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therhythmafterthesummer · 2 years ago

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I'm the anon who sent the ask about Pack Mum and her frustrations; your version is fucking top notch (I'm just a switchy bitch lol) and let's be real, don't we all need a bit of that in our lives? 😩😩😩 would love to see Chris' version of that too, whatever you write is going to be amazing either way 😍

previous ask for reference

fun fact, i have a handful of drabbles written for these two that have never left my google docs (some of them probably won't, ever), since i use them as practice. for this particular scenario i already had something written, so might as well share it with y'all. please bear with me, this is barely proof read sjkdfhsdkjf

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series, but you don’t really need to read any other instalments to understand/enjoy this one). | Word Count: ~2k. | Warnings: smut | established relationship · pet names · oral [F.&M.Rec] · edging · face sitting/fucking, all that good stuff · spanking

minors do not interact.

> Chris💕🐺: pretty baby > howre u feeling today > ???

< You: hey darling < i’m very meh < but still standing so it’s fine < you?

> Chris💕🐺: im having a really bad day > dont wanna get into details but god i just wanna be home

< You: oh no ): < can i help you in any way?

You saw the ‘Typing…’ text under Chris’ contact name pop up and disappear a few times before he finally replied.

> Chris💕🐺: actually… > maybe > u can say no btw > but > would u sit on my face and let me edge you for a long while when im back home?

< You: how long is a long while?

> Chris💕🐺: a really long while > as much as u can stand it > just wanna dive between ur legs > want to suffocate on your cunt and your thighs baby > so bad > fuck > had to come to hide in the restroom for a bit cuz im so hard rn just thinking about it

You couldn’t help but chuckle. But being honest with yourself, the proposition certainly gave you a similar reaction to Chris’. All you could think about now was having your boyfriend’s tongue between your legs, aided by his lips and his nose to bring you to that sweet, sweet edge over and over again…

Wetness was starting to pool at your centre, your thighs pressed together to ease some of that familiar ache, and you honestly had to make the conscious effort to remember you were still at the office, in a very public space.

Your phone vibrating again in your hand brought you back from your little day dream.

> Chris💕🐺: again > u can totally say no

< You: mmm🤔 < i’d love to sit on my alpha’s handsome face < would you let me grind on it baby?

> Chris💕🐺: fuck… yes > anything as long as u just dont come > not until i tell you to > or until u cant take it anymore > yeah?

< You: yea 😇

> Chris💕🐺: fuck > ure so good to me pretty > seriously > im gonna make u feel so good love > hydrate yourself as much as u can > its gonna be so worth it > love u prettiest

< You: love you babiest

The rest of your workday was honestly a blur. All you could think about was the evening that awaited you. So, when you finally reached home–with your boyfriend nowhere in sight–you simply took a quick shower to get squeaky clean and got yourself into one of his t-shirts to ensure his scent was all over you when he came home.

As soon as Chris made it through the front door he gave you a quick kiss, dropped his belongings wherever, and made a beeline to the bathroom to take a shower–all as he discarded pieces of clothing on the way. A very delightful sight, you’d admit.

Now here you were, laying on the sofa and scrolling on your phone, waiting for him to come out.

The second he’d gotten out of the shower, barely even patting himself dry, with his hair still wet, Chris made his way to you.

Before you could even stand up, he was already hovering over you, kissing you deeply for a moment, only to finally trace a path of kisses to your neck so he could nibble at your pulsepoint.

“Been thinking about you all day, pretty baby”, he mumbled against your skin, licking the area and kissing it after.

“Me too, darling…” A sigh of relief passed your lips, while you all but melted under the attention your boyfriend was providing to your neck. “You got me so wet”, taking a hold of his hand, you guided it to your core, where his fingers traced your folds, spreading your essence with a deep inhale. “So fucking wet just thinking about you, Chris”.

“Fuck…You smell so fucking good…” Burying his face further in the crook of your neck, he sucked on your pulse point, just as he eased two fingers into you, making you moan in surprise as he diligently massaged your walls.

You bared your neck, giving your boyfriend plenty of room for him to paint purple roses on your skin. Holding tightly onto his arms, you couldn’t help but squirm a little when he started to thrust his fingers in and out of you, once he started curling them to hit that sweet spot within your warmth.

“So tight, baby…” Chris mumbled as he eased a third finger into you, making you whine at the delicious stretch. “We don’t fuck for a couple of days and it’s almost like your cunt has forgotten me…”

You shook your head, swallowing the saliva that had pooled in your mouth. “Impossible. She–she knows who she belongs to”.

“Fuck…” Pulling his fingers out of you, he straightened himself. “Come here, beautiful”.

Chris laid down, motioning for you to place each knee next to his head. You did as asked, staring at him between your legs as you lowered yourself, hovering just a bit while he caressed your thighs.

“C’mon, baby”, Chris borderline whined, bringing his hands to your hips and holding you tightly. “Sit”.

“I’m…baby, I don’t wanna crush you”.

This was a common debate when you found yourselves in this situation. Sometimes you didn’t even need to think twice about complying, but, as a heavier person, other times you were a bit unsure. Today was one of those days, clearly. And as usual, your boyfriend was quick to reassure you.

“Babe, we’ve been through this. I’m a fucking animal, remember? All that werewolf thing? You’re not gonna crush me”, he chuckled. “Sit on me, get comfy, and brace yourself, yeah?”

With a deep inhale, you nodded, finally lowering yourself all the way. You couldn’t hold back the gasp that left your mouth as soon as you felt Chris’ tongue make contact with your heat. “Oh–”

His tongue running through your folds, teasing your entrance, licking your clit, sucking on it…Every single one of his motions had tingles of pleasure travelling up and down your spine, had your chest heaving, and quiet whines coming out of your mouth.

Bringing his hands to your thighs, he held you tightly in place, so tight you wondered if you’d see a mark left in the shape of his fingers later–something you were admittedly eager to see. He was groaning a lot, you were moaning a lot, and, in no time, he had reduced you to a whimpering mess.

Maybe it was all that daydreaming you’d been doing after he sent you those texts, maybe it was just how good your boyfriend was at working you up, but you were very quickly getting close to the edge, almost ready to tip over it.

“Baby…Chris, fuck, I’m…close”, your voice quivered a bit, and Chris simply hummed in response, finally slowing his movements.

His hands roamed your body as his tongue flicked your sensitive nub, the pressure was light enough that the signs of your approaching orgasm seemed to be fading away. In all honesty, you weren’t sure if you were going to stand this at all. You’d try, of course, but you realised very quickly how badly you wanted your relief.

Kneading your breasts, Chris simply continued his motions, slowly licking your clit, or dipping his tongue inside of you for a taste. You couldn’t help but roll your hips, trying to get some extra stimulation. And whenever he licked at your entrance, his nose would bump your clit, and it had you pathetically whining as you ground your core on his face.

When Chris finally opened his eyes to look at you, you stared right back.

That stare-off had the fine hairs on the back of your neck standing on end, and you were immediately trapped in that undeniably predator look of his.

It was kind of amusing, how that look seemed to have the complete opposite effect it should have on you. It should’ve made you feel intimidated, scared, but after spending this much time with Chris, after giving yourself to him so many times already, the trust you had in him made it so that stare of his just made you want to be closer to him. It enticed you, it made you shiver, made you wetter, and, right now, just by looking at him, at that utterly primal desire in his eyes, you could feel yourself grow closer to your climax again.

You genuinely couldn’t tell how long you spent right there. You had already lost count of how many times he’d brought you to the edge by the fifth time. Your legs were starting to burn, your lower back hurt, and you suddenly felt like you needed something in your mouth.

“C–Chris”, you tugged on his hair, gasping when he quickened the pace of his tongue. “Baby… Want–”

He squeezed your bum, one butcheek in each hand, surely bruising you with the strength of his grip. It made you dizzy, and you were sure you were dripping all over him by now. He released his hold on one of your buttocks, only to land a harsh smack on it after, urging you to speak, making you shamelessly moan with the action.

Chris hardly ever spanked you–aside from a playful, mild smack here and there. He’d told you before that he felt like he already put your body through so much with everything else, adding that, too, was just unnecessary, and that it could possibly hurt you too much. But, fuck, if the sting felt good whenever he did.

“Need your cock, baby”, you finally sighed, trembling with your upcoming release. Chris gave you a curious look, not stopping his tongue for a second, so you decided to clarify. “In my mouth, Chris. Please…”

Taking a hold of your hips, he lifted you up a bit, enough to talk. “Turn around, pretty”.

Your legs were incredibly unsteady, but you managed to do it, finally laying on Chris with his tongue once again in its rightful place within your warmth.

Saliva pooled in your mouth at the sight of your boyfriend’s cock. Incredibly hard, twitching, and with an impressive pool of pre-cum under his tip where it laid on his lower abdomen. He was clearly enjoying this a lot, and just the sight had you clenching with need..

When you took him in your hand, his thighs jerked a bit, and a moan muffled against your skin as he continued to feast on your cunt. You simply pumped him in your hand, once, twice, relishing just how hard he was.

Wasting no more time, you licked a long stripe from his base to the tip, swirling your tongue around it for good measure. Until, finally, you took him in your mouth, eliciting a shared moan from the both of you.

Chris’ hands dragged up and down your back, kneading your flesh as he went, moaning against your heat whenever you got him deeper into your mouth, whenever your nails dug on his thighs.

All of a sudden, you felt Chris’ hand land harshly on one of your buttocks. The sudden sting made you moan around his length and clench around thin air. He did it again on the other, holding the supple flesh of your bum tightly in his hands right after in an attempt to soothe your skin.

His length popped out of your mouth with a sinful sucking sound. With a hazy mind and a needy cunt, you were speaking before you could think twice about it. “More…”

Chris immediately complied, smacking one of your buttcheeks again, groaning lowly as your moans spilled freely out in the room without his cock in your mouth.

He repeated the motions a handful of times, all while you jerked him to the best of your now compromised motor skills. Your moans got increasingly more desperate the more he spanked you, and your whole body trembled with arousal.

“Pretty…” Chris mumbled, keeping you off of him enough so you could hear him, although you barely could, you were too far gone. “Put my cock back in your mouth, baby. Suck me off, and when I spank you again, you can come. Okay?”

“Okay…”

“Good, good girl”, Chris pulled you back on his mouth, eliciting a shaky moan from your lips.

You did as asked, taking him once again into your mouth and sucking him, rather eagerly, if you might add. Your lips caught on the ridge of his head time and time again, his tongue and his lips focused on your clit, licking and sucking harder and faster by the second, just how he did whenever he wanted you to come, and when you finally felt the sting on your ass again, you could hardly make sense of your surroundings anymore.

Before you knew it, your entire body shook with your release, desperately moaning around Chris’ length as pleasure tears fell from your eyes. It was so much, so intense, and when Chris held the back of your head in place with one of his hands and started to thrust up into your mouth you were sure you had already died and gone to heaven.

It felt like you were coming for an eternity, the sheer intensity of your release had you shaking and squirming in your boyfriend’s hold. The most satisfying part of it all, though, was when you vaguely registered Chris’ warmth flooding your mouth, making you moan once again just at the feel of his cum going down your throat, making you dizzy just by the blissed-out sounds that were coming out of his mouth.

You swallowed it all, sucking on his tip until the very last drop of his release had coated your tongue, and as soon as Chris detached himself from your core, your body slumped, your vision clouded, and a ringing broke free in your ears.

“Baby? Baby, please. Talk to me”, Chris sounded so close. But how could he if your heads were in completely opposite directions?

“Pretty?” You felt his hands on your cheeks, and once you opened your eyes and saw the worried look on his face, you realised you were laying on the sofa, while he was crouching on the floor next to you. When did he move? He was just below you a few seconds ago.

“Did I…Did I pass out?” You blinked at him, reaching for his hand on your face to softly caress the back of it.

“Fuck, you did. For a few seconds. I thought I had choked you to death. Are you okay? I’m so sorry”, he was going into his Protective Alpha mode, and it made you smile.

“I’m fine, baby. Don’t apologise. Give me a kiss”, you did feel a bit lightheaded, but you also felt light all over, as if your crushing orgasm had taken all the tension off of your body completely.

Chris sighed, pecking your lips, your nose, your cheeks, all over your face. “Fuck, give me a second. I’ll bring you some water”.

You simply hummed, stretching your achy limbs and turning on your other side to face the backrest.

When Chris came back, you gulped the glass of water in one go before you gave it back to him so he could place it on the coffee table.

You made grabby hands at him, and he chuckled, laying behind you and pulling you to his chest so he could press kisses on your shoulder.

“That was insane”, you mumbled while you caressed the arm he had wrapped around your waist.

“It was, fuck…I got too carried away, you’re all bruised, love”, his fingers gently traced the curve of your bum, and you leaned into his touch.

“Felt so good, though”, you sighed, content, further pressing your back to his chest. “So good I passed out, baby. That’s a new record”.

Chris giggled, and you couldn’t help but giggle as well.

“Do you feel better?” You asked, snuggling closer, relishing his warmth on your back, his warmth all around you.

“I feel like I won a million euros, a billion dollars, a trillion won…You get the point”, Chris nuzzled your nape, pressing lingering kisses there, all as he brought a hand to your belly to lightly squish your soft flesh. “Honestly just what I needed. For my pretty girlfriend to feel insanely good, and to blow my load in her perfect, warm mouth”.

You chuckled, taking a hold of his hand and bringing it to your lips so you could press a kiss on his palm, right before you turned around in his hold and cupped his cheeks, smiling at him. “I love you”.

“Love you”, he repeated immediately, diving in for a kiss. When he pulled back, he held you tightly, pressing kisses on your cheeks. “You’re so good to me”.

“And you to me, baby”, you mumbled back, kissing him on the cheek before you tucked your head under his chin.

You both laid there for a moment, a moment of just your soft caresses on each other’s exposed skin. Until Chris heaved a satisfied sigh, pulling away from your embrace to stand up from the sofa.

“C’mon, pretty. Time to be pampered and cuddle in the tub”, Chris took you in his arms. A soft chuckle left your lips, and you held onto him, pressing tender kisses on his neck all the way to the bathroom.

figured i’d tag anyone that wants to be tagged in my wereroomies instalments. if you don’t want to be tagged in little ask responses like these let me know !

@222wonnie · @staaa96 · @oiminho · @straylightdream · @starshine-moon · @biribarabiribbaem · @100layersofdaddyissues · @dearalice · @alexis-reads-fics · @xcookiemonsteer · @knowleeknow · @chanlovesme · @liminaldaydream · @sstarryreads · @svngiem · @notastraykid · @princelingperfect · @violetpenguinkris · @leedunno · @peepeepoopooharrie · @aestheticsluut · @skzhomiehopper · @cessixja · @mimzibee · @hipsdofangirl · @djeniryuu · @floatingcoffecup · @minnysproutgriffinteddy · @moonmooncr · @phobia0325 · @leebitsimpracha · @viviixlyy · @casualenthusiastexpert · @kileidoscope · @kpop-bbdoll · @crispytigerearthquake · @meloncremesoda · @amaranth-writing · @fawnpeaks · @dalamjisung

#stray kids supernatural au #stray kids werewolf au #bang chan smut #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan fanfiction #bang chan fic #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #werewolf chan #werewolf bang chan #✨🌙✏#ask #anon #wereroomies ask #wereroomies headcanons

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fictionkinfessions · 1 month ago

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listening to glass animals on loop yearning for Some Guy......... yeag

fuuucking Pesterquest/Friendsim. homestuck/hiveswap. beforus also even tho thats fanmade, my canon is fucked /silly

anyways here's some random thoughts;

charun was so fun where is my buddy

I was not an artist then but i became one. i blame charun AND amisia AND remele but mostly charun.

im going in trollcall order. or at leasy trying to.

tagora was a bitch but he was FUN and had GOOD INTENTIONS PROBABLY. i dont drink coffee anymore but now im making myself wanna try it again

tirona was. certainly someone (i will not write characterhate. daily affirmations.)

skylla gave such good hugs i miss her

I WAS A SOUTHERNER THEN AND I AM A SOUTHERNER NOW SKYLLA WAS HOOOME

konyyl looks intimidating. i promise she is nice.

source; her route in friendsim i forgot the volume name. also me mems.

fozzer. fuck doc scratch.

bronya was my mom. bronya was great. i wanted to bake her cookies.

DIEMEN WAS ALSO GREAT I WANTED TO TAKE HIM TO THE MEAT ISLE OF ANY GROCERY STORE

cirava. i wanted to introduce them to glass animals. genuinely so cool also what. give me ur cool. im lacking.

TYZIAS. MY MOIRAIL. I MISS YOU. SHE WAS SO COOOL :( <>

lynera fucking scared me but she was COOL

vikare. he would be so obsessed with how i have a stepdad that flies airplanes in this life. i would take him to this flightschool

azdaja is fucking funny to just. watch. hes like a bug in a terrarium to me [with love /p]

REMELE KICKS ASS I LOVE HER /p one of The Friends ive ever made. would join in a heist again.

folkyl gets a fucking generator. i dont know if that would work. but i wanted to give her one back then and i still do.

i swear to arceus if i showed kuprum 4chan hed love that shit. immediate;y. HE TYPES LIKE A GREENTEXT TJAT IS HIS TYPING QUIRK i am so tired

zebede. (i will not write characterhate. daily affirmations. part 2.)

amisia i miss you i want to see your art again i can do anything in regards to advice now

also i fucking feel you, girl

daraya. i fucking feel you. i was worried then and i am worried now. i hope u and tyzias stayed friends also

BARZUM AND BAIZLI GAVE ME HEART ATTACKS EVERY FIVE SECONDS BUT I MISS THEM SO BAD. the fuckin goobers. they were so silly i think they should be able to do whatever they want

me too marsti me too. i miss talking abt nothing with her

nihkee was fucking terrifying and the only solace was that i too drank so much milk. not with PROTEIN SHAKES IN IT BUT YOU GET THE POINT.

boldir i had no idea what your deal was in that life but now for some reason you're just like 500% Neater. i dont know why

CHIXIE ONE OF THE FUCKIN "COUNCIL OF BESTIES" CHIXIE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH /p I HOPE YOURE GETTING ON WELL

mallek. this mf is the reason that, after pesterquest memory rememberance, i got snakebite piercings. in cerulean. in other words im fucking gay. matespritcore. I MISS MY WIFE TAILS I MISS HIM A LOT /ref (p.s. i cannot apologize for being weird abt Mallek xoxo)

tegiri I MISS YOUUUUU NUMBER TWO IN THE COUNCIL OF BESTIES. chat everytime i watch anime i remember his fucking face. WHY are you in my HEAD you stinky man /lovingly. i watched kamisama kiss and i think if id watched it in my past life i wouldve showed it to him. pensive emoji. also i was still autistic abt miku back then, and i really wanted to show him vocaloid

elwurd go to therapy /lovingly

MARVUS NUMBER THREE IN THE COUNCIL OF BESTIES. i MISS you you CLOWN. you funny stupid goofy ass rapping CLOWN. i can rap just a little bit and i keep hoping he'd be proud of me. friendship

chahut the Unofficial member of the council. girl i remember having an axe you gave me and i miss that shit I LOOKED SO DUMB HOLDING IT. SHORT ASS PURE WHITE GOBLIN HOLDING AN AXE ABOUT THE SIZE OF MY ENTIRE BODY. THATS WHAT I LOOKED LIKE. i want this energy again. come back and give me an axe COWARD /silly

polypa....... i-have-two-hands-moirailliegance ass situation. tl;dr moirail polyamory. I MISS YOU. i want to sit on a pile of pillows again and ramble about my feelings i cannot describe how bad i miss that. its embarrassing

lanque got grounded for a solid month when we met and i found it fucking hilarious and i still do. me and my new friend who i DEFINITELY did not become friends with because of my MOM. /silly

wanshi HELLOOOO HIIII I MISS YOUUUU :( I MISS SOLDIER PURRBEASTS TOO WE HAD SUCH A FUN BOOK CLUB. reading warrior cats in your honor. watching moonkitti in your stead. etc. etc.

i do not miss zebruh (this dislike does not extend to zebruhs here. hi. he was literally identical to canon in my canon and. i did not fucking like him DKNSLM.)

galekh. im so sorry for the you-know-what-list incident but i was cLUELESS and looking back it is SO FUCKING FUNNY IM SOBBING. you were great i hope you and tagora had a wonderful kissmesisitude idk

i do not miss ardata sort of. yess she locked me in a basement and kinda tortured me but. first friend :(

KARAKO'S TROLLCALL IS JUST "WHO IS THIS?" IM FUCKING CRYING /silly

KARAKO my favorite fucking FREAK. this mf climbed up to my watchtower-hive instead of using the door. this mf scaled FLATT WALLS and I NEVER LEARNED HOW. idek if he can read but i miss him. feral creechur /loving

last but not least; Stelsa. ohmyarceus STELSAAA :(((

emotion.

