#I also think he would beg Band to let him color her hair until she agreed aahah

[yo-yo-yoshiko]

I think Aurelio probably missed his calling as a hair stylist tbh...

[fluloa]

my headcanons for the sully family

JAKE:

- has an apron that says ‘kiss the chef’

- has thought about getting an ear piercing and would like to

- always itchy, like will be constantly scratching at a random part of his body during a casual conversation

- had a loner phase when he was in middle school

- doesn’t like fuzzy things, he hates the texture and the way it feels on his skin, gives him a bad type of goosebumps

- adhd. said what i said

- flexes his big dad muscles every chance he can get (good for him tbh)

- finds it so relaxing when neytiri plays with his hair

- is a big purrer, to the point where it’s embarassing and he HATES it but he can’t help it

- cries every single time he watches the start of finding nemo

- hates watching reality tv

NEYTIRI:

- loves watching reality tv

- bites off her toenails (sorry not sorry)

- really likes apple juice

- loves the song cover me in sunshine by pink, every time she plays it, lo’ak screams out in agony

- a sad beige baby mom

- makes weird faces when feeding babies and does the sound ‘nom nom nom’

- loves cats. jake got one for her for her birthday and he doesn’t think she’s ever seen her happier

- wine lover and proud (especially with these little shit of a kids)

- has a collection of perfumes and jewellery that she only touched like once or twice. poor girl just forgets about them bc of all the stress she’s holdin

- the type of mom to demand every kid’s room is clean when somebody is going to be over. lo’ak is always the one to say “they won’t even be coming into our room!”

- lo’ak gets a whooping for that

NETEYAM:

- asks jake for his old band t-shirts

- loves water parks and will say weeee when going down the slides

- lets tuk put makeup on his face. but that stopped after she used some cheap shop makeup on him and he got an allergic reaction from it

- sometimes he wears belt with his jeans and it is funny

- always forgets to knock before opening doors. once caught jake butt naked and has never been the same again

- his favourite color is purple but he says it’s blue so that people don’t make fun of him

- loves playing laser tag even though he sucks ass at it

- he’s a fan of marvel and he’s always first at the cinemas when a movie comes out

- likes to skateboard. surprisingly very good at it since he’s only used it like ten times since he got it for 12th birthday

- for some odd reason, he really likes helping neytiri out with grocery shopping? also a guilty pleasure to pick out some of his favorite snacks and being the perfect little son that he is, neytiri always says yes

- brushes his teeth DAY AND NIGHT without a skip

KIRI:

- definitely plays my singing monsters

- had a monster can collection phase (will not admit to it although)

- that being said, had an ‘indie kid’ phase and begged norm for a couple of unused cds so she could paint them

- listens to mitski and lana del ray and flexes it to people and attacks them if they say they don’t know who they are or they don’t like their music

- wants her septum pierced but by neytiri’s words, “i’d rather die.”

- does her own hair, hence why it’s so messily beautiful

- neytiri cuts her hair though, as much as she doesn’t like to admit it

- would really like a tattoo, but neytiri has said no obviously

- tried asking jake for the tattoo, but jake was terrified of neytiri’s expression so he said no

- then tried to do a stick and poke and it failed miserably (rejected from her skin a week later)

- weirdly insecure of her nose, sometimes she likes it, sometimes she doesn’t

- jumps on the trampoline with tuk until she’s passed out from exhaustion

- plant lover. like seriously has a dozen in her room and will panic if she hasn’t gotten the time to water them for a day

LO’AK:

- plays mortal kombat and has an addiction to it. will yell out fatality when putting neteyam in a headlock

- begs neytiri for waves (she always says no, thank god)

- has got led lights in his room that are stuck to the wall with shitty sticky tape. you can easily see it, too

- always facetiming tsiyera but half of the time she doesn’t answer

- the type to lick chip dust off of his fingers until the last speck is demolished

- SATURDAYS ARE FOR THE BOYS

- has a pet fish and secretly adores her, her name’s shelly and will go into deep detail if you ask about her

- favorite food is doritos and takis

- was a ‘all girls are the same’ type before he met tsiyera

- wears his worn ass jordans religiously

TUK:

- has a pink ipad

- makes her own fake youtube tutorials on said ipad. kiri sneakily watches them when she’s sleeping

- can do an impressive amount of tricks on the trampoline and each time she learns a new one she yells out, “DAD!!! DAD, DAD, DAD, COME WATCH THIS!!!! DAD!! DAD!! DAD!!!!”

- her heart broke when jake with a few drinks in his system decided to jump on the trampoline on a party night and ended up tearing a massive hole in the middle of it

- has a CRIPPLING obsession with slime and neytiri absolutely hates it. always searching up ‘how to make slime no borax no glue’ and always makes a mess of wherever she makes it

- SHE LOVES DISNEY and her favorite princess is moana

- begged neytiri to let her dye the ends of her hair purple. neytiri used one of those ten washes dyes in a box and didn’t bleach her hair before because “no way am i putting bleach in my daughter’s hair” when it didn’t work because tuk’s hair is literally pitch black, she cried

- she literally loves the low space buns hairstyle and will forever ask neytiri to do it for her. but will end up crying because of how hard neytiri pulls her hair (it’s not even that hard)

- has a huge collection of squishmallows (jake got her them all)

- doesn’t actually like chocolate but loves candy

- the type to bounce on neytiri and jake’s bed to wake them up

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

My dearest bouncey! I have a prompt for you if you like: Witchers as a 90s/2000s boyband 😂🤷‍♀️💖💖💖

Ellie, darling, this started as 500 words and turned into like 3.2k words and also a piece of art so... thank you so much. also shout out to my amazing art pal @mawbwehownets for the little comic!!

this contains lots of 90′s/early 2000′s nostalgia so there is also that

tw: hornyish, smooching, perilous music video situations (corny)

---

“Do I have to?” Geralt groans, letting his forehead thud down against the linoleum surface of their tour bus’s shitty dining table.

“Yes,” Vesemir says. His tone leaves no room for argument or whining. “But what if I let you pick the winner personally?”

“There have to be like fifteen thousand letters to go through! How will I manage that in less than two days?”

“There were a few more than fifteen thousand applications, Geralt. There were probably closer to five hundred thousand.”

Lambert wolf whistles and Aiden claps.

Geralt grimaces and keeps his face hidden against the table, releasing a slightly muffled: “Fuck.”

“Language,” Vesemir frowns. He tugs gently at Geralt’s loose ponytail and the singer lifts his head up from the table again, looking at his manager with beseeching eyes. “Anyway, we’ve narrowed it down to about fifty. You can go through those and choose whichever person you’d like to play your love interest. But you have to give me an answer by Friday. The shoot is in three weeks and whoever wins this stupid competition will need time to make arrangements.”

“I thought we were footing the bill for their food and their hotel room,” Geralt raised an eyebrow. “What would they need to arrange?”

“Not everyone can board their pets at the flick of a wrist, dude,” Lambert scoffs from his seat on the couch. Aiden lies draped across his lap, as usual, and the two of them are halfheartedly watching The Lion King. They can only watch movies when the bus is stationary, otherwise the VHS player might move too much while running and damage the film inside the cassette. Even taking advantage of such a rare opportunity, Lambert and Aiden still seem more interested in each other than Jonathan Taylor Thomas’s voice acting. 

“Lambert has a point,” Vesemir sighs. He scrubs his hand over his lightly whiskered face like a tired grandparent and sighs again, more heavily. “It’ll be good for you boys to have a normal person around for a few days. Maybe they’ll be able to put some things into perspective.”

Geralt can only roll his eyes a little bit and thank his manager regardless of his own feelings; he and the rest of TW5 owe the seasoned musical expert their entire careers. Without Vesemir’s help and mentorship they would never have made it past their first disastrous record deal. They certainly wouldn’t have reached the heights they’re at now, enjoying international fame and recognition. 

The begrudging frontman accepts a heavy plastic bin of file folders from Vesemir and sets them down next to his bunk. “Are these organized in any particular way?”

“Nope.”

“Cool.”

Geralt digs his hand into the pile and pulls out a piece of pale-pink stationary, eager to get started and, by extension, get finished. He can already tell that it’s going to be a long couple of days.

---

“I want this one, please, Ves.”

“Huh?” Vesemir looks up from his palm-pilot. Geralt is standing in front of him and trying to hand him something. 

“I want this guy to be in the music video with me.” Geralt holds out the letter again, fingers trapping the accompanying polaroid headshot with great care. A pair of bright blue eyes stares up from the photo, highlighting the subject’s bright smile and unruly mop of messy brown hair. Vesemir tries to hide his amusement; totally Geralt’s type, if the big oaf could admit to having one.

“Alright. I’ll get everything in order. We start shooting in two and a half weeks so get your asses to the gym, please.”

“Yes, Ves,” all five young men chorus. 

“Tomorrow,” Coen mutters a moment later than everyone else, not glancing up from his composition notebook. Vesemir nods in understanding. Coen is the best lyricist of the lot and it’s easier to let him work when inspiration strikes than beg him to focus when he can’t get a solitary idea to stick.

“So why’d you pick that one, Ger-bear?” Lambert drawls. Aiden nods and leans against Lambert’s side. Geralt can’t help the mild jealousy that overtakes him every time he sees his bandmates touch each other with such casual affection. He wants that intimacy, that softness behind the veneer of famous indifference. He wants someone to hold. 

“Yeah. What drew your attention to that poor unfortunate soul. Was it the floppy hair, the big blue eyes, or the dopey grin?” Aiden smirks.

“Hmm.”

“Fuck you,” Eskel sighs, looking between the two troublemakers with the tired gaze of an eldest sibling, “Fuck you for even asking in the first place and expecting a straight answer.”

“Straight is the furthest thing from his answer,” Lambert chuckles. He is promptly smacked in the head with one of the couch’s hideous throw pillows. The youngest member of the band rubs the side of his face and chuckles, “Alright, I deserved that one.”

---

“Holy shit!” Jaskier practically screams. “Holy motherfucking shit!”

“What!?” Yennefer comes flying around the corner. “What’s wrong!?”

“Nothing is wrong, Yenna! Everything is awesome! Everything absolutely fucking rocks!”

“Did you get hit on the head by a falling branch between here and the mailbox or what? You were whining about your finals work not five min-”

“Look at this!” Jaskier shoves an open envelope into her hands and cuts her off. Yennefer reads the watermarked documents once. Twice. Her eyes almost pop out of her head when the words and their meanings finally sink in. 

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

“No, I am absolutely not!” her giddy roommate cheers, bouncing up and down in place. “I did it! I won!”

“Holy shit.”

“I know! I get to kiss Geralt deRiv!” he practically cackles. Then freezes. “Holy fuck I get to kiss Geralt deRiv.”

“You said that already,” Yen teases. She shoves the paperwork back into his hands and grabs a takeout menu from the junk drawer near her hip. “Since you won the makeout lottery, you get to buy lunch. Lucky bastard.”

---

“So this will be your dressing room,” someone’s underpaid PA says, ushering Jaskier into a small, bright room. “Priscilla will be here shortly to get you into hair and makeup.”

“Oh, uh- thanks!”

“Yup.”

And with that, the young man disappears back down the hallway toward the sound stage. Jaskier jogs his leg anxiously as he waits for Priscilla to arrive, nervous and otherwise totally alone in the huge grey building. As the minutes tick by and his heart rate rises, Jaskier’s intrusive thoughts make an unwanted appearance: What if they forget about me being here? What if there’s been a mistake and they accidentally hired two love interests and I just sit in here for hours all alone while-

“Hi!” a bright, peppy blonde woman flies through the door and startles him back to reality. “Nice to meet you, I’m Priscilla! You can call me Priss; I’ll be doing your hair and makeup for the video this week!”

“Oh… hi. I’m Julian, but I prefer Jaskier.”

“Lovely! Well, Jaskier, is your hair naturally this color?”

“Y-Yes?”

“Perfect! I don’t want to mess with such a lovely shade of natural brown, but do you mind if I give it a bit of a trim? I have a few ideas for styles right here in my book- How do you feel about some feathering back here? I think-” she fluffs a few of the hairs around the nape of Jaskier’s neck “-I could really bring out the curls if I adjusted the length a bit and used some product.”

“Just, uhm, go for it, then! Feel free to make me as pretty as possible!” Jaskier declares. He’s committing to this experience wholeheartedly, determined to allow himself every opportunity for positive change. He wants to really let himself enjoy it, and he needs a haircut anyway. Priscilla spends an hour washing, cutting, drying, and styling his hair into a lovely fringed sweep across his forehead. It ends just above his brows, giving his face a slightly softer shape than usual. He grins over his shoulder, “I love it! I’m going to miss you when I’m back at Oxenfurt. Good stylists are so hard to find.”

Priss blushes and nudges against his shoulder, “Oh, you little charmer.”

“I mean it,” he says, examining himself in the mirror. “I look like I could really be worthy of a heroic rescue! This is going to be such a fantastic memory, and I appreciate it. Thank you so much.”

Priss bites back a genuine tear and smiles, “Now that your natural prettiness has been mildly enhanced, let’s get you over to wardrobe, shall we?”

“Wardrobe? Do I have, like, a costume? What’s the music video even about?”

“They didn’t tell you any of this when you got here?”

“Not… not really.”

“Well, my darling, I think you’re really going to like it; they’ve got you in Versace for the first scene.”

“Versace!?” 

Then Jaskier is being ushered into a bright, colorful room full to bursting with grim-faced, middle-aged women and he loses track of his only braincell for the rest of the morning.

---

“You must be Julian!” Lambert declares, bounding up to him and grinning. It’s a feral, animalistic grin and Jaskier resists the sudden urge to take a step back.

“I prefer Jaskier, if you don’t mind too much,” Jaskier corrects him quietly. Lambert rolls his eyes in a long-suffering kind of way and throws a meaty arm around the shorter man’s shoulders, completely ignoring the wardrobe technician’s wincing as he wrinkles the expensive silk jacket. 

“No need to be quiet and polite around here, my dude. We’re just a bunch of rowdy idiots, aren’t we, guys?” 

“Hell yeah!” Aiden calls back. Eskel sighs like the put-upon nanny in a Victorian Redanian comedy. 

“Speak for yourself,” Coen barely lifts his frosted tips up from his book long enough to speak. Geralt is-

Holy motherfucking Britney Spears on toast.

Geralt is the hottest thing Jaskier has ever seen in his short, unfulfilled-until-right-now life. Forget Ralph Macchio. Forget Leonardo Dicaprio and Kate Winslet and Winona Ryder. This man is… Geralt deRiv is… he’s the picture of perfection. And he’s right there, standing in front of an elaborate party set with his thick, beautiful arms crossed over his chest and his eyes trained on the floor, as if willing it to swallow him whole. Jaskier realizes that he probably didn’t have any choice in the matter; maybe this was just as awkward and uncomfortable for Geralt as it was for Jaskier. 

“Ger-bear!” Lambert whoops, yanking Jaskier closer to the brooding frontman. If only he were brave enough to struggle for escape; alas. “This is your boy-toy for the week. Goes by Jaskier, apparently.”

“Nice to meet you,” Geralt manages to grunt. “How did you like the script?”

“I haven’t uh- I haven’t actually seen it?”

“Shit. Fuck. One second,” Geralt huffs, disappearing into the crowd of technicians and machinery operators and PAs. Jaskier loves him already, for real. Sure, he was pretty in the music videos and promo material, but the way he said fuck like it was the noblest word he could think of… Geralt interrupts his train of thought by coming back with a sheaf of papers clutched in his hand. He shuffle-shoves them into Jaskier’s arms immediately. “There you go.”

“Thank you!” Jaskier smiles. It’s genuine and shy, more tenuous than his usual goofy grin. He flips through the pages, glancing between the script to his expensive suit, “So I’m guessing we’re at a party for this scene? Or something?”

“This is… where we meet. This is where… you and I uh…”

Jaskier’s eyes scan the page as Geralt’s ability to speak slowly leaves him. 

Lover ENTERS LEFT, dressed to the nines. Lover adjusts their tie/boa and takes a look around the room. S/He looks sad and a little hopeful. PULL BACK to Geralt, who approaches slowly. Their eyes meet. HOLD SHOT. PULL BACK as they move towards each other. Geralt pulls Lover into his arms and they begin to dance.

“Oh, wow.”

“I hope it’s okay! If you’re not comfortable with that kind of thing we can-”

“I’ll be alright, thank you. I came here to put my acting chops to the test. Well, that and meet my favorite band, of course. Thank you again, by the way. It’s been wonderful so far and I really appreciate you allowing me to be here.”

“Allowing? Psh. Geralt ha-” Lambert is cut off by Aiden, who elbows him sharply in the side. “Ow! What the fuck, babe?”

“I knew it!” Jaskier crows, distracted. “I knew you two were an item!”

“They’re not exactly subtle.”

“They never confirm anything either,” Jaskier retorts. Geralt shrugs his acknowledgement and moves back towards the set. Jaskier follows after the taller man like a lost puppy, eyes flicking from one thing to the next, hungry for detail even in his anxiety ridden state. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience and he doesn’t want to waste a solitary second of it. “This is incredible, really just...wow. You guys do this all the time? You get to make tiny little movies for already great songs that you get to perform for millions of adoring fans? And you get paid!?”

Geralt hadn’t ever really thought about it like that. He’d been raised in the industry. He’d signed to Kaer Morhen Records as an early teen because his mother was a member of the Board of Directors and he’d been making music ever since; an outsider’s perspective to things was… new. A little strange. “Yeah, I guess that is pretty much what we do.”

“Wow.”

“It’s not that exciting, I promise.”

“Have you ever written a fifteen page paper about the history of lute-string design and manufacturing?” 

“No.”

“Then kindly shut the fuck up about what I should consider exciting,” Jaskier grins. Geralt is immediately and irrevocably smitten. Fuck. It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes! “So, which door am I entering from?”

“Left,” Geralt points. Jaskier skips over and begins to introduce himself to the sound and lights crew. His smile seems to be as infectious as his cheer and soon the entire set crew is smiling at one another. There’s been a literal shift in the atmosphere; if he didn’t know any better, the TW5 frontman thinks Jaskier might be some kind of magical creature, because he can’t just be human. Geralt is well and truly fucked, and everyone in the band already knows.

---

“What do you think?” Jaskier asks, slipping anxiously from behind the changing screen. The Versace is gone and in its place are a pair of tight, high-waisted blue pleather pants and a billowing white shirt, which has been strategically ripped in several places to reveal slivers of the lightly tanned skin that lies beneath. He looks like he’s in desperate need of rescuing. He looks like every fantasy Geralt has ever had about the perfect guy. He looks like a fucking dream.

“Nice,” he says.

Lambert and Aiden wolf-whistle and cheer as they approach. Aiden claps twice, loudly, and shoots Jaskier a set of finger guns, “Hot damn, baby. You single? You lookin’ to mingle? Because I am bi and spoon like a Pringle.”

“First of all, babe, I love you but that was the most horrific combination of words yet known to man. Second of all, yeah, I’d dump Aiden for you for sure,” Lambert adds. Jaskier is at a total loss for words. His mouth hangs open and his breath comes in uneven little gasps for a moment.

“Uh… I- Thank you?”

“Oh god, Eskel! Eskel, he’s short circuiting, do something.”

“You absolute-” Eskel groans and makes his way over to the gathered group. He tugs Jaskier away and over to the other end of the set, where a comically huge rocket/bomb (Jaskier can’t tell) is standing at the center of a vaguely science-themed room. A laboratory, maybe? Or like, a really weird spacecraft? A hospital run by rocket scientists? It doesn’t matter, it’s the Evil Lair of the Villain and that’s where Jaskier is being held captive. “Here, Cameron and Elise will help you get set up for the next scene. I’m sorry about the boys they’re... gay?”

“I understand,” Jaskier nods sagely and Eskel relaxes. Then for comedy’s sake he adds an equally dramatic, “I too am... gay.”

The set dresser, an electrician, and a few specialists (likely a rope rigger among them) come over and tie Jaskier to the bomb/rocket/villainous mechanism, ending his conversation with Eskel, who is now in a much better mood than he was before. 

Jaskier is told to make sure his hands are crossed behind the small of his back and the director instructs him to wiggle back and forth “as convincingly as possible without actually getting loose or moving the ropes too much”. Which is manageable, he supposes. 

