Jin reminded him.

“I know,” Jungkook jammed his hands through his hair, “and there’s one – Jintao – he really doesn’t trust me. Makes it difficult for me to do anything. Always has his eyes on me.”

“Y/N can help,” Taehyung cut in then, causing four heads to turn sharply in your direction. You refused to squirm under their glares.

“Tae…” Jin was the first to speak, “it’s dangerous. I’ve been staking out Shin’s clubs and I’ve almost been caught so many times trying to talk to people-“

“She doesn’t have to go out on missions,” Tae reasoned, “a lot of snooping can be done from inside, and since she doesn’t have much else to do…”

“We have access to hackers, Tae,” Namjoon dismissed.

Biting your lip, you looked down. Since Tae had accepted your request to help so easily, you weren’t exactly prepared for this analysis. Perhaps it was stupid to think you would be able to assist these boys.

“She’s just as much a part of this as we are,” Taehyung surprised you with the ferocity in his voice, “she’ll be able to help. And I’ll let her even if you guys don’t.”

Namjoon in particular looked shocked by the younger boy’s unwavering words, but you watched in relief as he gave his assent with a nod, the others raising no further argument.

“What raids are coming up, Jungkook?” Hoseok brought the meeting back on track, prompting Jungkook to relay all the dates Shinhyuk had deals or attacks planned.

You listened as the boys decided which to focus on, though again they were frustrated by their lack of progress. Until Jungkook felt safe again, they weren’t going to counter any attacks, but they could make sure no one would be in the target properties to keep their allies out of danger.

Overall, the meeting left each of you feeling unsatisfied. This war with Shinhyuk was like having an unbearable itch while your hands were tied behind your back. You could only hope their careful preparation would eventually lend them the upper hand when they felt confident enough to retaliate.

With restless minds but nothing to do, Taehyung asked his friends to stay and a movie was agreed upon. As you had observed before, the boys relaxed remarkably quickly, and you were soon laughing with Hobi and Tae as you poured out snacks in the kitchen.

As you collected the packets, Hoseok returned to sit down. You and Tae had barely set foot around the corner when Hoseok let out a yell.

Startled, your head whipped around to find Yoongi standing silently in the doorway, leaning against one side, arms folded and a murderous expression.

“I didn’t see you there,” Hoseok breathed, laughing with a hand over his heart.

Before you could stop it, a snort escaped you, barely choked back, remembering exactly what you had said about Yoongi the night before. Luckily, you weren’t the only one, as you heard Taehyung beside you laughing through his nose, more successful at suppressing the sound.

“I hope there’s good news from the meeting,” Yoongi glared at you two, “I’m going bloody insane dancing around Shinhyuk like this.”

Everyone switched straight back to business mode around you, but you made the mistake of glancing over at Taehyung.

As soon as you made eye contact, neither of you could control yourselves and you had to fight to keep in your mirth. The dark warning glances from the other boys did nothing but fan the flames. Taehyung bit down on his lips as they threatened to break out into laughter; your cheeks ached.

Sinking onto the sofa, Taehyung looked pointedly away from you, shoving his fist into his mouth, shoulders still shaking.

With the tears brimming in your eyes, you didn’t care to listen to Yoongi as he talked about whatever he and Jimin had just come back from. When Jimin came in, a strangled laugh leapt from your mouth before you clamped it shut again, but you had set Tae off again.

The orange-haired boy across the room stared at you both like you were crazy.

“What’s your problem?” Yoongi’s sour face only made it harder to remove him from the ridiculous cartoon stereotype and Taehyung finally broke, guffawing loudly with his head thrown back, before falling against you and clinging to your shoulder, tears running down his face.

Shocked to find Taehyung’s head suddenly pressed into the crook of your neck, your breathless laugh was finally cut off. All you could do was stare down at him with a smile as he pulled himself together, wheezing dramatically the whole time.

At last, he seemed to realise himself and abruptly let go of your shirt. Pulling back, you were face to face for a second, expressions reflecting each other’s surprise, before he closed his mouth and turned back to Yoongi with a flawless poker face.

“Nothing.”

And then you were laughing again.

The prospect of Yoongi almost definitely hating you now didn’t bother you anymore. In the days following the meeting, you had begun to work through the list of names Jungkook had scribbled down of the members of Shinhyuk’s current inner members:

-Gi Beomho- has a Gwangju accent?

-Chaewon/known as Seb

-(Lee?) Minho

-Soonjae

-Jintao

Taehyung had told you his laptop password and you began trawling through the internet for any traces.

Though you were by no means a hacker, one of your friends at college, Jake, had once showed you a few things he knew how to do from his course in computing. Not to mention you were able to stalk someone very efficiently on social media from investigating the hot guy Lisa had seen on the street, or finding Soo’s mysterious girlfriend she refused to introduce to your group.

Now, though, there were no friends laughing around you as you tried to take apart the gang that was living in your house.

After your first afternoon of searching, nothing fruitful came up. When Taehyung had come back in the evening, you were more than happy to abandon the task and join him in your usual dinner routine, falling asleep soon after when you settled down together to watch a film.

But as the days progressed, you became more determined and frustrated in equal measure as you came across few things. You had worked your way through 3 people, giving up only after you had exhausted every avenue you could think to investigate.

Lee Minho took you even longer than the others to rule out, though you suspected from the beginning it was an alias since he shared the name with the famous actor, meaning there was an immense amount of unrelated material cluttering any path to finding the gang member, no matter what you searched.

Slumping back against the headboard, you set the laptop aside and flipped it shut.

Your attempt at working your way through the newest stack of books Taehyung had brought you was much slower than the first time around. Until he came back home, you barely took in the words.

At your side, a notebook containing the few possible leads consistently stole your attention instead.

You had managed to gain access to a couple of police reports on a Gi Beomho in Gwangju, but you would have to verify with Jungkook whether the photo was of the right person, or if you were barking up the wrong tree entirely.

When Tae finally arrived, you anxiously greeted him. Today Shinhyuk had planned his largest attack yet, on a shop that was a front for gang activity, and you knew all the boys had been on standby.

Taking in the scattered books, paper and laptop on the bed, his shoulders slumped.

“Nothing yet?”

“No, sorry,” you confirmed with a sigh.

“Don’t apologise,” he reached out and rubbed a hand along your upper arm to your shoulder. There it lingered, fingers slowly massaging for a moment.

“Were you hurt today?”

In only the short time since he came in, he had only squeezed out a smile once as he tried to reassure you.

At the shake of his head, you felt a knot in your chest release. But he still wasn’t happy.

“So what happened?”

“We didn’t go in at all. It was a lost cause,” he sat on the bed and kicked his shoes off without energy, “he shut the whole place down. It’s done for.”

With another huff, he fell back to lie on the bed. You did the same.

Weighty silence hovered over you both.

You had no idea how long you merely stared up at the ceiling, paralysed, before Taehyung moved. Slowly, he reached his hand out, fingers finding yours. As he intertwined your hands where they lay between you, you simply let your eyes slide shut, squeezing back.

“I know you’ll find something.”

Though you appreciated his support, he said it to assure himself as much as you.

Whether he could see or not, you nodded.

Just then, Tae’s familiar ringtone chimed in the silence. Pulling his phone from a pocket, he held it above him, checking the caller. Deciding it was worth it, he reluctantly pulled his had from yours to push himself up as he swiped across the screen and held the device to his ear.

Sitting up too, you could hear Jungkook’s voice crackling out from the phone.

“Hyung, I think I-I messed up-“

“Woah, Jungkook, what happened?”

“I was in Shinhyuk’s car, and I saw a file in there, he was looking through it, and it had you guys in it! It was labelled ‘bangtan’ and it’s full of information on everyone- I didn’t know he had that, but I just- I panicked, and I stole it, and now I have it but Shinhyuk’s leaving before me and he’ll notice it’s gone and- fuck-“

You caught Tae’s eye as you both listened in horror to the scared maknae.

“Where are you Kook?” Tae demanded, eyes breaking from yours.

“Um, at Y/N’s,” he replied, “the others are just packing away-“

But before he could finish, you had reached over and pulled the phone right out of Taehyung’s grasp.

“Jungkook,” you hissed into the receiver, “there’s two loose floorboards under my wardrobe at the back, they’re pretty quiet to move, can you hide it in there?”

“Uh, yeah,” the boy responded, “thanks.”

You lowered the phone to return to Tae, but suddenly brought it back to your ear.

“And don’t look at any of the stuff that’s already in there!”

“Oh- okay,” the boy sounded startled, but Tae seemed to find your miniature panic hilarious as he took the phone back and hung up.

Saying nothing, he wiggled his eyebrows and smirked at you.

“Oh, shut it,” you ignored the heat rising in your cheeks and shoved him lightly back onto the bed, where he only laughed louder.

“It’s not even- oh you are ridiculous,” you cried as he pulled you down on top of him, only making you turn redder.

In your embarrassment, you tried to wriggle away from him, pushing on his chest, but he grabbed your wrists, bringing you back down, grin ever-present on his face.

“Hey!” you protested, and then, “Ya! Stop! Tae-“

His hands reached down to tickle your sides, and you squirmed away from him again, only to have him follow, ending up on top of you as he mercilessly continued his attack, enjoying himself far too much.

“Ohmygod, ahh, Tae, please, aaaahahaha…”

Struggling, you writhed around, legs kicking out as you shrieked in protest before you finally reached his sides and exacted your revenge. He curled in on himself, giggling and apologising to get you to stop. You did, eventually, only to throw a pillow right at his face, though he easily caught it in the hands he had held up in surrender.

Both collapsing back onto the bed, you turned your head to one side, but you found he was already looking back at you. His laughter had dissipated into a smile which you returned.

“Thanks for helping out Kook,” he said earnestly, eyes boring into yours, “I told you that you would be helpful.”

This time, your heart soared with his praise.

You weren’t hopeful about finding ‘Soonjae’, or anything that could bring him away from Shinhyuk. Having gone through half the list already, the remaining two were the people Jungkook had the least information on.

Trudging through the morning, you were reluctant to take to the computer and be met with more inevitable defeat. Today you felt particularly tired, which didn’t help.

It was strange since you had slept for a long time, waking only after Taehyung had gone, leaving you missing his presence, even if you barely touched him while you shared a bed.

Nonetheless, you found yourself sifting through links and articles online, far from the first page of Google filled with celebrities and international news. With the little information you had on the man, you ended up reading through anything and everything containing the name Soonjae. Facebook profiles, comments on newspaper articles, a GoFundMe page…

Taking a sip of water, you scrolled idly to the bottom of the GoFundMe, which was for a child after all, no gang member, and read the ‘recent’ donations (the most recent being over a year old) and comments. Nothing.

Clicking on ‘show more’, you pulled up the full comment list and scanned through. For what, you weren’t sure. Most donations were small bits and pieces, but among the ones from three years ago, one was a little more sizeable. Along with it came an interesting comment: a woman called Sara was apologising for her ‘previous words’ and wishing the boy well.

You frowned as you read it. Though it was almost certainly unrelated, you were undeniably curious as to what she might have said to target an ill child.

Clicking next on the woman’s account, you decided to try and log in. After employing the password tricks Jake had showed you, you made it. The account had been created the same day as the donation was made on little Soonjae’s page, and appeared untouched since. You supposed this tangent had come to nothing, though you were certainly pleased with your skills after getting into the account.

Closing down the tab, you searched next for ‘Soonjae GoFundMe’. There was the campaign you had already seen, followed by a few that proved to be unrelated as well. You selected ‘next page’ with little hope.

Then something caught your eye.

About halfway down, the name Sara.

Quickly selecting the page, you found yourself on Facebook instead of GoFundMe, but what you found was certainly interesting. It was the same woman from the earlier page. This time she had posted a status:

If anyone on here donates to Soonjae’s fucking gofundme get ready to be cut out of my life XD cheaters don’t deserve your pity

That was certainly interesting. No wonder she had apologised to the boy – it also explained her big donation – probably given out of guilt.

But re-reading the status, you realised she couldn’t possibly be talking about the boy. Unless by ‘cheater’ she meant that he had cheated on a test in school, but you suspected that was not the case.

You clicked on her profile.

Her profile picture showed her holding a little boy that must be around ten, standing on a beach. Flipping through her older profile images, they stopped three years ago. Perhaps she had deleted all previous ones?

Only friends can see Sara’s photos

Only friends can see Sara’s timeline

“Not just friends…” you muttered, getting to work.

Unluckily for Sara, she had used the same password as on her GoFundMe, so you logged in easily.

The first thing you saw was that she reportedly lived in your city: a promising start. Scrolling through to three years ago, you saw only one other post close in time to her attack on Soonjae and his fundraising page:

Sara is feeling: heartbroken X(

That lead you nowhere, so you made your way back up her feed, seeing photos of her son and meals with friends. Few stuck out as anything but happy, all possibly related to the mysterious events of three years ago.

That’s right, delete your fucking facebook. I don’t need to worry about blocking you now XD

Sara is feeling: defeated☹: Just got out of court. Nrs

What was the point in all this? Just to prove something? Well you did, you proved I was right all along

Now you really were intrigued. You needed to find out what was going on, she was definitely linked to a Soonjae in your city, so you had reason to investigate further. Still, as you clicked on the messages icon, you felt very much like a trespasser.

Searching for ‘Soonjae’ at the top, two conversations were pulled up, both from three years ago. One with ‘Park Soonjae’ and one with ‘Help Soonjae’.

First choosing ‘Help Soonjae’, recognising the profile picture as the same image used on the GoFundMe, you read the exchange of messages.

Sara: What the fuck is this?

Sara: I can’t believe you’re pulling the pity card after what you’ve done

Help Soonjae: Excuse me?

Sara: You know what I mean

Help Soonjae: Ma’am, I don’t know you but please calm down. I will block you, this page is only trying to raise hospital funds for my son. I’d thank you to explain how this is ‘pulling the pity card’

Sara: Wait… Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!