Stelsa was so fuckin fun she MADE ME GET MY SHIT TOGETHER!!!

so sorry. my shit is not together anymore and it stopped being that way when doc scratch Yoinked my ass... apolocheese.

i try to take care of myself mostly bc Stelsa Would Want Me To shes like the angel on my shoulder /silly

tl;dr um fuck doc scratch i miss my friends and moirails and matesprit :(

~ [#❤️‍🩹💤]

#fictionkinfessions #fictionkin #❤️‍🩹💤#hiveswapkin #karakopierotkin #caps cw #chara love #seekin #ableist language cw #chara hate #food cw #slurs #glass animals cw #mod party cat

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fandomandangstlover · 6 months ago

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ohh!!!! plz I wanna hear about muffineer!!! doez muffin have like a origin or backstory?? also are there other freakz that they like to hang out with?? :3c

MUMBLES THE PYRO ILY /PLATONIC

okay okay yes!! they do!!!! he didn't at first but then ah started thinkin' bout her and... ough...,. beams her with the angst beam

(muffineer uses any & all prns, go ham >:3)

anyways this has Science Party. if ya don't like that, sorry :[

her story is basically that, a Medic & Engineer got together while on the job. i have no idea when, or how, but it happened and they luv eachother very much!!! the Engineer loved to bake a lot and so the Medic ended up learnin' all about it, while eatin' many pastries with them!!!! i dont have a name, or gender, or anything about them other then their story & that the Medic has he/him as (one of?) his prns.

one day, something horrible(haven't figured that out yet) happened and the Engineer was lost, never to be seen again. he's dead, and the Medic was completely ruined. however, he still continued with his project. Singular. there was a project of him & his lover of trying to make a living Pastry, at first it was just Medic trying to surprise his lover with it, but he ended up not being able to do it due to at the time, not knowing much about like. bread & stuff. so when his lover found out, they chuckled and helped him with it. which was how he learns about baking most of the time!! other times are the Engineer rumbling to the Medic about it & him listenin' :3

so this project ended up being like, a coping thing for the doc. he ended up modelin' the Pastry's face after his lover & made it mostly of Muffins, Engie's favourite food. yeah it's uh. copin' mechanism's heavily unhealthy.

however, it came out successful!! Muffineer woke up to his creator, Medic, who am callin' The Baker now, holding her close to his chest & sobbing. not knowing what's going on, Muffin held Baker and simply lays his head on his Creator's own, which makes him sob even more. unknown to the creation, what xe did was something Baker's lover used to do to comfort him.

and so the Baker taught Muffin a lot of things, and did many tests. what can he do? how well can she manage this weapon? what does it like? what class could zx roll as? could they help heal his heart?

one of the things that ended up being apparent was that it could make muffins appear out of thin air. it'll be room temperature & any flavour that she could ever want, but that never seems to matter when he seems to almost know what flavour he would want at any time. one of the things he noticed about his kid creation that whenever he's sad, ey'll bring him muffins. always. and always what flavour he'd like.

Muffineer didn't care when Baker would call her by a name that wasn't hers, nor when he seems to see it as someone else. so long that he's happy, he didn't care if he would call her by his lover's name, nor when he apologises. so long he's happy.

it doesn't try to think about how much he doesn't know about himself, why can't he choose a favourite flavour or why when Baker gave it a gun, it knew immediately how to shoot it, but not what it was. it doesn't know why when his Creator frowns at it, it wants to do nothing more then to wipe it away. why it copies his posture and tone whenever he's around, or why he tries to act like the characters he read & watched.

it doesn't know why it felt so sad when its Creator is there. he's happy, why couldn't it?

she still knows how to bulid things if there's a blueprint, some because it was taught or saw, and some because somehow, he just knew. yes Muffineer has some sort of connection to Baker's lover. like they're reflected in Muffin in some way. no idea how yet, it's just. there.

yes Muffin is also made of Muffin. every part of his body is a different flavor/fillin' & his skin is bread!! kinda like how Piegineer is made of Pie & Cakineer is made of Cake. it'll still feel like skin but when nom'd? blueberry jam :))

oughh... muffin ily sm.

speakin' of Piegineer & Cakineer, Muffineer loves them like idols :DD if they ever met they would probably get along with the fact that they're all pastries. pastry trio... hell yea

his tag has a bit more about him :] so if ya wanna know more, feel free to ask or look through it!!! please,, i must rumble about my ocs... it's been so long.... since last i hear

#my thoughts #plushpyro #tf2 ocs #freak fortress 2 #muffineer #ocs #the unknown world (ocs tag)

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unrealblacklightvirus · 1 year ago

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alex pronoun/gender time (spoilers for prototype 1 & 2)

okay i just want to preface this with. i am not super familiar with lgbtq+ terminology or labels so i apologize in advance if i say something weird or wrong (please correct me if i do! i am.. like an old man but i am willing to learn) but i do wave the trans flag myself :) also note that this my personal headcanon for alex, you are entitled to your own interpretations about alex !! (and i like seeing the differences between them)

alex is torn between his viral nature vs. the man he was. for almost all of his life he had nothing to go off of except his name and the memories of alex others would tell him, like dana or karen parker and so hes lost. lost and trying to find something to ground him, especially when the hivemind is pulling him in all these directions and the people hes consumed fill his mind with memories that arent his .

he wants to hold onto something that he knows is true to alex mercer, he wants to stay as close to the original mercer as he can (barring his douchebag personality) because that is what people percieve as "human"; a pretty bad example of a human, but a human nonetheless. hence, keeping the he/him pronouns because it makes him feel like he is just like them (them being society. he wants to fit in LOL)

he rejects the it/its pronouns (i think it/its pronouns are dope as hell but for my alex it doesnt really fit the characterization i gave him), mainly because its what blackwatch calls him to take away his humanity and treat him more as a weapon more than a person . he hates being called "it", it can really piss him off (and he rarely gets pissed off) .he wants to be more like what society thinks of as a "person's" pronouns?

of course, he is a shapeshifter who can flawlessly mimic other humans who, surprise! use other pronouns than he and him. so when he's in a disguise, he takes on the pronouns of whoever he is at that moment (she/her, they/them, ze/zir, it/its, all the others) without a single shit given. hes just as comfortable with those pronouns as he is with his, when hes shapeshifted.

its when blackwatch knows its alex and still use it/its that ticks him off, although there are some exceptions (like being undercover with someone, being a friend and .not blackwatch, etc). now that i think of it, alex, even when disguised, is still okay with he/him as long as its not in front of blackwatch or people who dont know hes a shapeshifting viral monster who is normally a man but sometimes everything else.

as for actual gender.... hes... i dont know how to describe it. both cis and agender? does that make sense? i headcanon him to be cis, like a cis male (and i think doc mercer too? but i dont really think about him that much) but also being a literal viron that has no gender because it is a virus. which have no gender. and he is no gender and all the genders inside because of the people hes consumed but he is a male??? this is confusing. hes confusing. hes confused. we are both confused.

he knows hes not human and therefore doesnt have to abide with human binaries, but he takes comfort in being a man - a human. in P2, the reason for him becoming Evil is because he manages to go on a international vacation to the places on earth where somehow, only the worst of humanity lives? and he never sees a glimpse of goodness and selflessness and love and joy ever during that whole period? and decides that everyone is just as bad as the worst of the worst and that only the strong (and apparently not evil? even though his actions are literally. Evil??????) shall survive?

what the FUCK, writers.

so i said FUCK YOU and gave this man a unquenchable thirst for life and hope and kindness and curiosity and learning. he will find humanity. he will see the bad but also the good and he will find that humans are not perfect but they are also humans who learn and create and grow and make mistakes! that the world is this grey, not so black and white, that he can make a difference not by some fucked up viral eugenics but by . being good and being helpful and being kind and loving and friendly and a ridiculous viral puppy dog cat thing that makes people laugh and smile.

. i like happy endings. sue me.

#post got derailed at the end because i love talking about happy things #but yeah #gender stuff #pronouns #gender #alex notes #gender identity

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bbrandy2002 · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 117 times in 2022

10 posts created (9%)

107 posts reblogged (91%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@ao719

@burnsoslow

@charlotteg234

@kingliam2019

@dcbbw

I tagged 23 of my posts in 2022

#queued - 9 posts

#the royal romance - 5 posts

#king liam - 5 posts

#liam x mc - 5 posts

#trr - 5 posts

#liam x riley - 5 posts

#bbrandy2002 - 3 posts

#fools rush in - 3 posts

#long post - 2 posts

#choices - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 35 characters

#who says we dont work in the summer

My Top Posts in 2022:

Happy Sunday @charlotteg234

🥵 Enjoy!

13 notes - Posted April 10, 2022

An Apology

Several months ago I accused someone of sending me a hate anon. I've thought about that ordeal from time to time, but even more so recently.

Being in a place in my life where Im not so stressed out anymore or disillusioned by every little thing, Im able to make rational thoughts and think things through a little clearer. Looking back at old messages with someone else, I have a pretty solid feeling I know who actually did send them and thankfully they're not around here any longer.

With that said, when Im wrong, I say Im wrong. And in that instance ... I was wrong. Even if I never said her name publicly, I would like to apologize to @queenrileyrose for my accusations and the hurt you experienced following that. I've already done so privately and the nature of that conversation will remain so.

I can't undo what happened, I can only try to make it right.

Here's to 2022 being about positivity and kindness. Again, my humblest apologies to QRR.

13 notes - Posted January 3, 2022

Happy Birthday to ...me lol

I have to take a moment here to show off these two amazing commissions my bestie @burnsoslow and my great friend @ao719 had done for my birthday.

The first piece by Burns is from her ORDIV Ch 33 when Liam proposed to Riley in the gazebo at Valtoria where the had their first day 🥺🥺🥺

The second one is from Anitah, who used a scene from the fic Burns wrote for my birthday last year Heaven, Hell or Houston when Liam and Riley had met at the bar and when on this whirlwind date, kissing at every stop light 😍

Two of my favorite scenes captured so perfectly and it makes my heart swell so big.

Thank you both so much for these precious works that I will cherish and most likely stare at everyday for weeks to come. I love you both with all my heart and thank you for making another year of getting older a lot more bearable and for your friendship that I value so hard!

59 notes - Posted May 19, 2022

Fools Rush In

Chapter 21

Book: TRR

Pairing: Liam x Riley

Series Premise: With two weeks before he is set to marry Madeleine, the guys throw Liam an impromptu bachelor party that results in him (and Drake) leaving Vegas with more than he bargained for.

Word count: 3900 -ish

Warning: Language

Soooo ... hey lol It's been a hot minute since I've written or posted anything (or just been around in general). Anyway, I came back to several messages asking about this chapter. I actually had 90% of it written back in October and just thought it was pure shit and gave up on it ... actually, I gave up on writing altogether. Having some time this week, I opened up the doc, rewrote some things, deleted out some stuff and finally managed to finish it. It's still not even close to what I wanted it to be, as it's the end of this arc, but I've decided to just have fun writing again. If there's anything Ive learned during my time away it's that none of us will ever write the perfect story, or use the perfect words, or have the most compelling characters and it's okay; I think I finally have accepted that. Just have fun doing it!

This concludes my TedTalk

---------------------------

“Doctor ... Wolfschitz?” a bewildered Alyssa questioned.

“That’s no damn doctor!” Drake bore his eyes into the former prince, who was already howling with laughter, dodging a pillow that whirled in his direction from Drake. “What the actual fuck is your problem, Leo?”

Leo clutched his side, trying to catch his breath. “The look on your face, man … I can't. I really had you going there for a minute didn’t I, Walker? Afraid you were about to lose that new pee-pee, huh?” He continued to laugh riotously at Drake’s expense before his gaze hastily shifted its attention toward Alyssa. “Why’d you blow my cover, thong girl?”

“Thong girl? Alyssa muttered, absentmindedly crossing her legs while attempting to hide the fact her face was quickly glowing bright pink. How’d he know I was wearing one?

“Why are you here, Leo?” Drake repeated as Leo casually strolled up to his bed and scooped up a chocolate pudding cup from Drake’s food tray. “And how in the sam hell did you even know I was in the hospital?

“Came with Liam,” he replied nonchalantly as he plopped his ass down on the end of the bed and peeled off the top of his pudding cup, licking the plastic wrap clean. “He’s down the hall with Riley right now. Seems my little brother is a prized stud after all … got that Rys sperm in him, ya know? Knocked her up real good yo. Hafta say … I’m impressed.”

“Knocked her up?” Alyssa gasped before stepping closer to him. “Hold up; Riley’s pregnant?”

Leo nodded and shoveled a giant heap of pudding into his mouth. “Yeah. I’m going to be an uncle again --” he eyed Drake’s plate contemplatively, “ -- You gonna eat the rest of that meatloaf, man?” Drake scowled and pushed his tray toward the hungry Prince.

Alyssa quickly put all the clues together. “So that’s why Riley was so sick earlier? She didn’t have a concussion, --” she smiled endearingly, “ -- she just had morning sickness. ... Well, is she okay? Is the baby okay? The fall didn’t hurt them, did it?”

Leo, concentrating on finishing the rest of that meatloaf, languidly shrugged. “I dunno.”

“Well, did they at least give her something safe for her back pain yet?” Alyssa probed further.

Leo shoved another large bite of meatloaf and again answered. “I dunno.”

“Oh my God! Do you know anything?” A frustrated Alyssa finally asked.

With a mouthful of food, Leo tilted his head back in deep thought and replied the best he could, “I know this meatloaf is fucking BOMB, dude. Not too shabby for hospital grub.” He swallowed heartily. “The pudding on the other hand … absolute shit.” He tapped the edge of the plastic container with his plastic spoon as he spoke to it, “Snack-Pak, you disappoint me.”

Desperate for an answer, Alyssa reached out and grasped Leo’s shirt, jerking him closer. “Fuck the snack-pak, Wolfshitz; what about Riley?”

“Riley? Oh, she never disappoints me …” Leo sideways glanced with a frown. “Liam on the other hand ...”

Stunned by this strange man’s erratic and seemingly unhinged behavior, Alyssa shot a wide-eyed glare at Drake, who just shook his head slowly. “Don’t try to make sense of him, Alyssa. Just don’t. You’ll never be able to figure him out.”

Needing to be reassured, Alyssa pulled a cell phone from her back pocket and started furiously shooting off a text to Riley. While her back was turned to the men, Drake couldn’t help but notice the way her ass hugged perfectly in those skinny jeans and soon realized his new body part had showed up in tandem with his sudden arousal. With Leo’s interest remaining focused on the damn meatloaf for the time being, Drake eased a hand under the white sheet covering him and felt around the area below his waist; his breath hitched with relief at the rock-solid bulge that had erupted. Feeling a little giddy that everything was working as it should, the euphoria soon subsided when he caught a glimpse of Leo’s saucy gaze on Alyssa.

Overcome with a strong sense of jealousy over the girl he’d just caught sneaking a peek at his naked self less than five minutes ago, Drake quietly urged through gritted teeth, “Stop looking at her like that, Leo! She’s not some conquest you can just sack for your sick playboy pleasures.”

“Says the guy who caught panty crickets from a $2 hooker and needed a dick transplant.” Leo retorted with a smirk. “Besides, father always said, ‘I see it, I like it, I want it, I got it.” He wagged his tongue in lust. “And I see that.” He motioned to Alyssa’s backside.

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73 notes - Posted April 7, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

First Comes Love

Chapter One

Book: The Royal Romance -Complete AU

Pairing:Liam x Riley/Liam x Madeleine (I promise Maddie’s nice here)

A/N: This will most likely be a mini-series; no more than 5 or 6 chapters.This is loosely based on a movie you might recognize but I’ve tried to make it my own.

Series Premise: It's destiny when two people from different worlds meet. Riley is an up-and-coming wedding planner who finds herself tasked with planning the biggest wedding of her career, only to find out the man she fell for after a brief encounter in NYC is the groom ... and a king.

Trigger Warnings: There is a mention of suicidal ideation, but it’s not part of the plot. Some minor language.

Thank you @burnsoslow for pre-reading. All grammar errors are my own.

It’s been so long since I’ve started a new fic, I don’t even know if I have a taglist that isn’t filled with people who have left or hate me now; I guess I’m starting all over again. If you want tagged, let me know.

New York City

Liam zoned out 2.1 seconds after stepping inside a trendy office on the upper floors of a high-rise building in downtown Manhattan. The pale pink shades of the walls, decorative cushions, window scarfing, and gloss on the lips of his future bride, screamed out bottles of Pepto to the new King -- if only he had some to help with the unease in the pit of stomach.

That morning, a meeting with a highly renowned woman was on the agenda, discussing and presenting potential options for his upcoming nuptials, just weeks away. Even under normal circumstances, a wedding wasn’t exactly something that excited Liam. Not that he was never thrilled for the couple and wished them all the happiness in the world, it just held little importance in his day-to-day life. Weddings served as yet another reminder of what he wanted -- and what he couldn't have.

It was amusing to Liam how he could hold so much power, yet wielded none of it for himself.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

The owner of this particular firm, Jill Gordon, had built quite the reputation as the elite among modern event design, planning, and production companies, with a specialty in weddings. The clientele included a long list of celebrities, politicians, affluent Manhattan debutantes, and occasionally acquired foreign business. The latter is how Madeleine first heard of The Jill Gordon Company while attending the French Ambassador's ceremony several months ago as a representative for Cordonia. With the last stop of their engagement tour in New York City, the future queen was eager to add a visit to her appointment book before they returned home and began the laborious task of planning the biggest wedding in Cordonian history.

Although the palace had more than their fair share of staff with experience hosting monumental events, such as balls, state dinners, and various celebrations, there hadn’t been a royal wedding there in over 20 years. Madeleine thought someone with experience handling grand-scale weddings with a sophisticated flair, who could share their vision and expertise with the staff and take charge of the arrangements, would guarantee everything went off without a hitch.

The King simply went along to get along.

Madeleine and Liam sat across from Jill at her glass-top desk, where a single, lone laptop sat catty-corner on top. While the owner enthused and embellished her business to an attentive Madeleine, Liam focused on the assemblage of black-and-white portraits meticulously placed in neat rows along the wall behind the woman’s desk. It was no doubt a deliberate focal point to showcase the clients her agency had done work for in the past. Maybe others who had previously sat in the same chair he sat in at that moment were charmed with the love and joy captured in each of those images; the twinge in Liam’s heart wasn’t buying into it.

After a lengthy social season and with a lot of pressure from his father and the council, he’d chosen Madeleine to become his queen. At first, he couldn’t stand her -- Hell, maybe he never could. She was pretentious, overbearing, cunning, and frequently insensitive. But somewhere between his coronation and the beginning of the tour, she changed almost as if overnight. At that first stop in Fydelia, he noticed a more relaxed, more thoughtful, and just easier to be around Madeleine. It’s possible she’d finally gotten the coveted prize she had obsessed over long before being dumped after Leo abdicated and could put aside some of that anxiety that brought out the worst in her. But to Liam, it seemed to be a little something more: either the Countess had come to her senses about her standoffish behavior, or maybe it was this new business venture Hana and Rashad talked her into, causing a distraction for the Countess.

Whatever it was, was a welcome change. Liam had grown to respect her, find some common ground, and put away some of that overwhelming dread about spending the rest of his life with her. And while it was no secret between the two that there wasn’t more than friendly affection, duty made no exceptions when it came to their obligation.

For both of them, that's precisely what this was. Now it was time to make the best of it and move forward.

Jill sat forward in her swivel chair with a warm smile. Her hands splayed on the glass top as she spoke in a refined tone. “I have the perfect person in mind to handle such an important wedding, as yours… that is if you choose to go with us.” Jill quickly added, not wanting to scare them off with too much pressure, too soon. She knew adding a royal wedding to her list would attract mass attention in the press and social circles for her business, which meant huge profits.

“Really?” Madeleine crowed, glancing over at Liam, who promptly brandished an over-enthused smile before she turned her attention back to Jill. “Tell us more about her.”

“Elaine has over twenty-three years of experience and is the best in this business, and has served most of our biggest named clients. She recently planned the President’s granddaughter’s wedding.” Jill boasted.

“I heard of that one …” Madeleine swooned before adding, “glamorous, yet sophisticated and classy, which is exactly what we’re looking for. Would she have time to meet with us now?”

Jill frowned. “I apologize, but she’s actually booked for the day, preparing for another wedding this evening. A busy lady that one is. Let me see what her calendar looks like.” She moved the mouse beside her laptop around and clicked a few times, pausing momentarily to scan the screen. “She’s free in the morning if you’re able to return then.”

Liam, who had been studying the glass wall that separated Jill’s office from the reception area and wondering why in the hell anyone would want to be watched while they worked, finally contributed to the discussion for the first time since walking in. “We’re actually leaving first thing in the morning.”

“Not until 9:30,” Madeleine hastily clarified. She continued cheerfully, “Tonight marks the official end of our engagement tour, and we’re wrapping up with a celebration in Midtown. We fly out tomorrow.”

“That's wonderful!" Jill replied. "Perhaps the two of you can stop in before your flight in the morning and meet Elaine personally and see if we can work out an agreement. I don’t think you’ll regret it,” she trilled, able to conceal the shameless desperation behind her words like a true professional.

Well schooled in body language and tone, Liam smirked to himself, able to hear it anyway.

See the full post

119 notes - Posted January 2, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

6 notes · View notes

chaniiverse · 3 months ago

Text

Moments to save from act 1:

For just a moment, you dare envy Chanhee, who despite being dressed beautifully in a dark red suit and a button down open far too low to be subtle, can at least breathe without feeling suffocated.

One word. Hot. The way the first look to come in my mind was his AAA black outfit (I love for that post of his)

“And Chanhee, still gorgeous,”

Ikr. The only thing I would ever agree with something Juyo said in this

“It’s Changmin,” he snarls back, and the way he says it makes you straighten your posture. You don’t actually think you’ve really heard his voice before, but there’s a certain dominance in the way he says his name to you that makes you still, “maybe try that, if you want my attention.”

HES SO SASSY. WE LOVE IT

“Well, you see, most people work for the things they get. I can send you a few job openings if you’d like?”

My honest reaction because he’s just so sassy

“Then don’t be fucking stupid.”