“Then, when the chorus comes up, we’ll get a few shots of the boys dancing in front of you,” the director continues to explain. That’s… kind weird, but okay. I’ve seen weirder. “Then we’ll do the action shots, with Geralt rescuing you. Are you okay to do the kiss, or would you rather not? We have dynamic shots with or without, so it’s totally up to you.”

“I’m fine with that,” Jaskier smiles shyly. “I consent to be smooched.”

“Adorable,” Lambert calls. Jaskier blushes and the director shoots Lambert a glare. 

“He’s already pink enough, don’t make me change my gels you little shithead!”

“Sorry, Pierre!”

“Fucking sorry my ass,” Pierre grumbles beneath his breath. Then he smiles at Jaskier. “Do something nasty to him for me, will you? Not too nasty but… just a little?”

“I’ve got your back,” Jaskier winks. 

“No plotting! Not fair!” Aiden whines.

“You have a team,” Pierre retorts. “Now I have a team.”

“Rules are rules,” Eskel sighs. “Now can we please shoot this damn video?”

“Right,” Pierre claps, getting everyone’s attention. “Places!”

---

Geralt races up the stairs, trying to keep the long sleeves of his black mesh shirt from catching on any of the set pieces. The solid black t-shirt he’s wearing underneath makes his arms and back look bulkier than normal; it’s a visual technique to make him look larger than Jaskier, whose billowing white shirt will hide how wide his shoulders actually are. Fuck, those are some nice shoulders. And the smattering of dark chest hair that peeks from the front of the college student’s shirt? Geralt wants to bury his face in it.

Okay, focus. 

He reaches the top of the set and rushes towards Jaskier, ripping the ropes from around his torso and pulling him close. He cups the back of Jaskier’s head with his upstage hand, framing the slightly smaller man for the camera and making him seem even shorter, another trick of angles and body posturing. Geralt plays Jaskier like an instrument, bending him back by placing his downstage arm around Jaskier’s waist, pressing their mouths together and holding them still for as long as it takes the director to yell, “Cut!” with a satisfied tone of voice. 

Geralt’s suspicions are confirmed when Pierre laughs and claps some more and cries, “Print it, lads! That was a one-take wonder!”

He tries to ignore the way Jaskier’s shoulders slump as if disappointed. “Good job,” he manages to say.

“You, too.” Geralt wishes he could keep a picture of Jaskier smiling in his back pocket forever. No other sight could light up the world so effortlessly. “Thanks for being gentle.”

“I’m trying to sweep you off your feet,” the singer shrugs. Jaskier wiggles his eyebrows and follows Geralt down the narrow set stairs.

“Are you, really?”

“Is it working?” Geralt asks, turning to look up at Jaskier. The student pauses to look at him and his foot catches on an uneven board. He topples forward with a short cry of surprise and seems surprised when Geralt reaches out to catch him. “Jaskier!”

“Oh my god!” Lambert races over, Aiden hot on his heels. “Are you okay, dude?”

“I’m fine,”  Jaskier laughs, a little breathless. “Just a little shocked.”

“You should take him to get a snack or something,” Eskel says, nudging his shoulder against Geralt’s. “He’s been busy all day and hasn’t even been to craft services.”

“You haven’t eaten?” Geralt asks, honestly baffled. Jaskier shakes his head, face heating once again. He wishes he could stop blushing, but Geralt’s presence seems to make it impossible. He wraps one arm around the younger man’s temptingly slender waist and leads him towards the food carts. He shoves a couple of sandwiches and a bottle of punch into Jaskier’s hands, not giving him a chance to argue. “Here, I’ll have something, too.”

“Thanks,” Jaskier smiles, understanding that he is, in turn, being understood. They sit comfortable folding chairs off to the side, food spread across their laps. Jaskier laughs and chats around his mouthfuls, pulling things from Geralt like his favorite color and his least favorite nicknames. Songs he liked and dances he disliked. 

“You made it fun again, today,” the singer smiles. “Thank you for that. I wish you could be here for every video shoot.”

“Looking for another member of the band?” Jaskier jokes, doing some half-hearted jazz hands. Geralt shakes his head and laughs. 

“I wish we were,” he sighs. “But I guess five is the magic number.”

“Makes the dances look cooler,” Jaskier nods. “I agree with whoever made that decision. I wouldn’t dare ruin the aesthetic.”

Geralt laughs again and Vesemir turns to look, honestly shocked at the volume of the sound. 

“Plus, you can’t be the frontman if there’s no front.”

“Shut up,” Geralt chuckles, still grinning broadly. 

Vesemir makes a phone call.

---

2 Weeks Later, Backstage in Kaedwen

---

“He’s been sulking like this ever since Jaskier went back to Oxenfurt,” Lambert whines. “C’mon Vesemir, do something.”

“What do you want me to do, make Geralt’s boyfriend appear out of thin air?”

“Not my boyfriend,” Geralt growls, stomping past his bandmates and manager. He can’t help but feel grumpy. Jaskier had been like the sun, bringing light and wonder to everything he touched, and without that joy around it doesn’t seem worth the extra effort to smile. So he’s been moping. 

“Fucking hell,” Vesemir sighs. “Thank goodness I thought ahead.”

“What do you mean?” Eskel asks, joining the little group in the hallway outside the dressing room. “What did you think of?”

“Three,” Vesemir smiles, glancing at his watch. “Two… One…”

“Boooooys,” echoes a high tenor. “Where’s my welcome wagon, Vesemir?”

“Jaskier!” Aiden practically screams, leaping out of the dressing room and flying down the hall. Lambert follows at a sprint and Vesemir hears the resounding oof oh fuck of both giddy musicians hitting their mark. 

Geralt comes back down the hall at a jog, eyes searching frantically. “I thought I heard-”

“Geralt!”

Vesemir’s heart clenches in his chest at the way Geralt’s face lights up. At the end of the hallway, surrounded by spilled luggage and apologetic boyband members, is Jaskier. Geralt floats to him, it seems, like he’s dreaming the whole thing. Jaskier takes his hands and then releases them and wraps his arms low around Geralt’s hips instead. 

“I missed you the most,” he whispers, just for Geralt to hear. “Couldn’t sleep without listening to your CD. I know it’s silly but I really like you.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt whispers reverently into his shaggy brown hair. “What are you doing here?”

“I was going to do my thesis on pop culture’s relation to music history,” he says. “And then the manager of TW5 called Oxenfurt and offered me the opportunity to do some… first hand research while I worked on finishing the paper.”

“R-Really? You’re going to be here… every day?”

“Do you… do you not want me he-”

Geralt kisses him before he can even finish the question. It’s a stupid question anyway, of course Geralt wants him here. Wants him right here, kissing him silly. The singer presses his lips desperately, crushingly against Jaskier’s; he never wants to part from this man again. He never wants to be without that glorious laughter and contagious liveliness. Who knew that life could be so full of delight and happiness if he only let it? 

He kisses Jaskier for all he’s worth and more, pouring his heart and soul into it. When they pull apart, both gasping for air, Geralt asks, “Stay with me, Jaskier? You don’t have to do anything I just-”

“I’d love to be the big spoon,” Jaskier winks, whispering again. “Thank you, Geralt, for the rescue.”

[bradtomlovesya]

𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐏𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

Sooo, @brad-is-my-dante and i, wrote this together and we hope you like it!!! 🥺💙. I love you so much bestie. We will write one more in her profile so... wait for it :)

Summary: You and Brad are together and you go with him to a party. A guy starts flirting with you and of course Brad doesn't like that so he shows you who you belong to.

Word counter: 4,5k +

Warnings: Possessive, angst, Smut +18, submissive reader, kinky, bad language, orgasm denied. Read by your own responsibility.

Being in a relationship is hard, but being in a relationship with Bradley Simpson it’s ten times harder, and it’s not because of him, it’s because of the pressure of a lot of people watching your life.

But there was one great thing about it all, the intimacy with him was surreal, amazing and totally exhilarating. As innocent as that man's face might look, he was wild.

“What are you thinking about?” He surrounds my waist with his hands behind me.

he was talking about a little party he was going to have after the concert, not that i didn't like parties, but i was afraid of some inconvenient fan

"Maybe…" I turn and look into his eyes "Why do you want me to go? Couldn't we stay at the hotel?"

“You told me you will go with me, love” he sighs. “I don’t want to be there

without you” he begs. “Pretty please?"

"What do I get if I go?" The innocent eye lies and I could see his eyes turn a darker color. It was like I heard him purr

“It’s not what you will get if you go. Is what you will

get if you don’t go” he cocks his head. “I told you to be a good girl, don’t you dare disobey” his raspy voice is my weakness.

"O-okay babe" my voice shakes. That was the effect he had on me. "I will..."

He takes my purse and my coat before opening the car’s door “Let’s go then” he smiles. I bet he knows the power he has on me.

"Promise we won't be long?" In the car, on the way to the pub where the party would take place, I ask him.

“We will just take some drinks with my band mates, thank some producers and that’s all. After we get back home, I will be all yours, I promise” he takes my hand and leaves a soft kiss on it.

"Okay, bear" I give him an understanding smile. I love this man so much.

After he parks the car, we start walking inside. no more than five seconds pass and Tris is already heading to us.

“Hello, Hello” He says, hugs my boyfriend and then looks at me “How are you, Y/n?”

"I'm fine, and you?" then I give him a high five and the taller one smiles

"I'm fine. Come sit with us, we just need you to arrive" he says happily as he starts walking towards a big table with several bottles of drinks on top and Brad's other bandmates are already there with their girlfriends.

It wasn’t as boring as I expected. Lucee and Kirstie are completely angels and they understand what being girlfriend of a celebrity is, so we have that in common.

“Love?” Brad says, looking at me. “My mom is calling, it must be important. Would you mind waiting here while I take the call?.”

"Of course my love, go there. Send a kiss to your mom for me" I speak gently and he plants a little kiss on me. I could see him disappear into the crowd heading towards the exit.

"So y/n, wanna go dancing?" Kirstie asks me excitedly

"We're all going to the dance floor, come on, it's going to be fun" Lucee adds

"I think it's better not. I'll stay here waiting for Brad" I answer them trying not to look rude. I know Brad very well, he would not like to see me dancing without him.

“Okay… but if you change your mind, we will be there” he points at Kirstie who is already on the dance floor and I just nod in response.

After a couple of minutes, a guy I've never seen before takes sit next to me.

“Hey… I’ve never seen you here before. First time?” He gets closer and speaks in my ear so I can hear him without the interruption of the loud music.

"Um, no... I'm not from around here" I say loudly because of the music and step away from him feeling uncomfortable.

"And where would you be from, sweetie?" he asks approaching again. oh no, he used the nickname that Brad uses for me.

“I don’t think you will know where i’m from” I step away, again.

"Don't play hard to get, I've met girls like you before" he lets out a sloppy laugh and I could feel the breath of vodka. Shit, he doesn't know who he just messed with, if Brad had seen this, he would have kicked him already.

“I don’t want to be rude but you’re making me uncomfortable. Can you please just go?” I sigh and turn my head from side to side looking for Brad.

"Oh I'm sorry sweetie" he gives me a crooked smile "can you at least give me your number?...Or maybe a kiss?" He starts to lean in but soon a shrill, dominant voice makes him stop.

"No, she can't." It was Brad. He was standing with his arms crossed and looking deathly at the inconvenient guy. "didn't you hear her say? get out!"

"And who do you think you are, shorty?" the boy sneers at Brad and I can soon see his jaw strain with rage

"I'm her boyfriend!" Brad hits the table hard, startling the boy and me. "And you can be sure, I may not be tall, but I have plenty of strength to break that horrible face of yours" He looks steadily at the boy "I'm her boyfriend because I have character and a lot of potential. With that personality of yours you wouldn't even catch a bitch." I see anger in his eyes "Now get out of here before I break you!"

quickly I could see the boy almost run out of fear. After that I don't think he would ever go near a woman again without knowing if she had a boyfriend or not

"Can't I go out for 10 minutes that already have motherfuckers after what's mine?" He sits down beside me and I can already see his revealed neck vein and his furrowed brows. oh my god he was sexy

"I'm sorry, my love…" I take my hand and intertwine it with his looking at him gently "but it was better for me to have stayed here waiting for you, than to have gone out on the dance floor with the guys and something worse happened"

"In a way, you're right..." he lets out a loud sigh "I hate it when they try to take what's mine, you know?"

“But… are we okay?” I ask shily.

“Okay? No, we aren’t. There’s a lot of sons of bitches trying to get what’s mine. All - The - Fucking - Time” He looks at me with lust in his eyes. “I think i will have to remember you who your owner is” he takes my wrists.

“But-” he doesn’t let me speak.

"No 'but'. You come with me" he gets up and pulls me by the wrist

"W-won't you let the staff know? They might be worried" I ask him as I'm pulled out.

"Then I'll text them. Now I have to take care of you." he says firmly.

“Okay…” I gulp. I know what’s coming. Drinks, night, and jealousy aren’t the best combination for Brad. Or maybe they are… But not for me.

“Don’t worry, honey” He helps me get into the car. “I will give you just what such a bratty like you deserve”

"Y-you'll be kind… won't you?” I ask him apprehensively as I see him get into the driver's side slamming the door making me jump.

"Do you think you deserve kindness?" He laughs darkly "After I heard that bastard call you my favorite nickname, I'll have to punish you"

with these few words I could already feel a small puddle forming in my panties.

“I will behave,” I murmur.

He puts his hand on my tight and strokes it a little while driving “I hope so, darling. It’s your punishment, not mine”.

The rest of the road was really quiet, none of us said something but his fists were holding the steering wheel so hard making it go white. I saw his chest go down and up with his heavy breathing, I could also see his erection marked in his jeans.

It was a frequent consequence of Brad. He got angry about something and always ended up taking it out on sex. Was he nervous? sex. Was he jealous? sex.

"let's go" he said as he opened the car door for me after having parked the car in front of the hotel

We walked calmly through the hotel lobby, but because of the marked erection, I think the few people there already knew why we were going up to the room.

After the elevator doors closed I could feel my back against the cold metal of the elevator and my hands up. Brad kissed me harshly but passionately.

“Brad… there’s cameras on the elevator” I murmur between kisses.

“Do you think i fucking care?” He bites my lower lip.

“You should, you’re a public figure” I stop him.

“You’re annoying me” He rolls his eyes.

“I’m sorry” I bow my head and the doors of the elevator open.

“Shut up and walk”

I don’t say anything, I just do what he wants. I don’t want the punishment to be worse.

Once inside the room, he locks the door and looks at me in a dominant way. "Take off your clothes and get into bed. I'll be right back" I obey him and then he leaves towards the bathroom, where our bags were.

slowly taking off my clothes I could already imagine how hard he would be on me. I can't deny it, I love that part of him that only I know.

He came back after some minutes with handcuffs.

“A-And th-that?” i stutter.

”It’s for you, sweetheart” He walks towards me “On your knees”

I put on my knees on the bed.

“No,” he denies. “On the floor, now”

"Y-yes sir" so hard to do as he orders and get down on my knees on the fluffy floor mat

"Put your wrists on your back" so I do. He puts the handcuffs on my wrists causing a shiver over my body from the icy metal "You can't move until I speak, ok?"

"O-ok sir" he strokes my hair lovingly

"you're going to suck daddy's cock" he lets out a breath and unzips his jeans making his gray Calvin Klein mark his big erection even more "but when I ask you to stop, what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to stop..." I say shyly

"You go what?" he grabs my chin making me look into his lust-bright eyes "Say it! you know what I want to hear"

"I'm going to stop Daddy!" I could already feel tears welling up in my eyes. He was being aggressive, I don't know if I don't like it or like it.

“Now…” he takes a deep breath “Open”

I do what he tells me to. I open my mouth in a big “a” with my eyes closed waiting for his dick to enter in my mouth but it doesn’t so i open my eyes

"I want you with your eyes open, looking at me" he lets out a long breath as he pumps his beautiful cock with an already reddened tip of sensitivity "If you were supposed to keep your eyes closed, I would have blindfolded you"

"I-im s-so sorry daddy" I say pleading through the eyes. At this point, if I did anything he didn't like, I know he would be able to hook up a vibrator to my clit and leave me without an orgasm for hours.

“No ‘Sorrys’. Open your mouth” I do. He takes my face in one hand and spits on my tongue “Swallow” He orders.

Now I'm just his toy. I’m here to please him, not the other way around.

“Good girl” he smiles when i do “now be more good and suck it all”

“Okay” I whisper and introduce his huge cock in my mouth. I try my best to let it in completely but it is too much for my little mouth.

"Do like this my little girl" he moans heavily "picking up daddy's dick so well, isn't it? such a good little girl to me, and just only for me"

looking into his face, I could see his eyes close in pleasure along with his mouth shaped like a perfect "o" and his furrowed brows.

Picking up my hair and pulling it into a ponytail, he started fucking my face like never before. with each thrust i could feel the veins in his cock pulse making me feel wetter and eager for him in me.

"Yeah little girl. Oh fuck, that mouth is just mine," he speaks heavily between moans "and no idiot can kiss or have his cock in her but me. I'm a lucky guy"

“Who do you belong to?” He takes his dick out of my mouth.

I gasp for air and he just grabs my hair harder.

“I asked something, sweetie. Answer”

“You” I answer breathing heavily.

“Me what? Use more words” He pulls my hair hard making me look at the roof.

“You, daddy” i cried out “I belong to you and only you”

This is hard, this is rough and I never thinked about Brad like this but… Is it bad to say I'm loving it?

"That's how I like it. Daddy loves when his little girl is obedient..." he lets out a long sigh "Dad was just really disappointed in one thing..."

Oh shit. What do I say wrong?

"You know baby, when I saw you call it sweet, my blood boiled with rage" he caresses my cheek “Did you see the way he was looking at your legs with that tight dress of yours? You use that dress for me. Only for me”

"S-sorry, daddy" I look at him feeling guilty

"Don't you remember what I said? No 'Sorrys'." he scolds me with the look "that bastard at least wouldn't know how to eat you." he rolls his eyes "get up slowly, your knees must be hurting"

I slowly stand up and feel my legs go weak but Brad holds me by the waist

"I warned you. Now I want to change the positions of the handcuffs, turn around" so I do and feel him release the handcuffs "Lie on the bed on your back"

"Yes daddy" I walk to the bed and lie down doing what he asked me to. Soon I can see him taking off his shirt and fully removing his underwear

"It's rude to stare honey" he chuckles softly as he notices my gaze on his dick "but I know, my dick is amazing and it's yours only"

he climbs on the bed and stays between my legs

"hands on the headboard" he asks and I do. So he holds my hands on the headboard rail.

“You remember our code?” He looks at my eyes and I just nod. “Words, darling. I won’t do anything without your permission”

“Green, keep going. Yellow, slow. Red, Stop” I bite my lip.

“That’s daddy’s girl” he lowers his hand until it ends where i need him the most. “Look at you” he laughs darkly “You’re dripping and i haven’t touched you yet” He slams my ass with his other hand. I know that will leave a pink mark. “Say please” He parts my folds but doesn't touch my clit.

“Please” I murmur.

“Please what?” He slams again. “Say it louder!” he orders.

“Please, daddy. Please fuck me with your fingers! please fuck me with your mouth! ” I close my eyes, feeling the pain. "Show me you're better than that bastard"

"Do you think it's going to be that easy?” He chuckles softly in my ear "Love, I'll make things difficult for you" I let out a whimper of disappointment

I feel his hands travel down my body and stop on my sensitive nipples. He quickly captures my right nipple with his mouth making it hard

"Oh, p-please daddy" I begged him. stop don't stop, never stop.

With one of his hands I feel him pinch the other nipple as he nibbles the other with his teeth. His free hand goes down to my wet pussy and touches me placing and taking his finger from my clit

"Um, little girl" he takes his mouth off my nipple "Tell me something" he licks the valley of my breasts "Who makes you so surrendered?"

"You daddy! You!" I close my eyes in an attempt even though I'm doing something so dirty, beg for god to change Brad's mind.

"Tell me…who makes you so wet?" He runs his index finger into my wet hole "huh? tell me"

"Oh my God! You daddy! You Bradley!" he totally stops with the movements

"what did you say?" I open my eyes and find a totally wild face "What did you just say?! Say it again!"

"You B-Bradley" I already knew that was it, I had never used his full name.

"You can't" He takes his hand out of my pussy. "You can't call me like that" I inhale deeply feeling the emptiness he left in my hole.