Sara: I can’t apologise enough, I thought this was my husband’s page, he has the same name as your son! I didn’t check the page before messaging, I didn’t mean to offend you or your son

Sara: I’ll make a donation to your page to make up for this. I wish your son the best

Read 15:47

And that was the end of that. Wincing with second hand embarrassment, you quickly moved on to ‘Park Soonjae’.

Soon, you realised that the message history was long, but it all ended three years ago. You gave up on scrolling your way to the top, seeing that most messages consisted of ‘I love you’s and reminders to buy milk. The final conversation, however, gave you a lot more information.

Sara: What the fuck is this?

Then followed a screenshot of a GoFundMe page: Help Soonjae win Custody

Sara: You cheated. Maybe you should write that in your description.

Soonjae: Sara, I’ve told you I’m sorry

Sara: And I’ve told you that’s not enough. We are over

Soonjae: I can understand that. I just can’t understand why you want to keep my son from me!

Sara: HOW CAN YOU NOT TELL?!?!

Sara: I never want to see you again, and I don’t want kai to either

Soonjae: How can I make it up to you without going to court? I can’t afford the fees and you know it

Sara: You can’t ‘make it up’ to me. And it’s not my problem anymore if you can afford it or not. I’m blocking you

And that was it.

You wasted no time in opening Soonjae’s profile in a new tab, before taking a screenshot of the messages and logging out of Sara’s account.

Soonjae’s account was indeed deleted, confirming him as the target of Sara’s earlier status update. One search for new profiles under the same name showed no one promising. Your ‘breakthrough’ seemed more trivial now you had taken a step back from it. Without a picture of the Soonjae you had found, you couldn’t confirm if you were on the right target.

You had one last option, and searched for the GoFundMe Sara had sent a screenshot of. At last you found it, though it took a while as it had been declared finished and was from so long ago.

But, once you opened it, it turned out Sara’s screenshot hadn’t included the full photo at the top of the campaign. It had only showed a baby cradled in someone’s arms, but on the site, the full photo extended to show the man’s face.

This time, you did not scroll down.

You just stared.

There would be no need for Jungkook to verify if this was the right man. Those eyes had stared at you before from underneath a hoodie in your own bedroom not so long ago. And the hands that held his son had given you the wound in your side.

“Holy shit…” you breathed, taking a screenshot when you recovered from your shock.

Then you proceeded to scroll down. And it seemed like you had hit the jackpot.

The description had been updated, and the last lines read:

Thanks for the generosity. This page will be deactivated as I have now sourced funding from a private benefactor. Will update those who donated on the court result.

“Tae! Oh my god-“

You froze on the stairs.

On hearing the door opening downstairs, you had presumed Taehyung had returned, but instead, Yoongi stood in the hallway.

“Hi,” he said coolly.

“Sorry,” you murmured, but didn’t retreat back upstairs. Staring back at him, laptop and notebook clutched in your arms, you felt the need to share your breakthrough.

After a few seconds glaring at you, Yoongi moved away down the hallway. Taking a breath, you followed.

“Um, sorry, I thought you were Tae,” you spoke from the door.

“Ok,” came his short reply as he rooted in the fridge.

“Actually, er,” you pushed, making the boy at least turn around and acknowledge your presence, “I wanted to show him something. But… I can show you instead. You know how I was searching up Shinhyuk’s closest members, well, I think I found something.”

His unimpressed face vanished at least a little, and he nodded, taking a swig from the drink he had picked.

“Okay,” you placed the laptop on the island and opened the screenshots you had saved, “so I found this woman’s messages with a Soonjae in the city, they were getting divorced but he couldn’t afford the legal costs to fight for custody of their son.”

Yoongi leaned forwards to read the screen and you stepped aside, worrying your lip. Watching him read, you leaned against the counter to support your tired legs.

“Bastard,” he muttered.

“Pardon?”

“He cheated on her,” he said simply, gesturing towards the screen, drink in hand.

You hummed in agreement and flipped onto the second image.

“He set up this GoFundMe, but see how it says he then received funding from elsewhere.”

“Could be Shinhyuk, definitely,” Yoongi agreed, “I can send Jungkook this guy’s picture-“

“Actually, you don’t have to,” you cut in, “I, er, I recognise him. He was one of Shinhyuk’s that broke into my place.”

“Shit,” Yoongi breathed, turning to take a look back at the man on the screen, “good catch.”

“Thanks,” you couldn’t help but smile, “so… what now?”

Setting his drink aside, Yoongi bent over the counter and opened a new tab, sending the images to his own email, along with a final one of Sara’s details on Facebook.

“I think we have enough to work with. We can use the details for leverage and approach him.”

“Nice,” you couldn’t keep yourself from smiling. Even if only Yoongi was around to see it, you were just proud to have hopefully helped bangtan get another rival under their belt, and get closer to defeating Shinhyuk.

It seemed Yoongi had finished with the laptop, even though he hadn’t yet left the kitchen or even picked his drink up again. Awkwardly, you stepped closer to shut the laptop and slide it off the counter.

Taking a stride back towards the door, you hesitated.

“Well, erm, thanks, I’ll just- yeah.”

“Wait.”

You turned back around, surprised at just how small Yoongi’s voice sounded. Not knowing what to say, you waited as he stood shuffling his feet.

At last he cleared his throat and spoke.

“Listen, I’m sorry for, you know… trying to kill you that time,” he said. His voice was quiet, as if a lower volume would allow him to pretend he never said it.

“Well there’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear,” you chuckled.

“No, I really am,” he spoke stronger this time, actually looking at you, “I know I haven’t been the nicest and-“

“No, it’s okay,” you flashed him another smile, “I know you were just trying to protect Tae.”

He fell silent again for a moment, and you thought that might be it. But something was still on the tip of his tongue and he looked down, one hand coming to scratch his ear.

“I want to tell you I’m happy for you guys. You seem… well, really nice, and I know Tae thinks so too, and I trust him, so… yeah.”

Gulping, he looked up at you, trying to hide his mortification at the barrage of emotion he had just released. You just stared back at him, lost for words.

Maybe he had said something wrong?

“A-and, thank you for doing this work on Shinhyuk’s gang, it’ll really help us. What you did was really impressive-“

“I-I’m sorry,” you finally spluttered out, “what did you mean when you said you- you’re… you’re happy for us?”

Looking back at you, his eyes widened.

“Shit, are you guys not-“

You tried to swallow down any signs of how flustered you were, clutching the laptop tighter in front of your chest. Perhaps he didn’t mean what you thought he might-

“I thought you guys were dating. Shit.”

You couldn’t agree more with that last sentiment.

Just as you opened your mouth, without knowing what you planned on saying, you were saved by the bell. Or rather, the door.

Tae had finally come home. It would be an understatement to say he was surprised to find you and Yoongi together, in conversation too apparently. Hopefully Yoongi had finally quit his tough act and exposed his softness that Tae had insisted you would find eventually.

Yoongi was quick to inform Tae of what you had dug up on Soonjae. Taehyung put his hand on your shoulder, sending you a proud grin that made your heart race as he told you he knew you could do it.

The whole time you were aware of Yoongi watching the interaction, and you excused yourself as soon as you could, leaving the boys to themselves.

Practically running up the stairs, you were left panting as you closed the door to the bedroom. Just one short burst of speed had knocked you out, but that concern barely crossed your mind as you surrendered to the mattress, thinking only of what Yoongi had told you.

He thought you were dating? Ridiculous…

But then why had the suggestion got to you so much? Sure, you shared a bed with the guy, and you enjoyed being with him, and liked it when he held your hand or hugged you…

Fuck.

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[hobbitsnapes]

the elf in the café chapter 4

A corpse husband story

(I do not own this photo, nor do I know where it originated from. All credit goes to the artist.)

Summary: Never in his life, did he think going to a cafe and meeting a Harry Potter nerd could change his life. (I’m shit at summaries

A/N: H/N means his name, being that we don’t know what his actual name is currently

Days turned into weeks, as both of them spent as much time together as they could. Countless texts and phone calls each day, some lasting well into the wee hours of the night as both lay in their beds. Giggles breaking the silence of their rooms as their hearts soared.

He couldn’t remember a time he was this happy, almost feeling like he was in a dream he hoped he never woke up from. But each touch of her skin against his reminded him that this, was real. That she wasn’t a maroge, wasn’t an angel sent from above, or a fragment of his imagination. She was real and was in his life.

The last month had been filled with a plethora of dates. Most usually consisting of a meal at his place and a movie. But some, some were out of the walls of his apartment. And they grew to be some of the greatest memories of his life.

The smell of the restaurant hit them both almost immediately, sending a warm, calming sensation over both of them.

They walked over to a table, pulling out her chair for her, watching as her face flushed momentarily.

It was a lovely night, the glass of wine they had helping any residual nerves for hun. He can’t remember the last time he went out, besides the day he met her. But he especially can’t remember a night out where he wasn’t trembling in fear and anxiety. It’s like she had a calming aura around her that radiated. Like just her presence helped to ease any and all fears inside of him.

They met up again a few days later, again going over to his apartment. While he lived the night out they had, he did miss the pure comfort of just being home with her.

It was strange, they had barely been going on dates, and this being the second time she had come by. But it felt like a true home when she came. It’s like she brought warmth and a light. As if just with her presence, she made it a home.

He can’t help but let out a chuckle as they swayed around in a circle, a warmth bubbling inside of him as her eyes gazed into his brown ones. It was, magical. That was the best way to describe the feeling he had. The touch of her warm body against his, the feel of her hand clasped with his, the feel of his hand at the middle of her back, the feel of her heart lightly thumping against his, and the feel of her head resting in his neck. It was truly, amazing.

His hands tremble in hers as they enter the park, people filling it almost entirely. He feels his stomach drop as he notices just the sheer amount of people around him. He can’t remember the last time he was around so many people. He wants to run, run away back to his apartment where the feeling of his chest tightening as panic resins through him would disparate.

He’s broken from his panic as the feel of her thumb running along his hand, looking down and seeing her kind eyes looking at him. “Don’t worry hun, I know exactly where to go.”

His panic subsides considerably when they come to a clearing. It’s not large, but spacious enough to where nobody was around enough to scare the overly shy man.

They take a seat under a small tree, setting the blanket underneath them. They set out the picnic basket that he had carried for her, insisting to carry it for her.

It was the fourth of July, a day he never really celebrated. But her pleading eyes and soft voice asking for them to go see the fireworks, persuaded him.

It was truly one of the best nights he’s had in his life. Not only getting to spend time with her, but the lasting memories he’ll cherish forever.

He looked through his phone with a smile etched on his face.

They had taken a few photos and videos, all of which he was thankful for having.

Most were just them sitting, heads close as they posed for the pictures. You could tell they didn’t take them often, but it added a level of charm to them.

But his favorites, had to be the ones he’d take of her.

First one being of her smiling as she had a sparkler in hand, her smile so wide, it crinkled her eyes. Her lips painted in a true red helped to make her already dazzling smile even more breathtaking.

The second was a video, well, more a small clip. She was spinning around, making her dress glow around her. Her hair covering some of her face, but her smile still shinning.

The third was a runner for his favorite. It was a simple photo of her eyes shining in amazement when the fireworks started. You could see the lights shining in her eyes as she gazed up at them. The look of a childlike wonder on her face.

His favorite, he didn’t expect to be. He never liked photos with himself in it, always preferring ones of others with him taking them. But, he couldn’t help the feeling of his heart quivering and soaring inside him when he looked at it.

They both sat on the soft blanket, the photo being taken from above. Her head rested in his neck, only her smile being visible. His head was down, looking at her, like her, only his smile visible behind his hair. His arm wrapping around her securely, neither wanting to move. It was a candid photo, not posed or staged any. It was, beautiful, amazing. The look of sheer happiness written on their faces as they embrace one another, truly feeling the budding love between them.

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, dread filling him. That was, until he saw her smiling face pop up on the screen, his heart fluttering.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asks, hearing her walking, and moving what is presumably papers around her. “Just getting out of classes and was wondering if you’d go to the shops with me?” Anxiety bubbles up his chest at her question. “Uh, are you sure you need me?” He asks, pain in his heart at his response.

He’s slowly gotten out of his small bubble with her, going for daily walks and such. But there was still a level of anxiety and fear inside him each time he had to go shopping.

“I’m sorry, but I actually kinda do.” She replies, making him squint his brows in confession. “Why’s that?” “My car broke down this morning on the way to my classes.” Her voice heavy as she spoke. “I’m sorry.” She says, guilt bubbling through her. “Hey no don’t be, stay there, I’ll come pick you up alright?” He says, grabbing his keys and running out the door.

Both walked side by side as they strolled through the aisles, his hand holding onto her arm.

Over the last month, he noticed that just her touch would calm him. Just the feel of her skin or clothing, swept away any form of fear or anxiety.

She had obviously noticed as well, finding it sweet how he felt comfort just by her touch. Which is why each time they went out, she’d let him hold onto her like a security blanket.

“Mind grabbing that for me?” She asks, looking up at the cereal box. It was much too high for her, not even the tips of her fingers would be able to touch it. She watched as he struggled to reach the box, chuckling at his groan as the box falls backwards. “What’s so funny?” He laughs, watching as she struggles to keep her composure. “It’s just that, you’re tall and you’re having trouble getting it.” “Just because I’m taller than you, doesn’t mean I’m actually tall.” He laughs, making her laugh harder.

“Let’s grab another one then.” She says, going to walk away. She squeals out as she feels him pick her up. “There we go.” He says as he raises her above his head, making her stomach drop as she grabs for the box.

He sets her down slowly, making sure her legs wouldn’t give out. She sent him a glare, making him chuckle. “What? It worked didn't it?”

Both sat in the car as they drove back, the ac blasting due to the hot summer air.

He watched the road, well at least attempted to.

He had an idea, one that he had for a while now. He knew it was pointless, being that he knew she wasn’t into social media. But he couldn’t help but worry that she knew.