Again. Hot.

the fact that he was frustrating, a little bit too pretty and apparently smart. Two of those, you didn’t really care for.

HEY HES VERY PRETTY THANK U VERY MUCH 😾😾

“she gives me a headache anyway.”

Okay rude 😭😾

“You bumped into me,” you’re about to protest but he comes closer to you, looking at your stained piece of clothing and then back up at you, “darling, you love to run your mouth on your riches, so put them to use.”

ATOP WUTH THE NICKNAMES JICHANG FUDHNHYFVHJ

“what? Not good enough for the little doll?

THE NICKBAME IS MAKING ME WANY TI DROWN MYSELF. NEVEF THOUGHT I’D GROW A LIKING TOWARDS SKMEONE CALLINV ME DOLL

Chanhee loved her. She liked him, though. A lot more than you. She tolerated you, you supposed.

Love it when cats love Chanhee more than their actual owners 🥰

“I wonder what his cock is like…” Chanhee nearly spits his wine back out.

DHDJDJDDJ THIS WAS HONESTLY SO SUDDEN (I might have read this already in the doc you sent long ago but I am not too sure so I cackled when I saw Chanhee’s reaction)

Honestly, any drunker and you might’ve just asked Chanhee. You did not just think about fucking your best friend.

I wouldn’t certainly mind

“Call your precious Juju,” Chanhee answers

Channie you 😭

Why couldn’t you so effortlessly, even in a drug-induced tipsy state, look so beautiful?

Exactly my question. Chanhee is so effortlessly beautiful that it’s embarrassing for me to exist because of how I look

“Go to sleep, seriously,” Chanhee mumbles, a little slurred but sweet as his leg drapes over your thigh. He wasn’t very affectionate usually, but the moments in which your best friend would reach to hold you like this, were moments you cherished. For you knew them to be rare, and whilst you weren’t very big on affection yourself, from him it was different. Because you knew that when he gave it to you, when Chanhee loved you with such tenderness, it was because he truly felt like it was needed.

Best friend Chanhee is something I need at this point so that I can have a breakdown and he’d there to comfort me

“Little doll,”

🥴😵‍💫🥴😵‍💫 okay but…*sigh* he’s hot…

“Get your talon claws off me- ouch!”

😭😭😭😭😭

“She knows her thanks. How endearing of you, doll,” doll

NOT HER YET AGAIN BEING A PUFDLE (but same.)

“So it’s not just me that you’re a tyrannical bitch to?” Chanhee coughed back a laugh, hiding the smile behind his hand and you felt ganged up on.

DONT LAUFH CHANNIE SJSJSJSJS EVEN THO IYS TRUE SIDIDID (but so cute how he defended her immediately after)

“You’re right. I’m sorry little doll. Bring me that hoodie tomorrow, and I’ll see what the fairy godmother can whip up for me,”

STOPDJSJSJSJS. CHANGMIN IS SO FUNNY 😭. Love his conversation with the reader so much although she’s acting like a bitch

You get up before Chanhee can finish, unbeknownst to you, hurting his feelings in the process because as rude as he knew you to sometimes be, you never acted this way towards him. You loved Chanhee, you were mostly kind to him, but suddenly something cracked in a mirror and he started to see that maybe you weren’t exactly all that he’d made you to be in his mind. Maybe you weren’t perfect

NAUR CHANHEE. PLZ DONT GET HURT BECAUSE OF THAT STUPID GIRL SJSJSJS. BITCH APOLOGISE TO MY BABY RN 😾. Don’t you dare hurt my baby again Y/N or else it’s you and me‼️

“Don’t touch her like that!”

The way I also teared up when Chanhee (and Hyunjae) stood by Y/N’s side when Juyo was being fucking aggressive 😭😔

Reader the whole chapter lowkey:

babydoll || ji changmin || act i

↳ Changmin isn’t popular nor is he rich, whereas you run on the other end of the spectrum, spoilt and living on your dads credit card. when you’re tasked with kicking him out of the biggest party of your year, you come to realise he’s not all that bad. unfortunately, falling in love with the ji changmin is your one way ticket to social suicide.

↳ pairing: ji changmin x female reader + ex lee juyeon x female reader

!!! this is not a love triangle !!!

~ rating: NC-17 minors please do not interact with this work

↳ genre: enemies to acquaintances to reluctant friends to lovers, slowburn, drama, angst, happy end but it takes a long ass time, rich girl broke ass uni boy

~ warnings: everyone kinda sucks, reader is a pain to deal with, alcohol, sex while on drugs, sex while intoxicated (consensual), condom where?, use of whore, degradation kinda, the classism is strong in this one, implications of eating disorder, body issues, body modifications (nipple piercings), changmin is basically a chainsmoker but we love him, cocaine is common, so is imported wine, swearing, juyeon is toxic, emotional abuse, manipulation (?), moaning the wrong name, bullying, pet names (little doll, doll, darling, princess), good girl, oral (male recieving), spanking if you squint, taller reader with long hair, is anyone redeemable?

everyone is an adult in their 20s

!!! if I missed anything or I remember something else I will add it !!!

↳ words: 14,838

a/n: this is a month late, i know. changmin broke my computer, it's simply not my fault, thanks.

I have said this previously but I will be stating this every chapter. There are some specific physical attributes to this reader which I usually avoid doing but for the story itself it was necessary.

Also, please note that the warnings are applicable to the chapter in question, not necessarily the whole story. You can find all the warnings on the masterlist to babydoll.

let me know if you wanna be on the taglist 🩵

babydoll playlist || teaser

You huff in frustration in your desperate attempts at wriggling yourself into your custom made corset without accidentally dragging the jewelry adorning your nipples with you, for the pain would be hell and you cannot be dealing with any of that on such an important night.

“Why do you still squeeze yourself into clothes that don’t fit?”

“It does fit,” your best friend raises his eyebrows, coming over to you and completely unbothered by your bare chest. He’s seen you naked before, and whilst there were many rumours of you and Chanhee being an item, you both laughed at the absurdity and simply played into it when you felt like stirring some trouble, “it has to be tight.”

“You can barely get it on,” but you let him take over, covering your chest with his own fingers as he tugs the moss coloured fabric over, until he’s sure your piercings are out of danger. You thank him and proceed to tug the rest down yourself, adjusting it so that your chest lifts further, creating the illusion of far more cleavage than you actually have, “looks good though.”

“I know,” he rolls his eyes, taking the white string of the corset between his fingers at your back, “how tight?”

“Break my ribs tight,” you’re yanked back with force into his chest, making you yelp though you ignore the pressure created on your body for the sake of beauty. For just a moment, you dare envy Chanhee, who despite being dressed beautifully in a dark red suit and a button down open far too low to be subtle, can at least breathe without feeling suffocated.

“You worry me,” and it’s genuine. His voice is sincere and it’s incredibly off putting, for you don’t do well with sincerity, nor do you do well with anything that isn’t bragging within your social circle to raise yourself above everyone else.

Out of all your friends, of which you had many, Chanhee was really the only one that you let yourself be true to, but the truth to who you were rarely came to light even for him. You hide yourself away, in favour of a rather stoic and icy personality, for it was so much easier to display power in arrogance than in empathy.

“Don’t. It’ll give you wrinkles,” he laughs, finishing up with a neat bow of the satin string down the centre of your back, your leather black shorts high on your waist and heels just above your knees. You looked good, lips stained a perfect red and eyeliner dangerously sharp with glitter over your eyelids.

Perfect.

“How do I look?” though you only expected one answer, one he gave you without missing a beat because Chanhee always knew exactly what you wanted to hear.

“Sexy as hell.”

The party is in full swing by the time you arrive. You never liked to be early, and arriving at the time given was what you considered to be a rather pathetic display of having nothing better to do beforehand. If anything, being late was being perfectly on time. You didn't care who might find it rude.

Your driver had taken a rather long and unnecessary detour upon your request so that you and Chanhee could down shots in the back of the SUV, a mess of small glass bottles littered across the floor that you’d pay someone to clean before your father ever found out. You didn’t care much for the damage you caused, mainly because there was never any repercussion for your actions.

The dents in your favourite credit card wasn’t even in your name, nor was the chaos you caused enough to cause much money to be lost. Your father allowed you to have anything you wanted, and the idea of having everything just made you want more. Your mother had no complaints either, for as long as you were out of her way, she didn’t care what you did. Well, it was partially true. You didn't like to think of the times she did say something to appeal to the idea that she was a good mother.

You were always greedy, but not only were you greedy, but you wished for your best friend to have whatever he wanted too. You took turns paying for things, weekend shopping trips more than a regular occurance, though where to most they may be simple and inexpensive, to you they were filled with luxury items that easily amounted to costs that most could never even dream to afford.

“Start of last term… how’d you feel?”

When stepping out of the car, it surprises you that you don’t stumble, Chanhee linking his arm with yours before thanking your chaffeur, handing him a large sum of bills in an excessive tip that he doesn’t need to give, “fucking finally. Can’t wait!”

He chuckles, leading you inside the house of none other than Lee Juyeon.

Juyeon was quite possibly the wealthiest young man on campus and your ex-lover, but neither of those made a difference in whether you were invited or not. It was a given that you were, even high up on the guest list along with your best friend's name as you were let in.

You’d been in these very walls a lot, could cross off many rooms on the list of where you’d been naked and bent over, sometimes high on drugs you’d barely remembered taking, creating a shift in reality and overwhelming pleasure that could never come sober.

“There she is, the little princess,” you scoff, glaring at Juyeon though accepting the delicate glass of expensive champagne that the man himself offers to you, handing another to Chanhee as if he’d prepared for this moment, knowing that if you came, the other wasn’t far behind.

Honestly, sometimes you think that Chanhee became the end to your relationship, but you were tired of it anyway. Whilst Juyeon could be fun company, the two of you were the opposite side of the same coin, far too similar in twisted and cold personality to ever be fully compatible.

“And the little prince. To what do I owe the honour?” His frown is immediate, frustrated by your constant reminder of being similar height, and he’s chucking his drink down his throat before dangling the glass between his fingers.

“Still the same bitch then, huh?”

“I learned from the best,” though Juyeon isn’t one to accept defeat. When he knows a situation can’t be won, he simply fades it out or ignores it, rather than arguing himself into a corner. He’s smart that way; something you’d taken onboard yourself for nothing was worse than realising you’d lost to someone else.

“And Chanhee, still gorgeous,” Juyeon sends him a wink, one Chanhee rolls his eyes to in a way that makes you laugh. The two of them were like oil and water, never getting along fully yet not hating each other enough either.

“I sent you the money,” your ex grins, digging into his pocket until a white paper box is between his jewellery-adorned fingers. There’s a cross displayed in the centre, ironic to you as your eyes seem amused.

“I’m aware,” he holds it out to you, though just as you grab it, he pulls his fingers back just enough for you to miss it, “just be careful. It’s good shit.”

"I would hope so with a price like that."

Juyeon wasn’t lying. When you’d cut down the white powder further with your credit card to create two equally sized lines, one for Chanhee and one for you, you hadn’t thought it would hit you so quickly. Given your quite frequent use of the drug, you’d actually become a bit immune to the first hit.

Chanhee had quickly decided that that one hit would be enough for you both. Whilst normally you’d argue with him and disagree, you let him place the rest in his suit jacket, storing it away from your glazed eyes that watched him lazily.

Your brain could’ve easily done a hundred thousand things in this moment, but instead you sat there with your legs bouncing and your hands only somewhat calmer because they were twisting in your lap, “let’s dance!”

You drag Chanhee to the living room that’s now the dance floor, back and forth in your movement before you’re easily brought to the centre of the room. With Chanhee, it was easy to grab attention, for he was a dancer before he was anything else, sober or not; he simply lived and breathed it, dragging you in by the waist to move with him.

You’re not sure how quickly the time goes. It could be hours or just a few minutes, but the cheering dies down and you’re wondering what could possibly be grabbing anyone’s attention so desperately that it’s not on you anymore.

Blurrily, you tear your eyes away from Chanhee, landing on a figure in the corner of the room alone. He’s disinterested, and it takes quite a long time for you to recognise him though when you do, you’re immediately filled with hatred.

Ji Changmin.

Beyond beautiful, sure, with his dark locks of hair and jewelry-adorned ears, his usual glasses sat over his face, framing it in a way that made him look innocent yet cute, but also completely worthless of anyone’s time.

And here he was taking yours away.

You’re not even sure how he got in. There was no way Juyeon would put someone who got into your university with pure luck and a scholarship, onto tonight's guest list of prestigious classmates who had it all. He didn’t even seem comfortable in being here, so why the hell was he here?

“Y/N,” Chanhee calls your name, though it’s a blur that fades somewhere deep within your drugged mind until you’re physically yanked back to pay attention to him. You notice Juyeon suddenly standing next to him, a lazy smirk on his lips while you have no idea where he suddenly came from.

“Explain, now.”

“Ah well, I wish I could. Don’t actually know how he got here. Impressive, though. Shall we keep him?”

He asks as if Changmin is a pet, though you suppose that’s not quite far off. To everyone in the room, the man in the corner meant very little. He didn’t have money, and whilst some of his clothes were nicely put together, they were mostly cheap. All in all, his appearance was a contrast to yours, and you never appreciated anyone who put in even a percentage less of effort into looks than you did.

You considered it lazy. Even if your rational mind told you he couldn’t afford better, it simply wasn’t good enough if he was going to be part of the world you were in.

“Mind telling him to leave?”

You hadn’t seen him all night, though here he was, Hyunjae, standing tall and proud before the three of you, dressed dark yet regal with a bottle of half-empty red wine between his fingers. It wasn’t unusual to see him avoid an actual glass at a party, for he saw no real use if he was going to drink the contents of a whole bottle anyway. Why pour it somewhere else first if the end result was the same?

“Juyeon, you’re the host,” Chanhee interjects, bitterly reminding Juyeon that he had to do most of the work unless he involved security. And when it came to using security, Juyeon liked to avoid it until it became the very last resort. He rather loved to manipulate people in conversation until they were uncomfortable enough to leave.

Whilst Changmin was a frustrating inconvenience, he was not worth causing a scene for.

“Y/N you tell him,” Juyeon yanks the bottle of wine from Hyunjae, chugging it down as you stare at him in disbelief.

“What? Why me?”

“You’re the only girl,” Hyunjae mumbles, not quite with the conversation as he attempts to get his drink back, mildly successful though there’s a fresh stain of liquid red on the carpet, earning him a rather rough punch to the shoulder from the host.

“Careful, that’s imported,” Juyeon scoffs.

“As if you paid for it,” and he couldn’t argue. His parents were often away, so he was often free to do as he liked and act like it was all his. In reality, only a small share of the luxury was, though the small share was more than enough for him to be incredibly well off and indifferent to anything.

“There’s other girls here,” you yell, spinning around as if to point them all out in an over-dramatic gesture in case all your friends were blind, but that doesn’t seem to matter, and now your head is starting to hurt as fatigue hits you from the alcohol, but your brain can’t rest to save your life because of the self-induced high you’re on from the drug you took.

“Very true,” Hyunjae confirms, though he seems to hold all the answers, so confident in the way he leans down to your level, a little condescending and dangerous in his tone, smelling of cologne and alcohol, “but none of those girls are you.”

Damn it, if Lee Jaehyun didn’t have a way with words.

“Fine,” you exasperatedly snarl, hands on your hips as you huff, annoyed, “what do I get?”

“What would you like?” Juyeon asks you, and it’s in the same tone he used to speak to you with when you were together. An attitude screaming you could have anything if you kept his bed warm at night.

“Shopping trip. Funded by you. No limit,” he’s considering it, rolling his eyes as he reaches for his pocket where his wallet lies, “and I get a plus one. Chanhee’s going.”

The smile on Juyeon’s lips immediately fades, but he nevertheless takes out the platinum card and practically shoves it against Chanhee’s chest, not trusting you to take it when you’re a little more than out of it, not to mention he’s fairly certain that you’re not even quite sure where you are in his house anymore.

“Fine,” he snarls, eyes angry but equally impressed. As if telling you you’ve played your cards well, exactly as he would’ve, but that he’s anything but happy about it.

You’re just as good as him, always unmatched and it’s his biggest frustration with you in his life. To him, you were a competitor, worthy of his time only because you pushed the limits.

Approaching Changmin should’ve been easy. He’d been standing in that corner for the past few minutes, simply unmoving, a drink in hand, alone and isolated, though as soon as you make your way towards him, he moves.

You’re not sure if he’d noticed you, or if maybe he’d grown restless and simply had terrible timing, but there was a growing anger in you at watching him walk away and go outside into the large backyard.

If there’s one thing you definitely didn’t handle well, it would be people walking away from you. And whilst sober, you may have been able to rationalise it more and thought that maybe, just maybe he hadn’t seen you, intoxicated you wasn’t as forgiving, not to mention insulted regardless if he’d known you were there or not.

It’s enough for you to angrily tear a drink away from the grand piano, a row of champagne glasses neatly lined up and filled to take, rushing after him blindly.

“Hey!”

Your voice is loud, enough so that people immediately stop their conversation to turn to you, only to realise that you weren’t paying them any mind, but the one person it’s meant for keeps walking as if he hadn’t bothered to hear you.

“I’m talking to you!”

You’re more secluded now, Changmin having chosen to rest his body against the fence furthest from the pool and crowds of people, though a few are still scattered about. He finally turns towards you, as if choosing to acknowledge your presence, though he doesn’t say a single word as he lights a cigarette.

“Do you not speak? Are you mute?”

Unbelievable.

You scoff, downing your glass in one go before you let it hit the railing to your side, hard enough to shatter and break at your feet.

“I don’t want your attention.”

“Then why did you run out here?”

There were many ways this conversation could go. Even more ways the conversation could’ve started, though you never thought the end result would be this, with Changmin getting on your last nerve before he offers a cigarette out to you, as if he’s completely unaware of how agitated you are. Or maybe he’s perfectly aware and is offering it as a means for you to calm down.

Either way, you surprise yourself by accepting it, practically ripping the lighter out of his hand. He watches you the whole time, and you’re not sure if you’re flattered or annoyed that he’s terribly good at maintaining eye contact with you when your chest is right there and everyone else has been looking down rather than up.

“You weren’t invited,” he smiles, jumping up to sit on the railing, and he doesn’t for one moment seem to disagree with you. You’d expect him to put up a fight, maybe tell you that you must be mistaken before you’d whip out the well I know Lee Juyeon personally card, but you never need to.

“You’re right, I wasn’t,” you’d say the thing that separates you both the most is how relaxed he seems to be carrying himself whilst seeming to be near or completely sober, whereas you at best only manage it either drunk or after sex for a few moments before you go entirely rigid again. You wouldn’t say you envy it, but it is something you wonder about.

“Why are you here?”

“My friend was invited. I’m just making sure he doesn’t drink too much-”

“What friend?” you interrupt, and it sounds harsher than intended but Changmin doesn’t seem very bothered. Either your words don’t affect him at all, or you’re unaware of how you’re actually speaking right now, maybe sounding far more out of character and far more gentle than you think in your head.

“That’s none of your business,” he answers and you scoff again. Any kindness you might’ve shown him is replaced with an anger that seems almost disproportionate to the situation.

“I’m making it my business.”

He doesn’t say anything first, watching as you take a drag from the cigarette he’d offered you. It bothers you, that he’s not really staring at your lips but rather what you’re doing, and you wonder why he doesn’t care. You’re giving him attention, why doesn’t he want it?

And then he walks away and you’re left standing there like an idiot. Something you absolutely refuse and detest and suddenly you’re the one chasing him again. You didn’t know a lot about Changmin, aside from the fact that he was likely smarter than you and had way less money, but what you were starting to learn, you hated.

You’d been told to kick him out and damn it, if that’s not exactly what you were going to do. You were as stubborn as anything and near yelling his name again before you simply huffed and attempted to run after him in your heels, something you weren’t really good at but you didn’t want to give the young man any more attention than he’d already gotten. From you nonetheless.

“You have to leave,” it came out weak, like you weren’t quite sure if you were gently asking or telling him, but it made him stop walking and look at you again. You ignore the way your heart lurches in your throat, clearing it and standing straighter, an attempt to make yourself seem bigger and more intimidating than you maybe were. You had to remind yourself that you were the one in charge, not him.

“Believe me, darling, I’m not here by choice,” yeah right.

“Then leave,” Changmin takes a step forward, exhaling the smoke from his cigarette near your lips, close enough to make you cough and you realise you need another fucking drink after this. Hell, maybe you’ll be dumb enough to find Juyeon to fuck the frustration away.

“I can't. I’m someone’s designated driver,” he answers back, and you see the way his knuckles clench just enough to indicate frustration. You’re getting to him, finally, though he still seems far too composed.

“You can’t afford tuition. How would you afford a car?”

“Well, you see, most people work for the things they get. I can send you a few job openings if you’d like?” God, any attraction caused by his appearance dissipated with the tone of voice he spoke in. He got under your skin and fast, nestling there with a comfort you didn’t appreciate.

“Bite me.”

“Where?”

“Fuck off.”

“Gladly. You’re dumbing me down,” your arms cross, yet even so he still doesn’t glance down when your cleavage threatens to spill over the corset you’re wearing and you huff. There were two options. Admit defeat and walk away, or hurt him. But any insult you thought of was lost on your tongue as you stared at him in near disbelief. He was waiting for you to answer, to say anything, but after a while he seemed almost bored and simply turned around again.

Unbelievable.

“Is your answer to just always walk aw-”

“You bore me,” he says, one hand in his pocket as he heads back towards the house that you’re meant to get him out of.

“You’re interrupting m- HEY!”