"I'm so sorry, daddy" i start crying again "please…"

"No 'please'. Now, i won't let you cum on my fingers 'cause i told you to be a good girl and you didn't"

I could feel my pussy throb for the lack of his touch. I just wanted him anyway, but he was making things difficult

"You know... I could call it a bitch, since that bastard stole my favorite nickname" he presses my cheek with one hand

"N-no, please. You promised you'd never call me bad names, remember daddy?" I beg him

it was a deal we had, no bad names for him and me. As hard as he would be on sex, the way to call me, he would be sweet.

"fuck… You teased me so much, little girl." he takes the grip off my cheeks and starts smoothing "the way you looked at me today as I sang to the crowd… you know how to tease daddy, don't you?"

this time I knew he didn't want an answer. His eyes looked wildly at me, I could see his pupil dilated because of the pleasure and love he felt for me.

"Do you know what naughty girls earn?" he whispers in my ear making me shiver and I shake my head "a good hard fuck… if you're good daddy will let you come. Ok?"

"O-ok daddy, I promise to be good" he nods his head

"What's the code?" he positions himself between my legs as he pumps his cock with his hand

"G-green…" I let out a sigh seeing him position himself at my entrance.

"You still on the pill?" I nod "good girl" when he finishes talking, he enters at once without giving me time to adjust. a loud moan comes out of my throat and I feel a burning

"It doesn't even look like I fucked you this morning. So tight for daddy, huh?" he moans with his eyes closed

"Only for you, daddy. I promise" I gasp, squeezing my eyes. My hands were still in the handcuffs but I needed to touch him "Can I touch you… please?"

"Do you think you deserve to touch me? huh?” He pinches hard one of my nipples making me scream "I'll only let you go when I think it's necessary, weigh it again and you won't enjoy it. did you hear me?"

"Y-yes daddy" throwing my head back in pleasure I could feel him change the angle

now my legs were over his shoulders causing him to reach deeper into my core, suddenly hitting my G-spot

"Daddy! Oh my God!" I moaned desperately as I felt my orgasm start to get closer with every thrust he did.

"Are you going to cum?" He says between moans.

I nod no trusting in my own words.

"I don't think so" he starts moving slower. I feel the burning in my stomach disappear and a sigh of frustration leaves my lips.

"Keep calm, baby girl" he kisses my forehead. "Just keep being good and you will get your reward" He enters deeper in me with just one thrust. his fingers dig into my waist with force making me scream at the top of my lungs.

"Who is making you feel this good?" He kisses my neck.

"You, sir" I moaned, feeling him hit that spot again.

"Don't talk with those son of bitches when you have everything with me" he speaks heavily yet deposits a big smack on my ass making me scream "Did you hear me? I want an answer!"

"Yes daddy! I b-belong to you! only to you!" soon I could see a smile break out on Brad's pleasurable face.

"Perfect." it hits that point of mine again going faster this time "Can you let daddy come first?"

"Daddy, I can't h'hold back a-anymore" he clicks his tongue

"You're being selfish little girl" he sighs "you know I can easily leave you without coming, don't you?"

"I'm s-so sorry, daddy" I whimper from the pleasure. Jesus he can't stop it

"I'll release you, don't touch where I don't allow" I nod with a smile and he leans over and lets go of my hands "give me your hand, you know what to do with it don't you?" I nod "fine, no squeezing just stroke"

he brings my hand up to his balls making me caress them. with this act he gains speed inside me hitting my core hard and moaning in an animalistic way

"You know very well how to treat daddy." he groans through clenched teeth "Moan for me love. I want to listen to my baby while I fuck you hard"

"Daddy! D-don't stop…" His movements become sloppy and soon i feel jets of hot semen in my core.

"Bloody hell!" he grumbles before collapsing on top of me and I bring my hands up to his hair and stroke it. "Such a good girl for daddy... made me come so hard, i think someone deserves a reward" he kisses me with love

"P-please, daddy" I beg softly.

"What do you want me to do, sweetheart?" He leaves kisses all over my face.

"Fuck me with your fingers… pretty please?" I say in a submissive tone. I know he wants to keep control even when he is already finished.

"Oh my love do you want me to fuck you with my sperm?..." he takes a hand to my core and incites two fingers "Like this?..."

"Oh! Yeah daddy!" he bends his fingers at me hitting my spot again "P-please, D-don't stop…"

He gives small kisses down my neck following my collarbone and stopping at my breasts. With his free hand he starts massaging my left breast "You are so perfect, it was made exactly to my size. They fit in my hand"

"Oh, Fuck!" I scream feeling the burn in my stomach.

"Cum for me, babe. Cum on my fingers" He speeds up his pace.

I'm sweating and moaning like never before. I'm tired but I don't want him to stop.

He puts his thumb on my clit while keeps fucking me hard with his other fingers and that friction was last thing i needed to realease in his hand screaming his name.

"Oh my God! Thank you daddy! Thank you!" I breathed heavily while shivering and Brad gave me little kisses on my neck

"You're very welcome, babe" He caresses my hair. "Now let's take a shower to clean you up"

"I don't feel my legs" i laugh a little "you left me without the possibility of walking"

"Sorry, honey. But you search for it" he takes me in his arms and walks with me to the bathroom. Once we are in, he lets me sit down on the bathtub.

"I'm going to turn on the hot water love, it'll help ease the pain between your legs" he said turning on the tap and coming to give me a kiss "I'll get the robes, I'll be right back" he goes out the bathroom door and I take the opportunity to admire that one beautiful round ass.

feeling the water rise higher and higher, I relax and close my eyes. I can feel my core on fire. As much as I was punished, I loved how affectionate Brad became afterward.

"Hey love, you're not sleeping in the bathtub are you?" I hear Brad's laughing voice and open my eyes to see him put the robes over the sink

"No. I'm just relaxing" he walks towards me totally naked. This man is perfect in every way

"Space me" he asks and I lean forward feeling him fit behind me "Hmm but I think I tired my girl, didn't I?"

"You did" I let out a small laugh and he follows me

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" He kisses my neck "I couldn't bear to be too rough with you, the pain I give you is always to give you pleasure"

"Be calm Brad" I link one of my hands in his "I'm just feeling a burning sensation, nothing too different from other times"

"Are you sure?" He whispers fondly in my ear and then nuzzles my neck.

"Yes babe I'm sure" I rested my head on his chest closing my eyes and soon I felt him take a sponge and rub my breasts and stomach.

"Time to take care of my baby" he kisses my head "I love you so much y/n"

"I love you too, Bradley bear" my breath calms down enjoying the feeling. "Can I ask you something?" I look at his chocolate eyes for a moment.

"Whatever you want to" He answers with a cute smile.

"Why did you get that jealous of that guy?" I giggle.

"Being honest… you're one of the best things in my life right now and just the think of losing you for just one dumb guy drives me insane" he says in a lost and sad voice.

"You won't lose me..." I kiss him gently "I've been waiting for you for so long, it will always be you, and for you"

"But I'm still afraid of losing you... I waited so long for love and you showed up" he sighs and I can see tears in his eyes and i caress his cheek "you are the most precious thing in this world" a lonely tear leaks from his eye and I wipe it away with my thumb.

"You are also the most precious thing in the world Brad. I love you so much" I plant a little kiss on him "well I think we should go to bed, I'm really tired"

"true my love, can you get up?"

"Yeah babe" I get up out of the tub and grab one of the robes "Will you stay there?"

"No" he gets up from the tub and repeats my movements and I look at him mischievously

"I doubt you can reach me... softly" when I finish talking I run towards the room leaving him behind

"y/n! come back here!" I hear him scream before he comes after me

Who knew dating Bradley Simpson would be so exciting…

[criminalmindzjunkie]

I Carry Your Heart With Me (Part One)

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Summary: Spencer and the reader are reunited for the first time in fifteen years. 

A/N: Very excited to get the ball rolling on this one. I hope you all enjoy it! Message me if you would like to be added to the taglist.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 4.5k

“I cannot believe you talked me into this,” Damien mutters from the passenger seat, his icy blue eyes wide with fright. He pulls his gaze away just long enough to point at a lone cow grazing to the left of the road. “Look! That cow is just like… standing there. No fence around him or anything. What’s stopping him from stampeding into us the second we get out of this car?”

Damien sounds so genuinely horrified that you almost feel bad for laughing. Almost.

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, Dee. Besides, that cow didn’t even look up when we drove past. We’re not even on its radar.”

“Oh, yeah? Ever heard of a little thing called mad cow disease?” Damien persists, in typical dramatic flair. You roll your eyes at him and he curses underneath his breath. “You know, when I agreed to go with you to this wedding, I pictured something more akin to a five-star resort with a minibar and a heated pool. Not rogue livestock and shitty cellphone reception.”

“You didn’t agree to anything – you practically begged me to take you with me.”

Damien waves his hand, dismissive, his eyes still roaming over the pasture. “Because I wanted an excuse to take a week off work. This is not the controlled environment I expected.”  

“If you don’t quit complaining, I won’t hesitate to push you out of the car and leave you here with the cow,” you retort. In your periphery you’re able to make out Damien raising his middle finger to you. Rude.

You chuckle and fix your attention back on the dirt road. You’re driving almost painfully slowly, because the very idea of having to pay extra for damages to this already astronomically expensive rental car makes you feel nauseated. Despite your efforts, the car is covered entirely in dust. Its once pristine, white paint job has transformed into a muddy color.

There goes my deposit.

You shake your head at the thought. You had more pressing matters to concern yourself with; i.e., the fact that you were approximately five minutes away from coming face to face with the one person you swore you’d never speak to again. Two months seemed like ample time to prepare yourself in theory, but now that it is no longer some far-off thing, you know that your attempts at preparing yourself were in vain. With each day you crossed off the calendar leading to your departure date, your anxiety grew and grew until you worried your poor heart would give out under the stress. Getting onto the plane bound for Montana felt like the proverbial nail in the coffin, and a hefty dose of Dramamine was the only thing that kept you from spiraling as the plane ascended into the air. You slept through the entirety of the trip and, much to Damien’s chagrin, there is a sizeable puddle of drool on his left shoulder to prove it.

The lengthy nap helped. The tight band constricting your chest had loosened, and you pulled out onto the highway feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. You had Damien by your side and five vacation days to enjoy. Your best friend was getting married to the love of her life, and you were hellbent on standing by her side through it all. Spencer Reid can kiss your ass, as far as you are concerned. No way is he going to ruin this for you.

You are still very much clinging your take-no-shit mentality when you breach a hill and the ranch comes into view, effectively expelling every single positive thought from your head. Aforementioned anxiety reappears in full-force and you stomp down on the breaks.

“Fuck, I don’t think I can do this,” you squeak out, casting a look at Damien, whose eyes are trained on the sprawling expanse of the house ahead of you. “We can still turn around – no, we should turn around. There is no version of this that won’t end in me getting embarrassingly drunk and crying in front of everyone. I’m turning around.”

Damien’s hand on yours, strong and steady, is the only thing that keeps you from whipping the car around and retreating with your tail between your legs. His fingers pry your white knuckled grip off of the wheel slowly, his thumb rubbing reassuring circles across your skin. Its sweet and so overwhelmingly gentle that you’re a bit stunned. You glance at him in a silent question, as if to ask who are you, and what have you done with my friend?

He gets the message loud and clear, because of course he does. Damien fixes you with a smile, grip tightening on your hand.

“I’ve seen you hold your own against some of the biggest names in journalism on an almost daily basis – looking damn sexy while you do it, might I add,” Damien chuckles, and you can’t help but give a weak laugh of your own. Damien’s smile grows at this, and he continues, “If you can handle your business against those conniving pricks, I’ve no doubt that you can tough it out for this. You’re not the type of woman that lets some guy dictate what she does or doesn’t do. And you sure as hell aren’t the type of woman that would let some guy rob her of the opportunity to stand by her best friend on the most important day of her life. As the person who probably knows you better than anyone else on the planet, my opinion of you is pretty rock-solid, if I do say so myself. So, unless I’ve completely overestimated the extent of your badassery, I suggest you rethink that plan. What do you say?”

You avert your eyes and swallow against the lump in your throat.

“Spencer’s not just some guy. For a long time, I was convinced that he was the guy,” you whisper. The car is silent, save for the quiet crooning voice of George Michael flowing through the speakers. Damien squeezes your hand, prompting you to continue. You blink up at him with wet lashes, lips pulled into a sad smile. “Have you ever been in love?”

Damien shakes his head and rubs his thumb along the top of your hand. “I can’t say that I have, babe. Haven’t been that lucky.”

You let out a shaky breath and bring your other hand up to wipe at your eyes.

“Maybe you’re better off. I’ve only been in love once,” you gesture to your pitiful appearance and choke out a wet laugh. “Look where that got me. He fucking crushed me, and fifteen years later I’m still broken up about it. It’s pathetic.”

Damien frowns and shifts in his seat so that he’s fully facing you.

“I don’t want to hear you say that self-deprecating shit again. You were hurt by someone you gave your heart to, and I can only imagine how devastating that must feel. Being upset about seeing him again does not make you pathetic. The fact that you’re here, about to spend a week with the guy just so you can be there for Cassidy, is pretty damn admirable as far as I’m concerned.” Damien ends his monologue by pulling you into a tight hug, and you couldn’t be more thankful that he’d come with you. Not only was he a secret sweetheart, he also gave the very best hugs.

By the time he releases you, the tension in your chest has eased significantly. You nod once, and Damien’s rewards you with a smile.

“I am pretty cool, aren’t I?”

Damien snorts rather unattractively and rolls his eyes.

“I take back everything. You suck, and I don’t know why I bother with you, you narcissist.”

Now that the mood has lifted significantly, you reluctantly press your foot against the gas pedal.

“Too late. No takesies backsies,” you singsong. “You think I’m sexy and badass, and I’m never going to let you forget it.”

Damien mutters something undoubtably snarky underneath his breath, but it’s drowned out by the sound of gravel crunching underneath the tires. That, and the sound of your blood roaring in your ears as you inch further down the driveway.

The house, a beautiful log cabin with stone accents along the underside, is massive. Standing at two stories tall with a large wraparound porch and more than a dozen large windows, it’s a far cry from the modest little cabin in the mountains that Cassidy had made it out to be. Even Damien is slack jawed at the sight of it, sitting pretty against a back drop of rolling mountains, and you can’t help but feel a little smug.

“Still want to complain about that five-star resort?”

Damien shakes his head dazedly, “I retract my earlier complaint.”

All too soon, you roll to a stop and put the car in park. Several other cars are parked haphazardly in the grass around you, and that annoying voice inside your head wonders which one belongs to Spencer. It’s not that you care – you totally don’t – it’s just that you are kind of hoping that he hasn’t arrived yet. A few hours to acclimate to the environment before having to deal with him would be nice.

“You’ve got this, babe,” Damien murmurs. “And I’ll be with you the whole time, just in case you need a reminder.”

You flash Damien a nervous smile.

“You’re a really good friend, Dee. I’m really glad that you’re here,” you say, before narrowing your eyes at him. “If you tell anyone I said that, I’ll deny it.”

Damien snorts and pushes open the door.

“Get your sassy ass out of the car. I’m ready to mingle.”

As soon as you set foot on the porch, the front door flies open and a flash of curly red hair precedes a collision that nearly sends you flying back into the railing. Ecstatic squeals rip through the otherwise serene evening air and two boney arms envelop you into a tight hug.

“I cannot believe you’re actually here,” Cassidy laughs as she squeezes you tight. Her enthusiasm has you joining in, the two of you laughing happily and pulling back to examine one another. Cassidy places a sloppy kiss to both of your cheeks before throwing an arm over your shoulder. “I fully expected you to just blow off the whole thing, if I’m being honest.”

You cast at Damien, who’s watching on with an amused grin on his face.

“Believe me, she tried.”

Cassidy turns her attention to Damien and extends her free hand.

“I take it you’re the infamous Damien that I’ve been trading emails with?”

Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, “Wait, what? The two of you have been emailing?”

Damien accepts Cassidy’s hand and gives it a firm shake, all while smiling smugly.

“Yep. Me and Ms. Cassidy go way back.”

“I mean, that’s cool, I guess, but why?”

Cassidy and Damien share a look, both of them shrugging.

“Mainly to talk about you,” Cassidy admits, not even bothering to look apologetic. When you frown up at her she waves her hand dismissively at you. “All good things, I promise. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” Cassidy punctuates her words with a patronizing pat on your shoulder.

“I knew letting you two meet was a bad idea,” you grumble.

Cassidy simply drops her arms from its place on your shoulder in favor of tugging on your hand.

“Come on, sour puss. I want you to meet my husband. He’s a real sweetie – you’re gonna love him.”

A flash of white-hot panic shoots down your spine and you dig your heels into the floor.

“Wait,” you squeak out, eyes wide. “Is… Is he here yet?”

Cassidy’s eyes shine mischievously, briefly flitting up to Damien before returning to you.

“He is. And you’ll be happy to know that pictures do not do the Good Doctor any justice.”

Salt, meet wound.

“Don’t know why you’re telling me that,” you mutter.

“Denial is not just a river in Egypt, my friend,” Cassidy singsongs as she begins tugging you forward. For someone so tiny, she makes easy work of forcing you through the threshold.

The foyer is just as impressive as you expect it to be – beautiful cedar walls and a grand staircase that leads to the second floor. If you weren’t horribly on edge at the current moment, you would definitely comment on the fact that the foyer alone is probably larger than your entire apartment, but you’re too busy scanning the immediate area for tall skinny white guys with stupidly curly brown hair to comment on the grandiosity.

Cassidy leads the two of you to double doors to the right, and just as she’s about to push them open, the shrill ring of your cellphone offers you an out.

You slip your hand from Cassidy’s grip and give her a faux apologetic look.

“I should probably take this – it might be work.”

Damien narrows his eyes at you. “I thought you left your work phone at home.”

You ignore him and begin taking a few steps backwards, “Is there somewhere private I can go?”

An indiscernible look flashes across Cassidy’s face and then her lips pull up into a sugary sweet smile. “Follow the hallway to the very end. Leads to the back porch,” she says. “No need to rush. Take all the time you need!”

Okay, weird, you think to yourself, but the idea of putting off the inevitable for a few extra moments is too tempting to pass up, so you continue your retreat. You make it to the back door in record time and let out a relieved breath as you bring the phone to your ear.

“Hi, mom.”

“Hi, baby. I was just calling to make sure the two of you got there safely.”

You push open the back door and the breathtaking view of the ranch prompts you to take pause; sprawling fields and rolling hills as far as the eye can see, grazing livestock congregating near a lazy stream at the far end of the property, and several horses running across the expanse of the left field. It was wonderfully serene and vastly different from the bustling rat-race that was New York.

You smile to yourself when a loud moo rips through the otherwise quiet ranch. I could get used to this.

“Yeah, we made it,” you murmur into the receiver. “You would love this place, Mom. It’s probably the prettiest place I’ve ever been. I’ll send you a picture when I hang up.”

“How’s Cassidy? Still a little spit-fire, I assume?”

You lean against the railing and let out a snort, “Oh, absolutely. Don’t think that’ll ever change.”

“I’d hope not,” your mother hums. “How does Damien like the ranch?”

“He’s not exactly a fan of the livestock,” you chuckle. “Damien’s never even seen a real cow before. City boy through and through, that one.”

You and your mother share a laugh that dissolves into a comfortable silence. Comfortable, until the telltale clearing of your mother’s throat warns you of the impending inquisition.

“So,” your mother begins. “Are you going to tell me how it went, or are you going to leave an old woman wondering? “

You sigh and run a hand through your hair. “Fortunately, I have yet to run into him. I may or may not be hiding out on the back porch as we speak in an attempt to avoid just that.”

“Y/N,” your mother chastises. “Prolonging the inevitable isn’t going to make this any easier.”

“I know, I know. I’ll go in there soon. It’s just a lot, you know? I needed to take a breather, first.” Just until my hands stop shaking. Or until Cassidy comes hunting for me. Whichever comes first.

“I know, baby,” your mother coos. “I’m proud of you for trying. Just don’t drag things out, okay? You’ll only make yourself sick with nerves.” Unfortunately, that ship has sailed. The rolling in your stomach can attest to that.

           You laugh a humorless laugh, “I don’t know, Mom. You always like to remind me how stubborn I am. I’m sure if I put my mind to it, I can just avoid him for the entire week.”

           A tiny movement at the very corner of your vision and a loud creak makes you whip your head around, and what you see has your heart falling to your ass.