Logically, it made no sense. Fearing for it when he had looked up her name and only found her Facebook that she hadn’t updated in over a year. But he couldn’t help but wonder.

“Hey, this is gonna sound weird but, there’s a song I wanna see if you know.” He says, grabbing his phone and typing on the screen. E girls, he decided, would be the best one to see. Being that it was his most popular.

He watched as her eyes slightly widened as the lyrics started, keeping an eye on her reactions.

He was no behavioral analysis like her, nowhere near her level. But he could tell enough by how she reacted.

“It’s good, not really the kinda stuff I listen to but, he’s got a good voice.” Relief fills him at her statement. “Actually, he kinda sounds like you. You should try covering it sometime.” He chokes on his drink at her statement. ‘Oh, if only you knew.’ He thought.

Both lay on the couch as they watch a movie, his arm securely wrapped around her. Her head resting against his chest, smiling at the sound of his slow heartbeat.

Both had grown much closer over the last month, Marley being able to go a time without a form of physical touch. Both brought a sense of comfort to one another, always feeling secure and happiness when touching.

Her eyes opened as she felt his lips press to her forehead.

His lips lingered there for a moment, keeping them there. “Thank you.” He whispered, not knowing she was awake. Her heart fluttering rapidly.

She groaned out as she felt him shaking her lightly, making her curl further into him, making him chuckle. “It’s getting late, you still want me to take you home?” He whispered, making her finally open her tired eyes. She looked up, making her breath catch in her throat. His head was no more than a few inches from her, a soft smile on his face. “Please?” She asks, making him smile further. “Alright, let’s get going.”

Traffic was light as they drove, a soft silence filling the car. Both were context just sitting there, even without words.

He finally reached her small home, pulling into the driveway. The home was small, but beautiful. Soft flowers decorated the front porch. He noticed a small sign in one of them, seeing a photo of what looks to be a child. He couldn’t see it well due to how far he was.

She pulled him into a hug, wrapping both their arms around one another. They both let out a sigh, their hearts pulling.

She pulled away first, making him look into her eyes. “Thank you.” She whispered. “No problem.” He smiled, before his breath caught in his throat. She quickly pressed her lips to his forehead, making him melt into her embrace.

She pulled away as fast as she did it, both their faces flushed a vibrant red. “Have a goodnight.” She chuckled, making him smile.

He watched as she walked up to her door. Waiting to pull out until she got in.

He watched as her home disappeared into the dark night, a large smile on his face.

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Four | Nyeh Heh Heh! (Part 2 of 2)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

There's a time and place for everything, but not now.

You remind yourself of that and quite bluntly suck it up. 

All weaknesses are forced back down and corked shut, establishing a path for you to finish what you started. You went all the way out of the city just to meet up with Papyrus, and you were here to bring some sort of closure as to how you could approach him after concluding with your first meeting. Still, that's no excuse for you to be rude or break any of your hospitality rules, so you smile at the skeleton and thank him for the letter, it's contents you assume’s money judging by how thick and heavy the envelope is.

"This means a lot, but… Are you sure it's okay for me to accept this?"

"Of course it is! Alphys would be glad to fix your phone and even upgrade it for you!"

Now that makes more sense.

But that still doesn't explain why it's that thick and heavy. Whatever contents there are inside it remain a mystery as you wonder how that's possible and why it's even necessary to carry in an envelope what you assume is simply Alphys's contact information. Nonetheless, you store it away with the rest of your belongings and continue on walking until you make it out of the mall.

"I apologize for not, well… doing what we were meant to do today, but thank you for understanding," you say, keeping up with his pace.

"Of course. Communication is key, (miss/mister)!" He smiles back at you and slows down to a full halt when you both make it to the bus stop. "We can discuss all these matters later on, but wouldn't it be better for you to get a check up with your doctor first?" He almost seems to realize something’s off with his question and adds, "Not that your appearance is unpleasant, but that you simply do not look as healthy as the pictures Frisk showed me of you! You look... rather fatigued, if I’m to be honest."

"I'll…" You trail off when you notice you're beginning to compare both Papyrus and his brother's actions with Jerry's.

Jerry didn't notice how different you looked back at your meeting with Sans; rather, he only noticed you were with someone new, and nothing else.

He didn't demonstrate the same level of insight as Sans did.

And he didn't show as much concern as Papyrus did, either.

Jerry didn't-

"I'll keep that in mind." You shove all that aside and step inside the bus, Papyrus following after you. It's jam packed, so you're led to hold onto the nearest hand railing before it takes off.

While you wait for an opening to continue talking with him, more thoughts return to your mind, these about last week and how Jerry wouldn’t stop texting you information about the monsters no matter how much you ignored it all. The only messages you’d opened were the ones about who Sans was, and -- considering in what state that left both you and your phone screen in -- you’ve now established it upon yourself to not look at any other message Jerry's sent. If he wanted to warn you and Frisk about anything else, then he had to gather the wits to apologize for ditching his child for so long and actually reveal some sort of positive change in him.

Hell. When was the last time you saw him -- last December, maybe?

You let all those frustrations out through a huff and loosen your grip on the railing when you notice you've become too carried away with your thoughts. There's no reason for you to be thinking about him anymore. You were over Jerry’s bull crap a long, long time ago, and having him text you again after almost a whole year of complete and utter silence from his part couldn't possibly be enough for you to begin thinking about him again.

"I forgot to mention there's another thing from Sans inside that envelope," Papyrus says, serving as a necessary distraction from your overthinking mind. "He thinks it's useful for what you will be dealing with soon, now that you've made it your goal to learn more about Frisk's monster friends." The doors hiss as the first stop arrives. People begin to stand up and exit, leaving a few seats empty for both you and your companion, as well as those who were also left to stand and hold on. “How was your meeting with him, by the way?” 

“It was fine,” you reply, assessing his question and the change of tone that goes along with it. His once amiable tone changes for curiosity, almost as if he’d no prior knowledge of how your meeting with his brother went despite having proven the contrary back at the food court. It's sudden but subtle, though as much as you try to understand what it's caused by, you come out short of possibilities. “And he was nice. I wanted to pay for at least my part of the lunch we had, but he covered for it… And now you did the same today, too.” You chuckle at that thought and look up at the monster with a smile. “You’re both just as hospitable, I’d say.”

He sighs, a sound marked by relief. His face shows that same emotion based on how his gaze loosens up and how contentment returns to his expression, once clouded by that earlier one caught with his change in tone, still unknown to you. “It is not my intent to persuade you into anything, but… I was hoping you would both get along better. At first, it was for how worried I was that he would not adjust well to the Surface, but it looks like you could both benefit off getting along with each other!”

It becomes clearer now as to what his intentions are.

He was worried as any caring sibling would be for the other sibling’s well-being. It made sense despite how outgoing both skeletons appeared to be. The elder one looked to be the type to keep to himself more based on the sole, first impression you had of him. He knew when and where to joke around, he knew how to strike up a conversation, and he was thoughtful to a noticeable extent, but all that still didn’t cover up how he approached certain topics with you, even if he was still barely acquainted to you. Even if he was honest and even if he’d been earnest enough to confess his faults to you right on your first meeting, there remained something about him that told he was still keeping certain feelings to himself, such as that of a different weakness found beyond his mistakes. Papyrus showed that quality plenty both in subtle and blatant ways, such as when he admitted when he felt that he’d failed his friendship with Frisk and how he cried when talking with you earlier ago. Sans, on the other hand, didn’t quite reveal having any emotional bond in him when talking about how he’d failed his promise and Frisk in the process. Not that it meant that he didn’t feel any repentance over his actions, but that he simply seemed to take his job as a judge for the Underground into his real-life relationships -- using that mindset even outside the Judgment Hall. 

But, of course, you hardly knew him, so that could just be you overthinking the weight and significance of the situation and misinterpreting what could be a hint of introversion in the monster when compared with his younger brother.

Over-analysis aside, you consider yet another perspective regarding what Papyrus meant when he said he hoped for you and Sans to get along.

Was it really possible he meant that as simply friendship?

Or was he throwing subtle remarks about a possible set up?

“Do you…” A mild sense of guilt overcomes you at the mere consideration of that possibility, though it doesn’t stop your stressed mind from doing what it wants. “As friends, you mean?”

Notwithstanding his seemingly innocent character, Papyrus’s gaze widens and he looks away for a split second, cheekbones burning red. “Yes,” he replies, followed by, “I apologize if that made you think a different way. I just want him to have new friends and open up some more! Though now that you mention it, he..." He trails off and frowns. "He is a bit different from most of our friends. He is almost the same age as Undyne and Alphys, and yet he still hasn’t dated anyone to this day! That, and he always rejects the advances he gets from a few people he knows from Grillby’s bar.”

“Maybe he’s aromantic or something similar?” you suggest, quirking a brow and smiling at the sight of Papyrus's flustered state. “That’s normal, if so. It could just mean he’s not interested in a romantic relationship and stuff like that.”

“But I’m still worried about him -- He’s just like this for making new friends, too! And he’s been acting strange since the Barrier broke.”

Your smile grows the further Papyrus talks, and it’s almost a challenge for you not to burst out a laugh; not in a mocking sort of sense, but for the sheer worry he expresses both through his words and body language. It’s almost as if your personalities have switched, making it now his turn to show his own set of stresses, but in a far more composed way compared to your previously anxious state. He sighs and places a hand over his forehead, expressing his troubled thoughts yet again through the rub of his temples. “If anything, I hope it’s that… And that he’s not keeping stuff to himself!” He looks at you with a small smile and adds, “Could you…” He hesitates, though he recovers with a breath in and a harrumph. “Could you ask him about that one day? I do not know much about these topics myself, but… In the meantime, I was hoping if…”

He trails off for a second time.

At that chance, you intervene, saying, “Sure.” You let out a laugh, a simple sound that seems to be sufficient for the skeleton to relax again. “You both paid for lunch, and you’re here with me after I said I needed to talk with you about the whole situation at the Underground, so…” You take a pause as your smile grows. “It’s only fair I try to pay some of that forward, don’t you think? I’m sure I can find a way to ask him without being blunt about it.”

Tears return to Papyrus’s eye sockets as sudden as thunder on a clear, sunny day. At that sight, you offer him a hug, one he accepts just as quickly. His arms squeeze you tight, similar to that of a child hugging their favourite stuffed animal after a fright, and he nearly sobs into your shoulder afterwards, the emergence of that action incrementing his grip on you. “You are too kind, (miss/mister)!” he exclaims, capturing the attention of the few passengers still remaining in the train. “I will make sure the rest of us you have left to meet are just as cooperative with you!”

You release a quiet gasp, in needful search for air when he lets you go, and chuckle when you see his gaze is as hopeful as someone with a lottery ticket. Were you both not sitting and still waiting for your stop, you would imagine he would’ve hugged you for longer or further showed his gratitude through a bow. “It’s alright,” you say, shaking your head. “Maybe I’m a little weak right now, but as soon as I go visit the doctor and get things cleared out, just say the word and I’ll do what I can to help you guys get settled up here.”

Papyrus sniffles into the third tissue you’ve offered him today and trembles after recovering. He then looks at you with a clearer gaze and a fonder smile, both of these enhanced by the late afternoon sunlight beginning to shine through the train’s large windows. “E- Even if you… consider some of us as enemies by the end of it?”

“It would all depend on how it goes, but…” You rub the back of your neck and allow a pensive frown to take over for a moment. “Based on what I know so far, I doubt I won’t be able to help out. Even if some of you hurt Frisk, I... I still have to acknowledge how much you offered and did for them after you learned they weren’t an enemy.”

His hopeful gaze almost drives into a pitfall and a trace of guilt flickers on his visage.

All other surroundings and people present besides the chair you sit on, his presence, and yourself shift to a sudden blur as you can only concentrate on that change, too abrupt for your liking.

“About that…” he speaks up, hesitating. “There’s something I believe neither Frisk nor any of us have told you about, and that is-”a

Your destined stop finally arrives, interrupting whatever closely-hidden confession the skeleton was about to direct at you.

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

[criminalminds4days]

Family Matters: Prologue

As promised, here is the prologue for the series. 

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references, violence and murder reference, public embarrassment, and very bad jokes!

Word Count: 3.2k

Chapter Board | Next Chapter

Tag list: @mcntsee @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @evelyncade @haylaansmi @paulaern @myfandomlife-blog

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(This gif is not mine)

Prologue: Get It Together!

She was gonna do it. Yes, of course, she was. She had finished college, gotten a doctorate, taken down an armed serial killer, been held hostage and now she worked for the Behavioral Analysis Unit, one of the most exclusive and hard to join teams in the FBI, so of course she could do this! Yet here she was, breathing heavily as she tried to press the button, it was now or never.

Maybe never?

No! She couldn't be afraid anymore, she had to do it. She was twenty-eight years old, she couldn't just... But what if her age was the reason this was pathetic? No! She had to do it, she had to do it. There was no turning back, if her family found out about this she would be humiliated (yet again). She couldn’t just say that at her age she had fallen so low. She had to cover it up, there was no other way. But what if they found out anyway? No, she couldn’t allow such a thing.

Breathe.

"Are you okay?" The voice of her coworker made her jump and almost drop her phone. She locked the screen and turned to look at him. He seemed confused at her reaction, but she simply fixed her hair as if it was any other Monday and what she was doing was perfectly normal.

"I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine." He pointed out. That was Spencer Reid, always kind, always honest. His brown hair was a curly mess and his brown eyes stared at her intently as he fixed his navy tie, he was wearing a white dress shirt and grey dress pants, definitely not the attire she imagined ever seeing from the sweater-loving resident genius at the BAU, however, she resisted the urge to comment, instead focusing on the issue at hand.

"Thank you, what all girl wants to hear." She debated whether it was worth telling him or not. While she and the other Doctor on the team weren’t necessarily good friends, being held hostage together and taking a beating to prevent him from being killed creates a certain bond between people, so she decided to attempt and share her situation. “I was trying to... Ugh, this is so embarrassing." She placed her head in her hands, lamenting every second of her miserable life.