Never, ever would you admit defeat. It wasn’t like you to lose and you never knew anything other than getting your way, and yet here you stood frozen because someone had ignored what you wanted and it had left you speechless. He was embarrassing you and your character, both of which you knew to be strong and self-sufficient, and you were letting him.

“Did the little princess get ignored?” Juyeon looked thrilled, like he’d wanted this to happen, and yet you barely paid any mind to him suddenly appearing beside you. You hadn’t even noticed him approach, staring into a blank void of where Changmin had been walking back inside. Maybe if you imagined him still standing there, he’d appear and you could give him a piece of your mind, “Looks like I’ll have to take back that platinum card, little one.”

“What if I fuck you, can I keep it then?”

“Isn’t that a step away from prostitution?”

“Are you complaining about getting your dick wet?”

Juyeon shuts up in an instance, like even in his hazed slightly drunk high mind, he knew better than to complain. Chanhee would never let you live this future mistake down, but right now, you don't care. In this instance, you let Juyeon take your hand and tug you through a sea of people until you’re in his bedroom, shutting it quickly with your own body as he presses you against the dark wood. You grab his shirt and pull him close, tilting your head so he can kiss down your neck and you simply let him.

You were just so fucking frustrated and had already come here with the intention of fucking someone, and at least Juyeon knew you. He was insufferable, sure, but he was a source of comfort in familiarity that grounded you when you were too angry to fully think. Maybe you should learn to be more grateful for him.

Being grateful wasn’t exactly something you were good at showing, though, so instead you show your appreciation by sinking down to your knees, your shorts tightening around your thighs with your legs partially spread while you work on unbuttoning his pants. Juyeon chuckles, grabbing your hair between his large fingers, tugging in a way that shows arrogance and expectancy in your lewd behaviour.

You were both bad for each other, you think, but it’s something you don’t care about.

Juyeon’s arrogance and place in your life almost never played on your mind.

“Do you like whoring yourself out to me?”

“I can still bite your dick off,” he chuckles, low like he’s mocking you and it makes you shiver. You hate almost everything about him at this point, but he spoiled you and his cock was big and both were enough reason to keep him around.

“Maybe, but then your tight little pussy won’t get to clench around my cock when you cum,” and he had you cornered just like that, taking his cock in your mouth as you began to suck and wet the head with your lips. His free hand leans against the door, eyes cast down onto your own as you look up. You liked looking at him. He was beautiful, with sharp features and a cocky smile and your judgement didn’t matter when he stared back.

Your tongue dips into the slit of his cock before letting your teeth barely graze the shaft while you take him in your mouth, hearing him curse under his breath and his eyes finally disappear from your own in favour of squeezing them shut. You hollow your cheeks and angle your head in a way that lets you take more of him in, moaning around his cock when you do.

It’s become a little repetitive for you to give head, but you also don’t mind it because it was easy to do. You build up a pace and grab Juyeon’s thighs for support, digging your manicured nails into the flesh as he moves his hips in time with you, leaving you gasping for air each time he lets go. Your mouth releases his cock and a string of saliva falls between you both, your lips swollen red as you stare up at him with a blank stare.

You know you don’t have feelings for him, and he doesn’t have feelings for you.

“Get up,” you let him tug you, his hands moving to your back to tug the strings of the corset Chanhee had tied just hours ago, and it feels like a struggle to get it pulled over your head.

"Wait! My piercings,” you nearly yell, not ready to tear either of them because Juyeon decides to pull a little too hard. He huffs, frustrated, but he’s nice enough to listen and tries to be a little gentler while you finally allow your lungs their usual breathing capacity.

Your corset is haphazardly thrown to the floor and your shorts follow, but the minute you step out of them, Juyeon has lifted you up onto his waist. His cock presses against your lace panties, the wetness of your pussy felt through the fabric and he can only smirk against the kiss he gives you. You could verbally tell him anything you wanted, but your body always wanted him.

He sits on the edge of his bed, your legs wrapped around him while your body starts to grind down against him, making you mewl and whimper at how close he is while it still doesn’t feel like enough.

“Fuck me, Juyeon- ah!” Juyeon’s hand stings against your ass when he harshly slaps the skin, your nails digging into his shoulders before you add, “p-please.”

“Good girl,” his fingers tug the lace fabric to the side, his index teasing your clit and feeling your wetness gather on his skin and it feels agonizing and empty without him fucking you.

“Please, Ju- want your cock,” he chuckles, all too willing to oblige to your request, and you feel the tip of his dick by your tight hole, begging to be filled and dripping in your juices.

“Say please,” you whine again, but you both know he’s going to get his way in the end and you relent.

“P-please.”

His cock slips inside you with practised familiarity, but he hisses at the tight walls trying to push him out. Juyeon knows he should’ve taken more time in opening you up, but he also knows you wouldn’t have let him. He knows you like the sting of his cock pressing into you and opening you up just for him and you know not to ask for it because Juyeon knows you better.

It’s agonizing for you both, him waiting to fuck you while you lift your hips up and off his cock each time he goes a little deeper. Each inch stimulates you and makes you shake, and if he was a little less nice, he’d let his frustration get to him and have you sit down on his cock without warning.

“Princess, sit on my lap,” I’m trying. That’s what you think, but no words come out. You feel like you’ve gone dumb, which is an insult to your character but you don’t think it matters now, “let me fuck you.”

“Y-yeah-” you don’t know how much time passes, but you feel his thighs press to your ass and you nearly sigh in relief at the fullness you feel with him inside you and knowing every inch of him is in your cunt.

Juyeon slaps your ass again, hard enough that you jerk forward and a moan emits from your throat, and it’s like the sudden electricifying jolt wakes you up and has you moving against him, sinking down on his cock each time you move. It’s sloppy, maybe low effort, but given the routine you’ve both worked up, it’s almost too natural and easy to gravitate towards it.

Thankfully, the repetition is short-lived when your body strains and muscles tense, lifting your body up, though Juyeon presses you back down, hands digging into the flesh of your ass as you cum against him. Maybe it’s the drugs and alcohol in your system making this easy, tipping you over the edge way before you’re ready, but your exhausted mind doesn’t care and barely registers you being pushed off him so he can cum, a mess of white adorning your inner thigh like a decorative piece of lace.

Both your breathing is heavy and exhausted, the air thick and sweaty as you look up at the ceiling. You’re thinking, but you don’t quite know what about. You’re clouded, and you decide then that it’s time to find Chanhee and go home.

“I can drive you home.”

“Not like that,” you snarl, unwilling to get into the car with him intoxicated, but more so because you really don’t want to be near him right now. You’re not sure what it is, regret, frustration, maybe both, but you’re just ready to go home and forget this night ever existed.

“Take care,” you mumble something back, just loud enough so he knows you heard him, but you don’t find him to be very genuine. Juyeon was complicated, especially with you, and you wondered often if that circled back to the fact that you were both so painfully similar in your being.

“You fucked, didn’t you?” Chanhee is standing there, leaning against the wall by the corner you turned to go downstairs and it’s like he already knows. He looks disappointed, not because he cares about what you do or who with, but because he’s fairly certain he knows who you were with, “isn’t it a little pathetic to fuck your ex at his party just to get laid?”

“I wasn’t trying to get laid,” well, that could’ve been debated, but you could say with confidence that Juyeon hadn’t been on your list of plans for the night.

“But you fucked Juyeon, right?”

“I’m allowed to make poor decisions,” Chanhee follows after you, naturally stepping into pace with you as he pushes you both past crowds of people that cause him an abundance of frustration.

“Certainly true, you make plenty-”

“I don’t need a lecture,” you snarl, pushing your hair behind your ear after it falls from its place.

“Then don’t be fucking stupid.”

You want to turn your body around and argue. You’re good at arguing, but so is Chanhee and you’re fairly certain he wouldn’t back down from this, even if you’re both in a public setting, and it’s ultimately that and your desire to go home that has you say nothing at all. Honestly, you also know he’s right, that Juyeon is always a bad decision and will never fail to be, and that’s something you have yet to make your peace with.

A part of you still ached for someone you knew wasn’t good for you, but you refused to let any of it resurface. You weren’t going to be dumb.

Not again.

You were a little dumb. Your decisions were poor but your facade implied otherwise. You’d will away any thoughts of Juyeon and if they persisted, you’d be taking them to your grave. It was a Monday now, a terrible start to the week and you were very much ready to throw in the towel.

But you were smart and you enjoyed learning, at least to an extent, and really only your own ambitions and determination had landed you in a major that was far more mathematical than just theory, like you’d so naively believed, and it was really your own fault that you were burnt out from the amount of work you got.

It’s another reason why you feature so heavily in the university library, almost like a decorative piece, one of the statues that was carved out of stone around the massive two-story space, old oak woods and beautiful carpeted stairs spiraling up to a study area. One that you frequented more than any other place. Usually, Mondays were quiet. Especially Mondays that featured heavy rain and left most students at home. Honestly, you couldn’t blame them, which is why you were so agitated to see that almost every seat around you with a desk was taken.

Even the more comfortable chairs that spun and had a pillow as a rest but no table, were occupied and overflowing with students. You weighed your options, but given your time limit and unwillingness to stand around like an idiot and risk someone noticing it, you took a seat at a six-person table across a dark head of hair that you failed to recognise until you’d already sat down and it was too late.

Changmin.

You fucking hated Mondays.

The deflected way your shoulders dropped didn’t go unnoticed by him, you could tell, because he’d briefly looked up only to roll his eyes at the way you’d looked visibly annoyed, maybe even disappointed. There was the option to move, there was other space, but it would be far too obvious and you didn’t want to make a scene, not one that involved him. The last thing you needed was people talking, especially after you’d tried to kick him out of Juyeon’s party.

Did it bother him?

“You can quit staring at me.”

“I wasn’t staring,” but your answer came out too quick, too defensively and you knew he didn’t believe you. Honestly, you hadn’t noticed yourself staring until he’d said it, and at that point you knew saying the opposite was a lie. You just weren’t aware of it.

“About the party…” you’re not sure what you’re attempting, pushing your hair back and up into a bun to get it out of your way, using the distraction to think of what you might say.

“A pleasant conversation, certainly. Can I finish this?”

Changmin was strange. You couldn’t begin to pretend like you knew him nor could you understand him, aside from the fact that he was frustrating, a little bit too pretty and apparently smart. Two of those, you didn’t really care for.

“You weren’t invited. I was only doi-”

“Running Juyeon’s biddings because he doesn’t have the balls to do it himself?”

The temptation to say yes is on the tip of your tongue until you remember the weight of his credit card in your pocket, waiting to be spent with your best friend. You were not risking bad karma by allowing Juyeon to somehow find out and have it circle back that you agreed with Changmin on something. God forbid, you’d bury yourself alive if that happened.

“That’s not what I’m doing…”

“I already told you I don’t care,” Changmin looks back at his book, his glasses moving slightly as they do and you watch as he adjusts it with his slender fingers. You hate how nothing he says hides his intentions or feelings, it’s all right there on the surface and it drives you crazy because you know that he really doesn’t care, and it baffles you. It frustrates you.

Why the fuck was he so indifferent?

“Yeah but… that’s ridiculous…”

“Has anyone ever told you the world doesn’t revolve around you, or am I going to be the first?”

“This isn’t even about me. It’s about you being at a party uninvited,” you snarl, getting exhausted which is only exasperated when you hear someone shush you from further away. If you were speaking loudly, you didn’t care. Not enough, anyway.

“Yes, it keeps me up at night knowing I caused you such discomfort,” you scoff, feeling offended just by the tone of his voice, and yet you wish it wasn’t so obvious, just how much that bothered you.

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“What doesn’t?”

“Being at a party you aren’t allowed to be at?”

“And whose permission do I need? Yours?”

“If it were my party, sure. But in this case, Juyeon.”

“In which case, Juyeon can go tell me himself.”

“That’s bullshit!”

Except it isn’t. It bothers you so much because you know he’s right. It was Juyeon’s party. If he didn’t want someone there, he should’ve said it himself. Instead, you were left to do it, you accepted it because of the promised date with your friend on someone else's dime and it felt so incredibly shallow, not to mention you felt used.

But you weren’t ready to admit how shallow Juyeon made you feel. How lesser than you became for him. And you certainly weren’t ready to tell the person before you that he was right.

Unfortunately for him, you wouldn’t have gotten to say it either even if you really wanted to. There’s a weight of someone’s hand on your shoulder, making you look up to see the displeased face from the only male librarian, a name you never remember but a face you could go without seeing.

“I’m going to ask you to leave if you can’t keep your voice down at an acceptable level, young lady.”

“I was already leaving,” Changmin interrupts, packing his things into his arms before vacating the seat across from you, “she gives me a headache anyway.”

“I do not!”

Again, Changmin doesn’t care; it’s the way his lack of response that has a way of twisting your gut and boiling your emotions over, making you react and push against it whether you can justifiably reason with it or not. You just don’t like him.

Yet you feel like always getting the last word, he just barely seems to listen. He’s already left the library before you can think quick enough on your feet and now you’re on your own, alone and feeling humiliated because you know people are looking at you, heard you and him speak and they all know that he’s embarrassed you.

Your hatred for him had only grown tenfold in your humiliation.

Chanhee sits across from you looking almost doll-like with his black coffee in hand, your own drink before you on the table, untouched. You’d spent enough money that Juyeon might even notice it in his balance, bags surrounding you both and some already in the car because the weight on both your arms was overbearing, yet you still felt a void. You weren’t satisfied, nor were you happy.

It wasn’t good enough.

“You’re not listening. Do you want to keep insulting me?”

“Huh? Sorry… tell me again?”

“Forget it,” you sigh, feeling the guilt run through your bloodstream and settle in your heart with a heavy weight that you can’t shake.

“I’m sorry. I’m distracted…”

“Yeah, you’ve been distracted since we got here. Hours ago,” he was right, truly, but there wasn’t much you could do about it. Your mind was wandering and each time you told it not to, it persisted.

“Do you think… Juyeon should’ve kicked Changmin out himself?”

“Probably. But why do you care? You don’t like Changmin either.”

“Well… no… but he just… he’s getting under my skin.”

Chanhee laughs, but it’s caught in his throat and sinks when he realises you’re completely serious.

“Wait, this is actually bothering you?”

“Changmin is. He’s so… frustrating. I can’t stand him.”

“So, don’t? I’m not sure I see the problem?”

Because there wasn’t one. At least there shouldn’t be one. It didn’t matter. How Changmin viewed you, how he thought of you should mean absolutely nothing, and if it meant anything, it shouldn’t have been enough to get under your skin, and yet here you were, letting him get to you.

Like he meant way more than he does. Way more than you should ever let him.

“You’re right.”

It’s another Monday morning when Changmin makes you snap and you realise very quickly that Chanhee was very wrong. You absolutely should let everything about Changmin’s existence bother you. Even more now that he’s spilled excruciatingly warm fresh coffee on your white hoodie that cost way more than his entire outfit.

“I’m sorry,” it’s the most genuine he’s ever sounded when speaking to you. A part of you knows it wasn’t intentional either. You’d turned the corner too fast and he’d done the same, crashing into you before he even realised you were there and it was already too late, but your anger got the better of you. His apology meant nothing to you. He could say it twice, even a third time and it would only make you angrier.

“Are you fucking blind?”

“Actually, yeah. I don’t wear glasses as an accessory…”

“You- are you… do you think this is funny!?”

“Not particularly.”

“I’m not getting this out, Changmin,” you huff, looking down at your ruined clothes and remembering that it isn’t even nine yet, and your entire outfit is ruined. You’re sure if it wasn’t so thick of a fabric, it would’ve burned your skin too, “replace it.”

“I don’t hear a please.”

“You ruined it!”

You don’t know what makes your head spin more. The fact that he’s directly insulting you, or the fact that he called you darling again. Your heart lurches up to your throat and threatens to beat louder, and that’s the biggest insult to you. Changmin shouldn’t call you that. You don’t want him to, and yet nothing leaves your lips to protest or tell him to stop.

He waits a moment, staring at you awaiting a response, any response, and yet he doesn’t get anything. Changmin wonders why, what silences your attitude now to simply stare at him, but he’s not going to ask and he’s not going to pick a fight with you unless he feels the need for it. He’ll defend himself, but not more than he has to.

Which is why he decides to be the more rational peace bringer in this mess of a conversation, pulling his own hoodie over his body to hand to you.

“Here, put it on and shut it,” you don’t move at first. Changmin wonders if you even heard him at all yet you stare at the fabric with such offence that he’s fairly certain you did, “what? Not good enough for the little doll?”

Doll. That was a first. You’d heard Chanhee be referred to as a doll plenty of times. Even you thought of him as one sometimes, with his delicate build and beautiful features and attitude, but never yourself. It was never you that was referred to as something that pretty.

You wondered, were you delicate to him, like porcelain, or maybe you were cheaper, not really dollike in the way that you wanted to be. Only when you realised again that it was Changmin that had referred to you as such, did you snap out of it and get annoyed, “absolutely not. I’d rather die than wear that.”

He shoves it into your hands anyway and the fabric is so soft to the touch, you nearly regret declining him at all. It’s way more comfortable than yours, at least in the way it feels against your fingers, and it’s warm too. Not in a way that feels dirty but rather like a heated blanket, like someone's body heat had been radiating off it to create a warm little shell you could nestle yourself into with hints of perfume.

“Wear it or not, I don’t care. Just… shut your mouth. Your voice is grating me, and now I have to get more coffee,” Changmin doesn’t wait for you to speak. He’s turned the way he came from presumably to go back to the coffee shop, and you’re standing there for the longest time wondering what to even do. You’re annoyed and angry, though it’s simmered down to just being incredibly confused. You stare at the dark blue fabric in your grasp, probably far too large for you and for just a moment, you consider it. You consider it until voices in the hall snap you out of your own stupidity.

“Yikes, what the hell happened there?” Hyunjae seems far from impressed, his clothing perfectly neat and ironed against his toned body, and you can feel the judgement from his eyes that makes you frown. You were being judged for your appearance and that cut deeper than anything else could.

“Changmin bumped into me,” you cross your arms over your chest, letting the darker borrowed fabric dangle over your forearm while he shares a look with Younghoon.

Younghoon was unbelievably beautiful yet so high-strung and pretentious that you couldn’t bare being near him most of the time. It was fitting, of course, that he’d be friends with Juyeon and Hyunjae in particular. You’d thought that out of the two of them, he’d be judging you far more for your ruined top but instead it seemed to be the man you’d consider yourself more close to, “look, I know it’s bad. I’ll probably call it a day.”

“Callin’ it a day this early?”

“Younghoon, do you not see what I look like?”

“Oh, I definitely see it,” that one stings. It really cuts, because it feels like a direct insult towards your appearance. Like he’s confirming what you’re already thinking. You’re unattractive and sloppy, with no effort invested in yourself. You look cheap.

Biting back with an insult is usually what you did best. It’s what you wanted to do now, to tell him to go to hell and leave you alone because you knew you were better than him. Yet you couldn’t, because something in you was threatening to break, like a vial with the sadness you were suppressing and all that was left to do was cry.

And you would not be caught crying in front of Lee Jaehyun and Kim Younghoon. Never.

“Fuck you,” you push past him with your usual aggressive tone, the one he was probably used to hearing and used to ignoring much the same, letting you leave without much of a fight.

You were a good student. You could miss a day, it wouldn’t kill you and you doubt your parents would even notice your absence here at all. If they did, you could blame it on feeling sick, but you weren’t staying here any longer today. You’d study at home, but at least you’d be at home.

Your cat greets you with an unimpressed gaze as you enter the front door, staring at you from the overhead railing above on the second floor. It’s like seeing a reflection of yourself, and maybe it’s intentional. Maybe she mirrors you, or maybe she’s just an asshole.

Chanhee loved her. She liked him, though. A lot more than you. She tolerated you, you supposed.

“Quit staring at me,” it’s not that you didn’t like her. She was a pretty ragdoll, elegant with bright blue eyes and you took care of her. But she was also a bit of a diva. Your best friend would simply say she took after you, and maybe he was right.

You’re standing fully naked in your bathroom after a long shower, wondering if you should put on this damn hoodie that’s practically mocking you at the end of your bed where you’d lazily thrown it. It was tempting you, not because it was Changmin’s but because it looked cosy and honestly, you didn’t really care if this one got messy. You could lounge with relaxed shoulders because you didn’t have to think about getting something on your clothes, because they weren’t yours to begin with.

Your body was completely dry by the time you decide to wear it and you’d been right in assuming it would be comfortable. It was long, which made sense, given that it had been big on Changmin too. It was cosy but no longer with the warmth from earlier. The only traces of Changmin came from his cologne.

And it was nice. It smelled like a mixture of rain and the burning of wood in a fireplace in the winter. Maybe pinecone. You weren’t sure, but it wasn’t overbearing to your senses. You could smell it, it was noticeable, but it didn’t make you shrink away in disgust. It wasn’t too much, just enough, and you liked it.

You wondered what it was he wore.

Chanhee would probably know. He practically swam in perfumes and colognes (mostly perfumes) and he could probably pinpoint it. But you were not about to ask him to smell Changmin’s hoodie for you. That would be humiliating to you, and you’d had enough humiliation lately to last you for at least a decade.

Assuming you made it that far.

You’d developed what you considered a bad habit. It wasn’t the parties or the drugs or Juyeon that you were worried about, but your growing comfort of wearing that godforsaken oversized hoodie at home.

Maybe if it had belonged to Chanhee or Juyeon, or even Younghoon at this point, it would not have felt so shameful. But it belonged to someone you barely considered acquainted, and it was definitely someone you didn’t and would never grow to like.