Spencer Reid, looking absolutely stunning in a pair of khaki dress pants and a white cable-knit sweater, sits in a porch swing with wide eyes and a book clutched tightly in his hands. Soft, caramel-colored curls frame his face and a five o’clock shadow runs the length of his jaw, adding a bit of grown-up flare to his otherwise boyish features.

He looks every bit as beautiful as he did on the day he broke your heart.

--

Spencer knows that he should have spoken up as soon as you walked onto the porch. It was immediately obvious that you hadn’t seen him, and he swears he’s one second away from clearing his throat and launching into the introduction he’d been planning for the last sixty days. But the words die on his tongue as he drinks in the sight of you.

You’re so close to him for the first time in years and it’s more than a little bit dizzying. And yeah, he’s used his very limited knowledge of how the internet works to Google you on more than one occasion, but the version of you leaning against the porch railing is a far cry from the pixelized one. A light breeze rolling through the air lifts your hair away from your face, and Spencer’s breath catches in his throat as he surveys every perfect inch, from the curl of your lashes to the smattering of freckles on your nose. He indulges himself, eyes settling on your cherry red lips, fascinated by the way they move as you talk on the phone. Spencer is intimately familiar with those lips – can recall the way they felt pressed against his own. The years spent apart have done nothing to dull the memories. He’s not entirely sure if that’s a good or a bad thing.

It amazes him how you’ve somehow managed to change a lot, but also not at all. You stand before him as an oxymoron personified, and it’s a lot for Spencer’s poor heart to take in. Your hair is a bit lighter than he remembers, as well as a little longer, but it still looks just as soft and he can recall with startling clarity how it felt when he used to run his fingers through it. You have a few more laugh lines than you did, as well as a scar on your left elbow that hadn’t been there before, but everything else about you is so painfully familiar that Spencer could almost pretend that no time had passed – that he still knows your body as well as he once did.

Spencer knows this isn’t true. Every seven years, the body resets; old cells destroyed and replaced with new ones. You’ve both spent enough time apart that your bodies have reset twice over. You’re as much of a stranger to him as he is to you.

Spencer positively abhors the thought.

The sound of your laughter pulls him from the depths of his mind, and while the laugh isn’t warm or inviting in the slightest, he relishes it. What was once one of his favorite sounds has existed in his head as only a memory for far too long. Hearing it in person is jarring in the best of ways.  

The euphoria he feels dies a horrible death when you speak again.

“I don’t know, Mom. You always like to remind me how stubborn I am. I’m sure if I put my mind to it, I can just avoid him for the entire week.”

Fucking ouch.

Spencer cringes hard, too hard, because the porch swing screeches out an angry creak and you whip around and holy shit, have your eyes always been that entrancing?

He watches as your entire body goes rigid, tensed as if you’re about to bolt. You blink hard, eyebrows drawn together to form an adorably bewildered expression as you assess him. Spencer hopes he doesn’t look too disheveled. He hadn’t even thought to freshen up after his trip, an oversight that he’s regretting terribly as your eyes flit over him.

Spencer isn’t sure why, but he stands up. Maybe it has something to do with feeling vulnerable. Maybe he just wants to close the distance. The two steps he takes towards you support the latter. He’s thankful that you don’t move away, but the blank expression on your face worries him.

The two of you stand five feet apart, but you feel worlds away. Spencer refrains from speaking for as long as he can stand, which is only about thirty seconds.

“Hi.”

Your lips part, and Spencer holds his breath.

“Hi.”

More silence. Spencer gulps.

“It’s good to see you,” he says, cautious. The last thing he wants to do is fuck up within the first five minutes. Unfortunately, his brain and his mouth seem to have some sort of disconnect, and Spencer continues against his better judgment. “It’s been a while.”

It’s been a while? That’s seriously the best I can come up with?

Spencer contemplates drowning himself in the nearby stream.

“It certainly has.”

“Five-thousand, five-hundred and seventeen days.” And roughly thirty-six and a half hours, but who’s counting?

Muted noises flow out of your phone speaker and you pull your eyes away from Spencer. He’s both relieved and devastated.

“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine. I just ran into someone. I’ll call you back later, okay?”

Spencer agonizes over the fact that he’s been reduced to someone while you and your mother exchange goodbyes. You’re smiling when you look up at him again, but Spencer’s seen what a genuine smile of yours looks like, and this isn’t it.

“I didn’t see you sitting there. My apologies.” Your formality makes the situation all the more excruciating.

Spencer lets out a nervous laugh, “I suppose avoiding me is out of the question now, huh?”

It’s hard to tell who’s more horrified by the words that tumble from his mouth, you or Spencer. A fierce flush spreads across your cheeks. It’s the first crack in your otherwise calm and collected exterior thus far and Spencer relishes in it. Maybe you’re not as unaffected by him as you seem.

“I… I’m sorry you had to hear that,” you stammer, blinking up at him with guilty eyes. “That wasn’t very kind of me.”

“Don’t worry about it. I can’t say that I’m undeserving of your anger,” Spencer whispers so quietly that he worries you don’t hear him over the gentle flow of the stream. The hardness that returns to your eyes lets him know that you heard every word.

You clear your throat, signaling your unwillingness to discuss that particularly painful topic. “You’re still partial to Cummings, I see.” You gesture to the book clutched tightly against his chest.

Now, it’s Spencer’s turn to blush. The book in his hands, tattered and worn from years of use, is incriminating. The two of you both know what lies just beneath the binding. The fact that Spencer has it with him now makes him think that he might as well be wearing a t-shirt that reads, I’M STILL NOT OVER YOU.

Spencer raises a hand to scratch at the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah. Old habits die hard, I guess.” His eyes scour your face for a sign of anything that might clue him in to you feeling the same way. A flicker of something dances across your face, but it’s gone so quickly that he can’t be sure if he imagined it. He forces a nervous smile. “If I remember correctly, he was your favorite.” It’s a shitty attempt at a joke.

You exhale a shaky breath and to his absolute horror, your lower lip begins to wobble. He wishes he could reach up and pluck his words from where they hang heavy in the air.

“Not anymore,” you murmur, and fuck if that doesn’t absolutely wreck him.

Spencer shouldn’t ask, but he can’t help himself. “Oh. Why not?”

He holds his breath, anxiously anticipating your next words. You seem to be battling with yourself, mouth opening and closing several times. Spencer is content to wait as long as it takes for you to answer, but the universe is much more impatient than he.

The door leading onto the porch swings open and out walks an honest to God Abercrombie and Fitch model. Or at least, a man who meets the qualifications and then some. Long, flowing blonde hair and a crisp white dress shirt makes Spencer’s unruly brown mop and dumpy sweater look pitiful in comparison. Spencer frowns.

“Sweetheart, you’ve been out here for like ten minutes,” the man chastises as he closes the distance between you and him. Spencer watches him wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you to him like someone might watch a car wreck happen; with equal parts horror and morbid curiosity. “You can’t hide out forever.”

All traces of rigidity leave your body and you melt into the man’s side. It happens in such a way that screams familiarity, as if the pet name hadn’t already driven that point home. The awful, gut-wrenching realization slams home and Spencer has to fight to keep his knees from buckling.

“Uh, sorry,” you mumble, before nodding your head in Spencer’s direction. “Damien, this is Spencer Reid.”

The man’s – Damien’s - eyes go almost comically wide as they settle on Spencer’s dejected frame, before schooling into a cool indifference. He offers him a polite smile that’s a little tight around the edges, but doesn’t outstretch his hand.

“Ah, Spencer. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Spencer swallows hard to keep himself from barking out a crazed laugh. He’s heard of me! That’s certainly something, considering the fact that no one thought it necessary to tell Spencer that you have a –

Spencer’s eyes dart down to your left hand. Thankfully, mercifully, your ring finger is bare.

“Uh, y-yeah. It’s nice to meet you.” The words burn as they roll off his tongue.

Damien nods at him before turning back to you. There’s an unmistakable fondness in the way he looks at you as he speaks. “Cassidy wants everyone back inside. They’re about to serve dinner.”

You smile up at him, not even casting a parting glance at Spencer before Damien leads you back inside. Spencer stands there long after the door closes behind the two of you.

The book feels heavy in his hands.

-

-

-

-

taglist:  @is-this-even-important @evelyncade @usuck​ @m0rce1ddd​ @bauhousewife​ @whxt-to-write​ @spencerwaltergubler​ @lovesicksofi​ @idgafayiowf​ @shadyladyperfection​ @mercy-burning​ @sapphic-prentiss​ @itsmytimetoodream​  @m0rce1ddd​ @bauhousewife​ @whxt-to-write​ @spencerwaltergubler​  @enchantedcruelsummer​ @no-honey-no​ @inkstainedwritergirl​ @tnoh13​ @xxconfettiitsaparade​ @calm-and-doctor​ @muffin-cup​ @fortheloveofcriminalminds​ @arcticrory​ @holl2712​@themanwiththreephds @blameitonthenight21​ @stellabelle​ @me-a-hopeless-romantic​ @musicxlover97 @anightflower​ @andiebeaword​ @annesauriol​ @haylaansmi​ 

[thermaflute]

May you write a hc for Baku and/or todo with a black girlfriend

Thank you for your patience! Imma start rolling them out. Also included Sero on this one because the ask was similar!

Katsuki Bakugo

💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣

Your angry little sunflower. 

You initially curved his ass so hard because he came at you sideways. 

He had that “you definitely want me” attitude and you told his ass to kick rocks. 

He was kind of used to people throwing themselves at him so being told to essentially fuck off sent him reeling.

He felt awful man, he really did like you but he didn't know how to say it without, well, being himself about it.

He approached you the next day and apologized. It was an odd one but you could tell that it was hard for him to even say it so it must have been sincere. You gave him a chance.

Months later, you’re living your best life with Katsuki.

His favorite activity was showing you off. He even went as far as to get you on a hero magazine cover with him. 

There was quite a bit of controversy. People had some opinions about you, and he quickly assured you he has no regrets about loving you.

It’s not like he ain’t seen a black woman before but like you….you were something else. 

He was quick to defend you online, and quickly let anyone who had anything even vaguely negative to say about you know that they weren’t worth the dirt you walk on. 

He takes care of you man, and speaking of getting taken care of...

He’s definitely the type to spoil you, he wants to see you happy. Expect all kinds of luxury.

You basically accidentally become an Instagram model just because he flexes you too much (as if there’s such a thing).

He’s also the kind of guy to love matching clothes with you. Whether it’s the whole fit or just the colors, he’s the king of matching. 

He’s just a sucker for you man, he got himself a baddie and he’s so happy about it 🥺

Shoto Todoroki

🔥❄🔥❄🔥❄🔥❄🔥❄🔥❄🔥❄🔥❄

Imma be honest, he’s probably gonna come off weird at first.

Well intentioned, just has no game to save his life.

Bakugo heard him describe you as a “beautiful chocolate queen” and he volunteered his services ASAP. 

“You are gonna get PUNCHED saying that.”

“But she is :(“

Shoto swiped up on your story and said you looked “entrancing”.

Ain’t a soul has ever called you that and you FREAKED.

Bakugo was about to slap him over the head for that but you responded.

“Yeah you look good too Todoroki lmaooo”

“Good enough to date?”

“I meannnn, where are you trying to go?”

“Somewhere worth your time.”

Bakugo was proud of his handy work, the entrancing was still whack but he figured you were weird enough to let it slide. 

You were very quickly his girl. 

He was eager to learn all about you, but it sometimes came off a bit too forward. Lucky for him though, you never mind. 

“Y/n?”

“Yeah Shou?”

"Someone told me you had black girl magic? I didn’t know you possessed magical capabilities. I’m not scared or anything, I would just like to see it myself.”

You were stuck between laughing and curling him up and awwwing from just how oblivious and precious he is.

You plant a small kiss on his forehead and watch him get flustered, “that’s the magic Shou, do you not like it?”

“I do I do, I just thought there’d be more-” he waves his hands around trying to find a way to explain himself.

You lean in for a longer kiss on his lips and feel him relax underneath you. 

“Was that more magical.”

“Maybe….:

You laugh and actually fully explain what it is to him, he finds it absolutely endearing and uses it to describe everything you do. 

He’s a quick learner overall and he quickly gets all the little differences and embraces them fully. 

You never have to worry about your relationship with him man, you’re always worth the effort. 

Give this man the patience and love he deserves and you’ll receive it back tenfold.

Hanta Sero 

🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊

Dude is a goofball.

He got uncle energy and you hate it but love it all at the same time.

He saw Denki talking to you while out on a run one day and you all shared a hilarious conversation. 

The second you said your goodbye and continued your jog he was begging to find out your info. 

He was whipped by you, you had your hair up in a poof and the sun was hitting your gloss just right. If he didn't know any better he would say you were an angel.

He found your Insta and was LIVING. You’re pretty, humble, and funny as hell. He HAS to talk to you.

Unlike the other two he had game from the get go, he immediately approached you the next day and asked you out.

Of course you said yes!

He is such a giver and so very patient and loving of things that usually confuse others.

He’s always there when you feel down, even if you don’t want to talk he’ll just hold you and tell you small jokes just to get you to smile. 

He’s also the kind of boyfriend to just bother you and then go back to minding his business. Randomly poking you and eating your food just to see you get on him about it.

He thinks it’s cute, okay. 

"What do you want!"

He quits poking you, grabs your popcorn, and just leaves the couch. "Nothing."

"My popcorn 🥺". 

He will wait all day with you while you’re getting your hair done at your friends house, he even brings you and her some food back since it’s been awhile. 

She’s taking photos for your page and he’s just complimenting you, telling you how good you look and how he wants some photos of you too. 

Cue your ass looking awkward on a dining room chair with your hair just done. He doesn’t mind, he’s just glad his baby is happy. He sends the photos to everyone and Mina scolds him on not waiting until you were at least ready for the pic.

Speaking of hair, he got some texture himself so yall both sleep in bonnets. 

He be losing his own so sometimes you get back to your apartment late and just see him curled up on the bed with your bonnet on. 

You just about take it off his head because he couldn’t even steal one of your durags he had to take the bonnet with the really nice elastic band. 

He’s lucky you love him. 

🤡🧡🤡

[storiesforallfandoms]

be like daddy ~ nikki sixx;the dirt

word count: 1239

request?: yes!

“Can you do a Nikki Sixx x wife reader one-shot where it’s 1995 and they have a 3 year old daughter and they take her trick or treating for the first time and they visit Tommy, Mick, and Vince’s houses along the way?”

description: in which you dress your daughter up like her biggest hero for halloween: her daddy

pairing: nikki sixx x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist

*also, just a note, i’m gonna be adding vince’s daughter, skylar, in this even though she died two months before the halloween of 1995, just because i don’t want this to be a sad imagine when vince is introduced*

Your three year old daughter, Caroline, raced down the stairs into her father’s music room. She had just finished putting on her costume and was so excited to show her dad.

“Daddy, daddy, look!” she exclaimed as she bounded into his arms.

Nikki smiled at her as he looked at her costume. She had been growing out her jet black hair, the same color as his own, for months, and you helped to pick out her outfit and paint the familiar black makeup under her eyes.

Nikki looked at her, his eyes becoming noticeably wetter. “Well, this is like looking in a mirror.”

“I’m just like you, daddy!” she announced proudly. “I even have a guitar like yours!”

“A bass, honey,” you corrected her. “Why don’t you go get it to show daddy?”

Caroline quickly raced back up to her room. Nikki approached you and wrapped his arms around you. He placed a light kiss on your lips.

“So, did she decide this costume, or did you?” he asked.

“She did,” you assured him. “She came up to me a few weeks ago and asked me to help her look just like her daddy for Halloween, but made me promise I wouldn’t tell you. I pinky swore and everything.”

“Can’t break a pinky swear,” Nikki teased before kissing your forehead.

Caroline bounded down the stairs again, this time carrying a carboard cut out of a bass that you had helped her make. Nikki smiled at his precious little girl again and picked her up in his arms. “You better be careful baby, you just might steal my spot in the band.”

With the mention of his band, Caroline’s face lit up. “Daddy, can we go see my uncles?! Please?!”

You and Nikki shared a knowing look. Caroline loved the boys, and they loved Caroline. Tommy viewed her as his own daughter, and she was best friends with Vince’s daughter, Skyler. Even Mick had a soft spot for your beautiful baby girl, not that he’d ever admit it.

“Of course you can, honey,” you told her. “Let’s go get a jacket and something for your candy and we’ll get going.”

Caroline wiggled out of Nikki’s arms and tugged on his hand, trying to get the two of you to follow her quicker. You both laughed and followed the excited little girl.

~~~~~~

Your first stop was Tommy’s place. Caroline excitedly knocked on the door. When he opened the door, Tommy immediately took the little girl in his arms.

“Hey there squirt!” he said as he lifted her from the ground in a tight hug. “Happy Halloween.”

“You’re supposed to let me say Trick or Treat, Uncle Tommy!” Caroline said.

“Oh, I’m sorry honey.” Tommy placed her on the ground again. “Go ahead.”

“Trick or treat!”

Tommy smiled as you and Nikki came up behind Caroline. “Happy Halloween, drummer.”

“Happy Halloween,” Tommy said. “Come in, I have special snacks for my favorite girl.”

The mention of treats caused Caroline to race into Tommy’s house excitedly. You smiled as you followed her inside.

Tommy brought Caroline into the kitchen and sat her up on the counter. He rummaged through a bag he had. He pulled out two full bars and a can of soda, slipping it into Caroline’s bag before you or Nikki could protest.

“Tommy, you can’t give her soda,” you told him as Caroline excitedly thanked her uncle. “She’s too young to drink soda.”

“Come on, (Y/N), you can’t tell me you were never excited to get a full chocolate bar and a can of soda on Halloween,” Tommy said. “I always said I’d be that cool when I grew up, and I have to get the best treats for my best girl.”

Tommy kissed Caroline’s head as she reached into her bag, trying to grab the chocolate bars to eat. You had to take them from her and gently remind her that she couldn’t eat her Halloween candy already.

“We’ll be calling you when she’s still bouncing off the walls at 2am,” Nikki told Tommy, playfully hitting his arm, but still hitting it hard enough to make Tommy wince in pain.

~~~~~~

Next stop was Mick. A small smile came on his face for a split second when he saw Caroline on his doorstep.

“Hey Nikki, you’ve gotten smaller,” he commented.

“It’s me, Uncle Mick!” Caroline giggled.

“What? No way, you look just like Nikki.”

“That’s cause he’s my dad!”

Mick’s smile was much more obvious as he held a finger up for Caroline to wait a moment. He went into his house and returned with a handful of candy for the little girl.

“You’re my first trick or treater, so I’ll give you a bunch of candy,” he explained. “And for mommy and daddy.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as Mick passed you both cans of beer.

“I’d invite you guys in, but my back is acting up tonight. I don’t even think I’ll be welcoming trick or treaters much tonight.”

“That’s alright, Mick. You know you can call us if you need anything,” you told him.

Mick nodded. “I know. And I hope you know you’re far too good for Nikki here.”