"I don't know, maybe if you tell me it'll be less embarrassing?" He asked.

He was trying to be helpful; she knew he was, and she appreciated that more than anything, but it was hard to share how low she had fallen despite her age and position. She knew if someone would listen and not make fun of her it would be the man sitting at the desk across from hers, but she just couldn’t phantom saying it out loud. Then again, he was a genius, and he was not known for his successful love life, so maybe, just maybe he would understand the situation better?

"I accidentally told my annoying cousin that I was dating someone and now I have to bring my boyfriend to her stupid wedding."

"So? How is that embarrassing?"

"I don't have a boyfriend!"

"Why did you say you did? How do you accidentally tell someone you have a boyfriend when you don't?" She knew he wasn't making fun of her, that he was genuinely perplexed, but that knowledge didn't help subside her irritation.

"I only said it because she kept ranting about how I was gonna die alone and she was better than me..." She looked at him, his brow raised. "Okay, maybe she didn't say it exactly like that, but the intention was clear!" She cleared hair out of her face and continued, "Anyway, because I clearly do not have a significant other, I thought that if I hired someone to be my boyfriend during the wedding, it might be less painful?"

"You decided that the best way to solve your problem, of lying to your annoying cousin about your love life was hiring a fake boyfriend?" She looked at him, and a small smile played on his lips. "How does that make sense?"

"It doesn't! But I'm out of options here and I don't know what to do!" Her leg started bouncing as she bit her lip. "The wedding is this weekend, and I will die before I admit I lied to bitchy Anna!"

"That's a little extreme, don't you think?"

"Spencer Reid, you have no idea how far I'll go to shut bitchy Anna up!"

"Who's bitchy Anna?" Another voice said as Emily Prentiss, a tall woman with clear skin and dark short hair made her way to them. She was wearing a white dress shirt with a matching black blazer and dress pants, her small heels making a click-clack noise as she walked. If only she could have the confidence and stamina of Emily Prentiss, she would not be in this mess. Though she couldn’t daydream of being the woman in front of them too much after hearing Spencer’s words.

"Her cousin to whom she lied about dating someone. Consequently forcing her to now look for a fake boyfriend for hire." Spencer spoke as if nothing was weird about the whole situation.

"Why don't you just take Reid? It's not like he has plans, right?" She suggested as an amused smile played on her lips.

She didn't even have time to be mad at the man for spilling out her most embarrassing secret like it was nothing, because Emily's words made her perk up. She turned to him and he quickly shook his head.

"No, there is no way. I hate weddings, and parties in general."

"You owe me!" She argued.

"What? I don't owe you anything!" He defended himself.

"Of course you do, you told Emily something I confided in you!"

"You didn't tell me I wasn't allowed to say anything!"

"Spencer, please, I will do anything you want in order to make bitchy Anna eat her words." She placed her most convincing puppy face and looked at him. This face never failed, on anybody. She had mastered the art at age five and from then on the only thing it couldn’t get her was a normal family. Actually, scratch that, it never really worked after she became ten and Anna had also mastered it, but she was hoping this would be an exception.

"No."

Well, she had already embarrassed herself enough, so what was more begging in the great scheme of things?

"Come on, it's not like I'm asking you to marry me! I'm just asking you to pretend to be in love with me for one day."

"Be careful, that's how a lot of love stories begin," Prentiss said teasingly as she winked at the pair.

"Come on, I will give you money, I will drive you to work for a month. Whatever you want, it's yours." She said, "and Prentiss, this is the real world, not some cheesy love story. Spencer and I are much too mature for those silly things."

"No, I'm mature enough to know better. You just offered anything I want on a silver platter so I can pretend to be your boyfriend at your cousin's wedding. Let that sink in for a minute." He said as his smile grew wider, an idea clearly appearing in his mind. "Let me see, how about, a whole year of rides to work and coffee, for 24 hours of being the fake love of my life."

"Deal." She stretched her hand to shake on it and he looked at her, slightly offended. "Sorry, I forgot. I will make sure to wash my hands more times than necessary and wear gloves all week because you do have to hold my hand during the wedding, couples do that."

"Real couples do that, and it's not very hygienic."

"Well, for Saturday we will be a fake real couple, so let that sink in for a minute." She said as she triumphantly left the scene. She was making her way to the elevator, until she remembered she couldn’t really leave as she had arrived only thirty minutes ago, and her shift was not over until five. She fixed her hair and walked back to her desk as if she hadn’t just embarrassed herself in front of two of her coworkers and continued her paperwork. She heard a laugh from Emily’s desk and didn’t even bother to look up. She had figured out her plan and now she just hoped it would not explode in her face, so a few laughs from her coworker were worth the trouble.

Truth be told, there was a much bigger reason she needed to have someone at the wedding, but Spencer and Emily didn't need to know that. They didn’t need to know why she was willing to feed Spencer Reid’s addiction to coffee and his hate for driving for a whole year rather than tell her cousin she was still single.

Before she knew it, the weekend had arrived and she was in her car, a two-door gray Scion she had very proudly named Matthew when she bought him last June, and she made her way to Spencer's complex. She waited for him in her car after letting him know she was outside. She took the time to look at her now straight hair and her barely visible make-up. She knew blue was Anna’s favorite color, as it was also hers, so she made sure to wear a turquoise dress for her wedding, this was going to be a productive night, for sure.

"Hello, darling." He said as he buckled his seat belt. He was wearing a black suit with a tie that matched her dress, provided by her. His hair was lazily pushed back, giving his fluffy curls volume. She wondered what it would be like to touch it? Spencer would never allow it; he loved his hair way too much.

"We are gonna have the time of our lives, babe." She winked at him and began driving to the venue.

Of course, Anna would use the same venue she had been wishing for her wedding because it wouldn't be Anna if she couldn't have absolutely everything she ever wanted and more. The woman didn't know how long ago this passive-aggressive feud between the two had begun but she'd be damned if she let her cousin beat her at it. She pulled Spencer by the arm gently as she made her way to their table, which was front and center, granting her cousin the ability to see who she had brought along.

"If it isn't my favorite cousin!" She exclaimed. The girl fought the urge to roll her eyes. "And who might this be?"

"Anna, this is my boyfriend, Dr. Spencer Reid. Babe, this is my cousin, Anna."

"Anna, newly Hemingway." She emphasized her last name. As she reached to stretch his hand, but he simply waved. "Pleasure." She said as she retracted her hand and looked him up and down. It was only natural for her to do such a thing. "So cousin, have you heard that the family retreat has a date?" She exclaimed with excitement. "It's in about two weeks. You two obviously coming, right?"

"We actually have a retreat, with our team from the Behavioral Analysis Unit." She said, already looking for a way out, Spencer nodded in agreement.

“What a shame,” Her cousin said with faked empathy. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with what happened two years ago, does it?”

She was out of words, of course she would bring it up. Because of that incident she had convinced her mother to not force her to go last year and it was definitely the reason she was not going this year either, but the fact that Anna knew that got to her. She was ready to go home and cry of embarrassment once again. She had done it. Anna had won with one single question.

“Actually, I didn’t want to say anything hon, because it was a surprise,” Spencer spoke for the first time. “Aaron Hotchner, our boss, said that if I could memorize the whole itinerary, which I obviously can thanks to my eidetic memory and IQ of 187, that I could simply share the notes with you and we can take the weekend off since we are his favorites anyway. I was planning on a much more romantic evening than some family retreat but if your cousin is so determined to have us go, we shall be there.” He smiled at the bride, his amusement not so subtle at her reaction.

“You found a keeper,” Anna said, moving some blonde strands of hair from her face. “Anyway, I have to say hello to some guests, but I will see you two lovebirds later.” Her white dress got caught under her heel making her cousin almost fall, but this last one continued as if nothing happened.

"Thank you." She said as she squeezed his hand gently, realizing they were still linked. A whole thirty minutes, that had to be a record for him.

"Don’t thank me, now I understand why you call her bitchy Anna.” They both chuckled at the comment.

“I will call the day of the retreat and say you came down with the flu or something.” She assured him.

“No, I am definitely coming.”

"What? Why would you want to do that?"

"Because," He began, "in the time I've known you I've never seen you let anyone walk over you, or make you feel less. Remember when we met?" She chuckled at the thought. "I didn't appreciate the public embarrassment, but I gained a lot of respect for you. It was hard watching you let her talk to you like that and make you feel less. You are not less." He assured her as he looked at her, sympathy in his eyes. "You are an amazing agent and friend. I bet you're a great daughter and a reliable family member. You are much stronger than you give yourself credit for. If it wasn't for you, we would have never survived that day, I will never forget that. So, I will go with you, and I will be the best boyfriend your family has ever seen, and bitchy Anna can suck it."

She laughed at his comment and he joined. Boy, was she glad Spencer was here with her. Even if they had never been the closest of friends, she valued his opinion, and she was glad it was such a positive one. She wished this was the beginning of an actual friendship between the two.

"Honey!" Her mother's voice interrupted her thoughts, as she approached them

"Oh no." She mumbled, confusing Spencer. "Babe, get ready. You're about to meet my mom." She apologized with her eyes and turned to the bubbly woman that approached them. "Hello, mother." She said as the dark-haired woman with tan skin and stiletto heels that should be illegal reached her, giving her a tight hug. Her red dress matched the infernal shoes and a necklace of pearls adorned her neck.

"Who might this handsome fella be?"

"Mom, this is Spencer Reid, my boyfriend. Spencer, this is my mother." Before he could say anything she was already squishing his cheeks followed by the woman planting a kiss on each side of his face. "You are handsome, I bet my grandchildren will be gorgeous!"

"Mom!" She exclaimed embarrassed.

"What? Don't tell me you're not planning on marrying this hunk? He's a keeper, I can tell."

"You also said that about Tyler." She regretted the comment instantly, the reason being that she didn't need anybody else to know of that embarrassing story.

"Yeah well, aren't you glad you aren't with him anymore?" She said as if public humiliation was something to appreciate. "So how long have you two been seeing each other?"

"Two years."

"A year." She responded as she heard Spencer answer at the same time. "He means that he's liked me for two years, but we only went on our first date a year ago, a year after my breakup with Tyler."

"Yeah, that's right."

"Oh, well. I always thought you would be Mrs. Tyler Hemingway, but Mrs. Spencer Reid sounds so much better!"

"It's doctor." They both corrected.

"Even better!" After that, she walked off without saying another word.

"That's your fake mother-in-law dude... She's something else." She sighed with relief at her mother's easily distracted personality.

"Did she say, Hemingway? As in-"

"Yes, as in my cousin's new husband." She cut him off. "The same one that two years ago told me in front of most of my family that he was in love with my cousin and left me heartbroken and humiliated. That same Tyler Hemingway."

"I'm sorry."

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?" She heard his voice call her and she immediately tensed, Spencer noticed this and moved towards her.

"I am also sorry for what I am about to do, but it will make sense soon." He said as he let go of her hand and grabbed her cheeks, pulling her for a kiss as her ex-boyfriend now turned cousin-in-law watched, perplexed.

When someone describes a fake kiss, it is usually romantic. First comes the surprise, and then immediate compliance, but she was so confused Spencer had to basically squish her cheeks to make her close her eyes and for her to realize what he was doing. She followed suit and kissed him back, still unable to form a coherent thought. It was not like Spencer Reid was a bad kisser, if she had to rate it, it would have been the best kisser she had ever encountered, but the situation that had created such a kiss did not provide for her enjoyment. Not that she wanted to enjoy it, this was her coworker turned accomplice and hopefully actual friend, not someone she was necessarily attracted to, even though she could admit that he was a handsome man. That was not something weird, even Jennifer Jareau, JJ, their friend, and coworker had said it once or twice. You can admit someone is handsome or beautiful without being attracted, everybody knew that.

The cough coming from Tyler Hemingway made Spencer let go of her, as soon as he did he winked at her and moved a strand of hair behind her ear, subtly stabilizing her and covering her shocked face until it dissipated.

“I thought you weren’t one for PDA,” The groom asked. His black tuxedo and white dress shirt made him look handsome, his black hair was pulled back and his blue eyes observed them intently.

“PDA?”

“Public Demonstration of Affection.” She clarified. “Tyler, have you seen this man next to me? How could I not want to kiss him every minute of the day.”

“And this woman has me craving for her touch.”

“Lovely.” The man responded with anything but love for them. “I just wanted to say hi and apologize, I hope you did not mind the venue Anna chose.”

“Me? Why would I mind?” She laughed. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

She felt Spencer’s arms wrap around her waist from behind, even though she hadn't noticed he moved. His head rested on her shoulder, leaving small kisses on her cheeks. Who was this man and what did he do with Spencer Reid?

“I hope you do not take this the wrong way, but when she and I get married it would have to be a much larger venue, with a different layout. I mean, this venue is cute, but this beautiful woman could outshine it just in pajamas.” He smiled at the man and turned his attention to her. “I keep telling you love: stop thinking small, you are a queen among peasants and deserve nothing but the best. Anyone who can’t see the level of woman you are is simply an idiot.”

This was the moment she was ready to marry Spencer Reid and never let him go, just for the satisfaction of seeing Tyler’s face at his comment. She would forever be grateful to Emily Prentiss for suggesting she ask him.

[hale-13]

Engulfed

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 30(!!!) Prompt - Crying

It’s just all too much. Everything is too much. It’s been a year and Peter can’t stand to do anything but sit here on this roof and ruminate until his mind goes blank.

Words: 2146, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Roger Harrington

TW: Depression, Survivor’s Guilt

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

“Peter can I speak with you real quick?” Mr. Harrington called as the final bell of the day rang and students started abandoning the class in droves. Ned shared a commiserating look with him as he finished packing up his things and left the room; leaving Peter to approach Mr. Harrington’s desk nervously and stand in front of it, shifting his weight back and forth nervously. “Oh!” Mr. Harrington said, holding up his arms in surrender as he closed the door behind the last student. “You can relax, you aren’t in trouble!”