Chanhee had found out about it a week after you’d first taken the item of clothing hostage in your home. He’d come by when it was pouring rain with five bottles of wine and the remainder of your cocaine from your ex and in your drunken drugged-out state you’d confessed that what you were wearing wasn’t even yours. Property of Ji Changmin, you’d called it, before downing another huge amount of the bottle you were holding.

Your best friend’s first question was to ask if you fucked him. You hadn’t, of course, and you were honest in your protest. It hadn’t ever crossed your mind, at least not at that point. As attractive as Changmin was even in your judgemental eyes, you hadn’t thought about it.

Well, up until that point, anyway.

“I wonder what his cock is like…” Chanhee nearly spits his wine back out. He’d heard worse from you. In his opinion, he knew far too much about your sex life from back when you were with Juyeon, but it’s not like he was a prude. He could talk about sex, even in detail, but about Changmin?

“I think you’ve had en- hey!”

You down the rest of the third bottle, the one Chanhee had just been holding and he sighs and reaches to open the next one, away from your thieving fingers.

“It’s just a curious little question,” because you know that Chanhee is the only person in the world you can really ask this to. Chanhee is probably the only person in the world that you think shows genuine concern for you.

“I’ve never thought about it,” neither have I.

The conversation died quite quickly, maybe because Chanhee had no interest in discussing what Changmin might look like naked. You didn’t entirely blame him. Maybe you were just horny. Maybe you should call Juyeon.

It was a back-and-forth cycle, one that never ended, and maybe that’s what Juyeon expected. He always expected you to come crawling back either way because somehow, you always did. Tonight though, while Chanhee seemed to be sound asleep next to you, you refused to run to Juyeon. You wanted sex, but you did not want to have your tail between your legs knocking at his door and begging for it.

Staring at the ceiling was your attempt at tiring your body out to go to sleep but it wasn’t happening. Maybe it was the coke (probably), but you were so frustrated and you wanted to have an orgasm. Honestly, any drunker and you might’ve just asked Chanhee.

You did not just think about fucking your best friend.

So maybe there was some truth to the assumption that you and Chanhee had sex.

What was sex with Chanhee like?

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you mumble out loud, ready to just give up, admit defeat and go to Juyeon after all, but Chanhee’s voice interrupts you.

“What now?”

“You’re awake?”

“I had more coke than you, of course I’m awake,” your best friend snarls, though the intentions aren’t cruel. He’s probably just as frustrated as you, maybe more, because Chanhee loves his sleep and if he didn’t get it, he always found himself incredibly grumpy.

“I need to fuck,” you relent, throwing your pillow over your head.

“Call your precious Juju,” Chanhee answers, shuffling around before you feel his eyes staring at you.

“It’s Juyeon. And I’m not going to call him. His dick is mediocre at best,” you remove the pillow to look at your best friend and for a moment you feel unfairly sad for how pretty he is. Why couldn’t you so effortlessly, even in a drug-induced tipsy state, look so beautiful?

“Which is why you keep going back to it, got it.”

“Shut up…” Chanhee shuffles again and it takes you a whole five seconds to register that he’s on top of you, looking down at you with a frown on his face. You know that look. It’s pity and hurt for his best friend and it makes you feel even smaller.

“Quit being sad. Let’s order some food and we can forget about it.”

“Easy for you to say. You don’t gain weight from eating at ungodly hours,” you catch him wanting to roll his eyes but you can tell he stops himself, maybe because he knows your weight is something you’re genuinely not secure about.

“Incorrect. I actually gained weight recently,” the scoff that leaves your lips is out of your control and you shake your head in amusement instead, but it’s more mocking.

“Yeah? Well, let me know when it’s actually visible. You’re perfect Chanhee.”

“So are you,” he lays a hand over your lips before the protest he clearly knew was coming, and you simply give up. You give up because you know you’ll both go in circles and given your current state, you’re very likely going to end up in tears. The alcohol had worn off, but it was still in your system and you were definitely upset enough to have a meltdown.

“Do you think Juyeon thought so too?”

“I think he’s an idiot if he didn’t. And I think you’ve had way too much tonight, because if you were sober you’d never even consider that question. Y/N doesn’t care,” but do you want to care?

There was no justifiable reason to care about Juyeon’s opinion, but you did. He ran in a well-respected social circle that you found yourself a part of, and you really didn’t want your reputation to dwindle. It was already dwindling just for the hoodie you wore and shame washed over you again for even wearing it.

You wished more than anything in the world in that moment that you could tell him you appreciated it, but you weren’t very good at expressing yourself with emotions that were deep and sweet. Things that made you vulnerable were impossible to face, you’d hit a wall until you avoided it all together. You were avoiding it now, the love you had for your best friend, because you simply couldn’t face the vulnerability that came with doing something so genuine in its feelings.

Understanding how to love was hard, learning to confess it was impossible, even platonically.

“Goodnight.”

It was raining heavily when you got into the main building, pushing the hood of your jacket down as you approached the left hallway. You were somewhat late, leaving everything deserted and empty aside from a few scattered students. In truth, you’d been up far too late the night before, overthinking. Hovering over Juyeon’s contact was once more a beautifully stupid temptation.

You felt obsessed and lacking control, and you hated it.

“Little doll,” your heels stop, turning sharply to the sound of a voice you wish wasn’t so familiar. The fact that you could pinpoint who it belonged to was incredibly frustrating, for in your mind it meant you knew Changmin too well, “where’s my hoodie?”

“Keep your voice down,” you hiss, grabbing his sleeve and sharply turning a corner into a deserted hall with one dark mahogany door leading into the auditorium. No one ever came here, “what the fuck are you trying to do?”

“Get your talon claws off me- ouch!” You dug into his skin before pulling away, making him glare at you sharply with discontent similar to your own. Changmin didn’t hide his displeasure of your presence and yet he’d sought it out.

“I want my hoodie. Or are you going to deny me of something that is mine?”

“You ruined mine,” you bite back, but he doesn’t care. He rolls his eyes and you have to suppress a sharp scoff as you move to sit on the windowsill, enough room to do so in marbled gorgeous stone that you’re far too tempted to bash Changmin’s head against.

“I apologised. Have you ever apologized for anything, by the way? You don’t seem to know how to do that,” crossing your arms, you lean up to see his eyes. They’re harsh, a dark brown that holds no real mirth. He looks at you like you mean nothing of value, like you’re beneath him and the realization makes you sharply stand back up to match his height with your heels. Actually, you might even be taller.

“I’m waiting for my replacement.”

You lied. In truth, there was a certain comfort in wearing it that you didn’t find with any of your own clothes. Maybe it was the length or how it sat over your skin. Maybe it was the softness of fabric or the initial smell of cologne that had since faded. Whatever it was, it made you want to curl up, but not in sadness, rather in contentment.

“It’s been two weeks. Possibly more, actually,” but as annoyed as Changmin was, a part of him looked like he wasn’t going to push any harder. It was his final attempt at getting it back, but he didn’t seem to be too displeased if he wouldn’t get it at all. That thought in itself confused you.

“I’m aware, thank you.”

“She knows her thanks. How endearing of you, doll,” doll. Again, there it was, flowing past his lips unbothered and gently, almost meaningless. The words didn’t hold weight to them, not for him, but for you, they felt constrictive. They felt like something you desired to hear, what you wanted to strive for in appearance, becoming the impossible similarly to how you viewed your best friend, and Changmin was handing it to you on a silver platter.

You just wouldn’t take it from him.

“Just keep it then, I really can’t be asked to chase after you.”

“What?”

Fuck. You hadn’t managed to hide your surprise and now he’d caught it, seeming almost amused as he leaned against the wall and watched you. He was dressed casually, as you’d always seen him to be, lazy even, but you couldn’t deny the comfort he probably felt in comparison to you. You, dressed in a short skirt and a top sat so tight on your skin, it was about to cut into flesh, heels high and digging into your ankle with your weight.

“Keep it. It’ll be a nice change of pace from… well… this,” he gestured, and your jaw nearly hit the floor.

“What the fuck is- Changmin!”

He was walking away from you, and you damn near couldn’t believe it. Changmin was walking away from you, ignoring you, insulting you, and you had no words for it.

“Changmin!”

“Careful, you wouldn’t want people to hear that we know each other, right?”

He’d caught you there. Stopped you right in his tracks because he was right. You were chasing after him, and the question was why? When had chasing after him ever become worth it to you? Since when did you want to prove a point to him. Since when did anything he thought matter?

You stood there, left in the hall like an abandoned, wounded frail animal, and he didn’t care. The question was, why suddenly did you? The temptation to chase him, to justify yourself and have him take back those sharp insults was near overwhelming, enough so that you debated skipping your first class altogether in favour for a cigarette and maybe a beer from the convenience store to calm your nerves.

Maybe you’d just go home.

“You still haven’t given it back?”

Chanhee interrupts your peaceful start to lunch on a bench outside beneath the overhang to shield from the light rain and you glare the minute he appears. You chip at your nails that need refilling urgently and he stops you with a hold of the wrist, making you stare back at him with a sigh, “how’d you find that out?”

“I saw it at your place this morning when I went looking for you.”

“You were looking for me?”

Had you made plans that you’d forgotten about? Maybe you’d agreed to drive to campus together, but if that had been the case, you couldn’t remember it.

“Thought if you were late we could have some breakfast on the way,” silence follows first, the wind blowing strands of hair in your face that you push away behind your ear, “I’m not judging.”

“Aren’t you? Why then bring it up?”

“I guess I’m curious. If you’re fucking-”

“I’m not. I already told you.”

“Yeah, I know, but I also know if you were, you’d probably feel like you can’t tell me. I don’t want you to think that.”

He was right. That was the worst of it, how well he knew you, truly, even with limited words spoken or a stoic expression, he could still tell. It did bother you, that you had tells. You wished nothing more to be the heartless bitch those who were strangers to you, assumed you were. Truth be told, you were heartless as an illusion to shield yourself from the reality of loneliness and isolation that came with maintaining the life you desired and wanted.

“We’re not. I’ll give it back to him. Just… haven’t had time,” or you keep intentionally forgetting it. Both are simultaneously true. It’s either not having the time to do so or conveniently going without it.

“You know… I don’t think he has really many friends.”

“Is that my problem?” Chanhee shakes his head, his lips frowning and he seems annoyed with you, like you’re too stupid to get the point and you nearly feel insulted. He was trying to tell you something without any words, and you failed to understand it.

And as if all the gods worked against you on this day, the man in question stood before you both, appearing almost as if out of thin air, his steps so light he felt weightless.

“Give me your hoodie. The one I so graciously ruined,” his tone, it was mocking you. He was speaking the way you would, but with a certain vanity and uptightness that made you grimace.

“Changmin,” your best friend acknowledged with a little nod of the head, biting his lip as he went to grab his purse and leave the awkward tension he’d stumbled into entirely without meaning to, but you grabbed his arm and pulled him right back down to sit.

“I’ll fix it.”

“Yeah, fucking right you will,” he crosses his arms first before moving his fingers up to adjust his glasses, and you note now how slender they are while adorned by silver metals. They’re almost graceful and delicate, shockingly so and you have to blink away and adjust your vision to snap out of it.

“It’s ruined, no? So either you keep it that way, or you risk me ruining it more trying to fix it. Both scenarios, you’re fucked.”

“His logic isn’t wrong.”

“Shut up, Chanhee.”

“So it’s not just me that you’re a tyrannical bitch to?” Chanhee coughed back a laugh, hiding the smile behind his hand and you felt ganged up on. You felt like your best friend was on the wrong side and it stung at your chest, making your heart clench as if it was constricting every part of you. Changmin seemed so effortlessly good at making you feel crazy, but it was worse when you felt like the person meant to be on your team was laughing because of the opposing side. He was humoured, at your expense.

And it hurt. It stung, far more than it maybe should.

“You don’t get to call her that. You want to fix her hoodie? Then do so. But don’t call her names you wouldn’t even use to refer to your own dog.”

Changmin narrows his eyes, intense in his gaze enough so that you cast yours away, his humour gone. You’ve never really been one to cower under eye contact, but it was the way in which he stared back at Chanhee that brought you unease and wariness.

For someone who looked quite gentle, maybe even kind, he seemed to hide a more dark intimidating side that you weren’t so sure you’d ever really come in contact with, despite the many times you’d thrown and insult or two his way.

“You’re right. I’m sorry little doll. Bring me that hoodie tomorrow, and I’ll see what the fairy godmother can whip up for me,” he was mocking you again. Blatantly. Without any regard for your feelings and it chipped at you. Things like this shouldn’t bother you. They didn’t bother you, so why did this? Changmin had a way of crawling under your skin, of settling deep into your veins and creating a constant sense of emotional turbulence to your feelings.

“Hey, do you wanna-”

You surely weren’t the little doll that Changmin referred to you as. A nickname that still tormented you because the question simply became why?

When you dig out the white hoodie from deep within your overflowing laundry basket, you briefly debate if it’s worth it. You could afford to go to the dry cleaner yourself, he couldn’t, and yet it was more about proving a point of exactly that. A spiteful, vindictive, evil little point, but one nevertheless. He ruined it, so he could fix it. You reap what you sow.

But the longer you stared at the offensive fabric, the more it felt pointless. You weren’t really sure what you were trying to prove, if anything at all. Aside from maybe the fact that he was worlds beneath you, that he’d never be like you, and that something as simple as going to the dry cleaners was somehow proof that you were better than him.

When you near shove the fabric against his chest the following day without even a hello, he seems used to it. Changmin doesn’t blink, barely budges or loses his footing, doesn’t really question it either. In a way, he was used to you.

In a way, you became used to his indifference, too.

It took a while. Days turned into a few good weeks and you were almost convinced that Changmin had ruined your hoodie entirely. That you’d never see it because he’d turned to some at home DIY of cleaning a stained white fabric and now it was done for.

And in those weeks, you’d felt like nothing was in your control. Younghoon had found a way to insult you twice, once with Juyeon standing right there. Though he’d stepped in and defended you, it seemed half-assed. As if he was trying to be diplomatic but his words weren’t with real meaning. It was yet another reminder that you and Juyeon lacked much real care for each other. You wondered if he ever really did, or if the doomed relationship you’d had with almost pure sex and unsober thoughts had always just been one-sided.

You were very certain, especially now, that Juyeon never loved you. But you could still care for someone without loving them, and yet you were starting to wonder if you’d meant so little that he hadn’t even cared. It made you question why you’d been in a relationship at all, if not just for the similar bank balances and the sex you’d once deemed good enough to satisfy you.

At one point, it had been good. You and Juyeon had been far from perfect, but it had worked. It had worked until it didn’t, and when it didn’t, it really didn’t. Deciding to be friends had been easy at the time, the consequences were barely existing because you still got to fuck him when either of you pleased, and yet now it all seemed to sink in in a far aftermath. It worked on delay, and your tumultuous feelings threatened to tumble over the moment Juyeon simply tried to keep the peace between you and Younghoon.

It had nearly made you cry, but you straightened your posture and adjusted your hair with a smile on your face as you thanked him instead and sent Younghoon a look that told him you hated him just as much, you just wouldn’t say it. Why you hated each other, you couldn’t quite say. Aside from his arrogance and way of looking at you like you were a whore on the streets and sending daggers at you in the form of words that were sometimes so smartly phrased, you were almost envious that you hadn’t come up with them yourself.

On top of Younghoon’s insults, Juyeon making you feel less loved and Chanhee and you being in a strange little place of not really talking but sharing glances almost to ask if the other was okay, Hyunjae had also run your way with the offer of an invitation to a party.

A perfect distraction. A much-needed one, definitely. You needed to unwind, desperately, to get really drunk and find a one-night stand that you’d wake up without and barely remember the next day. You would’ve loved to get it all out of your system while not thinking of any of them.

You should’ve known better than to assume things would go as planned.

It was one thing for Changmin to show up at Hyunjae’s house without an invite, though Hyunjae tended to be kind and hospitable in that regard unless he absolutely hated someone or if they’d wronged him in some way. Changmin had done neither.

It was a whole other thing for Juyeon to grab your wrist so harshly it bruised your skin, his fingers wrapped around as he stung the surface. You were shocked at first, mostly because Juyeon was a lot of things but aggressive in that regard was rare, but when you looked up into his eyes and saw a genuinely angry gaze, you didn’t really understand.

“Why is Changmin outside asking for you?”

“Don’t touch her like that!” Chanhee was smaller than Juyeon, both fairly slim in build but a difference in height and muscle mass that just made your best friend that much smaller in appearance, and yet he stepped between you two anyway. Chanhee was never really afraid of anything, even if he could get his ass kicked, and it was as admirable as it was stupid.

“I asked you a question.”

“I don’t know,” it was weak, but it was honest, and Juyeon let your wrist go but you were more thinking it had something to do with Hyunjae standing on the opposite side of Chanhee, ready to defend you too. It almost shocked you more, for Juyeon and Hyunjae were incredibly close, had been for years and even before you were in the picture, and yet here it didn’t seem to matter when you felt unsafe.

“Tell me why!”

“I said I don’t know, Juyeon!”

Silence. At least around you both, everything fell quiet. The music was still loud but those within ear shot had caught you both raising your voices, and now you were left having to keep appearances. Acting like nothing was wrong was something you were usually good at. Not caring is something you could do, but when everything threatened to topple over and one thing finally pushed your feelings over the edge to do so, it was hard to simply ignore it.

“I can go to him,” Hyunjae offers, but you stop him the second he takes a step with your hand to his chest.

“It’s fine. I’ll just go,” honestly, it was already a nightmare that he was asking for you so publicly at a party with so many people, but maybe if you played your cards right, it wouldn’t look so bad on your part. You weren’t friends, after all, so you supposed it wouldn’t appear to be that way. Sure, people could be fooled, but only if you played a viable part in it, and you wouldn’t.

Walking outside was a mistake. But when you realised it to be one, it was too late. Turning back might be worse, but walking towards Changmin wasn’t better. He was standing there, completely wet from the rain in a jacket that had no hood. You bit back from calling him stupid, moreso because you’d left your jacket inside entirely and it was cold. Despite the goosebumps on your skin, you refused to show discomfort, collecting yourself with a straightened posture in your short dress.

You stood tall, heels high enough that he was actually a little shorter than you, though it was only really noticeable because you were right in front of each other.

“I brought it for you,” the white garment is neatly folded between his fingers, and you note their softness, that they seem gentle to touch but you snap yourself away from the thought once you notice yourself having it.

“You brought it for me… here?”

You sound more ungrateful than you are. It’s the first time you actually reprimand yourself for the rude tone towards him because it’s not deserved this time, but you don’t quite take it back, reaching for the fabric slowly before you let it fall open to reveal a hoodie that looks good as new.

There’s no way in hell he did that himself.

“You can stop bothering me now,” he lights a cigarette, indifferent and suddenly the insulting tone you’d spoken in doesn’t feel as mean, for he doesn’t seem to care much. If he does, he’s very good at hiding it, to the point of being so good at it that you don’t believe it possible.

“Thanks,” all you can think about is how cold you are now, especially when the fabric is partially warm from where he’d held it and the fact that you know how comfortable this hoodie is. But you were at a party and it would fall awkwardly over your dress. You didn’t want to look awkward, so you choose to be cold instead.

“You should wear it. You’ll get sick,” you send a look his way, confused as a pout falls over your stained lips but again, he seems indifferent. He really, genuinely, doesn’t seem to care.

It drives you insane.

You want to say something, take the chance for once to not be rude and maybe try again to thank him because as frustrating as he is, he was kind enough to get it sorted for you, after weeks of back and forth and refusal of giving him his own hoodie back. Overall, maybe Changmin did show you kindness, albeit very terribly.

“I’d like mine back now,” you supposed that was fair, but the little candle of lit warmth faded to ashes because Changmin simply didn’t stop there. He bit back, and he did so hard in a way you knew to do, but weren’t prepared for now “but if you’d like I can wait. I’m sure you have Juyeon’s dick to ride first.”

The crushing blow to your chest feels foreign. It was something expected to hear yet not from him. Maybe as a joke from Chanhee or an insult from Younghoon, but not him. You weren’t sure why. Neither of you showed much kindness to each other and you couldn’t exactly say you’d expected him to be graceful in speaking to you, but you’d wished it.

“Fuck you.”

It’s an absolutely terrible idea to do as Changmin said. You know it, yet you storm off now wet from the rain to go inside and find the very person that would be a mistake. You know he’s a mistake. He’d left insulting bruises on your wrist just minutes ago and yet you find him in the kitchen pouring another mix of alcohol that has you convinced he’s at least reached a point where the alcohol no longer has to taste good to be drunk.

“Fuck me,” he turns, eyes sharp and dark but also just a hint of confusion.

“What?”

“Do I have to say it again?”

Juyeon shakes his head, a smirk appearing on his lips instead as he downs the little he’d managed to mix so far in his cup. You followed his gaze to a bottle of whiskey that was nearly empty and you reached for the puddle of golden brown liquid to down it, his eyes on you the entire time as you did so.

He waits for you to put the glass down and when you’ve done so, he lifts you up with his hands digging into the back of your upper thigh, the skirt of your dress rising so high you use your hoodie to cover up where your skin is revealed. This was already a mistake, you knew it to be so deep down, but you didn’t care.

Maybe you wanted to somehow prove that Juyeon did care about you. Or maybe you just wanted to spite Changmin. Maybe you just needed sex because your libido was high and you weren’t having enough of it.

Maybe it was all three.