You chuckled and nodded. “You guys tell me that often.”

~~~~~~

Skylar Neil answered the door dressed in a fake ball gown and a fake tiara. She smiled at Caroline and immediately hugged her tightly. “You came just in time! Me and daddy were about to go trick or treating!”

“Can I go with them? Please?!” Caroline begged.

You and Nikki shared a look before Nikki said, “Of course you can, honey. But you know you have to be home by dark, okay? And make sure Uncle Vince has you home by then and he doesn’t try to keep you out late.”

“I will!” She kissed the both of you before following Skylar into the house. You and Nikki stepped into Vince’s house to wait for the singer to come down to the porch.

The familiar head of blonde hair appeared soon enough. “Hey guys! I didn’t even know you were here.”

“Skylar sort of hijacked our entrance,” Nikki admitted. “Be careful taking Caroline around, okay? And have her back before dark. And don’t feed her any of her candy yet, she’s not getting any until tomorrow morning.”

“Geez, enough rules,” Vince teased. “But I promise I’ll have her back. Skylar has to be back to Sharise’s before dark anyways.”

You and Nikki nodded and said goodbye to Vince. The ride home was silent for a while. You could tell Nikki was thinking about something. “What’s on your mind rockstar?”

“I can’t believe she wanted to be me,” Nikki said. “Did she really ask to be me for Halloween?”

You took Nikki’s hand in yours and nodded. “Yes baby, she really did. She was so excited about it, she almost let it slip so many times. She wanted to keep it a secret so she could surprise you today.”

Nikki shook his head, very obviously trying to keep his tears back again. “I just...I never thought I’d ever even have a kid, let alone that they would want to be me for Halloween.”

“She idolizes you, baby,” you reminded him. “You’re her hero.”

Nikki shook his head again. “God, I love her so much. And you. You’re both my world, I hope you guys know that.”

You nodded. “We know, baby. And you’re our world, too.”

This kinda sucks but I didn’t have any ideas for it...sorry :(

[mystic-deep]

“You don’t know how to beg, darling.” part 2 | Nanami Kento x fem!reader

♡ ♡ ♡ description: Moving to your dream home had been more difficult than you had expected. Everything seems so be going well, until you get a surprise guest.

♡ ♡ ♡ warnings: nsfw, fingering, rough kissing, penetration, shower sex

♡ ♡ ♡ notes: part two is here! hope you guys enjoy it, I know I did while writing it haha and as always it's not proofread so please show mercy.

♡ ♡ ♡ part one here:  “You don’t know how to beg, darling.”

♡ ♡ ♡ word count: 3.3 k

“It’s not too big but it’s not too small, and property is selling like crazy in this neighborhood, so I think you’re making a great investment!”

The real estate agent pulled in front of a modest looking house and offered you a hopeful grin. It had been almost a month since you were house hunting and nothing really fit with what you were looking for. Your dream home was proving to be quite an impossible task – either the property was good but it was too far from the beach, or the property was right on the beach but the house was a disaster. The ones that hurt the most? The houses that were just right but they were over budget.

“I don’t know, I’m not impressed.”

With pursed lips, you stepped out of the car and looked at the exterior wall of the house that clearly needed some good repairs. As you followed the agent through the metal gate and into the front garden, you had to admit that it at least had some nice flower arrangements and sturdy trees offered a pleasant shade.

“It has two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a small study, a large kitchen equipped with all the newest gadgets, a garage and quite a cozy living room.”

As you stepped inside you had to admit that it looked much better that what the exterior had promised. The rooms were spacious enough, the main bedroom having a nice view of the beach and the kitchen was indeed equipped with everything you’d want a modern kitchen to have.

It might not have been perfect, there was definitely work to be done and the furniture it came with was hideous, but so far it was the best you’ve seen. However, just like you expected, it was over budget.

Sensing your indecisive state, like any good agent would, the young woman pushed you from behind towards the terrace. “Oh, but I haven’t showed you the best part yet!”

You gasped, you just stood there like an idiot and gasped as you stepped out on the terrace and looked straight at the sea in front of you. Forget being near the beach, you were literally on the beach! There was a small wooden trail leading to the golden sand and the blue waves, just a minute walk and you’d be submersed in the cool water.

“Imagine waking up to this every morning and imagine reading a book and drinking a glass of wine as the sun sets.” The devil on your shoulder, that’s what it felt like as she whispered almost seductively in your ear. You were impressed with her skill though - she definitely left the best part for last just to give it that wow factor.

Still, it was a going to drain almost all of your economies and - “The beach in front is private, you own it.”

“Where do I sign?”

The agent gave you a tight hug, more than happy to finally be rid of you, and dashed to the car where she happened to have a bottle of champagne prepared for the wonderful occasion. You thought to yourself that she either was so confident in her skills that she will convince you to buy this house, or prepared to get drunk after yet another failed attempt.

You looked back at the incredible blue sea and took a deep breath. It was scary, it was right down terrifying to jump head on into the unknown and with no current financial stability. You still had a regular income from your previous job since your boss pretty much refused to let you go, but you had half of your responsibilities and obviously half the salary. You would be on a tight budget for the next few months, you had to see if the house needed any immediate repairs and you had to redecorate everything inside.

“And when will your husband be joining you?”

You were brought back to the harsh reality by the excited voice of the young woman who was now pouring the cheap champagne in plastic glasses.

“Soon…he still has some things he needs to take care of back home.”

Your heart began to tighten in your chest as your thumb gently rubbed the golden ring on your index finger. You were so used to wearing it that you simply put it on every morning like routine. When asked, you told everyone that you were still married because you felt you would be safer that way and because, technically, you still were.

After your last exchange of messages Nanami had not contacted you once. He didn’t sign the divorce papers and you were starting to think that hiring a lawyer just seemed inevitable at this point. You had been so caught up with the moving and the house hunting that you just pushed it in the back of your mind like some trivial matter that you’ll take care of once you got around.

“Well I’m sure he’s just going to love your new home! Here’s to a happy family!”

You took a sip from the champagne glass, quickly spitting the liquid back before the agent could see you, and looked outside the window. Family…you felt like you were a long way from achieving that, but owning your very own little piece of heaven in Malaysia sure made things easier.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With a sigh you pulled the phone away from your ear as the whimpers of your boss were now scratching your eardrums. “No, I’m not coming back, we’ve talked about this hundreds of times already. Also, please stop crying.”

“And I’m telling you that you’ve offered them too much for such a small quantity of products. Last year when we made the purchase we offered them 30% less, what made them spike the prices so high this time around?” You poured the fresh coffee in your favorite mug and skillfully avoided stepping on your cat as you moved to place it on a tray.

“The bad economy has affected everyone not just them.” You propped your phone between your shoulder and your ear as you dropped a tablespoon of sugar in the coffee and began to stir. “Tell them that you’re going to offer them 10% more than what we offered last year and only if they increase the batch by 20%.” Your eyes narrowed slightly as you placed a book on the tray and a freshly baked pain au chocolat. “What do you mean what are you going to do with the rest of the products? Sell them to your competitors at double the price. Have I taught you nothing?”

Several minutes later, after somewhat managing to calm down the older man, you strolled down the wooden path to the beach where a large folding chair and a small table were waiting for you. You placed the tray on the table, sat down and took in the wonderful view in front of you. The weather outside was perfect and you decided to wear just a light summer dress that was slightly transparent.

You took a sip from your coffee and opened your book, deciding that this was a day for lazing around. It had been more than a month since you’ve finally finished with all the repairs and decorations but it was worth the long wait. Everything looked just perfect now, you had flexible working hours and you even managed to adopt a stray cat.

Yes, everything was perfect, everything was going great.

“Took me forever to find you.”

You looked up from your book and blinked once, blinked twice, and still couldn’t believe what you were seeing. There, hovering above you, stood Nanami with his blond hair and sharp blue eyes, with his sand colored pants and his white shirt with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows, the golden band of the wedding ring shinning in the sun.

“What…How…When…” You didn’t even know how to phrase your shock. A part of you was hoping that you were hallucinating.

“It took me forever to convince your mother to talk to me. Then probably just as long to get her to tell me where you were. She’s not really good at remembering small details so she had no idea what your house looked like.” He huffed in annoyance before plopping down on the sand by your side. “Took me awhile to find the house.”

“How did you get in?”

“Strangely enough she remembered perfectly where the spare key was.” Betrayed by my own mother, you thought bitterly.

“Why are you here, Nanami?”

“Not Kento? From what I remember, you’re Nanami too.”

Your face began to burn with anger and sensing that you were on the verge of exploding, he quickly fished out of his pocket a folded paper.

“I’m not here to fight, I just came to give you this.” You took the piece of paper with trembling hands and opened it. The divorce papers, and they were signed. Finally, your marriage was over.

“You could have just mailed them to me.”

“I didn’t come all the way here just to hand you the papers, I also wanted to talk. You owe me that much after pulling that disappearing act.”

Your first intention was to protest, then again maybe listening to him rather than fighting back would make things end quicker. You offered him a little nod to continue.

“I don’t have excuses for cheating on you. No one seduced me, I searched for someone to bend to my will and I found her quickly. I wanted to feel needed…no, I wanted to feel like I was dominating.” His eyes looked down to his hands almost in shame. “You were working so hard, you were so ambitious, it felt like you could truly achieve our dream…while I had so little hope it was possible, it felt like you would leave me behind.”

You listened attentively to every word, trying your best not to let the anger get to you. Just bear with it, let him say whatever will make him feel better and then you won’t have to see him ever again. Although, now that he was in front of you, that thought was turning to be hell.

“I was jealous, I was jealous of the fact that I was no longer your priority. I feared the day you’d realize you didn’t really need me and that you could achieve everything by your own.”

“So you’ve cheated on me and said all those cruel things because you were insecure?” Your eyes became watery as your hands curled in tight fists. “Is this all you had to say? Because I think I’ve heard enough.”

“I’m sorry, y/n. I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused, I’m sorry for not being strong enough to make our dream come true. That day when you left me was also the day I ended my affair. If I could…but I can’t, so I guess that yeah, that’s all I had to say.”

He stood up and gently patted his pants to get rid of the sand before looking at you.

“For all it’s worth, I really like the house and I like the cat and-” His eyes traveled to your chest that was covered by the thin white material of the dress. “-I definitely like this dress.”

Your cheeks turned pink and your arms quickly went to cover the skin that felt so exposed. Taking advantage of your distraction, he reached for your legs and lifted you up, carrying you princess style, and began to walk towards the sea.

“W-What are you doing?”

You were met with silence as Nanami continued his march unbothered by your kicking and screaming.

“Wait! The water is pretty cold!” Despite your protest, he entered the icy blue water, trying his best to hide the little winces every time a small wave hit him.

“Nanami, if you drop me, I swear-”

“I thought you wanted me to let you down.”

“Oh you’ve let me down plenty of times already.”

With a small glare, he retrieved his arm making you fall unceremoniously in the cold water. You let at a shriek and realized in horror that the divorce papers that you were holding were now being washed away by the sea.

“Oh no, how very tragic.” Nanami’s smirk and sarcasm were the last straw, and you plunged yourself at him, knocking him down in the shallow water.

His eyes grew large and tried to fight you as you straddled him and pinned his arms above his head.

“Move.” His voice was low and dangerous but the adrenaline pumping in your veins made you immune.

“You don’t know how to beg, darling.” There were a series of emotions flashing in his eyes, from shock, to anger, to amusement and finally…sadness.

“But if I learn, will you take me back?”

You looked at him and time just seemed to stop. Right here, this moment, this bickering and playing in the water, this half wet half disheveled man, the way he looked at you, your clothes wet and sticking to your skin, sticking to each other…it was perfect.

Your lips crushed on his in a hungry kiss and he eagerly retuned it. With a quick movement, he wrapped his arm around your waist and lifted your body along with his. Effortlessly, you thought as you your legs wrapped around his waist and let yourself be carried inside the house.

“Bedroom.” You motioned to the small stairs that ledmk to the first floor and he pretty much jogged towards the room, all the while maneuvering splendidly your excited cat that thought it was time to play.

He closed the door behind you before his hand reached for the back of your head and pulled you in for another deep kiss. You both began to shiver, probably from the excitement of finally touching each other for so long but also because you were wet from head to toe.

“Undress.” He pulled slightly away and began to unbutton his shirt, his eyes never leaving you.

“You’re pretty monosyllabic today.” You ignored his annoyed expression and focused on removing your dress, but your hands froze on the waistband of your panties.

What were you doing? Was this enough? Was this all it took for you to forgive him and welcome him back with opened arms?

“I’ll help you remove these.” With a quick movement, he pulled down the piece of lingerie and tossed it on the ground where the rest of the clothes were. You didn’t even realize when he had backed you against the wall, but now here you were, trapped like last time, the only difference was that now you were both very much naked.

He was so close to you that your perked nipples were softly brushing against his bare chest. Slowly, he let his hand travel between your thighs and began to rub gently with his thumb. You inhaled deeply and looked down at his cock, hard and swollen and begging for attention. You wrapped your small hand around it and gave it a few gentle strokes, noticing how his brows began to furrow and sweat began to form on his forehead.

He was hard and more than ready to have you against the wall, and as his finger travelled to your folds, he realized you were wet and needy and more than ready to be taken.

Just as you were anticipating his fingers to enter you, he pulled away and took a few steps back. You were left there, the light of the morning sun shining on your naked body and looked at him in a quizzical way.

“Beautiful…you’re just so damn beautiful.” Your face felt red and hot and the lack of his touch made your body shiver.

Noticing your state, Nanami gently took your hand and guided you both to the bathroom, turning on the shower before letting you step inside.

You left out a sigh as the hot water washed over your skin and glanced over your shoulder as Nanami stepped inside as well, one hand resting on the shower tiles while the other rested on your hip.

“Hard and fast.” He whispered in your ear as you felt the tip of his cock probing at your entrance. “Hard and fast and then I promise…I’ll make it slow and good for you.” With that he entered you with a deep thrust and you let your head fall back in a silent scream.

He wasn’t joking when he said hard and fast, his hips were snapping into you at such a pace you were seeing stars. Your hands fell on the wet tiles, trying to hold your body from collapsing. It had been too long for the both of you so you understood the urgency of fucking you so intensely.

His hand travelled to your clit and began to rub it vigorously, making all your body tremble from head to toe. “Oh! K-Kento!”

“So we’re back to Kento now?”

You turned your head to look at him and arched a brow. “Do you want me to call you ‘daddy’?”

He pinched your clit hard and rubbed your left nipple with little mercy. “Would you like to call me that, princess?” His hand left your clit and landed a slap against your ass. “Although, I suggest next time you put a little more effort into it, just to avoid punishment.” He was grinning from head to toe, the damn bastard was enjoying every single second of this teasing.

Your mouth opened in order to argue back but you let out a loud moan as he began to push himself inside of you even deeper. So close, you were so close and he was hitting just that right spot. The warm water was falling on your already hot skin, the slaps that his hips made against your body were making lewd sounds that filled the whole bathroom, everything was foggy and your mouth felt dry.

“Fuck, I’m so close-” You could hear him mumble some other words but you were so far gone at this point that the only thing that you could concentrate on was your inevitable soul shattering climax.

“Oh god, please, please, Kento, I’m almost, I’m-” You let out a scream as you came around his swollen cock, nearly collapsing in the process. With his hand tightly fixated on your hips, Nanami slowed down for a moment, letting you regain some kind of composer before returning to a fast pace. You were so wet, you were squeezing him so tightly, your little moans and whimpers sent vibrations to his lower stomach, making him shiver.

“You’re just so perfect, my love. You’re always just so perfect for me to fuck.” A few more thrusts and his hands gripped with such force at your hips that you were sure he left bruises. You didn’t care at the very least, not when your husband had just let out the most primal growl you ever heard him making and his cock filled your hole with his delicious hot cum.

You both just stood there for a few seconds, your forehead resting on the slightly cool tile while Nanami kissed your shoulders before finally pulling out of you.

“Now that hard and fast is over…when am I getting slow and good?”

“Always so greedy.” He let out a light chuckle before pressing a soft kiss on your lips. “I love you.” Just like that, he let the words roll out of his mouth with such ease and looked at you with complete adoration.

“I love you too.” You turned around and let your hands gently caress his cheeks, the happiness of being able to say these words again making you feel light as a feather.

“Good, I’ll need you to love me a lot. There will be plenty of other ‘hard and fast’ sessions before this day is over.” And for once, you didn’t open your mouth to argue.

[cxsmicmyeon]

SURPRISE! , kms

kim minseok x fem! reader

IN WHICH minseok wants to spend his 31st birthday at home with his wife and cat but you have other plans that may or may not involve a surprise birthday party. (based on the second prompt from this post by @creativepromptsforwriting​)

genre: married/domestic & non-idol au! fluff, humor word count: 3.0k warnings: swearing, light sexual references/jokes, implied sexual content (it gets a tad spicy at times but nothing explicit), chaos, minseok’s butt being The Bomb Dot Com™ (sorry not sorry)

author’s note: happy birthday to my ray of sunshine, kim minseok! i love you so so much darling, i hope your day is filled with so much happiness and celebration. hope this lil piece can help y’all celebrate min’s 31st with me <3 it’s not the 26th yet where i live lmao but it is in korea so yeah! once again have a happy happy birthday minseok, i love you endlessly and forever. <33 MOODBOARD MADE BY ME. I DON’T OWN THE IMAGES, I ONLY OWN MY EDITING. feedback and notes are greatly appreciated <3

One day.

One day until Minseok’s birthday, and you were scrambling from bakery to bakery to try and get the perfect cake for him. There were flaws in every place you’ve been: too expensive, the designs were not creative enough, blah blah blah. You wanted his day to be as perfect as possible, and what would be the point of that if the cake was nothing but?

Everything else was all ready. You invited all of yours and his closest friends to your house the night of Minseok’s birthday for a surprise party. You planned on keeping Minseok out of the house for the entire day as your friends decorated the house. 

He didn’t want a party. He made that abundantly clear to you as soon as March began. He incessantly told you that all he wanted was a day off from teaching so he could spend the whole day with you and your cat. All he wanted was a nice and relaxing day with his wife. You understood, obviously. But you also wanted to go all out and throw a surprise birthday bash for your husband celebrating his thirty-first year on Earth. Baekhyun, Chanyeol and Jongdae’s incessant whining and begging for an excuse to have a party only aided in your need to have a party.

You ended up settling with a simple Carvel ice cream cake from the frozen section of the grocery store. You made a mental note to ask Yixing to write out “Happy Birthday Minseok” the next day as you left the store.

You came home to your husband holding a feather toy over your cat, Tan’s head. She pawed at the red feather, always at the cusp of grabbing it before Minseok moved the line away from her. He cooed at the animal, making soft kissing sounds as he continued to play with her.

Realizing that he may see the cake, you tucked the grocery bag under your shirt in an attempt to hide it from him, shivering at the cold contact the frozen treat made with your skin. The rustling of the plastic bag caused Minseok to look up at you. He gave you a gummy smile as you walked past him and Tan.

“Well hello to you too, honey. What’s under your shirt?” Minseok asked playfully, wiggling his eyebrows as he made eye contact with your chest. You realized that hiding the bag did not do much to hide the cake, as the shape of the large box combined with the plastic grocery bag greatly protruded from the fabric of your shirt. 

“Nothing, it’s for tomorrow. Don’t wanna ruin the surprise, hm?” you mused, blowing him an air kiss before retreating to your office. He "caught” your kiss with a smile before going back to playing with Tan.

You entered your office and placed the plastic bag onto your desk. You ran to lock the door before opening the bag and taking the cake out, sighing in relief that the cake did not get ruined. You bent down to your mini-fridge and opened the small door of the freezer compartment and placed the cake inside, glad that it could fit inside. After locking the fridge, you exited your office and made your way downstairs to spend time with your loving husband.

You awoke the next day curled up in Minseok’s arms. You cuddled closer to him before jolting upwards in realization. Today was finally the day! You bent down and began showering your sleeping husband with excited kisses, trailing a hand down his bicep. He let out a sleepy groan as he stirred, wrapping his strong arms around your figure.