Peter let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and let some of the tension drain from him muscles. “I’m not?”

Harrington raised an eyebrow at him, “Have you done something to warrant being in trouble?”

“No!” Peter said, his voice breaking a little on the end. “No sir!”

His teacher gave him a suspicious look but didn’t push it, instead gesturing for Peter to sit down in one of the empty desks as he perched on the edge of his own desk. Peter dropped his bag and sat, trying to keep his fingers from twitching from the anxiety strumming through him. Harrington observed him for a moment longer before sighing and handing Peter a folder. With curiosity, Peter opened it and paled considerably as he cycled through his latest test grade in addition to his final paper and project of the nine week grading period. There wasn’t a single grade above a ‘C’.

“So I wanted to talk to you before I handed these back tomorrow,” his teacher said gently, pulling a free chair up to the desk Peter was seated at and pulling the folder from his slack fingers. “Peter this isn’t the work I’m used to you turning in. What’s going on?”

“I uh,” Peter said, mind blanking as he flipped through his term paper that was absolutely coated in copious amounts of red ink. “I don’t know. I worked… I mean I spent… I don’t know,” he stuttered out, feeling untethered and confused.

Harrington sighed and, carefully, pried Peter’s fingers from the folder and closed it, setting it down on the desk. “You’ve seemed a little overwhelmed recently,” he said gently. “Most of your teachers have noticed it and this isn’t the only class where your work has taken a bit of a nose-dive. I know that you guys don’t always want to talk to teachers and school administrators about what’s going on in your personal life but, Peter, we’re here if you need it okay?”

Peter nodded, a little dumbly, his tongue too thick and dry to form words. He felt dizzy – he was turning in failing work in more than one class? “I uh…,” he cleared his throat and tried to wet his mouth, “I guess I have been a little… distracted recently but I’m okay,” he said and tried to hide his flinch at how unconvincing his voice sounded. He was fine right? “I’m sorry about the work, I know I can’t make up the test grade but is there any… uh… any extra credit I can do? I’ll do anything!”

“It’s alright,” Harrington said, picking the folder back up and standing. “I’m going to let you retake the test on Monday and if you write an analysis of what was wrong with your essay and correct the issues I’ll regrade it, same with the project. You’ll need to have them both to me Monday morning I can’t offer more than a ‘B’ on any of them but it should help your grade and make sure you don’t lose your scholarship.”

Peter felt like someone had ripped the floor out from under him and he had to grip the desk tightly. “My scholarship,” he whispered horrified and Harrington gave him a guilty look.

“You’ll have to speak with your other teachers on Monday about extra credit and make-up work but I believe all of them will be willing to help out,” Harrington passed the folder back to Peter who took it with numb and trembling fingers. “It’ll be fine Peter.”

“Right,” he said, feeling like he was underwater and standing shakily. “Thanks Mr. Harrington, I’ll go work on these now.” He never heard the man respond nor did he remember much of his walk home, the next thing he was aware of was standing in his room, his hoodie a little damp from the mist that had descended on the city and the barely-there drizzle that had started. Peter dropped his bag with a thump to the floor and collapsed into his desk chair.

He had work to do and he did so at an absolutely feverish pace. Reading back through his paper he had no idea how he had thought it was even marginally acceptable to turn in. He hadn’t even bothered looking at his project yet but he knew that it would look the much the same and he could already feel his gut twisting into tight knots as he considered the work he would be putting into it over the rest of the weekend.

By the time he had finished, his eyes were dry and crusty and the rain was pounding in earnest against his bedroom window; the only light coming from his desk lamp and the flickering streetlight outside his window. He sat back and blinked furiously, staring at the window with his eyes blurring in and out of focus. He could feel his heart speed up and shook his head once, hard, before jumping from his seat and stripping out of his clothes to pull on his suit.

“Hello Peter,” Karen said brightly as his HUD flickered and readings started to populate. “It is past-,”

“Mute Karen,” Peter said, voice croaking and shaky as he popped his fingers and neck. “Disable HUD and go dark.” It wasn’t often that he shut down his entire suit and went out the way he used to – just him with no extra tech – but sometimes it (and Karen) did effect his senses. And sometimes, like tonight, he just needed the silence.

He opened up his window, reveling in the cool air that creeped into his room and the drops of rain that stuck against his limbs like ice cubes. He paused for just a moment before firing a web through the fog to latch onto the building across the street, swinging out into the weather.

As he took slow laps around Queens, he let his mind drift and his body to just run on complete auto-pilot. He rarely saw any sort of major crime in rain and fog like this and his Spider Sense was quiet in his mind as he swung. Without Karen active and with his suit dark, he didn’t have his heater or GPS or access to his phone or the police scanner but he was fine with all of that. Content to just swing until he couldn’t.

The ‘until he couldn’t’ came a lot soon than he thought, his numb finger slipping on a web and sending him careening onto the top of a building where he rolled and ended up on his back, staring up at the moonless and starless night sky and the thick drops of rain. He laid there for just a moment longer, stunned and taking stock, but nothing hurt too much, he just felt detached.

With no small effort, Peter sat up and scooted over to sit with his back against the roof access, staring out over Queens but unable to see more than a few hundred feet ahead of him. His eyes unfocused and he felt his mind slowing down – blank and quiet finally.

“Do you know what time it is?” His mentor’s voice should have surprised him but, even drifting off the way he was, it was impossible to not hear the loud repulsers of the Iron Man armor. He touched down on the roof to the left of Peter and his face plate shifted up, keeping him dry from the rain but reveling his face that was a mix of disapproving and concerned. Peter just shrugged.

“Sorry,” he said, voice hoarse and monotonous in the gloom. Tony furrowed his brows at him.

“You good kiddo?”

“Sure,” Peter said, looking out over the roof top again. “Fine.”

“Right,” Tony said, his voice disbelieving. “Well its past your curfew buddy and you’re completely soaked. You okay with me giving you a lift home?” Peter nodded without consideration. He was cold and he couldn’t really feel his fingertips – getting a ride home on the Iron Man express was definitely preferable than walking. “Hop on then,” Tony motioned to his back as he turned and, after a moment to psych himself up for it, Peter stood slowly and wrapped his arms around Tony’s neck.

The armor was warm and the flaps prevented Peter from getting pestered by too many of the remaining raindrops on their flight. He let his eyes slip closed as they flew, content to drift, which he realized was a mistake when he opened them a few minutes later and realized Tony had taken them to the Tower instead. “This isn’t my apartment,” he said, dropping down to land on the over-large balcony of the penthouse so that Tony could step out of the armor.

“Nope,” he agreed, shuffling Peter inside and carefully pulling his mask over his face and dropping a towel around his shoulders. “You’re staying here tonight – I know May’s working third.”

The water dripping from his damp hair onto his neck made him shiver but Peter made no move to dry off with the towel – standing just inside the entrance to the penthouse and staring ahead at his mentor who clucked his tongue and started to dry Peter’s hair off himself. “What’s going on Pete?” He asked as he rubbed the terry cloth through Peter’s curls. “This isn’t you.”

“Nothing,” Peter said, his voice sounding emotionless, “I’m fine.”

The look Tony leveled him with was that of pure disbelief but he herded Peter toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “Go take a warm shower and change. I’ll make some hot chocolate and meet you in the living room when you’re done.”

Peter nodded his assent and made his way toward his en suite bathroom. The Spidey suit was sticking wetly to his clammy skin and it took some doing to get out of it but it was worth it to slip into the fancy shower his room at the Tower offered. He stood for an untold amount of time under the burning spray of water and felt the tension leave his body, his emotions swirling confusingly in his head and leaving him nearly dizzy. Deciding he couldn’t put it off any longer, Peter grabbed the towel from the heated rack and dried off, slipping into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie before making it back to the living room.

In his time away, Tony had made one of the only things he could in the kitchen: hot chocolate from scratch (a recipe from Rhodey and his college years) and was settled on the overly large couch with a pile of throw blankets. Peter sank into the nest and wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, accepting the mug his mentor offered and taking a sip of the steaming drink.

“Alright out with it,” Tony said, sitting to face Peter, the expression on his face open. “Something’s going on buddy but you can tell me okay?”

“It’s October thirteenth,” Peter blurted before biting his lip.

“October thirteenth?” Tony asked with a furrowed brow. “What…?”

“Uncle Ben died a year ago,” Peter whispered, curling up further into himself. From next to him Tony let out a sigh of air.

“Oh kiddo,” he said, voice sad and filled with understanding. Peter sniffed once and felt a hot tear leak down his cheek. He didn’t bother wiping it away. “There’s… not really anything that I can say that will make it better,” Tony said as he scooted closer and sat his mug of coffee on the table in front of them. “I know that from experience but, if you ever want to talk about him you can always come to me.”

Peter nodded once and was surprised when, just a moment later, Tony reached out and pulled Peter tightly into his side in a hug. Peter’s mind went blank for a moment and then he felt his eyes well with tears that fell in silent waves down his cheeks. He had felt so overwhelmed, so underwater for weeks leading up to this day and he just…

“Let it out buddy,” tony said, pulling him in tighter and running calloused fingers through Peter’s still-damp hair. “It’s alright.”

With that permission, Peter turned himself more fully into his mentor, curling himself in tighter and letting his eyes cry themselves out.

It felt like catharsis.

[if-you-built-yourself-a-myth]

Check Ignition: Part II

The Sobbe fake-dating Hogwarts AU that one person asked for and I dove into headfirst.

Part I // Part II // Part III // Part IV

Requests are open if you have any ideas of what I should write next!

Moyo thought the situation was hilarious. “Dude,” he said, between fits of uncontrollable laughter. “You’re never going to get any pussy ever again. Oh my gosh.” He doubled over in front of the fireplace, clutching his stomach as if it would burst. As a Gryffindor, he shouldn’t be in the Hufflepuff common room at all, and neither should Zoë (a Ravenclaw). Zoë got permission because her boyfriend, Senne, was Head Boy. Moyo slipped under the radar because he never wore his tie around campus.

Aaron too had his concerns for Robbe’s love life. “Does it count as cheating? Amber said that Noor—”

“He just kissed you?” Zoë sat forward on the couch. “Just like that? No asking, or—”

Moyo cut back in. “You will never feel the sweet, sweet touch of a woman. The virgin Robbe.”

“Boys, boys,” said Jens, ever the peacemaker, ever Robbe’s protector. “Uh, and girl. We are solving the crisis, not bringing up new ones.” He gestured to Robbe. “You have the floor, my friend. What do you need from us?”

“I, uh—” Robbe began.

It had been Jens’s idea to tell Moyo and Aaron in the morning. Zoë just happened to be waiting around for Senne to come out of the dormitories at the same time. The Hufflepuff common room featured two tables on either side of the fireplace, each surrounded by four straight-backed chairs. One couch faced the fireplace, and right now, Aaron, Jens, and Zoë had claimed it for themselves. With all the prime real estate taken, none of the other students stuck around.

Plus, it was early, before breakfast and morning classes.

“Go ahead,” said Jens.

Robbe didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what Sander expected to get from the arrangement, either. What he knew:

1. Sander kissed him to get Britt off his back.

2. Sander referred to him as a boyfriend rather than a hookup.

3. Sander knew he wanted to get Noor to leave him alone.

What he didn’t know:

1. Did Sander want them to fake date?

2. Was it just a one-time thing?

He wasn’t a big fan of not knowing all the specifics. It was hard enough to trample down the feeling blossoming in his chest when he thought of kissing Sander again.

“I—I need—” What did he need? He needed to talk to Sander. They didn’t share any classes, nor were there any Hogsmede visits coming up in the near future. Robbe sure as hell wasn’t going to patrol down near the dungeons, even if Jana came with him, because they smelled like mildew and he didn’t want to run into anyone besides Sander. He decided on a placeholder for now. “I need you to go along with it. If Noor asks.”

“Go along with it?” Moyo repeated.

“Yeah, go along with it. Corroborate the story.”

“No. Absolutely not.” Moyo crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not lying to a girl. Especially not a pretty one.”

Aaron nodded along. “That’s messed up.”

“You’re not going to earn any points by not,” said Jens. Thank goodness for Jens.

“It is a bit cruel, isn’t it?” said Zoë. “Tell her you’re not interested if you’re not interested. It’s an asshole move to drag someone else into it.”

They dissolved into cacophony, talking over one another without regard for volume. It reminded Robbe of last night’s music. He’d meant to ask the boys if anyone had heard anything from the astronomy tower last night (had Sander made a bubble at all?), but he hadn’t gotten the chance when Jens opened with “Sander told everyone he and Robbe are dating so Britt and Noor will leave them alone.”

“And she’s going to find out,” said Moyo. “Girls know everything. Imagine how that’ll feel—Robbe hates you so much he’d rather be gay than snog you. It’s not fair.”

Zoë pointed at Moyo to emphasize his point. “I’m surprised to hear such a rational take from you.”

“I don’t hate her!” Robbe felt the need to step in and defend his honor. “I already told her I’m not interested. She keeps circling back around, and I’m tired.” In truth, he hadn’t said anything explicit. She should understand his apathy by the way he never took her coat or offered to walk her back to her common room. Perhaps that made him a bad person. “Look, this won’t be forever. We’ll give it a week and we’ll break up and everything will go back to normal.”

Moyo laughed without humor. “Yeah, minus any chance of ever having sex with a girl ever again.”

“You had to ruin it,” said Zoë. “Bad take.”

“Okay, but after the whole thing last night, Noor’s gonna be depressed no matter what,” Jens said. “You tell her that last night was for Sander, and she’s going to be all over you again. You tell her it was so both of you could avoid both of them, and now she’s just as upset as she would be with the fake-dating. It makes more sense to go along, fake a breakup, and let the whole thing fizzle. No one gets hurt.”