You don’t know which bedroom you’re in but Juyeon is lazy in shutting the door, nearly forgetting to do so before he kicks it shut with the back of his foot. He’s quick to kiss you, sloppy and wet as you drop the clean white hoodie to the floor, discarding it just as Juyeon works on lifting the frustratingly tight fabric up to your hips.

“You’re not wearing underwear?”

You shake your head, wriggling out of the straps of your dress to push it down over your now bare chest, the little fabric on your body all bunched up above your ass and below your chest. You were essentially naked, and yet not quite, wrapping your legs around Juyeon’s waist as he fell on top of you and kissed you back.

You loved kissing. Especially when it was rough and desperate. Necessary like oxygen that you breathed. You loved Juyeon’s kisses, the way he bit your lower lip and roughly rocked against you, though the fabric of his pants against your bare thighs was rough and made you whine in frustration and discomfort.

At least Juyeon wasn’t entirely stupid in realising what the problem was, maybe usually willing and eager to tease and take his time a little more but now he was stripping himself bare so that the friction against both your warm skins wouldn’t hurt for you.

“What the hell did he want?”

You cursed. You cursed because you did not need to think about Changmin when Juyeon’s dick was right there, and yet he’d asked the question. He sounded bitter, angry, but not quite jealous. Maybe if it had been jealousy, you would’ve been okay with it.

“Was just giving me back the hoodie he ruined,” your hand wraps around his cock, stroking him lazily as he inhales sharply, a rough moan right by your ear before he bites down on your neck. Harder than you’re used to, but not enough to fully hurt.

Your body was used to his cock. You realise it more because when he pushes into you, the sting is sharp but easy to adjust to. The first time you’d had sex with Juyeon, you’d needed way more time and he’d given it to you. But now it was second nature and your body knew him. Your body clung to him, desperate to hold.

“You’re such a whiny little whore, d’you know that?”

If the dick wasn’t good, you’d slap him. Though you supposed he wasn’t saying it entirely without reasoning. You were whiny. That, and you were loud, unintentionally so as he picked up the pace, gripping your hip with his free hand to slam into you, your breasts pushing up from the force as your head tilted back in pleasure.

Sex with Juyeon was lazy, definitely without much care but it was good for what it was. He was rough and careless but you trusted him to never hurt you, and if he ever unintentionally did you knew he’d stopped if you asked. You trusted him, despite all his flaws, to see you like this, with your body near bare and vulnerable to him and anything he wished as he spread your legs and pushed you into the mattress.

It was natural and comforting, to find repetition in your behaviour with Juyeon. It was nice when things didn’t change, because change was something that didn’t find you very content.

“H-harder- ah-” your back arches just slightly, and Juyeon takes that moment to wrap both his hands on the side of your hips, digging his nails into the skin as he obeys your demand, your legs clinging to him. The sound of skin roughly meeting repeatedly is loud and penetrating, only covered by the vulgarity of the noises you make. If it weren’t for the loud music yet again, you’re sure everyone could hear you.

Changmin. Could he hear you?

The very thought of him pushes the orgasm you’d initially been building away, because you’re shocked. Why is he in your thoughts so suddenly, with his warm comforting hoodie over his skin that seemed so soft, with a far gentler touch than Juyeon’s?

Not that you minded Juyeon’s touch, but you imagined Changmin’s to be different, even if it might be rough.

You imagined his glasses slipping from behind his ears as he hovered over you, and you wondered if he’d try to adjust them first or if you’d eventually just take them off for him, lay them somewhere to the side while spreading your legs for him.

You wondered what it was like, very briefly, to run your hands through his dark hair and tug on it harshly as he fucked into you, his heavy breaths against your ear as you both shook in a joint orgasm as he came inside you.

You wondered what it was like, how different he was from Juyeon and if so, if it was better.

You can’t quite catch your tongue fast enough when your orgasm grows, not with your thoughts overlapping and twisting in your head and making you wonder about someone you’d never want near you this intimately. Or did you?

“C-Changmin- fuck!”

Your nails dig so hard into Juyeon’s back that you know there will be moonlike crevices on his skin, scratching down into a jagged line as your body shakes, your legs unstable and locked against the man who’s completely still. He’s unmoving, completely, and it takes you another moment of recollection to realise Juyeon didn’t finish.

You can’t say you blame him, when realisation and embarrassment and utter humiliation covers your crimson cheeks. Of all the names, you chose the worst offender. And despite alcohol being in your system, you knew you couldn’t blame it on that.

You’d just committed social suicide to a man you knew wouldn’t keep his mouth shut when he was hurt. And you could tell on his face that there was a pain in his eyes that even you couldn’t say you recognised. He felt insulted, and when you went to move up on the bed to reach him, he pushed off you so fast you thought he detested you.

“Don’t touch me,” it was stern, his tone so cold that you thought he hated you. Juyeon very well could and you weren’t so sure you could blame him. You knew if he’d done this to you, said someone else’s name, that it would cut a wound into you that would never go away and every thought of am I enough would threaten to break you.

You watched in an almost entranced state, the way he picked up all his clothes, and your few attempts at adjusting yourself and walking towards him failed because he slapped your hand away every time.

“Ju- I’m sorry. It’s not what… I- Juyeon.”

He stops, picking up your white hoodie off the floor and shoving it against your chest similarly to how you’d done the same with Changmin when you gave it to him, and it cut you all over again.

“Let me guess, you left this at his house when you let him fuck you?”

You were shocked. Of course you knew it wasn’t true but how could you prove it? Yet your silence was Juyeon’s answer. His assumption that he was right as he bitterly scoffed and rolled his eyes at you like he loathed you.

“I hope you truly end up miserable, Y/N. You deserve it, at this point,” the door slams loud and Juyeon’s gone, leaving you bare and vulnerable and so very lost as the very idea of your social circle and status dwindling into pieces, shattering beneath your feet, becomes a frightening reality to you. Everything you worked on attaining, on creating a you that everyone would envy and want, was potentially threatened with a secret that only you and him knew.

A secret that would ruin you, and you knew well that he loved to run his mouth where it gained him sympathy.

All you could do, was stand still naked with your hoodie covering you just enough in case someone came in, and yet no one did, not for a while.

You were well and truly alone.

act ii

taglist: @sanaxo-o @mosviqu @sunramzi @tbzhubrecs

let me know if you wanna be on the taglist 🩵comments are always appreciated

series masterlist || tbz masterlist

©️strayed-quokka, please do not steal, translate, reuse or rewrite as your own

#okay first of all #lenlen wrote this for me #and I will always be the biggest babydoll enthusiast #like it’s my child you guys #and honestly I cannot fucking wait for the next part because lenlen here decided to leave it on a cliffhanger #like omfg it’s so serious for me #I already knew that the reader was going to moan out JiChangs name and that Juyeon was going to be a pesky little bitch about it #but I definitely didn’t expect for lenlen to leave it on a cliffhanger #I feel a little bad for the reader because I finally got a more insight on her character #but then again I still find her stupid for her further choices (which you told me about)#honestly Younghoon could tone down a bit of his attitude and learn a thing or two from Hyunjae but definitely not Juyeon 🙄#anyways I love love love babydoll and will always love it #minors dni #group: the boyz #member: changmin #artist: strayed quokka #fic rec: babydoll #readers fav recommendation‼️

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immortallindemann · 2 years ago

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Hiiiiii I'm a new Maggie stan (just started listening when suckerpunch debuted) and I always love the boots Mags is wearing, do you know any brands she wears by any chance. I need new brands cause like all the ones I have are by some old brands that no longer make boots. I can't keep wearing all these old combats and cowboys 😭

hello!!! welcome to the fandom!! its always nice to have new people on board 😌 omg I have been dying for someone to ask me this!!!!

Maggie sold a lot of the old boots- that I personally loved- on depop (which broke my heart a little, not gonna lie 😭) but, we love a short queen that wears platform boots 99% of the time!! honestly though? I think she wears pretty much any main-stream platform boot brand! but here's the main ones:

Demonia! Mags has had a few of these over the past year or so! she's had the really popular Swing 815's, and she's also owned the Kera's in white too! (i cant find a photo of her wearing the white Kera's because she only ever wore them once for a photoshoot for Swixxz!) the boots in the picture are also Demonia's, but they can be found on the Dolls Kill website and the boots are called 'Stomp You Out'. (she wears them A LOT) if you dont want to support Dolls Kill, some very similar Demonia's are the Ashes! i have them, and they're probably my most worn platform boots!

New Rock! she still has these ones specifically, they're on the pricer side though... but from what ive heard, the company makes good quality boots that last a long time!! I dont know what these ones are called on the New Rock website as there's quite a few different variations of the same design, but they're called the Knife Combat Boots on Dolls Kill's website!

Dolls Kill! she's had a few pairs from Dolls Kill's in-house brands, like Club Exx and Current Mood. The top picture is Club Exx's Luna Rude Awakening boots, and the second picture is the Reality Bytes platform boots (which I also have!)

Naked Wolf! she sometimes wears these ones, along with the really popular platform trainers that everyone has! (idk the names of the shoes, sorry!)

Killstar! she used to wear the Broom Rider boots EVERYWHERE back in 2018, and my god, I fell in love with Maggie because of those exact boots! she's since sold them (and ill never be over it)

Roc! this picture doesnt really show them well enough, but Maggie has had a few pairs of Roc boots (yes, the Australian school shoes brand...) they gave her a few boots last year as part of a brand deal, and she's kept the white pair that they gave her! she doesn't wear them all that often, so I cant really find any other good pictures of them!

Moonboot! yeah. them. (mixed feelings on them tbh lol) and she's got them in both colours! Mags has worn these during quite a few performances now, including: the Life Support Tour and Paranoia Live at The Roxy!

Lamoda! i think she only really wears these for photoshoots, but they're a frequent in her wardrobe nonetheless! the ones pictured are called the 'Loco For Laces' chunky high platform boot.

Doc Martin's! Mags had a pair of the platform DMs that she used to wear all the time in 2019, but they've since been sold on depop... rip.

Special mentions:

Puma X Fenty platform trainers *sold on depop, but they were worn heavily from 2017-2018

Rick Owens! i know these arent boots, and they're some insane price (like. $1,000 or something like that...) but Mags wears these A LOT.

TUK UK *sold on depop, only really worn for a magazine photoshoot

#no joke ive been dying for someone to ask me about boots #i have a weird knowledge of Demonias and Killstars specifically lmaooo #im hoping to get the Swing 815s for my birthday next year!!! i just want a pair of those bad boys asap #asks

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thexfridax · 4 years ago

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Wynonna Earp Boss Hopes Syfy Finale Made You Feel 'All the Things' — Plus, Scoop on One Happy Wedding Accident

By Matt Webb Mitovich, tvline.com / April 9 2021, 8:02 PM PDT

The following contains spoilers from the Syfy finale of Wynonna Earp.

After four years of protecting Purgatory with her Peacemaker, Wynonna Earp got to quite literally ride off into the sunset. And she did so while straddling a motorcycle, with Doc Holliday seated behind her.

Mind you, the two almost didn’t wind up together. Following the simply beautiful “WayHaught” wedding, Doc (played by Tim Rozon) was determined to put Purgatory in Charlene’s rear view mirror and get to living life as “just a man,” and Wynonna (Melanie Scrofano) felt compelled to stay put as Purgatory’s protector. But with an empowering nudge from li’l sis Waverly (Dominique Provost-Chalkley), Wynonna caught up to her man and professed her love, after which they decided to travel light, for the first time in a long time, and pay their daughter Alice a visit in MIracles, Montana.

TVLine spoke with series creator Emily Andras about crafting this very fine finale, at least one “happy accident” that wound up stirring many emotions, and more.

TVLINE | The finale has just aired…. What emotions do you hope the fans are feeling at this moment?

Just head-to-toe body warmth, and love, and affection, and wistfulness…. And a little bit of bittersweetness. I feel like joy has to be paired with nostalgia, so I hope they’re feeling all the things. But hopefully not hungover!

TVLINE | At what point over the years did you ever envision Wynonna and Doc riding off into the sunset?

Ahhh! I almost never even let myself envision it, you know? It’s so funny — when you start doing a show, you have all sorts of ideas about what pairings are going to rise to the top, who’s going to end up with whom, and one of the joys of Earp is that so many different things have happened. But those two characters have certainly earned the chance to try to be happy, whatever that means to them. I never knew that I would be allowed to end such a romantic pairing with the woman driving the motorcycle and the guy on the back.

TVLINE | I’m watching that final sequence and it almost feels alien, seeing the two of them head off into what I think of as “the real world.” But I also found that viscerally exciting, to see so much ahead for them.

That’s so lovely, thank you for saying that. I feel like having the world ahead of them and being such an unusual couple, I would love to see what happens next for them. I’m sure there will be lots of crazy sex and crazy arguments and crazy laughter. So, godspeed! Godspeed.

TVLINE | When throwing a season-ending wedding, what is Emily Andras’ marching order? “Above all else, this wedding has to be…”?

It has to honor to all of the characters — and by that, I mean it has to try to find a moment for every special pairing on the show, not just WayHaught. I think it’s important to pay due respect to how far Waverly and Doc have come; she never gave up on him, she always saw a better man in him — and now he gets to be the best man! Nedley (Greg Lawson) and Nicole’s (Kat Barrell) relationship, that paternal/daughter bond is so special, so honoring that was very important.

And at the end of the day, I still think the real love affair of the show is the Earp sisters, so I ended to make sure that that was honored. I really love the parallel with the pilot, where Wynonna came into town against her will and was so hungry to leave but was forced to stay. And now you have Waverly secure enough in how their relationship has evolved, that she knows Wynonna deserves to leave again — because she’ll come back.

More than anything, it was about giving every character a moment of happiness. Even Jeremy (Varun Saranga) becoming deputy chief of Black Badge and maybe finding a new date…. It was all about finding everyone a moment of potential joy, after they’ve gone through so much after four seasons.

TVLINE | Talk about the decision to have empty guest chairs laid out with the names of those who are no longer with us or didn’t make it to the wedding.

That was such a happy accident. We were on-set, it was very much in the middle of the pandemic, and we knew we were going to have a limited number of people for the wedding. But then we put out chairs so you could understand where the aisle was, and they looked really empty. So my incredible director, Paolo Barzman, who also did the pilot, and my art director Trevor Smith, pitched this idea to me. I had sort of joked about, “Wouldn’t it be cool if you had the ghosts of characters past?” In the moment, they said, “What if we hung names on the chairs?” and it was just one of those goosebump moments, like, “That’s brilliant.” So then we have people writing up these cards, rushing them out, and it’s honestly one of my favorite things. Whenever I see that Dolls chair, I just can’t help but feel things.

TVLINE | But Mercedes (Dani Kind), to be clear, is still with us.

She’s just out, like, being her best vampire self. She’s out being an amazing vampire, yeah. I still have that spinoff if you want to help me sell that!

TVLINE | If anything caught me a bit off-guard, it was us getting a song from Rachel (played by Martina Ortiz-Luis).

The thing about Martina is that she is a phenomenal singer. She is the anthem singer for the Toronto Maple Leafs — so she’s quite a star here! — and she was on Pilipinas Got Talent back in the day…. It seemed like a waste to not have someone with such an exceptional voice perform! And what better song to lay over the necessary wedding montage than a WayHaught classic (Fleurie’s “Wildwood”), the song that was playing the first time WayHaught kissed. It’s a bit of an Easter egg for those hardcore WayHaughters!

TVLINE | I don’t think anyone would have ever felt like a “Dark Angel Waverly” detour was missing, if you hadn’t spent time on it the episode prior. Why did you feel it was important to go there during one of the final hours?

The truth of it is that honestly we’ve been balancing the spectre of whether we were going to have a Season 5 or not. When we started breaking Season 4 two years ago, we were looking down the barrel of about 24 episodes, so [when you get half that] you’re like, “What are we going to keep, and what are we going to pitch overboard? What can we live without learning about?” I would argue that this idea of Waverly having a darkness inside of her did have to be highlighted after four seasons. I completely agree that in a perfect world I could have done eight episodes of Dark Angel Waverly, exploring that and seeing it come to pass. But if we ever get more story, I don’t know if Waverly has complete control over that part of herself. I dont think it’s “gone.” If Nicole puts mayo instead of mustard on her sandwich, who knows what’s going to sprout out!

TVLINE | I mean, if only to see what other outfits Dark Waverly has.

As long as she keeps her thigh holster, she’s ready to go.

TVLINE | Looking back at these last few episodes, what are you most proud of?

‘m so proud of this cast. It’s so boring, but God, just to see them grow and thrive and shine…. performing comedy and emotion, seeing their commitment to the show, and the feelings…. It’s just been such a joy to see such an amazing group of people get their due. They really are that wonderful, off-screen as well.

I’m also pretty happy — in this day and age, and despite all the fights the show has been through — that if this is the end, I feel like that’s a pretty nice finale, a pretty good topper on the cake. I feel like the fans will feel like they went on a journey, and they left the characters in an interesting, good place. And look, that’s really rare in TV, to end your story the way you want. How can I be anything but grateful, at the end of the day?

TVLINE | When I was writing my tweet the other morning, I wanted to call it a “very fine finale,” but I worried you’d think I was saying it was only “fine.” But it was a very fine finale!

No, you have to keep me hungry! You get to challenge me, Matt. Listen, I just didn’t want to risk…. I’m the queen of 75 cliffhangers, but I feel like the fans have worked so hard for us, for so many years, that it was more important that they got closure, just in case. But there’s always another demon, there’s always another thing to trigger Dark Angel Waverly. There’s always more story, but at least you have this, no matter what.

TVLINE | And if some network or streamer does ride to the rescue, would there be something that brings Wynonna and Doc back to Purgatory? Or might a Season 5 be without the two of them?

Look, the show is called Wynonna Earp, so you need Wynonna Earp. She’s still the champion, she’s still got the magic gun and the best hair on the show — sorry, everyone else!

There are a couple of unresolved issues. We still have Eve, who we kicked out the the Garden very early in the season, and who can kind of shapeshift; she could take on the appearance of any one of our characters! That would certainly throw a wrench in the works in Purgatory. There are a million different reasons to bring Wynonna back, to help out her sister.

TVLINE | And lastly, was there anything you had to cut or just didn’t have room for, or any returning cast you couldn’t fit in?

Oh, tons. But look, you kind of hit the nail on the head earlier. I’m always striving to be better, and some stuff at the end felt a little rushed, with Dark Angel Waverly. I think if it hadn’t been a pandemic, there would have been more people at that wedding. I would have loved four more episodes to round the bend there. But look, that’s Wynonna Earp, man — perfectly imperfect! So that’s what we did, and what a ride it’s been. The ride of a lifetime for me.

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yongtxt · 5 years ago

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hundred [johnny]

word count: 4.5k words

characters: boxer!johnny x doctor!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: blood/wound/stitches mentions, johnny hates hospitals but he likes the pretty doctor, [im not a doctor nor a boxer pls dont say that i have info wrong because I Know]

author’s note: i know this isnt long to some of u but to me it is and i havent written this much for so long im so proud of myself for finishing this:( it isnt that good but this is the first long fic ive written in a while and shhsdjk also i needed to get this out of my system ive thought about this au since that jcc came out where johnny and hyuck was doing muay thai plssss (i couldnt find a better gif tho) ok this is getting too long / feedback is appreciated tysm

Johnny Suh hated hospitals with a burning passion.

It wasn't from a past trauma nor was he afraid of it, it wasn't that serious. He wasn't exactly sure what the cause of it really was. If he had to make a guess, it was probably from the accumulation of the little things, the insignificant factors people would usually dismiss but bothered him enough that it contributed to the big hatred he built for hospitals.

Maybe it was the distinct smell of hospitals, it reeked of death and old people. Maybe it was the atmosphere of the fluorescent-lit hallways, always gloomy and heavy. Maybe it was also the fact that the fees were so expensive and yet the food they provide tasted horrible, even the coffee was a hit or miss. The only upside he could think of was people get better in hospitals, but even that wasn't assured.

Despite how much Johnny despised hospitals, he always finds himself coming back. If he wanted to get better, he had no choice but to go. He would endure the gruesome process over and over again whether it be to treat his wounds or to stitch his cuts.

With his jaw littered with small bruises and his lips busted at the corner, he sat impatiently on the hospital bed as he waited for his doctor. He was fiddling with his fingers, knuckles bruised the same way his face was. He looked beaten up, he always did.

The clothes he wore contradicted the state he was in, they were fresh and laid back. He looked like a college student from the way he dressed. A delinquent more like, if one considered his cuts and bruises. Before heading to the hospital, he always makes it a point to shower and make himself appear presentable to the public. Although no one really bothers to take notice of his effort, only him.

The sliding door opened and Johnny's attention shot up from his phone, his gaze meeting with yours. Your head popped in, peaking through the small crack you made. Your eyes lit up in recognition as it always did whenever you see him.

"Youngho-ssi?" You spoke almost as if it was a question, voice barely above a whisper to make sure you were in the correct room, about to tend the correct patient.

Johnny didn't understand why you always did that, call out his name as if this was the first time you were seeing him. At that point, you've been already acquainted with him enough due to his numerous trips to the hospital. Either way, he nods every time.

You gave him a small smile, widening the door enough so you could enter. You wore a white lab coat, a name tag pinned to your chest and a stethoscope hung around your neck. You were small, although anyone compared to him was bound to be comparatively smaller – that wasn't the point, you looked young and that never fails to astound him every time you go through the door.

You had a clipboard in your hands, scanning through what he assumed to be his condition that a nurse had written earlier after a quick checkup and disinfection of his open wound. Your lips were formed on a tight line, eyebrows furrowed. He continued to stare at you with such amusement.