“Aah, what’s gotten into you baby?” he asked, his voice hoarse from just waking up. 

“Happy birthday, Min!” you beamed, pecking him on the lips. He grinned tiredly as he kissed you on the lips.

“Mmmh, thank you honey.” You grinned as you kissed him again. This kiss lasted longer than the previous ones and slowly yet surely grew more heated. You moved yourself so you were straddling him, not breaking the kiss. He hummed against your lips as you slid your hand underneath his shirt, fingertips grazing his toned stomach. He groaned as his hands made their way down to your ass, squeezing harshly. You bit back a moan as you slowly slid his shirt up his chest, breaking the kiss to ogle at his abs.

“Babe... don’t we need to get ready?” Minseok groaned as you pulled the shirt over his head. You latched your lips onto his neck and softly bit down, eliciting a raspy moan from your husband.

“Shh, let me give you your first gift.” you purred, moving your hands toward the waistband of his boxers.

The mall was packed to the brim with people from all different walks of life. Gossiping teenagers, sleep-deprived parents following their energetic kids around, old couples window shopping, you name it. You walked through the giant Macy’s and into the main hub of the mall hand in hand with Minseok. 

Since you started dating, it has been a tradition for you to buy each other’s gifts the day of your respected birthdays. You’d usually scour Amazon or websites of your favorite brands all day and end up splurging half your monthly paychecks on each other. But on occasion, today included, you’d take your shopping day to the local mall as a means to get out of your apartment and actually go out for once. 

After an... eventful... morning, you rushed to get dressed and usher your husband out of the house, since the boys were coming over at 11, and it was 10:55 by the time you got into the car and sped away toward the mall.

You pointed out a newly opened jewelry store and pulled Minseok inside with you. You looked at him lovingly as he browsed the display of a multitude of different rings. He’d softly mutter to himself as he picked up ring after ring: trying to see what would look best next to his wedding band, what the right price was, if the store even provided the correct size. You loved how organized he was.

Your silent admiring was interrupted by the familiar chime of your phone, indicating you got a text message. You let out a sigh as soon as you saw who the message was from.

operation minseok’s 31st🥳

jun-bug: (y/n) we have a problem (y/n): oh god what happened yee-xing: baekhyun dropped the cake (y/n): he did what bacon: cant u read (y/n) i dropped the fucking cake 11 minutes late: no need to be rude xoxo (y/n): yeah baek u don’t want me to leave my stunning husband inside the jewelry store, come home and mutilate you for dropping his cake and get arrested on his special day (: kyung-soup: oddly specific but i’m here for it jong-waeeee: off topic but the sign says “minseop” instead of “minseok” (y/n): jun, yixing and kyungsoo you better get this settled or else i’m gonna kill all of you nini bear: yes ma’am ofc ma’am we will do this correct chain-yeol: yeah i don’t wanna die today

“Everything okay?”

You quickly locked your phone and threw it inside your purse before making eye contact with Minseok. You nodded a bit too quickly, panic washing over you like a giant wave from the ocean.

“Yeah, everything’s dandy.” you sputtered. Oh, why did this have to happen right now? You silently prayed that everything was going to go well. It had to.

“You sure?”

“Positive. Did you choose something?” Minseok nodded as he handed you a box with a simple black titanium ring. You nodded in approval as he led you to the register.

Your next stop was at Express. You were dying to pick out some new work clothes for him to try on. You assured him (and yourself) that he needed these new pants and this was totally not an excuse for you to check him out.

“Okay, I’ve got three pairs of pants that I think would look absolutely amazing on you and I want you to go try ‘em on.” you said, handing Minseok three hangers. Each hanger had a pair of slacks in different colors hanging from them. He took them from you, shooting you a smirk before walking inside the fitting room stall.

Your eyes widened as Minseok opened the door of the stall. The pants fit absolutely perfectly. The way the fabric hugged his perfect thighs, the color complimenting his white undershirt (which you imagined to be one of his famous white button-downs), it left you practically swooning.

“What do you think?” 

You let out a hum in approval before motioning for him to turn around. “Lemme see the goods, hun.” He rolled his eyes before turning around. Your eyes landed on his butt, making you swoon for real. You covered your mouth to hide your obvious enjoyment of the sight before you. And it didn’t help when he gave his butt a mini shake. Still, you couldn’t help but squeal softly.

“You sure today’s not your birthday?” Minseok teased. You tutted as you stood from your spot and walked up to him, giving his butt a light pinch before wrapping your arms around his neck.

“With you, every day’s my birthday.” you answered, giving him a peck on the lips.

“Ugh, I think you ate too much of that egg and cheese for breakfast today.”

“You know you love me.”

“That I do, darling.” Minseok mused before closing the distance between you two. You tangled your hands in his silky black hair as you savored the heavenly taste of his lips. You felt his hands grab your ass as you deepened the kiss, tugging at his hair in response.

As you kissed, you heard your phone chime the same chime that indicated a text from the boys. You decided to ignore it and continue making out with your husband until the phone went off four more times. You scoffed as you broke the kiss, fishing inside of your purse to grab it.

“Is everything okay, hun?” Minseok asked.

“Yeah, fine. Just crap from, uh, ‘work,’” you lied, unlocking the phone. “Go try on the other pants.” Minseok nodded before walking back to the stall. Once the door was closed and locked, you looked down at your messages, worry washing over you once again. What the hell happened now?

operation minseok’s 31st🥳

yee-xing: oh christ yee-xing: (y/n) (y/n) (y/n) jun-bug: you gotta help us yee-xing: please kyung-soup: i am going to kill park chanyeol like my life depends on it (y/n): what the everloving shit happened this time chain-yeol: um i sneezed all over the cake kyung-soup: the custom one u got on wednesday btw (y/n): you. sneezed. on. the. CAKE????? chain-yeol: IM SORRY chain-yeol: I WAS TRYING TO STOP BAEKHYUN FROM KNOCKING IT OVER AND I SAVED IT BUT THEN I SNEEZED nini bear: ur so gross chain-yeol: you too (y/n): i spent 100 dollars on that cake and you fucking sneeze on it?? (y/n): jfc i’m here busy admiring my husband’s sweet sweet ass and u guys are telling me the cake’s ruined? i will murder u all i swear jong-waeeee: ew i don’t wanna hear about minseok’s ass (y/n): shut the fuck up sign ruiner jong-waeeee: I GOT A NEW ONE THOUGH jong-waeeee: YOU’RE SO MEAN bacon: WAIT bacon: (Y/N) WE’LL PAY FOR ANOTHER ONE  (y/n): baekhyun you sweet summer child (y/n): I HAD TO PRE-ORDER THAT CAKE 2 WEEKS IN ADVANCE YOU WALNUT bacon: oh bacon: my bad 11 minutes late: W8 W8 I GOT U 11 minutes late: WE CAN STILL EAT IT 11 minutes late: I’LL SPRAY SOME LYSOL ON IT jun-bug: SEHUN DON’T YOU DARE (y/n): sehun honey that just contaminates it even more (y/n): but thank you for trying 11 minutes late: xoxo i try my best yee-xing: how ‘bout we just buy more carvel cakes to match the one you got yesterday up to 100 dollars so it maxes out (y/n): yeah alright fine (y/n): thanks xing ur a life saver (y/n): but don’t throw away the ruined cake i wanna show min what he could have missed out on if CHANYEOL DIDN’T FUCKING SNEEZE ON IT (y/n): WHO SNEEZES ON A CAKE nini bear: only chanyeol (y/n): yep, only chanyeol chain-yeol: y’all are mean. kyung-soup: what u get for sneezing on the cake

You locked your phone, letting out an exasperated sigh. You swore if anything else happened today, you were going to march all the way back home and kill those men. You massaged your temples with your fingers as a means to alleviate your stress. All you wanted was for everything to be perfect for the party; Minseok deserved nothing less than that. 

The door of the stall opened, revealing Minseok wearing nothing but the new pair of navy slacks and a devilishly handsome smirk. His smile faded when he saw you with your hands over your face, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself down from your stress. He quickly pulled his undershirt on and rushed over to you, wrapping his arms around you comfortingly. With a sigh, you buried your face in his chest, your stress starting to wash away as he began stroking your hair.

You stayed like that for about ten minutes. You eventually calmed down, silently reassuring yourself that everything was going to be fine. You were glad that Minseok did not try to ask you anything since you were afraid you were going to let slip what was waiting for him when you arrive home later in the day. 

You let out a small sniffle as you pressed a small kiss on your husband’s exposed shoulder. “I’m so sorry I brought down your mood, Min. The p- ‘w-work,’ is just annoying right now. It’s your birthday, it’s supposed to be a good day.” you mumbled, looking down at your hands.

“Shh, don’t you worry your little head about it,” Minseok assured, kissing your forehead. He tilted your head up and pressed his lips against yours. “All I want is for my baby to be happy today.” You gave him a weak smile and wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling so lucky to have him in your life.

“C’mon, let’s go to the food court. All this stress made me hungry.” you joked, standing from your spot. 

“Good idea,” Minseok gave you another kiss before walking back into the changing stall to change back into his regular clothes. “Oh, by the way, buy the pants.” You pumped a fist into the air as you took the hanging articles of clothing into your hands.

You were lucky (and frankly surprised) that nothing else had managed to go wrong today. You were suspicious that you hadn’t gotten any panic-stricken texts from Yixing or Junmyeon, but you couldn’t complain about that. Just to be sure though, you quickly texted Kyungsoo to give you a final update on the state of your house. You sighed in relief when he responded with pictures of your living room, kitchen and backyard decorated just how you envisioned it to be. You sent Kyungsoo a text back thanking him and everyone else profusely for their help.

The clock struck 5, indicating that it was time for you and Minseok to go home. The two of you exited the mall, arms filled with different shopping bags from all the stores you went to during the day. After putting your bags into the backseat of your car, you opened the passenger side of the car and slid in.

“Hm, I was thinking of ordering from that ramen place we tried last week. It was really good, don’t you remember?” Minseok suggested, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot.

“How ‘bout we wait ‘till we get home to... eat.” you responded, a shit-eating grin almost making its way onto your face.

Minseok hummed softly. “I just wanna spend the rest of the night with you and Tan at home, I hope no one’s planning a surprise party for me,” You tensed slightly at his words, looking out the window to avoid his gaze.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that, hun.” You lied. He shrugged, intertwining his fingers with yours. 

When Minseok pulled into your driveway, you shot a quick text to the boys, telling them that you were home. You exited the car quickly, grabbing most of the shopping bags and taking Minseok by the arm, dragging him to the front door.

“Whoa, what’s gotten into you?” he chuckled as you struggled to get your keys out of your purse. Once you got them out and put the house key into the lock, you turned to Minseok and pressed your lips onto his.

“Happy birthday, Min. I love you so much. And I’m so sorry.” you unlocked the front door and pushed it open. You saw Minseok’s eyes widen at the sight of your home. It was filled to the brim with decorations and all of your closest friends holding gifts, balloons and tons of different ice cream cakes. 

“SURPRISE!” everyone exclaimed. Minseok’s jaw dropped as he fully took in everything that was happening. He looked over to you with a sly smile, to which you responded with a small shrug.

“I had to, come on.” You giggled, kissing him on the cheek. 

“It’s okay, hun. Let’s just enjoy ourselves.” Minseok cupped your face into his hands and pressed his lips onto yours.

“Gross, get a room!” you heard Baekhyun scream. You pulled away from Minseok to flip the younger off.

“Oh! I need to show you the cake I initially got for you but was unfortunately ruined because Chanyeol sneezed on it. Jun, is it in the fridge?” you pulled Minseok in the direction of the kitchen as Junmyeon confirmed the location of the cake.

“He... huh?”

“It was an accident!” Chanyeol whined. You laughed softly to yourself at his childish reaction.

Tonight was gonna be fun.

[dreadpoetssociety]

I Just Want My Brother

TW: Kidnapping, Abuse, Death, Drugs, Mentions of blood. 

Prompt: hi! i loved ur reid x sis!reader!! i was wondering if u could do one with reid x teen sis!reader and maybe she was a witness to something or got kidnapped and survived or something so they have to give her a cognitive interview and she refuses to do it unless spence is there or the one asking her the questions

Note: I really liked this request. I feel like I may have gotten off topic a littttttttle bit, but I tried my best! Also, sorry for any grammatical mistakes! 

()()()()()()

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 3589

You were never really one to defy your elder brother’s rules, given how lenient he was with you, but it was supposed to just be one fun night out with your friends. The night scene that your friends adored was never really your cup of tea due to the horror stories Spencer would come home with. Girls getting kidnapped going on a run, girls being drugged and killed at a party, girls just going missing off the streets never to be found until it was too late, things like that. After a while, he slowly stopped giving you the gory details when he’d noticed the actual effect it had on your own life, whether or not you chose to acknowledge that when begging him to tell you more, but not knowing what was out there did scare you. Especially after stealing one of Spence’s files and looking at the photos that it held.

But, you were feeling daring on this particular night. Your friends finally convinced you to sneak out of the house. Spencer wouldn’t be back from his current job until morning, and even if you did get caught, you were generally a good kid. You bent the rules from time to time, but most high-schoolers you knew were sneaking out regularly, skipping class, doing hard drugs and even getting arrested from time to time. How bad could you be? At least, that was the reasoning your friends put into your head.

So, you thought hey, if you ever have kids, mind as well at least have one cool story to tell them. You didn’t even bother to go through the apartment window, you just walked out the door and met your friends out on the street. It was nearly midnight, but the night had just begun. 

It was hours of going to this person’s house and that person’s apartment, stopping by a random party and making noise in the streets, until finally, your friends made it to a bar. 

“You know,” you laughed a little anxiously, “maybe we shouldn’t. I mean I don’t even have a way of getting in there.”

“Y/N, chill. I know your brother freaks you into obeying the rules, but those things he sees have like a .0001% of actually happening. Like what are the chances really?” your friend, Elliot, smiled at you. 

“Actually, about one out of 300,000 people get kidnapped, which doesn’t seem like a lot, but the actual percentage is-“

“Y/N, we’re fine! Kids do this all the time. Plus, I already paid that Barry kid to make you a fake. Consider it an early birthday gift.” your other friend, Sheila, pulled out her purse and passed you the piece of plastic. Although incredibly concerned, you were impressed by how realistic it was. You sighed. 

“Fine, you’re right.” you laughed, “But there’s no way I’m convincing that bouncer that I’m 21.”

“Confidence is key. Just stroll past him like you know what you’re doing. If you look nervous they’ll know. I swear, Y/N, those dudes can smell fear.” Elliot laughed. The three of you made your way to said club entrance, and although the bouncer did seem suspicious of you, he just let you in anyway. 

The club was loud, there was a band on stage and lasers going throughout the room. Alice and Elliot didn’t hesitate to drag you to the bar first. You’d drank a little before, but you’d never gotten buzzed, let alone completely drunk. It wasn’t really your style, and thankfully, Elliot and Alice respected that. They pressured you to do a lot of things, but not anything like drugs or alcohol. They merely pushed you out of your comfort zone sometimes, and irregardless of whether or not the adults around you thought they were a good influence didn’t matter to you. 

“We’re going to go dance, but we’ll be nearby if you don’t want to join us! Just make sure not to go too far alone, Y/N” Alice stated, knowing you would absolutely not agree to dance with them. You smiled and nodded and the two went off to do their thing within your sight. 

“What can I get you, young lady?” the man at the bar caught you off guard. 

“Oh, uh, maybe just a glass of water?”

“Ah, designated driver I presume?” he laughed.

“Yeah, something like that.” you replied, “Someone’s gotta keep an eye on those two.” you nudged your head towards your two friends who were living it up with some other people in the crowd who you think might’ve been your age, too. You were sort of surprised at how easy it was to get into this club, considering so many of your peers get thrown out of it or get caught. 

The man passed you the water and walked off almost a bit angrily. Understandably, though, because water is free.  You made a note to leave the man a tip later anyway. It was the least you could do. You played with the straw, took a few sips, and watched as your friends danced the night away. 

After a while, though, you began to feel off. Dizzy even, and you couldn’t think clearly. It was a hot summer night in a hot crowded club, the one cup of water you drank all day was right in front of you, so you figured it was the heat. You decided to take a quick trip outside to try and catch some air.

It was when you left the club that it really hit you. The world was turning, and you were barely able to stay awake. 

The club was located in an area that wasn’t super lit other than the one club sign. The bouncers must’ve been in the midst of switching shifts because there wasn’t one outside. 

“Hey young lady, you okay?” a man’s voice was all you could make out of him. You could see him, but you couldn’t, and it didn’t make sense. Someone grabbed you and the world went dark.

()()()()()()

You woke up slowly. You didn’t recognize your surroundings, the walls were concrete and disgusting. The room reeked of something. 

You tried to stand, but something was holding you to the floor. Having looked down, you noticed sort chains attached to both wrists. Your heart sped up, but you didn’t scream.

How the hell. . . you thought. How did they get me here? 

The last thing you could really remember was the water. What was in the water? It was too slow to be ketamine, too fast to be rohypnol. You wondered. Oh my god, gamma hydroxybutyric acid. Or cherry meth. 

You heard someone make a noise and instantly forgot about the debate in your head. Being able to think more clearly, and your eyesight less blurred, you began to take in your surroundings. There were windows in two two of the walls without glass. Taking a look, you noticed three other women in you line of sight. One in the room with you, who was starting to wake up, and two through the left and right windows. Straight ahead was a doorway that showed a room with a table on in the middle.

It was then that you really began to understand what was happening. The exact thing you were afraid of this whole time. Your breath sped up, your heart was nearly coming out of your body, your blood ran cold. 

“Hey,” the girl was awake now, “I’m Charlotte.” you looked at her wide eyed. Here you two were, chained against a wall, she was bruised and bloodied up and down, and she decided that it was appropriate to introduce herself? 

“What’s happening?” you didn’t even think to reply back to her. She could be anyone. She could be the person who took you, acting as your friend. Your paranoid mind raced through multiple scenarios.

“Look, you’ll be fine as long as you listen.”

“Listen? Listen to what? To who? Who took us? What are they-“ 

“You need to calm down.” she whispered, “If they hear you they’ll come. They haven’t been so nice to the noisy ones.”

If anything anybody had never shut you up before, that certainly did. You could feel the fear in every nerve of your body. he other girls around you faced the floor. One was in a party dress, the other in a pan suit. Looking at them, the girls had nothing in common. One had dark hair, the other had her hair dyed a faded blue, and the last was blonde, each with a different eye color and skin tone. You tried your best to think like your brother, but you couldn’t. Unlike him, you weren’t a genius, you were just average.

You heard a door creek open and all the girls instantly looked up. Through the doorway of your room, you saw a masked man walk in. You could almost hear the other girls’ hearts pumping. You watched in terror as he began to step towards you. When he got into the room, though, he turned towards Charlotte, and began unchaining her.

“No, please!” she cried, “Please, I’m sorry.”

“Shut up.” 

Charlotte went quiet. He aggressively picked her up by her arm and dragged her to the table, of which he pinned her down onto and began to strap her in. It wasn’t long before he opened a cabinet out of your view, and pulled out various rusty tools.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you asked. You didn’t even think out what you were doing. What the hell do you think YOU’RE doing, Y/N? you thought to yourself. Unconsciously, you knew that you can’t profile this guy like Spencer could, you couldn’t talk your way out of this, but you could protect the girls around you. How? By pissing him off. 

“Don’t speak, woman.” he growled.

“What are you going to do about it? Kill me?” he slammed a knife-like tool straight down into the table a millimeter next to Charlotte’s abdomen, “What? Did I hurt your masculinity, big boy?” 

He unstrapped her quickly. You figured what was coming for you next, and it wasn’t long before you were on that table. The leather restraints were on way too tight, there were splinters in your back already from the poorly sanded wooden table, which you figured was on purpose. And all you could do was watch, and scream, as this man did whatever he wanted to you. hitting you, cutting you, seemingly testing out tools you’d never even seen before. The camera on the ceiling told you that he was recording this all to watch later.

And all you could do was scream out your brother’s name.

()()()()()()

You didn’t know how long you were there. Hours, days, weeks, you had no idea. Time didn’t exist down there. Ever since your first encounter with the man, you tried to deter him from the other women around you any time he came around. And fortunately for them but not for you, it worked.

All of the pain and screaming left you numb, but it wasn’t until you saw him get angrier with one of the other girls that you weren’t able to comprehend your situation anymore.

She hadn’t been doing well, the one in the party dress. The color in her skin was drained, making her paler, her eyes sunk. And you watched as the man pulled a knife from his pocket, and stuck it right through her heart. The screams from you and the girls flooded the room, and it was like the air in the building was being sucked out. 

You would never forget it.

()()()()()()

You were asleep when suddenly you heard the door open again and your body began to shake. But it wasn’t the man who came in.

“Reid! I got her!” the sound of Morgan’s voice echoed in your ears. Spencer burst into the room, and while Morgan Prentiss, JJ, and Rossi tended to the other three girls, Reid and Hotch came straight to you.