The others considered this analysis. Robbe took to pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace. He really didn’t want Noor to get hurt in all of this—did he?—but the allure of having her leave him alone was too great to pass up. And she’d be hurt if he told her flat-out, so wouldn’t this roundabout way be better? Yes, Jens was right. Aaron, Zoë, Moyo, and Jens gathered together in a makeshift huddle to deliberate the issue like committee.

Robbe pretended not to hear their animated whispers. He caught bits and pieces.

“Noor is kind of annoying—”

“What’s done is done, isn’t it?”

“—something an asshole would do. Remember when Jana—”

“I would never—”

The giant clock on the wall above the exit read seven. Breakfast would be ready in the Great Hall any minute now, and they’d need to hurry if they wanted to eat in time for History of Magic. Any later than seven-fifteen and Noor would be downstairs, too.

“It’s agreed, then,” announced Jens. He stood up and adjusted his tie. “We play along. Robbe and Sander five-ever. C’mon, boys, class.”

Moyo and Aaron grumbled to themselves, but they followed Jens to the portrait on the wall and slipped through with Robbe at their heels.

***

The walk to the Potions classroom felt longer than ever before. It was the first class of the day that Robbe didn’t share with one of his friends, because Moyo and Aaron were shit at following instructions and Jens had never created anything that worked. They barely mustered satisfactory grades last year. Robbe was a rule-follower. That’s why he was a prefect, and that’s why he could make a damn good Wolfsbane potion.

“Hello, darling!”

Someone slammed into him from the side, almost knocking his textbook from his hands. Robbe looked up and right at Sander’s perfect face. Sander’s eyes were alight, even in the dim aesthetic of the dungeon hallway. He held an embroidered canvas schoolbag over one shoulder and a wand in his left hand. It was all Robbe could do to not collapse when he slipped his right hand into Robbe’s and squeezed—until Robbe spotted Britt standing at the door to the potions classroom. Her eyes locked on them.

That answered some questions, anyway. Sander wanted whatever this was to continue.

“Where are you headed?” Sander asked. “I’ve got Transfiguration in a half hour, so I’m free to take you wherever. He said the words a lot louder than he needed to.

Robbe shared Potions with Britt. He’d totally forgotten. And he couldn’t possibly go see her, could he? So really, there was only one thing he could say. “Free period. I’m wandering.”

“Lead the way, oh wanderer.”

They walked side-by-side down the corridor, passing in front of the haunted girls’ bathroom and a wall stained by something that looked an awful lot like blood. Sander’s long strides made it difficult for Robbe to keep up; it took two of his steps to match one of Sander’s. He noticed something he hadn’t before—he didn’t make a habit of watching Sander walk when they went out with Britt. Sander kept his chin angled toward the ceiling and seemed to base his gait on the people around him. Faster than everyone else. Even if it took more effort than casual.

“Is this a thing now?” Robbe whispered. He tried to hide the fact that he might be wheezing. “If it shows Noor I’m not changing my mind, I’m still all the way…”

“I’d assumed it would be. Are there going to be rules?”

“Rule number one: you sit detention for the music. I still reported you.”

Sander stopped abruptly; his eyes caught on something down the hallway. “Duck into this bathroom with me,” he said. “Lingering kiss, then bathroom. Cool?”

“Uh, cool,” said Robbe.

The words had barely left his mouth before Sander’s lips were on his, something sweet, soft, and sloppy. Not as good as last night’s. Robbe decided he hadn’t really enjoyed that one, either. It was nerves that made it seem that way. He pulled away first.

It was kind of good, though. Ugh, kind of.

They turned, and Sander dragged Robbe into the bathroom by his wrist. He played the part of lovestruck teenager very well, from the mischievous glint in his eyes to the exaggerated gesture of the dragging. Once inside, he backed Robbe against a sink like they were going to kiss again, hard enough to make a loud clank. Then he withdrew, peeked out the door.

“Saw Noor,” he said, by way of explanation.

“Huh,” said Robbe.

“Is that the kind of stuff you want?”

“Don’t you have Transfiguration?”

Sander dismissed him. “I can cut. More important matters at hand.” He spun around to lean against the sink next to Robbe, who hadn’t moved since he was pushed. The sinks were arranged in a circular formation in the center of the bathroom, accessible from the stalls on either side. A large stained-glass picture of a massive snake glared down at them from the far wall. “What do you want this to entail?”

The porcelain dug into Robbe’s back at an unpleasant angle. He tried to remedy the feeling with a little fidgeting around. “What do you want it to entail?”

“You came to me. Clearly you have ideas. Britt will hate whatever.”

Robbe took a deep breath. “I just want Noor to think I’m in a relationship. So, like, you can do what you think—I mean, what will make her think—”

“Got it, got it.”

The bathroom was suddenly smaller than it felt a second ago. Silence made it even worse. Robbe stared at the floor so that he wouldn’t stare at Sander; he didn’t want to give off the impression that he was enjoying Sander’s company too much. He found himself thinking the same thing he’d been thinking since Sander kissed him yesterday: if only the boys knew, if only the boys knew, if only the boys knew… Which was a fruitless pursuit.

This was an arrangement and the relationship was fake. He wasn’t actually enjoying it.

No need to tell Jens or Moyo or Aaron anything more.

“Okay,” said Sander. “Give it five more minutes here like we’re making out. Then we head to the astronomy tower and we discuss the finer details. Sound like a plan?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.

Sander raised his wand and pointed it at a roll of toilet paper that sat on one of the toilets. The roll transformed into a compact CD player, floated over to their place at the sink, and began to play the same song as the player last night. “Not going to sit here in silence,” he said. The implication was that they wouldn’t talk to each other, Robbe thought. He dug his fingernails into the edges of the sink and counted down from three hundred so that he didn’t notice the veins in Sander’s hands.

They carried the player with them when they left the bathroom, only this time, Robbe could tell that Sander had actually performed some kind of bubble charm on the audio. No one so much as glanced in their direction as they wove their way through the packed hallways. They climbed the stairs to the astronomy tower, keeping to the right, and Robbe was surprised to watch Sander hop up into the little windowsill that Robbe fancied he owned.

“Alright, actual conversation.” Sander folded his legs and sat across from Robbe. “I should know things about you if I’m going to be convincing. And vice versa.”

“I’m a Hufflepuff,” said Robbe. That seemed like enough.

Not for Sander. “Real things. You know, mother’s maiden name, first grade teacher, the name of your first pet…”

Hang on, those questions sounded familiar. “Are you trying to steal my bank account?”

“Ah, so you have one?”

“A muggle one, yes. Not at Gringotts.”

Sander nodded, satisfied. “Me too. I mean, I have one at Gringotts, but it’s got like twenty Galleons in it. Maybe.” He pointed to the compact player. “Muggleborn.”

Robbe was a little startled at this information—Slytherin house favored purebloods, even when not in the midst of a war based on magical purity. Something about the founder and this whole thing with a basilisk.

“You too?” Sander prompted.

“I—uh, no,” Robbe said. “My dad is a wizard, just my mom isn’t, and I live with her during the summer.”

“Hm. What do you like to do in your spare time?”

“I don’t know. I study a lot. And I hang out with my friends, I guess.”

“Who are your friends?”

“Jens, Moyo, Aaron, and the girls. Are you going down a checklist or something?”

Sander laughed self-consciously. It was such a nice sound, holy shit, Robbe could listen to it all day. Sander adjusted his tie and shirt collar. “Forgive me for wanting to know more about you.” Robbe felt something swell in his chest and die when Sander continued, “What if Britt asks for info and I can’t give details? She’ll know something’s up for sure.”

“Yeah, of course,” Robbe ceded. Of course it was about the arrangement, that’s why they were there. Focus, Robbe. “The girls are Jana, Zoë, Amber, Yasmina, and Luca, if you want to write that down. We’re not really close, though. Just me and Jana.”

“Why’s that?”

“Jens is my best friend and Jana dated him for a while.”

“Huh. Committing that to memory.” Sander put his fingertips on his forehead and hummed to the tune of the CD’s song as if he were downloading information. “Okay, it’s there. Anything else?”

Robbe scoured his brain for something interesting about himself that would be helpful for a boyfriend to know. Boyfriend. Fuck. He gave himself a moment to savor the way it sounded in his head. Boyfriend. My boyfriend. There was a crisis there, in that it was so right compared to girlfriend’s wrongness, but he wasn’t going to have that breakdown right now. Boyfriend. Sexuality debates could wait until the whole fake-dating thing was done, because Sander wasn’t an option either way. Oh, but still, boyfriend.

“My favorite food is shrimp. I’m not a fan of reading but I’m okay at studying when Yasmina’s there. I’m a prefect. Is that enough?”

Sande shook his head. “I need something not a lot of people know. Insider knowledge.”

Insider knowledge? There wasn’t much of that in Robbe’s head. He’d been pretty open with everyone, except the maybe liking boys thing, and he wasn’t ready to admit that to himself.

He didn’t like boys.

“I was the one who broke them up,” Robbe confessed. “Jens and Jana, I mean.” He didn’t know why he picked this specific piece of information out of everything in his head; it was just the most available. Maybe it would serve Sander better to know a dark secret. “I told people something I shouldn’t have, so… well, you know. On purpose. I think you should know that.”

Sander squinted at him. “Not a good secret keeper. Okay.”

Yells echoed from the Gryffindor/Slytherin Quidditch match outside, mostly profanity and the occasional creative insult. Robbe was a seeker on the Hufflepuff team, Jens a chaser, and Aaron an alternate beater. They had a game next week, and it would make a lot of sense for Sander to attend, given the circumstances of their relationship… There should be something more to say to each other right now. Sander seemed content to linger in the silence. He rested his head on the brick behind him and looked out across the Great Lake, glimmering in the sunlight.

“When does it end?” said Robbe, at the same time as Sander said, “It’s much nicer up here at night.”

Sander turned from the window. “You first.”

“Oh, no, you can—”

“You first.”

“Uh, okay.” Robbe wrung his hands and wiped them on his pantlegs. “I wanted to know when it ends. The whole fake-dating thing. Like, do we pick a time, or—”

“Oh, I know that. Given it some thought.” Sander ran a perfect hand through his perfect hair. Not perfect—wow, Robbe really had to stop thinking shit like that, about how perfect Sander was. Every time he snuck another glance, there was another little detail that made Sander that much more striking. “Britt will just jump back in the second you’re out of the picture. End of term’s only a month away. She lives too far to follow me home, so I think that’s our best bet.”

A whole month. A whole motherfucking month. Robbe didn’t know if the boys could handle the responsibility of something that lasted that long. He didn’t know if he had it in himself.

“Or until one of us finds someone better,” Sander added.

Maybe not a month.

Not much to say after that.

“My mother is sick,” Robbe tried. The hard-hitting stuff was better material, more trust-building. Yes, Sander could use it against him, but Sander didn’t strike him as that kind of person. “Sick in the head. It’s passed genetically, so if I don’t get it, my kids probably will. Is that enough?”

He took Sander’s lack of response as an affirmative.

Robbe counted to three hundred again on the windowsill before carefully getting down. Sander probably wanted to be left alone with his music, like he’d wanted last night. It would be rude to stick around, Robbe reasoned. And he didn’t have infinite free time. He needed to catch someone from his Potions class to get the notes if he was going to keep his outstanding.

“I’m off,” he announced. “You have detention at five.”

“I’m not sitting for that,” said Sander. Other students began to push their way up the stairs for their astronomy class. “I’m doing you a service.”

“Filch will see you then.”

Robbe headed to the left side of the staircase for the trip down, but Sander reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him into a smooth kiss. Like the lap of a wave on the shore. Robbe didn’t see Britt around. Noor would be her Charms class until five. He cast a passing glance at the students milling around the classroom doors, looking for someone Sander needed to convince.

“That one was for the fans,” said Sander. “I’ll see you at dinner?”

“You’ll see me,” Robbe replied. He had to hide his face on the way to his next class so that Sander didn’t see the blush creeping up his cheeks.

[sleepylevii]

moon’s laugh

ship: rivetra word count: 1.9k warnings: one (1) bad word genre: canon | hurtcomfort/fluff

chile! here’s my first rivetra/first aot in general fic...i just lub them a lot...a lot of u guys asked for established relationship but i lich rally could not get this out of my head i just think it’s SO cute anyways here go:)

The warmth of the open flame that illuminated Petra’s face was the only source of light at the mess hall at this time of night. Even though she knew the moon was awake and based on Gunther’s ever accurate chats that it would be full, the orb had already passed by the sole window to her right side, leaving Petra alone with her pair of candles, one in front and one to her left so that her right hand would not cast a shadow on her work. She didn’t mind the dark, though–with the nighttime always came safety. A moment to herself away from Orou’s teasing and Eld’s chattering was perfectly welcome after a day as long as today has been.

It had started off as an expedition outside of the wall that was continued from the night prior. Due to an injury in her early teens, her lower back was home to lasting pain, and sleeping on the ground, hard–and cold, too, at this time of year–was no help. Without Hange’s specially crafted medicine for her, as she’d forgotten to take it with her before they left, Petra woke up in an uncharacteristically sour mood. Without a titan in sight, the group had traveled relatively far until they’d reached the chosen stopping point to turn around. The mission was only supposed to be a day and a half, a brief expedition to scour which land beyond the wall could be suitable for farming. It was nothing short of a normal expedition until Gunther’s horse spooked and tossed him, leaving Petra bringing his horse home as he rode on Eld’s during the journey home. Hange deduced it as a concussion, though not terribly bad, once they had made it back.

It wasn’t the worst report she’d ever had to write. Levi had begun to task her months ago with writing the reports that would be sent to the king as an update for what his branch of scouts was doing, as Titan activity had been relatively low recently. Really, it had been a general offer–Petra couldn’t yet figure out why Levi didn’t want to do it himself, as he typically liked to be in charge like that–but the others complained about the task, so she took it upon herself to complete it. It’s not like she would pass up on a chance to impress her captain.