"You don't have to answer my question, Youngho-ssi, but why are you always here?" You finally broke the silence, startling him in the slightest. You never bothered to ask before, always just offering smiles and small talks while you did your work; maybe his sudden regularity of coming to the hospital recently made your curiosity peaked.

He couldn't blame you. Anybody would be curious why a 24-year-old man keeps coming back to the hospital with no clear explanation.

He cleared his suddenly dry throat, he never liked saying his job. He said, "I box for a living."

"Ah, that makes sense!" Your eyes visibly glimmered, absentmindedly jotting down notes on his medical records. "My coworkers and I thought you were in a gang or something."

"I don't think I would be allowed to be here if I was." He chuckled, making you giggle as well.

"Seo Youngho, 24, minor lip laceration in need of immediate suture." You read of his data from the clipboard, almost comically. It was medical terms he was unfortunately already too familiar with, to him, it basically meant that he had a busted lip that needs to be sewed shut.

"You can just call me Johnny. Youngho sounds too formal to me." He said nonchalantly. You nodded your head to his simple request; it probably was best if you got to know him better since he frequented the hospital so much.

"Alright, Johnny. We'll start the process now, okay?"

With keen eyes, he watched you slip on a pair of surgical gloves. You grabbed a tissue from the metal tray that sat beside him and began folding it into squares. He felt his heartbeat quicken, he hated getting stitches or any form of medical treatments for that matter, but as morbid as it was, he thought of it as punishment for his recklessness in the ring.

"Isn't boxing just, I don't know, senseless violence?" You asked, tone dripping with pure innocence and unadulterated interest as you gently dabbed away the remaining dried blood the nurse failed to clean earlier.

"It's a sport, it's how I bring money to the table." He pursed his lips, ignoring the twinge of pain that surged through his nerves. He visibly relaxed when you placed a hand onto his shoulder to reassure him.

Ever since the first time you got assigned to him, the first thing he took note of was the softness of your hands. You handled him as if he was fragile glass, despite how he easily towered over you. He felt pathetic as a 24-year-old but your gentle touches would greatly help put him at ease.

"I guess. I didn't mean to be rude." You were hesitant, Johnny could tell but he was glad you didn't push on any further. He couldn't handle explaining his occupation when you were about to pierce his skin. "Okay, Johnny, now that your lip is clean and the anesthesia had seeped in, we'll start. I think you know how it goes by now."

"Make it quick, please." He nodded, squinting his eyes shut at the mere contact of a surgical pen grazing over his gaped lips. You were relieved that his cut wasn't too big, you couldn't stomach the idea of putting him in too much pain for longer.

As you picked up the tweezers and string of nylon, you couldn't help but laugh at the six-foot boxer in front of you who was clearly petrified of getting stitches, "This will be done as soon as you know it. You won't really feel it because of the anesthesia, remember? Now count to a hundred backward for me."

Once the numb feeling of nylon dragged through his lips, he swore he saw white spots flicker in his vision. His eyes immediately watered and he tried his best not to squirm under your hold, beginning to count to a hundred backward like you had instructed him to. You admitted it to him the first time you stitched him that it was a trick that you learned from your pediatrician friend. Despite it being for children, it helped to get him distracted while you focused on your job.

Minutes felt like hours, Johnny had been fighting the urge to punch something, anything, to release tension and nerves. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he took a peak and tried to take his attention away from what was currently happening on his lip. His gaze landed on your pretty eyes, how it was narrowed in focus and how your lashes perfectly framed it.

This wasn't the first time he'd observe you up close, there had been many occasions in the past that you had been too close for comfort in order to tend his wounds. It had been too many that it was almost as if he was close to memorizing your features. You were not only beautiful but you were also a smart and capable doctor.

Eventually, you finished and started to rub ointment on his sore lip — the finishing line.

"Try not to eat anything spicy or hard. You know the drill." You grinned at his suddenly pale features, ripping off your gloves as his eyes adjusted to the bright lights of the room. "You're good to go. Be careful next time."

He let out a shaky breath, clearly still winded up from the procedure, "I'll try. Thanks again, doc."

The punching bag felt great against Johnny's fists. There wasn't a feeling in the world that could compare to the impact of leather slamming against his skin. He could last hours mindlessly pummeling the bag if his stamina just allowed him to.

Hyunsik, Johnny's manager and personal trainer, drew away from the punching bag he held in between his arms. He let out a breath and held out a hand to motion that Johnny has done enough.

Johnny was hurting, Hyunsik could see that much. The bandages he had wrapped for the boxer's fingers were turning into a shade of red that they were all too familiar with.

Hyunsik clicked his tongue, "You should've used your gloves."

"How can I grow stronger if I keep relying on them?" Johnny rolled his eyes. His muscles needed a boost and this seemed to be the only logical way to strengthen them — a little blood never hurt anybody.

"Someday you're gonna fracture your hand and you'll be forced out of the ring. Remember that." Hyunsik huffed, his voice stern. "Take them off, I'll clean the blood off."

Johnny reluctantly did as told, unfurling the bandages wrapped around his fingers. The pain was excruciating when the fabric grazed along his tender skin, he winced at the unsightly view of his reopened wounds.

Hyunsik led him back outside of the ring to the benches where the first aid kit was. He made the boxer sit down so he could start cleaning off his wounds. It looked horrific, more so than it usually did and he had no choice but to break the news to Johnny.

"It looks really bad. You need to go get that checked in the hospital and have it sewed back." Hyunsik said, taking a wet towel and carefully dabbing it across Johnny's bloodied knuckles.

He didn't want to go to the hospital. Going to the hospital to have his wounds treated meant that Johnny would be medically required to take days off work to let his hand heal. Johnny frowned, "Don't you have an ointment or something that could help? I can't afford to lose a day of practice."

"Don't you think I know that?" Hyunsik rolled his eyes. "As your manager, I want you to be in top shape for your match next week, even if it means sacrificing a day or two for you to heal."

Johnny could only nod. He sat through Hyunsik's lecture on the changes he should make to his dietary plan and the exercises he should do during his temporary break. It infuriated him that he couldn't do anything about it but nod along.

The incoming match that was set next week would make or break his career as an underground boxer. He didn't have the option of missing it because of some measly reopened wounds. If he had to rest to get better, he had no choice but to suck it up. This was his fault anyway for pushing himself too much.

Johnny showered in the locker rooms and changed into nicer clothes that didn't reek of blood and sweat. His hands were stinging but he shook it off.

He ignored the concerned looks other boxers were giving him and begrudgingly made his way to the hospital to get himself checked in. You wouldn't be happy to see him all bloodied again, he thought.

Much to Johnny's surprise, it wasn't you who was assigned to him. It was a much older doctor with graying hair and a nose stuck too far up in the air. She was rude and condescending, her lack of politeness to her patients was quite appalling. If Johnny wasn't in such a bad mood, he might've complained already.

God, this day couldn't get any worse.

With a meek voice, Johnny asked where you were and at the mention of your name, his doctor gave him a narrowed look. She sneered, "She's handling much more important cases. Does she know you?"

"I think so." Johnny gulped, unsure of the answer himself.

The doctor's grip was tight and she was hasty. It was as if she was trying to speed through the process to just get it over with. Johnny wanted to cry because he was starting to get traumatized by this doctor's procedure, he didn't want to hate the hospital more than he already did.

He internally screamed for your name as he watched the doctor pull on the gloves. The sliding door harshly whipped open and there you were in all your glory, like an angel sent from above to save him from the devil incarnate who was about to pierce his skin.

You were panting and the sheen on your forehead made it obvious that you ran your way to his room. Johnny's heart leaped with glee.

"Unnie, I'll handle him." You said, unable to catch your breath as you made your way inside. "I think the ER needs you more than me."

The doctor seemed hesitant at first but you tried to convince her otherwise. She eventually agreed and left you with Johnny who had a cheesy smile on his face the entire time since you've arrived.

"So Johnny, what happened this time?" You asked, picking up the clipboard that sat next to him on the bed.

"I overdid the punching during training and it reopened some old wounds on my knuckles. It hurts like a bitch."

You pulled a face, "That's a bit intense."

He chuckled, "It's normal."

"Can I please see it?" You opened your palm so he could place his hand on yours. You observed his cuts and the scabs that were beginning to form around it, it was too deep to let it heal on its own so you made the verdict that he needed to get it sewed back together ⁠— as unfortunate as it was since he was a boxer and he needed his hands to box.

You tugged on a new pair of gloves and began the painful procedure, Johnny started counting down even without you instructing him to. You quickly got to work and stitched back his wounds with your lip in between your teeth

Johnny felt squeamish, he could never get used to the feeling of stitches. His eyes were glued shut and he mumbled numbers like it was mantra.

Once you were done, you smiled fondly at your work. You managed to get by with fewer stitches and you felt pride swell up in your chest. Johnny noticed and, as lightheaded as he was, couldn't help but smile as well.

"You're pretty good."

"At stitching?"

Johnny nodded with his cheeks flushed, he made a mental reminder to smack himself in the head later for such a crude comment. You probably thought he was an idiot now.

"I sure hope so." You chuckled, making him blush even deeper if that was even possible. "It's part of my job."

Johnny shook his head in embarrassment, his dark hair bouncing from how vigorously he did it. He mumbled, "That sounded really lame and not smooth, I'm sorry. Please forget I opened my mouth."

You could only chuckle as you apply the ointment around his knuckles. He wanted the ground to open up and just swallow him whole.

"Please let this heal completely, Johnny. Don't apply any strain on your injuries for a couple of days and refrain yourself from carrying anything heavy so that the stitches won't rip." You said, carefully placing down his hand back on his knee. You were gentle as ever, Johnny swooned. "Absolutely no punching for a while."

"I have an important match at the end of next week. Is there any way to speed up the healing process?" Johnny asked, his eyes were almost pleading at you and you blinked at him in surprise.

"Apart from what I just said, there's really nothing else you could do." You pursed your lips, watching his expression visibly deflate. "If you want to have even a sliver of a chance at winning your match, I suggest you do as I say. Your stitches won't take too long to heal, I promise."

If Hyunsik was there with him, he would've probably already scolded him but the point would be the same. He had always prioritized Johnny's health above winning.

"Okay, doc. I'll do my best." Johnny said, defeated.

"You know, I always see the aftermath of your matches and your training. I want to see you in the ring next time when you're not bloody and beaten up yet." You smiled at him and you swore that all the color that was previously drained from Johnny's face came rushing back. "If it's okay."

"Are you serious?" Johnny asked, almost dumbfounded. Did the pretty doctor he'd been crushing on for months really just asked if she could watch his match?

You nodded with the same hue of red now tainting your cheeks.

"O-Of course! It's on Saturday next week! Please come and cheer me on!" Like a little kid, he excitedly rambled on about the details about the upcoming match and you nodded with the same enthusiast as you wrapped bandages around his hands.

You weren't from his world so everything he said sounded foreign to you. The terms he said, the infamy of his opponents, the prominence of it all — you were eager to learn it if it meant seeing him this happy.

You've always known that he hated hospitals. It was clear from the way he acted during your first meeting. He was stiff and tense, the body language he exuded just screamed that he wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there. As he visited the hospital more and more, you noticed the hatred never faltered. He only became better at hiding it from you.

To see him so relaxed and carefree within the four walls he hated with all his being, it was a breath of fresh air and the feeling you had in your chest grew stronger.

"You're good to go. I promise to see you in your match." You were jotting some last-minute details on the clipboard and you missed the way Johnny kept grinning like an idiot. "As much as I love seeing you here, I hate that you keep getting yourself injured. Keep out of trouble for me, Johnny."

You left the room without letting Johnny say another word.

Fuck, Johnny realized he hadn't asked for your number.

Johnny's match started in ten minutes. His heart was pounding in his ears, he almost couldn't hear what Hyunsik was shouting to him.

The underground stadium was filled to the brim with people, he felt more nervous than he did during his first boxing match. A lot was at stake for this win, he needed the belt. He was desperate for it.

"Johnny, are you listening to me?" Hyunsik raised his voice, aggressively slapping Johnny's cheeks together in his hands so he could focus on him. The boxer's mind was fleeting and it was his job to pull him back to reality now.

He hadn't seen you since last week and as much as he wanted to go back to the hospital to see you, he refused to badly hurt himself in the days that led up to the match. Johnny scanned the crowd for your face but he couldn't see it. You weren't there.

At the lack of your turnout, he failed to mask his disappointment. Hyunsik let out an aggravated groan and pulled the boxer on his feet to berate him further.

"Johnny, please for the love of all things holy, look me in the eye."

"I'm sorry. I'm okay now. I'm listening."

"Good because your match is starting soon and I need you to win this. All your hardships and sacrifices boils down to this match, you hear me?" Hyunsik bellowed, trying his best to keep his voice louder than the cries and chants of the audience. "Show them what Johnny Suh is capable of!"

Johnny nodded fervently, forcing himself into a state of serenity of peacefulness. He let out heavy breaths to even out his breathing as his team surrounded him, prepping him for what was about to come.

Hyunsik raised his hand at Johnny. He had five minutes left until his match started and he wasn't calming down.

"Can I please have some water?" Johnny asked and his medic stumbled on his feet to fetch him a bottle from the nearby cooler. He couldn't help but let out a shaky chuckle, his team seemed tenser than he was.

He downed the bottle as soon as it reached his hand. His hand was shaky. Goddammit, why was he so nervous?

At the corner of his eye, he saw Hyunsik making his way over to the barricade that separated his corner to the rest of the stadium. He arched his neck in a way that would let him take a peek what was so important that Hyunsik had to leave his side when the match was starting in a few minutes.

It seemed like Hyunsik was trying to stop a girl who was forcing her way in through the barricade. His stomach lurched at the sight of her familiar face.

As if he was acting purely on instinct, Johnny shot up from his seat and ran towards you. Hyunsik held up his arm to stop him from going any closer to you. You could've been a deranged fan, for all Hyunsik knows.

"Johnny-"

"I know her."

Hyunsik was startled at his response and started to profusely apologize to you. You looked nothing but smug and Johnny let out a breathy laugh that helped unravel the knots in his stomach. The boxer quietly motioned for him to take his leave and Hyunsik hesitantly did as told only after tapping his wrist as a sign that time was ticking.

You bowed at him apologetically, "I'm so sorry I'm late! There was this damn patient-"

"It's okay. You're here now." He cut you off, a cheesy smile on his face. You easily reciprocated it back.

"I just came down here to wish you good luck." You said with the usual confidence in your tone gone and now replaced with a sudden timidness and bashfulness. "Not like you need it or anything."

"Where are you sitting?" Johnny asked, noticing that you were struggling to keep your attention on his eyes. He peered down and realized that he didn't have a shirt on, he chuckled.

You pointed near the walls of the stadium and he strained his vision to see so far away. He pursed his lips and let out a noise of discontent. You said that it was the only seats available because you were so late.

"Why don't you sit here with them? They wouldn't mind." Johnny said, jutting his thumb over to his team who was furtively watching his interaction.

"Oh no, it's okay."

"I insist. I want you to see me win up close."

You blushed a deep shade of scarlet and Johnny grinned at his successful attempt at a flirt. Was it even a flirt or was it an ego stroke? Either way, it didn't matter because you were smiling at him. You were easing his nerves and you didn't even know.

"I got out of my shift early so I wouldn't be in the hospital later to stitch you up." You teased, softly prodding his shoulder blade.

Johnny playfully puffed out his chest, "I don't plan on getting too injured today, I wanna look cool in front of you."

"Whatever you say, Johnny."

"But I'm nervous. I'm actually really nervous today." Johnny mumbled as if he didn't want anyone else in on your conversation, gone all traces of his cockiness as his heart thudded erratically against his chest when he heard Hyunsik's call of the last minute until he has to go inside the ring.

You gingerly reached for his taped hands and gave it a gentle squeeze, "Just count back from a hundred like I always tell you to. You'll do fine."

"Wait for me after the match, okay?" And so you did.

Counting down the numbers, Johnny clambered inside the ring and the bell rang to signal the start of the match. Being in the medical field meant that you were against all forms of violence so you couldn't really watch the entirety of the match without feeling sick to your stomach. Johnny didn't care, he was just happy that you kept your promise and was cheering him on.

It was hectic and everything was happening all at once. It was loud and everybody was screaming. This wasn't your world, it was Johnny's and your heart fluttered at the thought that he was willing to let you in it.

Eventually, the match ended in Johnny's favor and the next thing you knew, you were being hoisted up in the air. You had the biggest smile on your face, similar to Johnny's who now had a shiny belt slung over his shoulder. All his hard work and all his trips to the hospital paid off.

"Congrats on your win!" You exclaimed, placing your palms on his chest to steady yourself.

"I wanted you to see me get the belt." He admittedly sheepishly, reaching out to hold your wrists in his bruised hands.

"Aren't you hurt in any way? We can drop by the hospital if you want." You asked, checking to see if he had any major injuries but true to his word, Johnny was inflicted little to no injuries during the match, exclude the few bruises on his jaw and a busted lip

"Actually, I'd rather we get some coffee instead." Johnny said, the small smile on his lips making you chuckle.

"I'm sorry, I don't date my patients." You smirked at Johnny's crestfallen expression, softly shoving his side to make it known that you were only joking.

Johnny pulled a face, releasing a breath he didn't realize he was holding once he realized your joke. He played along, "I think you can make me an exception, I don't usually invite people to my matches."

"So this is about getting even, huh?" You were teasing him and now your faces were merely inches apart but before Johnny could even think of leaning in, you spun around and grabbed his hand once more. "C'mon then, my treat!"

Johnny let out a laugh. A boxer and a doctor, who would've thought?

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swiss-cheeze · 4 years ago

Text

French Road, East || Spencer Reid

Request: YES/NO: Hi! Do you take requests?? If you do, can I please request a Spencer x Reader (Including the BAU), where they are dating and the reader is a year or so younger than spencer, but just as smart and very loved by the team, and one day she has to save the team from an unsub and gets really hurt and after everyone is safe they are all really worried about her?? Idk if that made sense at all. Love you work!

A/N: OKAY SO, myself and a few other tumblr accounts got sent this exact same request from the same requester. I have spoken with all of the accounts i know of that have gotten the request and we have all mutually agreed that we will continue with our own fics in our own way on the basis/sense of ‘every writer is different and it's cool to see how others interpret the same request’, please go check out their fics too but please also dont message any of us about this little thing thats happened or saying one was better than the other because that's not what we’re doing here.

We write because we love writing and we love making worlds and being creative, this is a mutual agreement, yes we’re not too pleased with this happening but we are fine with going ahead with both of our fics.

Thank you.

A/N: I also got a little carried away with this little thing and kind of forgot about the ‘they get hurt’ part and instead left the end open for angst purposes; possibly a second part if requested? I don't know. This is also 10 full pages on Google Docs.

Words: 5727

Gender: they/them, none.

Warnings: descripton of people being beaten, kidnapping, mention and use of drugs, previous trauma of the BAU team brought to light, mentions of sexual abuse and assualt, mentions of possible rape.

Description: when 6/8 of the BAU team gets kidnapped, it's up to you and Garcia to find them before it's too late, but what happens when an old nightmare may consume someone's life again?

PART 2: https://snitchthewitch.tumblr.com/post/626602019637149696/french-road-east-apartment-23-spencer-reid

------

Spencer had slept over at Dereks after they had both consulted over their paperwork while you had gone to yours and Spencer's apartment alone, normally you two would arrive at work together with coffee ready for the day but today it just felt...off. Coffee in hand you entered the elevator and checked your work phone for any missed messages.

Derek Morgan phone (4)

Derek Morgan imessage (6)

Spencer Reid phone (2)

Spencer Reid imessage (4)

Okay, that was a bit weird. They normally called once, maybe twice, had your phone shut down last night? As you entered onto level 6 you stepped off to the side of the opening on the hallway, out of people's way, as you opened your phone for the messages, Derek first.

‘Going out with Spence and Pen’

‘Spencer misses you’

‘Pen says she wants to hug you’

‘We’re fucjlkeddd’

‘I don't think somethings okay’

‘Pick up’

Fuck, okay, maybe they just encountered a mugger? Spencer next.

‘mISS YOUUU’

‘Derek ssaysys he doeessdnt frrl ojay’

‘Someoned follow us’

‘French road, east’

What the fuck? So apparently they got followed? And then? What the hell is french road east? Was it an actual road to the east? Maybe the voice messages would help.

“HEY (Y/N/N)!” its Derek, “WE’RE HAVING OUR BEST TIME! WISH YOU WERE HERE!” the music was as loud as Derek was shouting in your ear, you couldn't help but smile.

“(Y/N)!” Spencer, “I MISS YOUUU!” you laughed at his drunk talking, “SHOTS!” and it finished.

“Hey (Y/n), we’re uh,” a laugh, it's Derek, “we’re walking back to my place now, with Pen and Pretty Boy over here,” you heard a faint shout of your name before laughter and the call ended. There was one voice message left, “someones following us. Under six foot, black clothes and looks disarmed but I can't tell from where we are and it's dark. I'll update you later (Y/n), i'll keep Pretty Ricky safe. I promise” and that was it. You brought your phone away from your ear and looked at it skeptically, Derek's story was backed up by Spencer because they both said they were being followed, Garcia hasn't messaged you though, she probably got cut off from her phone before anything happened, probably in Derek's pants pocket. Maybe they were playing a prank? No they wouldn't, Derek’s voice was too certain to be a prank. You shook your head from the thoughts before walking into the Bullpen and dumping your bag at your desk and looking around, Anderson, Mike, Daffey, even Esmerelda was at work today and yet you couldn't spot a single one of your teammates.