“Y/N? Oh my god, Y/N, you’re going to be okay. We’re going to get you out of here.” Spencer panicked as he tugged at the chains, “Come on!” 

“Y/N, do you know where the unsub went?” Hotch asked. You looked at him, you understood his words, but all you could manage to say was,

“Liquid cherry.” 

“Y/N?”

“No, cherry E.” you were so distorted, either from the pain, or from the shock.

“Y/N I don’t understand.” Hotch said.

“Liquid cherry?” Reid repeated, “Y/N, do you mean Liquid E?” you nodded.

“Cherry meth.” Hotch confirmed. You don’t even know why you brought it up. It wasn’t important, and although that’s what the man used on you, it wasn’t even relevant at this point.

The rest was a blur. Being free had a different meaning to it for you then. But yet, you were brought into an interrogation room after the ambulance had deemed that you didn’t have any truly hospitalizing injuries, just horrible bruises along with scars that would probably never fade away. You looked down at the table.

Emily Prentiss and JJ sat on the other end of the table. 

“Y/N, we know you’ve been through something traumatic, but that man is still out there. The other two girls aren’t conscious, and you’re the only one who knows what he looks like.” Prentiss explained, “You might not remember, but we if you’re able, we want to do a cognitive interview with you. It might help you remember details you didn’t know you picked up on.” 

“I don’t want to be here alone.” you whispered. JJ sighed sadly for you, “I don’t want to do it unless it’s Spencer.”

“I know, Y/N, but your brother is personally involved now. He can’t work on this case.” she said. In your heart you knew why, and you understood completely. But your mind just didn’t follow, and you shook your head. You looked up, and the color of the room and placement of the mirror seemed to eerily familiar, and the scene switched.

There you were, back on that concrete floor, screaming out for Spencer. All you wanted was for your brother to come save you. You saw the man walking towards you. You screamed louder as he got closer.

You felt someones hands on your shoulders and the scene had changed again. You were breathing heavily, the interrogation chair was on its back, and you were in the corner of the room. Emily and JJ were crouched with concerning eyes in front of you.

“Y/N? It’s us.” 

“I can’t do it.” you sobbed, “Not without him. I won’t.”

Emily and JJ looked at each other and nodded. Emily walked out of the room while JJ sat on the floor with you.

“You’re safe now.”

“He’s still out there he’s not going to stop.” you whispered, “I just want my brother. I just want Spencer.”

She held you tight.

“We won’t let anything happen to you. Spence won’t let anything happen to you.” she reassured. 

It wasn’t long after that Spencer finally entered the room and signaled that it was okay for JJ to leave.

“Y/N,” his voice was soft, and you instantly felt safer in the presence of your brother, “are you sure you can do this?” you nodded in response. As much as it terrified you, you didn’t want that monster hurting any other girls. He was still out there somewhere. Spence helped you up and fixed your chair. You sat across from each other.

“Y/N, I need you to close your eyes.” he said. You did so, “Now think. What’s the weather like before you met the unsub? Was it cloudy, light, dark?”

“It was night. The sky was so clear.” you replied, imagining the time in your mind.

“You’re going out. Who are you with?” he asked.

“Alice and Elliot. Spencer, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have broken the rules.” you cried. Spencer hadn’t even considered the thought of you sneaking out until now, but had decided that it was a talk for another time, if he thought you’d ever be able to handle it.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. I’m just glad you’re safe.” he said. With your eyes closed, you couldn’t see the tears pricking your brother’s eyes. He’d seen many tragic things, done some of the most gruesome cognitive interviews, seen the most disgusting and vile actions done by the most heartless of monsters, but none of that beat this. His own sister. He’d watched the tapes that the man had recorded , and his heart sunk every time you screamed out his name, but his anger grew just as much, “Where did you guys go right before you met the unsub?”

“The club on 16th street.” you stated, seeing yourself and your friends right outside the doors, “Alice and Elliot convinced me to go in.”

“What are you doing in there?”

“Alice and Elliot went to dance. I don’t like dancing, so they stay near me while I sit at the bar?” you realized that you talked as if you were presently there.

“Who is around you? Anyone you recognize?” he asked.

“No, I’m alone with the bartender.”

“Is he talking to you?” Spencer questioned. It was then that you recognized something.

“What can I get you, YOUNG LADY?” the bartender’s voice echoed in your mind, and aligned with the man who asked if you were okay outside before you were taken. You realized that the size and stature of the man who had tortured you matched with the bartender. You gasped and opened your eyes quickly. You were visibly distraught, so Spencer grabbed your hand in a quick attempt to comfort you.

“Y/N, are you okay? If it’s too much we can-“

“The bartender, Spencer.” you huffed out, “He said something to me and spoke to me outside after I was drugged.”

“Do you know what he looks like? Or his name?” he asked. Your thoughts were so fragmented now that you couldn’t remember, and a few tears slipped down your face as shook your head, “Do you want to try to keep going? You don’t have to Y/N I don’t want to put you through this again.”

“No!” you yelled, “No, it’s okay. It’s important. I can do this as long as you’re here.” He smiled slightly at how much you trusted him, but it quickly faded.

“The bartender,” he started, “He’s talking with you, what’s he saying?”

“He asks me if I want a drink. Calls me ‘young lady.’” you replied, as you saw yourself seated at the bar. The man just looked like a blur to you, and you tried so hard to remember him.

“What’s around him?” Spencer asked. 

“Well drinks, obviously. Alcohol.” 

“What kind?”

“He’s got all kinds of fancy bottles. Jim Beam, Captain Morgan, Patron, Bacardi,” you paused, “The Smirnoff is the same color as his shirt. A red shirt as a bartender. He stands out in an odd way.”

“His shirt, is he wearing anything? A name tag?” 

“He has a lanyard. It’s got pins on it and a picture with his-“ you see his name in big black letters on the end of the lanyard, “Andrew Vaughn. The drug is started to hit me now Spencer I-“

“Hey,” his voice was soft as he quickly got up and hugged you, “you’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

“I’m so sorry!” you sobbed into his shirt, grabbing onto him. He put his head on yours.

“It’s not you’re fault Y/N. You’ve been through something traumatic, you can’t be sorry for it.” he said.

“If I hadn’t gone out like you told me, Spence! And those other girls. The one in the party dress! I watched her die! He just stabbed her and she bled out in agony, Spencer!” you nearly yelled. You almost couldn’t breathe, and your face was wet with the tears.

Spencer’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. Reid knew some what of what you were going through. He reminded himself of what it was like when Tobias Hankel, and tried to think of how he wanted people to treat him then when he was freed, and how long it took for him to be okay again. He never really was, and he was afraid that you would never be able to feel safe again, but understood why you wouldn’t. He just wanted to take care of you, and blamed himself for not being there.

Within the next few hours, Hotch had refused to let a very angry Spencer go with the team to the unsub’s house. The BAU, although, successfully brought your kidnapper into custody.

“You don’t have to worry now, Y/N” Morgan said to you, “We’re gonna make sure he never sees the light of day again. He’ll live the rest of his life behind those bars.” 

“Yeah.” was all you managed to say with the slightest smile as you walked through whatever precinct you were in. 

“Y/N, Garcia told me to tell you that if you ever need anything, she’s here. I think the same goes for the rest of us.” Rossi explained.

“Thanks. I owe you all everything.” you said.

“Let’s get you home.” Spencer put his hand on your shoulder, careful not to touch any of your injuries, and the two of you walked out together.

You would never be the same after that, but at least you had your brother by your side.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

The Get Ready Game

CW: Young children of rescued whumpee, referenced past child abuse, referenced past emotional abuse. CW for child’s trauma response/PTSD, Overcompetent Emotional and Logistical Support Oldest Daughter X 100, unhealthy coping mechanisms

@comfy-whumpee‘s Jax Gallagher successfully saved his children (and himself) from Savannah Marcoset. But Izzy, now nearly seven, remembers her mother very well still, and knows that if her father doesn’t yet feel safe, she shouldn’t either.

So she makes a plan.

---

Izzy finds her brother playing blocks in the living room, half-heartedly building a tower while his eyes are on the cartoon show playing on the telly. She glances side to side - Dad's at therapy, only left a little bit ago. There's ages of time before he comes back, and he’ll be all in his head and distracted but probably he’ll want to lay down, so if she wants to do this, she’d better do it while he’s gone.

“Jamie?”

“Hm?” Her brother doesn’t look away from the show, but he kind of tilts his head in her direction. He’s younger than she is, only four and can’t read yet. But he doesn’t have to, she can do the reading for them both. She reads at a high level, her teacher says. Izzy practices every single night, she’s the best reader in class. 

She has to be.

“Where’s Grandpa, d’you know?”

Jamie points to the side. “In the, um, in the kitchen-”

“Sssshhhh! Quiet, don’t let him hear I asked.” Izzy puts out both hands, and now she has her brother’s interest. He loves having secrets with her, special kids-only things. It’s why this works, why she can teach him what they need to do, just in case, without him running off to tell Dad or Grandpa right away. 

She goes quiet, listening. She can hear Alfie’s voice, low, murmuring. He stays home on the days her dad has to go to therapy, so Jax can go and then come back and lay down in his room without having to worry. 

Grandpa will be talking, probably with some tea in hand, and he won’t overhear them. It’s perfect timing. Dad at therapy and Grandpa on the phone, maybe for a long time. 

“Hey, Jamie,” Izzy says, keeping her voice carefully casual. “You want to play Get Ready with me?”

Her little brother brightens. Izzy isn’t the best at his kind of play, rough-housing or throwing things around, playing Daddy-and-Baby with the big soft dolls he’s given all sorts of odd names to. Izzy doesn’t like playing baby-holding games, and besides that she doesn’t like how loud he is about it. She’s too quiet, too prone to sitting very still or whisper-talking her way through pretend games about princesses that Jamie doesn’t find interesting at all.

But this game… this game, he likes. 

He knows it’s important, even if he doesn’t know why. He knows his big sister is trusting him with big important things, and not being irritated by him or pushing him away. James scrambles up onto his feet, accidentally kicking his little tower of blocks over in the process. Both of them freeze at the crash.

Alfie’s voice rumbles through from the kitchen. “You all right in there, Jamie?”

“I’m good! I just knocked over my blocks, is all! Can I watch one more show?” Jamie pitches his voice just right, and Izzy’s proud of him. He’s learning all the tricks, and he’s doing it without having to be scared first, without it having to be something he has to learn. 

“All right, one more,” Alfie calls back, and Jamie grins, giving Izzy an exaggerated finger over his lips. Izzy grins right back, one of her top teeth growing in still, one of the bottom ones flat out missing entirely, she only lost that one three days ago, wiggling it in class until it came right out. The two of them move out of the room and down the hallway, almost tip-toeing in their bare feet, listening to Alfie’s voice, on high alert for him to make his goodbyes. 

They make it back to the bedroom Izzy still shares with her father - two twin beds lined up in there, and Alfie’s been talking about moving to get Izzy her own room, but Izzy never feels safer than waking up from a nightmare to still be able to hear her father’s gentle, deep breathing nearby. Jax’s bed has dark blue blankets and Izzy’s has a deep purple fuzzy one, plus special sheets she picked out herself with unicorns on them.

“Okay, Jamie,” Izzy says in her stage whisper. Her brother’s eyes lock on hers, hazel-brown like they all have, but Jamie has Jax’s hair color and Izzy’s short, spiky hair is the same deep chocolate brown as her mother’s, reminders she can’t escape, only try to cut off short enough that she can’t see it. “How does Get Ready start?”

Jamie’s smile widens further. He knows this one right away. “We meet in the hallway outside your room,” He says, very seriously. “Then… we come in here and find the Get Ready bag,” He answers, eyes already shifting to the closet, where it was the last time they played.

“Nope, not there.” Jamie looks at her, confused. “It’s okay, Dad did something in the closet last week so I moved the bag, just in case. I don’t think he found it, though, I hid it really well. Can you think of where I might hide it now?” She lilts her voice, slightly sing-song, like her teachers do at school. 

Jamie looks slowly around the room, taking in every detail - the window with the curtains pulled to make it dim, the two beds with the table between them, a lamp. Dresser messy on top with things tossed there - receipts, interesting rocks that Izzy has found and kept and given to her father. Then he nods, firmly, to himself more than her, and points under her bed. “It’s there.”

“Are you sure?” Izzy asks, still in teacher-voice.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because… because, because you would want to get it fast if you woke up, and you can roll under your bed for hiding from Mom,” Jamie explains. He sounds very earnest, and Izzy smiles at him to reward him giving it so much thought.

“Go look and see if you’re right.”

Jamie walks over to her bed and drops down onto his hands and knees, looking underneath. He pulls out a stuffed-full old, raggedy-looking adult-sized backpack, a faded gray that might once have been black, some old band patches and button badges still stuck around the outside. “I was right! I was right, Izzy, I found our get-ready bag!”

His voice is too loud, and Izzy shushes him quickly, closing the still-open bedroom door. Grandpa won’t like it, they’re not really supposed to close doors to shut out grown-ups, but this is too important. “Good job, Jamie!” She says in a high sotto-voice. “You are right. So, if I wake you up and I say, we have to get ready, what do we do?”

“We grab our Get Ready bag,” Jamie answers, all seriousness, patting the top of the bag gently with one small hand. “And we hide, inside the back of the closet in the big box. Then, when it’s safe, we go outside.”

“Right. How can we go outside if Mom is in the living room, though?”

Jamie’s eyes go to the window, and he points. “We go out the window,” He answers, and when she nods, he gets a little braver and adds on. “There’s-... fire escape, out there. Like stairs made of metal. We climb down with our bag. You know how to unlock the window.”

“Good. Right, I do.” She’d had to work out the trick to the window over days when no one was around her, fiddling and messing and making her fingers ache until one day, she’d managed it just right. Child proof my butt, she’d thought, but then she knew she wasn’t as child-y as everyone else her age seemed to be. 

Everyone else didn’t have to be ready for what would happen if their mother came back. Everyone else didn’t still dream about their father begging their mother to stop. Everyone else couldn’t still remember, a little bit, screaming-

Well. 

Everyone else might not have a Get Ready bag, or play this game, but she did. And when it happened, she’d be ready. Even though she knows the grown-ups wouldn’t want her to do this, they’ll be glad when it’s time, when she does what her dad would do in her place and takes James and runs. He’ll understand, if she has to, and he’ll be proud of her for being ready. He will. 

She just can’t tell him ahead of time. 

Izzy drops down into a crouch and hugs James tight. His hair smells like strawberry kids’ shampoo, just like hers does, and he’s very warm and his hands are always sticky, even when he hasn’t been touching any sticky things. “You remember very well, Jamie. Do you remember what’s in our Get Ready bag?”

She pulls back, and Jamie presses his lips together in deep thought, tapping on his chin in an overexaggerated ‘thinking’ expression. “Toothbrushes,” He says, finally. “Mine has Wally Lizard on it.”

“And?” 

“And toothpaste, the kid toothpaste.”

She’d spent weeks and weeks getting enough - putting a little extra in a baggie every night, so that her dad and grandpa wouldn’t know she was taking more than she needed. There was enough now for she and James to last a while. “Perfect. What else?”

“Ummmmm…” He trails off, sitting on the floor and thinking about it. “There’s pull-up nappies, for me for sleeping, and underpants for both of us, and pants and shirts and Franken-puppy and Unicorn, and the black-and-white bear from the zoo-”

“Paulie Panda,” Izzy corrects.

“Paulie Panda. And also Monkey George. Um um um um there are juice boxes, and Monster Munch, and Jaffa cakes, and that thing with the nuts in I don’t like, and chocolate biscuits… Aaaaand books, and…” He stops and frowns. “I don’t remember what else.”

“No, that’s good, that’s better than last time. You’re doing great.” He puffs out his chest a little in pride, and Izzy smiles, settling down to sit with him, the two of them tucked in the space between the twin beds. “There’s also hair-combs, and some shampoo and soap in a bag I nicked from the shop.”

Jamie’s eyes widen, big as saucers. “You didn’t. That is taking, Izzy-bella, and taking without paying is wrong.”

“I gave them money for it,” Izzy says, dismissive, ignoring the prickle of guilt inside her chest, too hot and sharp not to feel at least a little. “I put some of Dad’s money on the counter when nobody was looking the next day. It wasn’t really nicking, I just didn’t want him to see me get it and have to explain. But also in the bag is… this.” She digs into a front pocket and pulls out a bunch of index cards scrawled with careful child’s handwriting, numbers and letters she had spent hours and hours on. “Do you remember what these are?”

Jamie looks down at them, cocking his head, then looks up and shakes it, side to side. His hair is longer than hers is. 

“These,” Izzy says, “are the most important thing of all. These are our numbers. I’ve got about three where I remember them without even having to look, but I’ll get the rest, too. The first card has Grandpa’s phone number, and Dad’s, and it has Nana’s and Auntie Poppy and Auntie Georgia’s, too. Plus the number for Nana’s favorite shop, because her friend works there and her friend could help us get to her if she isn't home. For starters, I’ll say one that you know. We know that if-... that if Mom comes back, Grandpa will probably get-...” She takes a deep breath, tells herself to act more like a grown-up, forces down the panic and fear and worry in her chest, pictures it curled into a ball and thrown in the back of her closet to gather dust. I’m not afraid, I’m not afraid. “Grandpa could get hurt and not be able to help us. So, what do we do when we get out on the street or run away from here?”

“We, um, we find grown-ups, and we… we ask them to call 9-9-9, and tell them our names and our dad’s name, and we say, our dad is in danger and needs help. Then we tell them Nana’s name, or anybody else’s.”

“Good. Really good. What do we do if she gets us and takes us back to America?”

James swallows - this part scares him, just a little. He doesn’t remember America, not really. He was only a baby. And he remembers it being a fun place for a holiday, from the trial. But he knows Izzy is scared of America, scared enough to wake up at night crying because she dreamed about going back, and so he is, too. “We find a phone,” He says, very soft and very slow. “And we push the numbers 9, 1, 1. And that will go to people who will help us in America.”

“Good, good job, Jamie. What do we say when they pick up?” They’ve rehearsed this, over and over again. It’s the most important part of the Get Ready game. 

“I say… ‘my name is James Timothy Gallagher, and I have been ab-... abd… I have been kidnapped.’”

“Perfect. And if it were me, I would say, ‘My name is Isabella Nicole Gallagher, and I have been abducted. I am six and three quarters years old and my brother James is with me and he is four, and we are English.’ Then what?”

“We say, um, we say our… our dad is Jackson Gallagher and he has been kidnapped too, probably, and he needs help. And Savannah M-... Mark-set-”

“Marcoset,” Izzy says quietly, sounding out each syllable for him.

“Mar-co-set… is who took him. Then… we wait for help to come.”

Izzy nods, and she rifles through the flashcards, scanning over the names and places and numbers she has carefully, painstakingly, been writing down while casually asking the librarian question after question. How to call emergency services in England, America, Canada, France, Russia, and the country Georgia. Her information, to hand to people, so she won’t have to repeat herself, is copied on six cards. 

Under the flashcards, a photo of she and her dad and James that Grandpa took, at the park. It’s a photo where her dad is smiling, and he doesn’t look scared or upset or closed-off. Just happy, with them. It’s the photo she wants to have to show the police officers who she has to hope will help them. 

It’s the photo she’ll have if…

“What do we do,” She asks, and her voice is thinner, trembles just a little. “What do we do if she takes him away and we get left behind?” 

James crawls over to her in a flash and holds on, putting his arms around her waist and tucking his head under her chin. His hair tickles under her jaw. “We go all by ourselves,” He answers, in his high voice. “You and me, Izzy and Jamie. We go by ourselves, and we go find Nana.”

“Right.” Izzy closes her eyes against a rush of heat, of tears. “I-I have a card-” Her voice catches and she clears her throat. “Dusty in here,” She says, hoarsely - her grandpa says that sometimes when he’s pretending he’s not teary - and forces her racing heart to calm. Stop it. If Dad is gone, you have to be the grown-up, then. When she finally speaks, she manages to keep her voice slow, and even. No sign of her fears at all. “I have a card with Nana’s whole name and address on it, and which buses we take to see her. We can-... we can do it ourselves, all by ourselves. I know we can. But-... you have to be very good and quiet, so we don’t make anyone look at us and the bad guys can’t find us.”

“So Mom can’t find us,” Jamie whispers.

She nods, chin moving against his hair. “Right. We have to go very fast, and be very very quiet, so Mom can’t find us. But with our Get Ready bag, we have everything we need, if Dad-... if dad can’t help us. Okay, last question for our game and then we’ll be done. Do we tell Dad or Grandpa about Get Ready?”

“No.” Jamie answers right away, immediate. He knows this one. “Because, because they… might tell Mom about it.”

“Right. Even if they don’t want to tell her, she might be super mean and hurt them lots to make them. She used to hurt Dad until he would tell her things she wanted to hear, before, and she’ll be even madder now. But… if we don’t tell them about Get Ready, then they can’t tell her, right? So we can go find Nana before Mom does, and if Mom gets to Nana before we can, we have food and everything for a few days until the police officers help us.” Izzy holds him tightly, resting her chin against his hair. “I’ll take care of you, James. I promise, I won’t ever let her hurt you.”

“Dad won’t let her hurt us neither,” Jamie answers, but he likes the cuddles, and he doesn’t pull away. Izzy doesn’t hold him very often. 

“No, I know. I know he won’t. But… if he can’t stop her…” Izzy sets her jaw, closes her eyes against the memory of the bright red spots layered over older scars around her father’s neck when his big black necklace first came off. “If he can’t… I can. I just have to be very strong, and very smart, smarter than she is even. I have to be smarter than all the bad grownups.”