For less naive reasons, Petra was very skilled in literary talents. Her older brother taught her to read at a young age, and words kept her company as he left to join the scouts. Now, books were both a painful reminder of what was and a hope to a more peaceful future. She’d scribbled notes in the margins of pages for as long as she could remember–an analysis there, a definition from Alec there, a letter to a friend, her grandmother–all were intertwined in language. Her handwriting was precise at the worst and not unlike a printed sheet of newspaper at the best, and her abilities to describe events and plans were unparalleled within the rest of the scouts, meaning Levi was more than happy to appoint her to accomplish the chore.

However, it did mean that there were nights–like tonight–that she was up far past the sun’s setting, pencil cramped in hand, a cup of tea by her side that has gone cold hours ago. As she finished up her report and scrawled her name at the bottom, Petra folded the sheet of paper in half and secured it with twine, laying it on the table for Erwin to pick up the next morning since he was visiting. She sipped the rest of her tea, blew out the candle, and with lidded eyes, made her way back to her small bedroom.

It was dark, and even though she was tired beyond belief, Petra was sure she knew the path to her own bedroom. Fairly sure.

She rustled around the room for a moment, fatigue exhaling from her quiet grunts as she attempted to cozy herself under the covers. But there was–something?–next to her leg–no, it couldn’t have been anything. Perhaps she’d left her pillows a mess before leaving two days ago. Besides, she wasn’t actively being hurt, so she supposed that whatever the problem was could wait until the next morning.

—

Just because a day was uneventful did not mean that Levi slept well. He wished it could be that way–after knowing all of his scouts were secure in their beds, titans slumbering under the safe eye of moonlight–there he would find peace. But it was not often so, and Levi found himself tossing and turning as per usual that evening.

But such trivialities shouldn’t have ever made their way into the mind of the captain, and he did his best not to entertain them. Covers pulled tight around his chest, Levi did his best to fight off any energy left inside of his busy brain and instead succumb to the sweet embrace of sleep, trying to keep the image of a certain ginger-haired girl out of his head.

Levi wasn’t sure if he was asleep or not by the time he felt a rustling near his back and a weight pull the covers off of him, but he was certainly awake by the time the ordeal in question was over. Normally, he wouldn't have hesitated to react–maybe he was asleep–but he had, and now it was silent.

Brows furrowed, Levi cautiously turned to his left, trying to figure out what had happened while making the least amount of noise and movement possible. To his complete surprise, he found ginger locks messily splayed on the pillow beside him, Petra’s chest gently rising and falling with her breaths. The moonlight cast a soft shadow across her face and for a moment…no. He had to have still been sleeping.

“…Petra?” he murmured, the faintest hint of a whisper leaving his lips. This had to have been a mistake. Petra was sensible, intelligent, and most important, focused on her work. Not him.  Perhaps she’d notice in the morning and skirt off before he awoke, and he wouldn’t say a word about it. Still…sleep hung from his eyes and Levi found it difficult to make a decision. This was what he had wanted for weeks now, was it not? It would be selfish to not wake her, letting her know that she’d made a mistake. But Levi Ackerman was sometimes a selfish person.

He rolled back over, breaths steady, and tried not to think about the girl slumbering next to him, the way her warmth felt in his bed. Goddamn, his brain simmered. You’ll pay for this tomorrow.

—

Petra woke up to sunlight dusting her face, squinting her eyes as she cleared her throat. With the daylight came another exhausting day of trekking through the woods, eyes peeled for roaming titans, and–within moments of opening her eyes, Petra was sure that something was wrong. There was a weight pressed to her side, over her waist, and the morning seemed eerily calm. Slowly, as if a sudden movement could trigger a disaster, she rolled to her side, wincing from the ache in her back. A single night of good sleep would not fix the chronic pain that plagued her. And then–oh, God.

If it was a dream or a nightmare, Petra couldn’t tell which–just that she found herself face to face with none other than her captain, still fast asleep, his arm draped over her side. Petra thought he looked precious asleep, the ever-present scowl gone from his face–but she couldn’t pull herself away from the panic that enveloped her. What happened? Why was the captain in her bed? No…why was she in the captain’s bed? That was even worse. If she moved, would he wake up? Could she crawl out without him noticing? She wished she’d never begun having that silly little crush on him, knowing nothing would ever come of it.

“Petra?”

The captain’s eyes flashed open, squinting in the sunlight as she had just moments before. Frozen, there was nothing she could do except stare at him, his deep grey eyes piercing into hers. “Captain, I–”

“I didn’t think you’d still be here in the morning,” he murmured, face softening.

Lips parted in a semblance of fear, Petra glanced away from his gaze. “I–I’m so sorry, I was–” She pulled herself up with another wince, getting ready to scramble out of the–his–covers–“I was up so late last night; I just, I–” She felt the pressure of Levi’s fingers around her wrist. His grip wasn’t too tight, however, she was sure he could feel her pulse, beating fervently. And then–“You knew I was here last night?” The question seemed to surprise even her, as if she hadn’t quite pieced it together in her brain by the time it spilled out of her mouth.

“I–” Now it was the captain’s turn to flush, lips pursed. “You’d had a long day, I…I felt it would be rude to ask you to leave,” he said. Petra didn’t think he sounded genuine. But, he continued: “I was being an asshole. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

Petra couldn’t focus on anything except for his hands gently tracing patterns on hers, as if he was distracted as well. “You–I’m not, um, uncomfortable,” she forced out, trying to regain her composure. “I just…oh, Levi…I don’t know what to say.” She turned her head to the wall, sucking in a deep breath. After a moment’s silence, she looked at him again, still laying on his pillow. “I should go.”

It was strange to watch his face fall in such a real way. It was not like the grief that gripped him on the battlefield as a plan went wrong, nor the annoyance with his teammates when they argued too much for his liking. No–his face was soft, eyes gentle as they fell from hers to her waist, then the covers. “You don’t have to,” he suddenly said, voice barely louder than a whisper. “I–I hope I’m not being too forward. But it’s still early. You can stay.”

“Oh…” Petra licked her lips. Was this a good idea? She turned back to him, and for the first time noticed a new kind of fear in Levi’s eyes. She felt like she understood, then–he wasn’t upset at her, or embarrassed–just afraid of losing what could have been. Slowly, the faintest of smiles spread across her face, eyes fluttering. This can’t be real. “I…are you sure?”

“Five weeks sure,” Levi admitted, his cheeks coloring.

Petra slid back down under the covers, cozying up into Levi’s open arms with a hint of a giggle on her words. “I’ve got you beat,” she said slyly, eyes fluttering up at him. “Four months,” Petra said, laughing at Levi’s surprised face. “You didn’t know, did you.”

“I…I knew,” Levi said, smirking.

“You did not,” Petra chuckled. “Knowing you…you would have made a move if you did.”

Levi gasped quietly, the blunt of her words surprising him. “I…I suppose you’re right about that.” There was a brief silence between the pair before Levi rolled over, burying his nose into Petra’s hair. “I’m glad you were stubborn enough to stay up late to finish that report.”

[hyunsracha]

some things — kim seungmin

word count: 2.6k

summary: your life with seungmin was full of routines. but some things change.

Some things never change, you assumed.

The cool metal of bleachers was a constant under your thighs, as was the open binder that sat in your lap. The contents of said binder changed with the seasons, but your eyes scanned them the same. The analytical glare you always wore stayed the same, eyes only ever softening when they came into contact with him. 

Him, with his perfectly styled hair, hours of practice barely messing up the strands. Fitted baseball uniform snuggly pressed against his tall frame, beads of sweat forming at the brow. The sounds of his heavy steps on the bleachers were music to your ears as you pulled your attention from the papers in front of you. 

“What are you studying?” He breathed out, accepting the water you offered to him out of habit.

“Cost-benefit analysis.”

“Again?”

“Unfortunately so. A majority of the class failed our last test on it, so we’re doing it again.”

He chuckled, “But you passed, right?”

“94%.” You grumbled down at the paper. You shouldn’t have to relearn things you already knew. But you had familiarized yourself with every part of this course the first week; you weren’t learning anything new at this point. You closed the binder when he cleared his throat.

“Wanna take a trip to Smith’s? On me.” It was always Smith’s, and it was always on him. But that’s just the way the two of you were. Since you were freshmen in high school, 4 years ago. Your father had gotten a job at a firm in a different city, causing you to uproot your entire life just after middle school ended. On your first day in a completely new area, Seungmin saw you eating lunch alone and decided to join you.

“C...Can I sit here?” You remember him saying, pointing a shaky finger to the seat beside you. And you had nodded, forcing yourself to hide an excited smile.

“What’s that?”

“Oh!” You frowned at the heavy book you had placed next to your tray, “It’s a law textbook. My dad is a lawyer, and he wants me to be one, so I have to read all of this stuff.” You didn’t know what you wanted to be yet, but you certainly didn’t want to be a lawyer. You would frankly rather die than argue with strangers in stuffy ties all day long. But apparently, Seungmin did, “I wanna be a lawyer! Can I see it?” You nodded again, pushing the book his way. You allowed yourself to smile once you saw the way his eyes lit up at the words on the pages. 

Seungmin hasn’t left your side since.

Maybe that’s why you fell in love with him years ago. Because he never left your side. Even after you broke each other’s hearts on a set of bleachers identical to the ones you were sitting on now, too young and too dumb to be good for each other, he never left you. 

You forced yourself up, collecting all of your things and putting them in your bag before following Seungmin to his car. You knew how to drive, and you had a car of your own that you bought in high school, but Seungmin’s car was nicer, and he was nice enough to drive you around all the time. You knocked impatiently on the window for Seungmin to unlock the passenger side door, as you always did. And you immediately plugged your phone into the aux once you were seated, as you always did. Full of routines, you and Seungmin. But that’s what worked between the two of you. How could you ever want to do anything different? 

Well…

You watch him while he drives, a playlist of Dean and Day6 songs soft in the background. He drove with one hand, the other resting on the center console, tapping mindlessly. Maybe you did want to do something different. Maybe you wanted to reach out and wrap your fingers around his. Maybe it would feel like it used to.

You shook your head. You already knew you and Seungmin wouldn’t work out. But then, why was your face suddenly red at the mere thought of holding your best friend’s hand?

Smith’s was a small cafe on the outskirts of town. The two of you have had many a study date here. The warm atmosphere mixed with its cheap coffee made it one of your favorite places in town. Bonus points for the cute barista you had made friends with at the beginning of the year. 

“(Name)! Seungmin! My favorite customers! Your regulars, I assume?” The previously mentioned barista chirped. How Jisung could be so cheerful all the time, you didn’t know. But you always appreciated the extra brightness he brought to your days. You made small talk with the boy as Seungmin paid, not failing to notice the brightness of his cheeks and the small sun he drew on your cup, but not your friend’s. You knew Jisung had a bit of a crush on you; he had practically admitted it to you one night when you were studying alone. And you would go for it, honestly, but there was something holding you back.

That something pushed the warm cup of coffee into your hands, tilting his head toward your favorite table. You followed his footsteps, situating yourself in the booth. The two of you always sat here. Same table, same drinks, same boy. And it felt right.

Conversation with Seungmin was always easy. How was class, how was practice, is that one professor still seemingly trying to flunk you? You could flow from topic to topic with the brunet without skipping a beat. This was the purest version of yourself; no schoolwork, fathers, or expectations making you act differently. Seungmin always brought out the real you, and you figured one day you would have to thank him for that.

Some things do change, you discovered.

You looked past Seungmin’s sheepish grin as his words sunk in. 

You were sitting on the bleachers again. This time, your binder was open to a print-out

about personal finance. Seungmin wore the same baseball uniform with the same perfect hair. But this time, something was different. 

Seungmin was telling you about his upcoming date.

It wasn’t the first time either of you had started seeing somebody else, obviously. It had been over two years since you broke up. 

Let’s see...you had dated Hwang Hyunjin junior year. It ended horribly. You also went on a few dates with Lee Minho last semester. And Seungmin had dated Choi Lia that same year. And Shin Ryujin senior year. And Yang Jeongin senior year. None of those relationships ever upset you. Well, except for the breakups. Especially his breakup with Ryujin. That one was messy.

So why did the idea of Seungmin going on a date with someone new make your stomach flip with something besides excitement for your closest friend? But you smiled anyway, shutting your binder firmly, “Tell me about it!”

“Well..” He started rambling about this boy named Felix that he had met in his algebra class. You could see how excited he was in the way his eyes shone and his hands shook. You couldn’t not be happy for him. So you swallowed your unnamed feelings and placed a hand on his shoulder, “You got this, Min. He’s gonna love you.”

And love him, he did. As did you.

You couldn’t be mad, you really couldn’t. Especially not at Felix. He was probably one of the sweetest people you had ever met. 

Seungmin introduced the two of you at Smith’s, at your favorite table. At first, you were upset. How dare someone come and stain the perfect routine you have with Seungmin? But then you got to know the boy, and you understood why Seungmin liked him so much. Felix was a pretty boy with a face full of stars, yet he shone like the sun. You tried to ignore the burn in your chest when you looked down and saw their hands intertwined. 

When Felix left to go to the bathroom, Seungmin turned to you with the brightest smile you had ever seen, “He’s cute, right?”

You forced a laugh from your throat as you nodded, “He really is. I can tell he likes you a lot.” Of course you know what it looked like when someone liked Seungmin. All you had to do was look in a mirror. 

The three of you stayed at your table for a few hours, chatting and giggling until Seungmin said he had to take Felix home. After they waved goodbye, you let out the groan you had been holding for hours, resisting the urge to slam your head on the table. 

You needed a drink. Not alcohol, but hot coffee to warm the coldness inside of you. Approaching the counter, you plaster on a smile, “Hey, Jisung.”

He smiled back, something big and bright and beautiful, “Hey, (Name). The usual?” You nodded in response. As he turned to prepare your drink, he spoke again, “Why do you always get the same thing? Why don’t you try switching it up?”

You hummed. He did have a point, you supposed. You liked your drink, and you liked your table, but sometimes you itched for something new. Seungmin was breaking from your routines. Maybe it was your turn. 