Okay, maybe they all slept in? You walked up to Hotch's office and knocked before putting your head through the door; looks the same as it was left. Funny. Hotch was always the first one in, if he ever left at all. You walked to Rossi's office and yet this was the same as Hotch’s; untouched and unmoved. Okay, this was a little scary, you made your way to the conference room with quick feet as the creek of the door being opened sent a shiver down your spine as no one was waiting for a case or even grabbing coffee, but you did notice the one folder that sat alone in the middle of the table. Cautiously, you made your way over to the file, picked it up and opened it, the photos inside the folder almost made you throw up.

Hotch, Emily, Derek, Spencer, JJ and Rossi were all sitting against a wall, beaten, bruised and dirty, arms positioned behind their backs. Underneath the photo was a piece of paper with bold red writing, almost blood like.

YOU WERE WRONG.

Your throat constricted as your breathing increased, you started hyperventilating as you heard the click clack of a certain pair of heels.

“(Y/N)!” Garcia yelled, she was running as quickly as she could with her platform, a file and laptop in her arms, “the-the team they've” she took a breath, “they've been taken, captured, abducted!” it took Garcia a few seconds to realise that you were close to fainting. Garcia put her things down on the table as she directed you to sit in a chair, got you a cup of water and started the breathing exercises that she remembered Spencer teaching her, he taught everyone tricks to help those when having a panic or anxiety attack as its something they would definitely encounter during their time with both agents, victims and unsubs, a few minutes passed and you finally calmed down.

“T-they, they tried to contact me” you said quietly as you looked at Garcia who was red eyed.

“And i was there (Y/n), they dropped me off home and where going back to Dereks, i didn't know if they made it or not because i had already past out by the time my head hit the pillow” Garcia reminded you, it took you a moment to realise but you where both in the same situation, and you nodded as the plan started coming together in your mind.

“Okay,” you stood up as Garcia opened her laptop, “when did you find out?” you asked, you needed to determine how long each of you knew the team was missing.

“I unlocked the batcave and I had the same file on my desk, when I saw the photos I ran up here and then to you,” you nodded as Garcia spoke.

“Okay, I want cameras of every place each of our team members have been, bars, apartments, anything and everything. See if there are any recurring cars or bikes or vans that drive past the streets, do facial recognition on anyone following them like with Reid and Morgan, see if it's happened to all of them.” you took a breath as you called in someone from the bullpen and handed them both the files you and Garcia had been given, “Get this to the lab for fingerprints, this is top priority; we have a team missing” you'd told them, they nodded slightly scared and confused before walking off as Garcia started talking.

“I've got the filters on and they're searching but it's going to take some time,” Garcia said sadly.

“Look up previous cases the BAU has had including the words ‘you were wrong’, ‘French Road’ and ‘East’, possibly other words like ‘it was wrong’, ‘they are/were wrong’ that type of thing, date it back to Rossi's days,” you ordered Garcia.

“(Y/n), a lot of those files are physical if you go back to Rossi,” the tech analyst reminded you.

“I know but still, set filters for that and go as far back as you're able, tell me if you get any hits, i'm going to go down to the file room and i'm going to go back as far as Rossi's days for the physical copies until he started going digital,” you told Garcia, she looked reluctant to let you go so you moved to where she was sitting and you gave her a large hug, “we’ll find them Pen, i promise” you mumbled into her cherry scented hair.

“What about Spencer?” she asked softly as the two of you let go of each other.

“He sent me a message saying ‘french road east’, that has to mean something,” you smiled, “i'm going to try and find that road through all of DC and if there's a hit i'm going to go there and see what's up with it, it might be where they were taken or a street Spencer noted as an important thing for us to know” Garcia nodded and quickly sat back down and started typing on her laptop as you left.

God only knows what your teammates are going through right now.

-----

“YOU SON OF A BITCH” Derek yelled as J.J. was dragged to the middle of the floor and repeatedly beaten.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT” Hotch yelled as J.J. started to whimper, the people stopped at Hotch's comment and left J.J. on the floor, Emily and Spencer scrambling with their hands bound to get to their teammate, making sure she was okay.

“What do we want? We want you guys on our side!” one of the people said, he was happy, how could this make anyone happy?

“FBI agents in our group? We’d rule the world!” another one exclaimed as the rest of the group laughed.

“It obviously took a lot of time and planning didn't it? To capture all of us” Hotch said cooly, though on the inside he was boiling.

“Six months,” someone said, it was a new voice that came from the entrance of...the sewers? Poor Spencer was probably having an attack with all these germs.

“Hey boss! We got ‘em” another one said, god there was too many to remember.

“I can see, you missed two though” the Boss said as he looked at the team, a few of his men dragged Emily, Spencer and J.J. back to the wall they all sat at, “genius's lover, and the black guy's girlfriend” the man noted as his men became eerily quiet.

“The blonde girl was with that skinny guy,” a man pointed to Spencer, “And that one,” he pointed to Derek, “but they kept going to crowded places and bumping into people that we couldn't get them, and the other...one”

“The sexy one?” the boss's voice rang out with a grin.

“YOU LEAVE (Y/N) OUT OF THIS YOU BAS-” Spencer yelled before one of the men kicked him in the stomach, causing him to cough harshly.

“Shut it druggie” the Boss said, the looks on the teams faces gave him all the pleasure, “oh yeah, we know all about you guys; how Hotchner lost his wife, Rossi has had 3 divorces, Morgan was sexually abused, Prentiss has had an abortion at 15 and J.J., sweet little J.J. had a miscarrige” snickers from the men could be heard as the team looked away, embarrassment? No, just confused as to how these people knew such intimate things about them.

“And that little lover of yours, genius?” another voice questioned, the voice came toward Spencer, gripped the poor boy's hair and ripped his head up to look up at him as a pained expression came over the doctor, “they’re in for it big!” he cackled, “gonna have a lot of fun with them when we get them later,” and with that he threw Spencer against the wall, Spencer groaned as a few of his teammates called his name but he didn't register it, only the pounding in his ears and the feeling of blood rushing down his head. And with that, the men and their boss left, the door to the sewer room shut and the click of a lock echoed around the room, the silence the team heard afterwards was loud, deafening.

------

“What’ve we got Garcia?” you asked the analyst as you walked back into the room, placing 3 files on the table in front of her.

“Okay, very few cases including those words you gave me, a lot of the cases were only one unsub or two and I highly doubt there were only two unsubs so I crossed them off and? I got nothing,” the girl sighed as she got rid of the tabs to continue working, “the facial recognition software and car registration is still going, i've got hits for all of our friends being in the places that they mentioned, all of them had unfortunately been walking at the time but they go from one camera to another and then suddenly they're gone,”

“So our unsubs are sophisticated, this definitely took time to plan and get the right things for,” you mumbled as you looked at the victim board Garcia had hastily made up on the clear plastic, each member of your team's faces were up there along with a few other colour pieces of paper for the unsubs, and that's it.

“I haven't gotten any hits on the cars either” Garcia mentioned softly, you nodded.

“Okay well, i've got three cases here that all mention those words from before. First one is a group of five unsubs from Rossis and Gideons days but a lot of them are in jail if not all of them, the second is a cult group from Missouri and the last one is a gang of over thirty people; and not all of those thirty people had been found, prosecuted, jailed, killed and etcetera you get it” you fanned out the files and opened each of them.

“Which one do we think it is?” Garcia asked, we had no leads of which one it really is, so you took a breath and read over the files.

“Okay well, the five unsubs are all in jail and only two have been let out of prison in the last six months and it wouldn't be them because they only have two people in their gang, they’re loyal so they wouldn't start a new group without the originals” you closed the file and pushed it away and moved onto the other one, “the cult is rather big but they’re based in Missouri and i don't think they’d travel all the way over here to kidnap agents. This isn't religious or anything and they are so, definitely not them” you closed the file and landed on the last one, “okay, this one,” you looked over the file as Garcia started typing away, “fifteen have gotten out of jail in the past 2 years, five where never found and the rest are still in jail” you looked to Garcia, “this could be it”

“AH HA!” Garcia exclaimed, “i have a hit on three of those people who are in the system and they are following our lovely friends” Garcia typed another second as multiple video cameras came up showing your friends walking (or stumbling depending on who it was) along with one of three people following behind them a few feet.

“It has to be them then,” you said, “i'll go back down and find the rest of the files, Garcia i want you to find every bit of land, buildings, warehouses and houses they have ever bought, i want to know what they ate for breakfast on the third of january last year, i want to know what plumbing system they used in 2016; i wante everything” you said, albeit forcefully, as you walked out of the room and towards the file room again as Anderson walked back into the conference room and handed Garcia a few papers.

“Thank you Anderson,” Garcia mumbled as he looked over the paper, and sure enough there was fingerprints that matched one of the people who followed your teammates, Garcia then pulled up the video surveillance of the BAU and the facial recognition was quick to find the man enter the room, place the folder down with glove-less hands before walking out, he had a visitors pass.

-------

The scraping of metal against the floor awoke each member of the team slowly as a few people walked into the room, placed food trays on the ground in front of each team member, uncuffed the team and then walked out. The team looked to each other as a voice floated through a P.A. system above them.

“It isn't poisoned, and if you don't eat it then that's up to you but you will starve,” and the system shut off with a harsh beep.

“Hotch?” Derek asked.

“Eat unless you want to die,” was all their unit chief said before he moved forward and started eating the sandwich he had. Emily followed suit and gave a throaty moan as she drank the water from the goblet on the tray, the others soon followed.

-------

“There's nothing,” Garcia said as you entered the room again, “they don't have any land or anything,”

“Well find something then,” you said harshly, Garcia jumped slightly at your harsh tone but started typing again as you pinned up photos of each of the members out of the prison, “have you done a deep search on each person that's out of prison and that wasn't found?” you asked Garcia.

“Yes! Yes, five of the fifteen have alibis from the night our friends got taken and i can't find the rest nor can i find those other five that were never found, they really are off the grid (Y/n)” Garcia said as her fingers flew fast against the keyboard, you looked at the clock on the other side of the room.

“Ten hours,” you muttered, “god only knows what they’re going through,” you rubbed your hand over your face and paced slightly, “we have 15 persons of interest and we can't find them, do the ones with alibis have addresses?”

“They all do, three have work and home and the other two dont work and are stay-at-home-dads, all of their names and addresses have been sent to your phone” Garcia told you as a ping from your phone sounded.

“Okay, i'm going to go and check out that place Spencer gave me before he got taken, i'm gonna grab a few other people to go to other addresses because it'll save time and then regroup back here,” you said as you pulled your phone to your ear and started calling a few people.

You parked the car and made your way to French Road which was, as Spencer did say, to the east of the FBI headquarters. It looked like any other little street, a few cafes and a few empty blocks, it wasn't in the city but it wasn't in the suburbs; it wasn't deserted but it wasn't crowded, you noted this. Spencer and Derek weren't taken from here because they were in the middle of the city at the time of abduction, so there has to be something here that Spencer saw to make you come here. You looked in every alleyway on both sides of the street, doing a shallow dig in the dumpsters, opening a few cafe doors and asking a few questions but ending up with nothing. You let out a huff as you looked up and down the street again, until you realised something.

This was a dead end street. The end was a large circle so cars could do a U-turn and go the opposite way, stationed at the end of the street is a path to some sort of forest/secluded jogging track, this had to be a lead, it has to be. The leaves and sticks crunched as you walked along the track, your gun positioned next to you in your hand, ready for action whenever needed, that's when your phone made a large shrill and scared you half to death.

“What is it Mike?” you asked into the receiver after realising it was the other team who was out asking questions.

“We have a lead for the group from one of the stay-at-home-dads; they’ve been planning this for awhile but haven't put effort into it except for the past six months. We couldn't get a name because the guy was too loyal and was convinced they’d come after him but he did tell us that they tried to get in contact with him to regroup, he obviously refused but they left him alone after that, one phone call and nothing else,” Mike said, you could hear the slam of a car door as he got into one of the SUVs with his partner.

“Okay, that's good Mike, get that to Garcia and see if she can try and trace that call and what tower it's pinged from,” and with that you hung up as you heard Mike say ‘got it’ before the line went dead. You looked as far down the path as you could from where you stood but didn't go any further, if this was a lead then you would need backup and probable cause as to why you're there.

“All five of those men checked out with the same story, they each got a call asking them to rejoin the team and they refused, the caller disconnected right after that but they haven't gotten any threats since then. Unfortunately i couldn't find a tower it was pinging from and the number was from five different burner phones too,” Garcia said as you looked over the victim board.

“Background searches with those ten we had earlier?” you asked, “found anything else?”

“Um one, he's only 26 and but its a loose thread,” the picture came onto the screen, the man looked like he could pass as 16, “James Micheal, 26, the only thing i could find was that his credit card has weird transactions over the past six months so it fits our timeline however, i can't find the account it's going to so it must be a bugged one or fake or something similar” Garcia said as she brought up the transactions.

“Found him on the streets?” you asked, Garcia grinned and brought up a video feed, and upon further inspection, plus audio, you now had a profile.

-------

“Right-o,” a voice said, the metal door screeched open causing the team to wince as he and 2 other men stepped in, “who wants to go first?” he questioned, the sickening grin could be heard through his speech as the sewer was way too dark to see 3 feet in front of them.

“Grab the kid, he had the addiction,” another voice muttered before the men moved forward.

“HEY FUCK OFF,” Spencer yelled as two of the men tried to pin him down, Derek started scrambling towards Spencer to help but after a nasty blow to the jaw he backed away with guilt.

“Get the needle,” one of them said, this caused Spencer to tense, fuckfuckfuckfuck, this can't be happening, no way are they gonna inject him again.

“Look nerd, it's your old friend!” the first man said as he shook a small clear bottle in the slim stream of light from the roof, and sure enough there was a label with the one word that caused Spencer's fight or flight to make its appearance, Dilaudid.

“NO, DON'T YOU D-” a punch to the jaw caused Spencer to splutter and breath heavily as his arm was grabbed roughly, tied and the needle entered into his skin and vein, he sobbed. The team heard Spencer whimper as he felt the liquid inject into his veins and bloodstream, the telltale shortness of breath was quick to take its mark along with the immediate drowsiness as the men walked out without saying another word.

“SPENCE” J.J. exclaimed as the man in question fell into a slumber and the team crowded around the twitching boy, it was just like last time.

“Protect him,” Hotch said, “don't let them take him in this state, fight, bite, kick, i dont give a single shit,” the team looked at Hotch and nodded as they all took a silent oath to protect their friend.

------

“Our unsubs are up to ten people, possibly fifteen or more if they have recruited new people,” you started the profile with Garcia standing next to you, “we have one person of interest as of right now, James Micheal, we have video evidence and audio evidence of him speaking to each member of the BAU team trying to proposition them, as you all know a few of our team members would have ignored him, and a few would have talked or said a simple no; those who didn't say anything he continued to walk next to and annoy until that team member said something,” you took a breath, “we have evidence of James stalking the BAU team for the past 4 months from their work, to their home, to where they go for dinner on a special night or the bar; this includes both myself and Garcia in this stalking pile, we have added extra security to our own homes.”

“James has been making up to five thousand dollar transactions to some bugged account for the past six months and another two thousand dollars to a seperate account 2 months prior to those first six months,” Garcia was now delivering the digital trail, “this means he has been with this team for at least eight months, possibly more, he is most likely new, shy and unsure of what he is doing. James is being used and he knows he is but he has no way out as our unsubs keep saying things like ‘ill kill your family’, ‘you're nothing without us’, stuff like that,” Garcia used her hands to talk as she also pointed to the victim board to the photo of James’ driver's license.

“This team on unsubs are highly dangerous and we must proceed with caution around and with them, they all have gotten out of jail in the past 2 years and they obviously have a vengeance plan, please remember this. We also have a lead to where this team of unsubs could possibly be hiding but until we have James we cannot infiltrate the area. There is a fake missing person report out for James so we can hopefully get him into questioning, thank you,” and with that the people around you filtered away back to where they were meant to be going. You turned to Garcia.

“Do you think that was enough? What if we don't get to them wh-”

“Garcia stop, we cant think like that, we are the best of the best even without the team, okay?” you held Garcia enough to ground her as she nodded and wiped her tears.

“SSA (L/n)?” a new voice asked, you looked to the glass doors and sure enough, James Micheal was waiting there.

“James,” you said as you walked towards him.

“I saw the flyers and I just have one proposition,” James said, his voice was deep and definitely didn't match his face.

“What is it?” you asked as you walked to the interrogation room and allowed James to sit down in front of you with your back to the mirror, Garcia and Anderson were already standing in the small room before the interrogation room.

“I want protection until those guys are back in prison, i don't want them anywhere near me and i don't want them to find me,” James said, his voice was ridden with anxiety, you nodded.

“We can do that James, it's alright,” you reassured the man in front of you, “can you tell us who is in this group? Where are they staying?” you asked, James nodded.

“There's ten in the group, they're off the beaten track down some street in the east-”

“French Road?” you questioned, James nodded.

“Yeah, yeah that one,” he agreed, that was everything you needed from the previous encounter, “they don't have a lot of security but they’re pretty sophisticated with what they have on hand. They know everything about all of that team though,” Jack mentioned, “Emily got an abortion and that Red dude?”

“Reid” you corrected.

“Reid, they know of his Dilaudid thing and Hotch and his wife - they know everything,” Jack was shaking now, “they-they said they were going to use that against the team, the addiction, the trauma all of that”

“They’re going to dose Reid?” you asked with your shaken voice, that wasn't a good thing. Jack nodded as he looked to the clock.

“Most likely have already,” he whispered, you looked to the clock, 12 hours since the disappearance. Fuck. You nodded.

“You’ll be taken by another agent to a safe house and let out when this team is apprehended,” was all you said before walking out of the room and letting the door shut behind you. Your throat tightened and you couldn't breath as you sunk to your knees, Garcia and Anderson rushing to you.

“Breath (Y/n), breath” Garcia reminded you, “breath with me my sweetness” she said, Garcia made more effort to show her breathing as you tried to copy her, a few minutes passed before you had finally calmed down, tears streaked your eyes as you bumbled your words.

“I-its French road, Spencer was onto something,” you mumbled softly, “th-they know everything, from Reid's addi-addiction to Emily, and Hotch's wife,” you took a deep breath, “I-I want S.W.A.T. stationed with me, w-we’re going to infiltrate that place with the hel-lp of Jack and his direction-ns, possibly a map,” you looked to Anderson who nodded and walked out while taking out his phone to call for S.W.A.T., “Garcia i dont want you there,” you said, looking at the girl, she nodded in understanding as you stood up and started walking towards the way of the S.W.A.T. team.

------

J.J, Derek, Emily, Hotch and Rossi all whimpered as each member got kicked, punched, pulled, twisted and everything in between, Spencer was only just coming to from the drugs.

“N-no, dont,” Spencer whimpered, he was weak and could barely open his eyes but soon slipped back into a slumber.

“Y-you won't get away with this,” Emily whispered as one of the men gripped her jaw, her voice hoarse and scratchy.

“Oh darling, we will,” the man grinned as he threw the girl to the floor as the others piled the team on top of the others, all groaning and silently crying.

In retrospect, (Y/n) was rather glad that all members of the team were in the room when the door was busted open.

“FBI, PUT YOUR HANDS UP,” you yelled, the words echoing around the room, the men snickered as S.W.A.T. trained their guns on the men.

“It’s alright boys,” the boss said, your eyes trained towards the voice.

“Let. My team. Go,” you said calmly, gun now cocked, the man laughed.

“Go on boys,” the men moved out of the room but the boss stayed standing.

“Grab the team,” you said to S.W.A.T. behind you, the men walked in slowly and trusted you with your trained gun as they started carrying or walking out your team members, one having to cradle Spencer bridal style, “ambulance,” you said into the mic on your vest, “we need an ambulance for a poentional OD, Dilaudid was used, possibly a cocktail of other drugs but its unknown. Dont use other narcotics and if i find out you do i will be going to jail due to murder of doctors and nurses,” the sirens wailed in the distance.

“You’ve got tendencies too,” the boss said in front of you, “murder, killing, everything” you scoffed.

“Everyone does, its whether we have the empathy and understanding of ‘that's wrong’, which is why we don't do it unlike you people,” you seethed through your teeth, “hands up, you are under arrest for the kidnapping and torture of six FBI agents,” the man stayed silent for a moment.

“(Y/n) (L/n),” the man said, “pathetically in love with Agent Spencer Re-”

“It’s Doctor,” a voice said behind you, the cock of a gun could be heard before the tell-tale sound of a bullet being fired next to you, your natural reflexes made you dive to the right (as the bullet came from the left) as the boss was hit in the forehead and fell to the floor. You looked to the gun carrier.

Spencer Reid.

Gun held out straight, no tremble and a stern look.

Spencer looked to you and tears immediately spilled from his eyes as you stayed stone against the floor, “i see you got my message,” Spencer said softly with a smile before he collapsed to the floor in a heap of limbs, the gun clattering to the floor as paramedics rush to Spencers aid.

It seemed to go in slow motion, everything whizzed past you as other paramedics helped you to your feet, your eyes glassy and vision blurred as you got brought to the back of an ambulance. Around you each member of your team was being attended to, brought to a stretcher and taken in another ambulance, eight ambulance’s in total.

It was okay, you got all of the men, all of your team was safe.

Except.

“HES FLATLINING”

“We need to get him to the hospital NOW!”

“HE'S GOING TO O.D.”

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