Perching on one of the stools near where Jisung was currently working, you answer him, “I think I will try something new today. I’ll get an iced matcha latte instead. And…” You heaved a sigh. Maybe it was time to move on; start new routines, “...and your number.” 

Some changes are necessary, you’re still learning.

Being with Jisung was good. Jisung was good to you. You felt good around Jisung. He was a perfect gentleman, the type to open doors for you and pull out your chair. He made you laugh, and he was one hell of a kisser.

Seungmin unfortunately had to discover that when you showed up to your spot on the bleachers late one day with messy hair and swollen lips. He just stared at you, an unknown feeling bubbling in his chest. He knew that your appearance was because of Jisung, and he didn’t like it one bit. Maybe he was feeling protective. His best friend was messing around with some barista boy they barely knew. That was it, right? 

He pointed to your neck, clicking his tongue at the purple mark present on your skin, “What is that?”

Your hand followed his finger, face flushing a dark red once you realized, “Shit! Sorry, that was...Jisung...he- yeah.” The collar of your shirt was too low for you to cover it, so you just kept your hand over the spot, unable to make eye contact with the boy in front of you. His eyebrows shot up, and you could see his jaw clench before you, “Okay.” He turned to go back to practice, his break long over. He seemed upset, and you couldn’t help but wonder why. Maybe he was just being protective. But you were an adult, you could handle a hickey or two. You shook your head to rid yourself of the thought, opening your binder once more.

Weeks passed, and you believed you were settling into a new routine. A routine that involved more Jisung than before. Not quite joined at the hip, you and Jisung spent lots of time together. And you always pushed for more. He was so good, so kind, so sweet. But something was missing. So you planned more dates, hoping to light that spark that would start a fire. 

It never came.

On one of those dates, you spilled your guts. You had drank a little too much. You were still conscious, but you were feeling a little loose-lipped. Blame the Desperate Housewives drinking game the two of you were playing. Your guts just so happened to be filled with love and affection for your best friend, as opposed to the boy sitting across from you who looked at you with stars in his eyes. He had only sighed, taking your cup from you and dumping the remnants in the sink.

“You’re not mad?” You had pouted. 

He breathed out a sad chuckle, “No. I sort of expected it. I’ve seen you two interact...I knew I was only a placeholder. It’s okay.”

He walked you home that night and helped you get ready for bed, only leaving after he was sure you were asleep, plugging your phone in in the living room so you didn’t drunkenly text anyone.

You were thinking too much. Thinking too much about a certain boy, which only made you feel more guilty, considering that boy wasn’t the one you broke up with the night before. So you came to your spot on the bleachers. A part of you hoped he would sense you here and come running, wrap you up in his arms and make it all better. But he was probably out with his boyfriend right now. God, you felt so stupid. Falling in love with your best friend again? Not to mention the whole ex-boyfriend thing. Maybe you never stopped. Maybe every time you looked at him and felt your heart rate increase, it wasn’t in a friendly way. You wrapped your arms around yourself. The wind was cold and you were only wearing a thin t-shirt. You should’ve thought about this before running out here, but the bleachers were the only place you wanted to be right now. You couldn’t cry; you weren’t sad enough to cry. Your phone pinged once, twice, three times. No doubt texts from Jisung, probably saying that he wasn’t mad and he would see you at the cafe and you were still friends. 

The sounds of his heavy steps on the bleachers were music to your ears as you pulled your attention from the baseball diamond in front of you. You furrowed your brow, “What are you doing here?”

He took a seat next to you, “I could ask you the same.” He paused, “Felix and I broke up.”

Well, that was surprising. You turned to face him, concern lacing your features. He felt your eyes on him. He always did. “I realized some things and...we just weren’t meant to be.” You wouldn’t pressure him to speak, but you couldn’t help your curiosity. 

“Jisung and I broke up, too.” His head snapped in your direction, making surprised eye contact with you. He reached out, placing a warm palm on your knee. Your skin burned at the touch, like it usually did. “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I realized some things, too.”

“Count of three?”

“Count of three.”

This was a thing the two of you had always done. If you both had news to share, you would say it at the same time, so one piece didn’t overpower the other.

“1...2..3...I still love you-”

“I still love you-”

The wind seemed to suddenly halt its attack on your shivering frame. The two of you stared at each other blankly, your minds taking their time processing each other’s words.

I still love you.

You’re opening your mouth to respond when Seungmin takes the initiative, leaning forward and crashing into your lips, rough and gentle at the same time. Your entire body feels like it’s been set on fire, scalding skin set ablaze by Seungmin’s lips over yours. His hands are on your cheeks, your neck, your waist; anywhere he can grab to pull you closer. This is what he was missing. He liked Felix, but the boy was unable to light a fire inside of him like you did. Powerful yet warming, every movement of his lips was laced with the adoration he had been holding in his heart since you broke up all those years ago.

Some things change for the better. You and Seungmin change for the better. 

[jinxofthecipher]

Scene, Part 2:

It all starts with a small box of chocolates.

Deidara doesn’t notice them at first. Not when he’s busy checking his wallet, making sure they have enough to cover the bill that’s coming. Yep, all good, he thinks, returning to his bowl of rice and eyeing the restaurant once more. They chose a seat in the back corner where it gives an ample view of the place, enough for any missing-nin to be comforted. It’s bustling, more people than the artist has seen in weeks of travel. 

He takes another bite, looks up again and repeats. The straw hat is pulled down low over his face. It does little to hide him, not when he’s wearing his cloak, it’s a dead give-away, especially since the Akatsuki’s started gaining real momentum recently. Even so, the restaurant is so busy that no one seems to take notice, though the few that sit nearby give him wary looks. Everyone else is in their own little worlds, coming and going. Not looking or considering a potential nin in their midst. It’s almost peaceful, a fact that both calms Deidara and makes his hands itch for clay. The mouths click their teeth in agitation and he forces his focus back on the food. 

Bowl now empty, Deidara sits back in the booth, arms crossing as he looks around. Where the hell was Tobi? That idiot had left for the bathroom half an hour ago now! He grinds his teeth casting a look at the half-full bowl across from him. Probably got side-tracked again, that dumbass. He may not abhor him as much as he once had but still, that man knew how to get under his skin with little effort (he can just imagine the future meet up with Kakuzu, telling him all about Tobi’s irritations and the older man would of course sigh before going on to explain Hidan’s newest annoyance which usually ended up being far worse and far more bloody than anything Tobi’s done or probably will do, ever. Deidara can’t picture the other ever killing for enjoyment, he hardly even fought anyways, only evaded.).

There is a brief flicker of worry. Of Tobi possibly coming across someone brave enough to get into an Akatsuki members face. They wouldn’t need too much bravery given Tobi’s natural aura of stupidity; everyone undesterimated his partner, Deidara included which he shouldn’t be, not with all the pieces he’s collected, the suspicians, and just how easy it is to forget and believe Tobi’s just an idiot and nothing else. Either way, there should be no cause for alarm. If Tobi can slip past every attack Deidara has ever thrown at him (and those attacks were mighty powerful, if Deidara said so himself) then he could certainly deal with almost anyone else outside the organization.

So he brushes the thoughts away and digs out the money. He’ll wait, for now, at least, he thinks placing the bills on the table and goes to put the wallet back into the pouch. Blue eyes widen a fraction. Huh? He turns, peering into the pouch. Past the kunai and scrolls, at the very bottom is a small square box. It’s a glossy black, managing to catch the swinging light over Deidara’s head. 

His eyes narrow instantly and he hovers a hand over the box. No chakra signature. No obvious threat . . . the artist considers it a moment before daring to grab and pull it out. 

Pouch and restaurant forgotten, Deidara balances his elbows on the table and runs his fingers over the box before his face. It’s no bigger than a dango box though much wider. A small symbol is etched on top that reads SWEET’S; he recognizes it, a candy store in town that they had passed on the way here. There is also a note taped to the bottom, so securely that, for a second, he thinks it’s just a sticker for the company or price. It’s not and when he realizes this, Deidara digs at the edges with a nail until he’s able to open it. An edge tears, whatever holding it on a bit too good at it’s job but finally, he can read it.

 - Hope you like it - is written in barely legiable scrawl that Deidara doesn’t recognize. His eyebrows raise and, cautious, he looks around the restaurant. No one is looking at him, even the wary ones are focused on their food. Who in their right mind would give him a gift? And someone who doesn’t put a name, not even an initial? Well, perhaps it was an admirer of my art, I must’ve made some impression, he smirks at the possibility, smug.

Still, it’s just one of those cheap boxes of chocolate you can get. The one with a mixture of sweets that are never just chocolate. They’re usually an arrange of flavours ranging from carmel to coconut. And Deidara’s sweet tooth is only for chocolate these days. So, he opens it, fully prepared to just toss the box-only to see another note inside, laying delicately over the six chocolates. 

- Bought five more to give you all the kinds you liked~ -

Deidara stares, not understanding at first. He looks between the paper to the chocolate below and, slowly, realizes that they all look the same. So they’re all-

Going rigid, the artist looks around the place again. More suspicious then ever, his chakra now a mass of pure unadulterated paranoia. The mouths on his hand click, grinding in his tensity. There is no feasable way that anyone could have snuck the box into his bag AND known his preferences of chocolate. Hell, Tobi didn’t even know! 

As if sensing his mood swing and thoughts on him, Deidara sees Tobi skip across the restaurant, waving at one group of people who flinch back at his cloak. “Senpaiiiii,” he whines, hopping into his chair with more energy then Deidara could ever have, “Sorry Tobi took so long!! There was such a lovely person outside the restrooms!”

“He didn’t try and kill you, hm?”

“Nope!” Tobi hums, dipping into thoughtfulness for a second. “Well, maybe? You always try to blow me up sooooo I’m not sure!”

“I’m just keeping you on your toes. At least you dealt with the situation without hassel,” he notes the lack of fear or chakra signatures, if Tobi’s not lying then he did deal with the problem without even raising an alarm. His stomach twists, always feeling off whenever Tobi proves that, yes, he is far more capable then anyone could dream of being. Not that Deidara would ever admit that. And he wasn’t stronger then Deidara! So there. “Anyway, you ever seen this before?” He gives the box a tiny shake, having closed it up again and shoved both notes into his pockets. 

Tobi’s head dips, the hole in his mask leveling with the box as he hmm’s in the back of his throat. A hand reaches out, sliding over the edge and brushing Deidara’s just enough for the blonde to notice before pulling back. The other’s head cocks to the side and, for the millionth time, Deidara wishes he could see the face beneath it. He’ll never understand the odd desire to keep it hidden, unless it’s all just to annoy me, his annoyance grows at the thought. “Well?? I swear Tobi, I’ll-!”

“Oh, Deidara senpai, calmmmmm, please? Deidara’s eye twitches at the demand Tobi's seen ‘em cause he bought ‘em!” The artist’s mouth drops open at the proud declaration. His partner leans back into the booth, almost casual looking as he crosses his arms behind his head. “Did you try any of ‘em?? The owner said they were the best they had!”

Deidara was still reeling, eyes wide as he stared at the other, “you bought them?”

“Uh-huh!”

The artist stares at his partner who’s practically vibrating in his chair, leg swinging like a five year old who has no control of their energy. But what else is new? “Care to explain why? I’ve never told you my favorite chocolate,” he huffs, agitated, crossing his own arms to mirror Tobi’s, “And while you’re at it, explain why you decided to get your buisness partner a . . . a,” he searches for the right word. 

“Present?”

“Yes. Why get me a present?”

“Cause Tobi loves you~” He coos happily, words dripping in glee and Deidara glares at the obvious jest. Still, his chest tightens a fraction. Seeing his partners look of disbelief, Tobi shakes his head, “it’s true! Beleive poor Tobi for once, senpai! And,” he releases his hands from behind his head and leans forward, into Deidara’s space, “you told Tobi whatcha’ liked!”

A single eyebrow rose, “when?”

“Two months ago!” The mask bobs, eager, hands now flat on the table, a little too close to the ones Deidara has laced together on his side. Truly, if he considered all options, it wasn’t impossible that he wouldn’t have told Tobi his preferences but it was one of millions of conversations they’ve had.

“. . . you remember a random conversation we had, two months ago, about that of all things?”

“Of course!”

“I didn’t think you listened to half the things I say.” 

The hands actually do reach his now, attaching onto Deidara’s and giving a firm squeeze as Tobi nods, enthusiastic. “Tobi’s always listening and he always remembers what Deidara senpai says!” He tilts his head, “I promise.” He says, voice lower, full of certainty, and, more importantly, the third person eerily gone. Deidara can’t help feeling uncomfortable at the intensity Tobi is giving him at the moment. The hold on his hands is tight and he can’t tell if it’s a subtle warning or meant to be comforting. Either way, it doesn’t help that he can feel Tobi’s chakra buzzing, it’s the usual thrum but . . . there’s something beneath it. Something darker. Something that brings back questions of why Tobi can dodge every attack, why he was picked last to join the Akatsuki although he’s been around them for much longer. They pull at Deidara’s mind, begging to be put together, to form the rest of the picture. To come to the conclusion that’s been nagging at him for months. 

He should look at them. It all points to something bigger, even without proper analysis. 

But he discards them. No. Tobi is just his idiot of a partner who is just really good at dodging everything, that’s all. Lies, he thinks and ignores.

“So you just ignore all the other advice I give you?”

“As usual!” Tobi exclaims, the smile so obvious in his tone. He senses the change in chakra instantly and stills before yanking his hands back into a shielding display, “wait! No, senpai Tobi meant no disrespect, simply that- please! Think of the restaurant!”

Needless to say, the restaurant almost became a smoking crater; and two weeks later Deidara finds a rose tucked in his pouch, another note stuck to it and he can’t help the smile he gets at his idiot trying so hard.

Part 1: 

 https://jinxofthecipher.tumblr.com/post/638984358996344832/headcanonscene-when-deidara-was-first-told-that