“And I have to be quiet and brave.”

“Right. And you’ll be very good at it. I know you will.” She squeezes him, so tightly both of them ache, and then pulls back and away, shoving the backpack back into its hiding spot, opening the bedroom door. The two of them get back to the living room just as their grandpa’s phone call finishes in the kitchen, and by the time he comes back in to ask them what they want for snacktime, James is back building his tower of blocks, and Izzy pretends she’s been on the couch with her chapter book the whole time, sitting open in her lap.

She doesn’t realize she opened it upside down until her grandpa’s gone back in the kitchen to get their snacks ready, and she flushes, embarrassed at the stupid mistake.

Still, she’s… she’s pretty sure he didn’t notice.

Every time they play, James remembers a little more without her having to tell him. Maybe… when their mom comes for them… Izzy can save Jamie - and then get help to save her father. 

And he'll be proud of her.

He will.

----

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @wildfaewhump @whumpiary @whump-tr0pes @moose-teeth @orchidscript @sableflynn @pretty-face-breaker @raigash @vickytokio @eatyourdamnpears

[dustofbrokenheart]

The Covenant: I’m With the Bassist

Reid Garwin x Female Reader

Word Count: 2,631

Warning:  contains physical intimacy and mature language

Summary: Your band is popular on the local music scene and one fan in particular has managed to catch your eye. One night, you take him back to the dressing room after a show and things get heated. 

Colored stage lights bore down of the band, illuminating them for the crowd’s sake but the heat had long since taken its toll. Even the crowd appeared damper than when the show first started.

Your cloth bracelets were glued to your skin and chaffed uncomfortably against your wrist with every stroke you played. The choice to wear a black top was a good one because it hid the patches of sweat well even though you felt soaked.

There was no such luck with your face—a trail of constant sweat had been trailing down the side of your face for the past hour and you suspected that the precise eyeliner you walked on stage was smudged. Hopefully, it was more of an artistic smear and not a case of you looking like a racoon, but there was no way to be certain.

Your singer’s voice trailed off as the song faded out and you strummed one last chord on the bass before ending. The crowd writhed in electric frenzy, riding a concert high and expressed their delight in different ways, most directing their energy into cheering but there were a few who opted to throw things on stage. Empty red solo cups and an assortment of men’s and women’s underthings, mainly.

The singer grabbed the mic and walked to the edge of the small bar stage. “Whoo! How’s everyone doing!?” Screams rang out in answer.

Your band was small-time only performing on the local circuit two to three times a week, but the fan base had been growing and there were always loyal faces that the venue being played on a given night.

Blue eyes in the front of the crowd caught your gaze for a second as you looked over the crowd.

Then the singer spoke again, pulling your attention back to the band. “Thanks for coming out, we love you. Honest! See you guys next week!”

The main lights turned on lighting up the inside of the bar with its usual dingy, yellow bulbs. Applause and cheers rang out once more from the fans as the band readied to exit.

Purposefully ignoring the audience, more specifically the front rows, you turned back to talk to the drummer while sliding your bass strap over your head to take the weight of the instrument off of your shoulders. The band threw quick waves to the fans, and the guitarist stopped to pick up a particularly silky pair of men’s boxer briefs with a coy smile, and then you all bustled to get to the dressing room.

Performing on stage for people was an addicting rush, for sure, but you liked having down time in the dressing room to come off of the adrenaline and go about your business privately.

First thing you did was get yourself to a mirror so you could clean up the mess around your eyes. Luckily, that night’s smeared make-up looked tastefully done and not like a clown rendition. Next, you redid your eyes so that they returned to their glory from the start of the show; a nice, sultry bass player look. A dash of lip color followed, but nothing so obvious that the rest of the band would notice that something was afoot.

You took your sweet time in the dressing room and one by one the other members left, until you were the last one in the room. A few minutes passed until you peeked out into the hall. Everyone was used to you taking your sweet time after shows so it wasn’t weird that you were still in the dressing room. Sneaking someone in was though, and you didn’t want to get caught in the act.

He saw you signal him from his position up the hall near the bathrooms and grinned, sauntering slowly towards you until he was within reach, at which point you hauled him into the room and slammed the door shut. The lock engaged with a click and you turned to scowl at him. “Could you have dragged your feet any slower? Someone could’ve seen you!”

“Are you really that embarrassed of me?” he pouted. “You’re gonna give me complex, babe.”

“You know that’s not true. It’s more like… I’m just trying to spare myself the roasting for as long as possible. They’ve never seen me with someone and they’re going to rag on me no matter who it is.”

“Even if it’s a fine specimen such as myself?” He puffed out his chest and pursed his lips in comical exaggeration.

“You’re lucky I like you so much Reid.”

Reid Gawrin, or ‘groupie guy’ as you had initially referred to him as, was a big fan of the band and had been coming to every show for three months straight. It was hard to miss him with that blond hair contrasting with his black beanie and intriguing tattoos that showed when he rolled up his sleeves or wore a loose collared shirt. And those blue eyes… it was easy to yourself in them.

He’d always made sure to stick around after shows so that he could chat you up and at first you figured he was just a groupie looking to score with a band member, hence his moniker ‘groupie guy.’ Not wanting to come off as rude you indulged him in conversation, but always kept your distance.

It wasn’t uncommon for people to try and sleep with the band, and to be honest, the band did end up in bed with some of them. Take your guitarist: she always managed to pick up the hottest women and men. It worked great for her but you wanted something more and weren’t going to take a chance on the guy, even if he was cute, if he was just looking for a hook-up.

And, who knows, maybe it had started out as purely physical attraction on his part, but the two of you had grown emotionally attached after a while too. It was the emotional side that had led to the current situation. Not officially dating, but no longer musician and groupie either. And that lack of a label wouldn’t stop you from finally getting intimate that night.

Reid picked you up with ease and you wrapped your legs around his waist, his hands gripping your fleshly thighs as he pressed you between the hard brick wall and his body.

“You were incredible tonight,” he murmured, pressing soft kisses onto the hollow of your neck. Your head titled back and hit the wall with a thud as he trailed upward with his nose so that he could kiss the soft underside of your chin.

“Yeah?” you panted with excitement. You knew what was coming next.

He nodded and finally kissed you on the lips, his tongue quickly gliding inside of your mouth with strong, measured licks. “Bassists are always hot.” Your eyelids drifted shut and you lost yourself to his ministrations, a warm cloud of pressure weighed down your muscles.

As soon as you moaned, Reid wasted no time in grinding his pelvis against yours, the friction from his belt buckle rubbing you just the right way to fire up a reaction in your core. You pulled back, panting and he chuckled at you trying to catch your breath. “You like that?”

He was obviously fishing for an answer but you weren’t so gone that you’d give into him just yet. You merely nodded your head and bit your lip at a particularly delicious thrust.

“Tell me you like it,” he pressed.

Still, you refused him and he took it as a challenge to get you to use words. He relaxed his hold your thighs so that you slid down the wall and ended up resting high on the leg he inserted in between yours. Now you were not only stimulated by his grinding, but also rode his leg whenever your hips, the added pressure making it harder to not give in.

Your will hung by a thread, ready to give at any moment. Then he upped the ante by reaching down the waistline of your bottoms into your underwear, his fingers skipping past teasing to directly touching you in your most sensitive place.

“Tell me. Tell me you like it.”

“I like it,” you whined, your mind filled with pleasure.  

“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it? You’re a good girl.”

His wandering nail-polish covered fingers reached down lower to cup your slit more fully and Reid purred when he felt a gush of wetness flow from you. “You liked that, huh? You like being my good girl.”

A nod. You weren’t used to this kind of dirty talk. Most guys are not good at it but Reid was. He didn’t give a shit what he said as long as it produced results and produced results it did.

“So wet,” he grinned as he slid a finger into you experimentally. “See, went right in you, just like that.”

A single black nail tipped finger soon turned into two and he was eager to caress your silky inner walls, scissoring his fingers into a v that stretched you nicely. “Shit, Y/N. Look how tight you are, you don’t wanna let my fingers go.”

You gasped, goosebumps raising on your arms. It was a good thing you were against the brick wall because you didn’t have the strength to support your head on your own. As it was, your head was still lulled to the side.

It took Reid capturing your chin in one hand to get you to straighten out. The other hand was removed from your pants and used to circle one of your wrists so that you were unable to turn away. He pressed his lips gently against yours, a stark contrast from the lewd things he had done a second ago.

He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes wild with adoration and desire. “Does my good girl want more?”

“Please,” you begged.  

“Do you need it?”

“Please!”

With a parting kiss, he dropped down to his knees and pulled down your pants and underwear with a single tug. Your shaking hands grasped his hair as he placed his mouth over you, the blonde strands wrapped around your fingers. His breath was warm and, unlike when he was kissing your mouth, his tongue was relentless against the bundle of nerves between your legs. Circling, laving, sucking. It all blurred together and you realized that you were in trouble. If it was this good with just tongue, how would it be when he actually put his cock in you?

You moaned just thinking about it. Your legs squeezed together in reaction to his excellent skills but he didn’t seem to mind being stuck down there. Time lost meaning; it was felt like it was passing too slowly and too quickly simultaneously.

Eventually, his mouth left you with a wet pop and he stood at his full height. Making direct eye contact, he popped the top button on his jeans open and kicked them off, his shirt and beanie following suit. He stepped forward and hooked one of your legs around his waist to make more space.

You settled your hands flat against his chest and that damn tattoo that’s been teasing you for the past couple of months is now completely exposed for your gaze. It vaguely registers that the boy is ripped. Like, six pack ripped, but it’s the tattoo that you couldn’t stop looking at. It sloped at the base of his neck and extended past his collar bone; it was mesmerizing.

“You like that one, don’t you?” he cooed, noticing your heated stare.

Blue eyes held yours as he rolled on a condom. He entered you in one sharp thrust, your core feeling stretched and full. A sound that you didn’t know you were capable of making poured out from your throat and you immediately raised hid your face.  

Logically, you knew pleasure was nothing to be embarrassed about, but you couldn’t help feeling like you needed to reign yourself in.

Reid pried your hands away from your face and kissed you while he continued to drive in and out.

“Don’t be shy, baby,” he cooed. “I like your noises.”

Almost like his voice had control over your body, another whine left you. “Reid. I-I nee- I need…”

“What? Be a good girl and tell me.”

“More,” you cried out. “I need more.”

He picked you up entirely, both legs circling his waist and walked you over to the couch. Honestly, all of the furniture in the room was probably suspect given that all the bands used it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to focus on it during that moment.

Your back hit the couch cushions and then Reid was back to swiveling his hips, his cock hitting just right. This new angle with you on your back, your legs hanging over his broad shoulders, had your cries rising in pitch and frequency.

The euphoria was suddenly interrupted with a sharp knock. Panic ensued you snapped to look at the door. Thankfully, it was still locked which meant that you wouldn’t get caught in a comprising position, but there was still the matter getting rid of whoever it was.

“Yo, Y/N. You still in there?”

You were about to answer when Reid cupped your right breast and bucked into you hard. Shocked, you looked up in disbelief, your mouth wide open with no sound coming out. He merely winked and did it again.

The second time a whine escaped you and another knock rang out. “Y/N, you good?”

Reid leaned down to whisper conspiratorially in your ear. “Better answer them, Y/N.”

You swallowed. Risk wasn’t something you considered yourself to be into, but was a lie to say you didn’t feel yourself getting wetter at the thought.

Hoping and praying that you would pull it off, you tried to talk but nothing came out but a croak. Clearing your throat, you tried again. “H-hey. I’m still here.”

“You good? Why’s the door locked?”

In an attempt to keep your voice steady, you closed your eyes and clung on tight to Reid’s shoulders. “Just changing. Locked it to be s-safe.”

That was the right thing to say cause the voice at the door immediately backed off with an apology and left the two of you alone.

“Good save,” he acknowledged. He slowed his hips slightly and reached down to circle your clit with his thumb. “I think you deserve a reward.”

“Oh my—Reid.”

The ceiling came in and out of focus as Reid coaxed you to the edge at last. “Come on, Y/N. Say my name.” One well pressured flick to the small bundle of nerves did the trick and sent you flying, bucking like a high wire cable flailing wildly in the wind and chanting his name in a desperate prayer.

Your core clamping down on him sent him tumbling right after you with a drawn-out groan as he held himself deep inside you.

He dropped next to you on the couch, out of breath. “Shit.” He took a moment to compose himself and repeated his words. “Shit.”

You rolled your head to pin him with a teasing stare. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Oh, there was definitely a pussy involved.”

A weak slap landed on his chest. “Don’t use that word, you sound ridiculous.” Your favorite tattoo was within petting range and you kept your hand there, stroking it gently. The two of you settled into quiet bliss, content to cuddle into one another.

“That was a good one,” Reid finally remarked, stroking your arm. Exhausted, all you can do is nod against his toned chest. He hummed and you waited patiently for him gather his thoughts. “Think we can get another round in?”

_______________

Forgive me, for I have sinned 😂. Is it even good? I’m not sure but thanks to those who read it. Partly inspired by a conversation with @rpwithjayn​ but I made Reid the groupie instead of the rocker. Hopefully I did him justice for all of the Reid fans out there. 

[kweebtrash]

StreamHearts Timestamp 11:59pm

Title: Fuck It, I Love You

Pairing: Camboy!JohnnyxCamgirlOC (Rem)

Word Count: 3.1k

Genre: Smut/Fluff

Features: established relationship not a perfect sex life, heavy size kink, soft-ish dom johnny, petnames, teasing, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie.

Synopsis:

Though Rem is a smart business woman she hides behind a computer screen all day designing websites for large companies. However, when her day is done she’s still behind a computer screen but now showing the world how hard she can cum. She never wanted to be a camgirl but when financial duties called she took it upon herself to make it. The spotlight (and money) got to her and she expanded to showcasing her nerdy side; livestreams, lewd cosplay photoshoots, let’s plays, subscriptions, review, vlogs, tutorials, you name it. Her streams catches the attention of a fellow cammer, Johnny, who on a whim decided to message her. Both aren’t the sexed up dolls they pretend to be in the online life and instead ease their way into a relationship with not so perfect sex, mistakes, and total confusion.

A/N: This used to be on my Kofi which im closing down and just putting everything up on here. This isnt continuing.

Masterlist     Johnny Only Masterlist

~~

“I just want to tease the fuck out of you.” The words came out as as sultry whisper poured into my ear. His tongue trailed against the cartilage, leaving the skin heated and wet similar to the junction of my thighs. Johnny had been kissing me for god knows how long. I had become so lost in him; his words, his touch, his entire being beside me. I was helpless and unable to escape the intoxication though I never wanted to. His words, however, put me in a place of submissiveness where i feared his teasing.

“P-please don’t…” I whined as I chased his lips from a kiss he denied me. “Don’t tease me. I’ve been good.”

“Have you?” His eyes were heavily lidded, pupils dilated with oxytocin and endorphins. The thrill of my eminent destruction only added to the sparks between us yet I was dreading it entirely. “I saw what you were doing in your last stream. You got a bigger dildo, didn’t you?”

My face rushed with color as i averted my gaze. “W-well...i wanted to practice.”

“Practice for who, baby?” He smirked and pushed a few sweat drenched stray hairs away from my face.

“Y-you, of course.” We hadn’t fucked on camera yet. We had come to the consensus not to until we perfected the art of intimacy between us first. Though there was a small problem, or rather a large problem. The first few times Johnny had tried to penetrate me it was futile. The thickness of his head was no match for how small my hole was. No matter how many fingers he could attempt to fit inside me (barely two) to try and stretch me out or how much lube or cum i exerted helped. And so I took it upon myself to cast aside my six and seven inch dildos to try and accommodate for the moment where we would unite.

“Still too much, huh?” He chuckled lowly. I watched as his fingertips barely brushed against my skin as he made a ticklish trail down my stomach to the thin fabric of my panties. They slipped beneath the cotton and i instinctively spread my thighs. His middle finger pushed between my lower lips and circled my entrance languidly. “Why is my perfect princess so tiny?”

“I’m sorry,” I said with a heavy pang of guilt. I had constantly felt like I had ruined moments in our beds because my body wouldnt except him even if my mind and heart were yearning to have him so deep inside me that i could feel him in my stomach.

Johnny pressed a kiss to my forehead and smiled. “Don’t be. I love how fucking tight you are for me.”

I scrunched up my nose and pushed his face away playfully. “Don’t say such things. You make it sound pervy!”

Another chuckle. “I can’t help it sometimes.” He began to move his finger through me, gathering the wetness that had accumulated and spreading it over the most sensitive areas. “You know it turns me on to see how small you are.”

I pressed my lips together in an attempt to hide a mewl. I was lost on what I had wanted to respond with as my brain frizzled. “U-uh, um...I th-think your size kink is s-showing!” My stomach clenched when he dipped his fingertip in, alarming me. He shushed me gently, cooing at me to relax as he placed kisses and nibbles along the column of my neck.

“I got you, baby girl. You know i do.” I wrapped my arms around his torso and pulled him closer together so i could bury my face in his chest. His free arm snaked around me as well, settling on my shoulders as he gauged my reactions to his minuscule thrusts. I bit down on his collarbone as I rushed to rock my hips and let him know that I was able to take more. He pushed into me deeper, curling his finger quickly in an effort to make the sound of my natural lubrication bounce off the bright pink walls of my room. “Did you get all worked up just from me kissing you?”

He was proud of himself. I could always tell in the tonality of his voice. A certain cockiness that anything he did made me wet. It stemmed from the exchange of us watching each other’s streams. I had spent hours consuming video after video of him jerking off, fucking his own ass, and doing other lewd acts that got him tips in seconds. He, on the other hand, told me that he was more captivated by the faces and sounds I made and would prefer to just watch as he fucked me. It sounded silly to say since I had thousands of viewers and I masturbated on camera but I was still a shy person who preferred to metaphorically hide their head in the sand like an ostrich. Johnny intimidated me as many a times my face would be forced towards his and i was commanded to not dare look away. His deep brown eyes would peer into my soul, eating it up like a meal and leaving me an empty husk of a woman once I orgasmed at his hands. “Shut up.” I said through gritted teeth as he halted his vibrant thrusts.

His finger left me and instead disappeared into his mouth. With a slick pop he removed all of my taste from the digit and sighed as he gave me a once over. “Take these off.” He snapped at the band of my panties that he had stripped me down to during our initial makeout session. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband and wiggled them down before flicking them off my foot. Johnny spread my thighs wide, leaving me completely exposed. I went back to hiding in the crook of his neck, hoping he wouldnt notice if i distracted him with some bites. A harsh tap to my clit told me otherwise. I yelped and laid my own defensive slap against his chest. "Jerk!"

"Dont close your legs then." Johnny said sternly. I pouted, puffing out my cheeks as i rolled away from him, my arms across my chest. His large hand grabbed onto my hip and pulled me onto my back again. He didnt particularly like when i protested or became a bit bratty. A submissive princess was where he liked me to be at all times. Though now I wasnt even able to utter a word because he hooked his leg over mine, keeping my thighs separated while one hand grabbed both my wrists and pinned them above my head. His other hand was back to grabbing my face and forcing me to look at him. He'd be damned to hell if he didnt break that habit of mine. "The fuck did i just say?"

I flexed my fingers as i tried (and failed) to release myself from his grasp. "You said…" i looked into his eyes that had honeyed in the yellow glow of my bedside lamp. That was another weakness if mine, as if Johnny as a whole wasnt enough. His eyes in particular always destroyed me. I couldnt expressing the rest of my sentence, which was supposed to be a snarky retort, because of the intense hold he had over me. I was instead stuck nibbling at his bottom lip and whimpering for him to let me go. "I could touch you." I finally said in between small licks. "Youre hard."

"And? I get off on seeing you get off. I also get off on when youre a good girl for me."

"Liar. You love it when i misbehave. You always start moving the toys faster when i do." That was what he used when he really wanted to punish me; small dildos and vibrators in various settings and speeds, making sure i writhed and arched with every thrust.

"And what toy should i used on my babygirl tonight? What would get you all pink and squirmy for me?" He smirked and sucked my lips between his, lapping at the soft skin.

"I dont want a toy. I want you." I admitted.

Johnny sighed and pulled away from me entirely. "You know we cant. We've tried and we cant. I told you im not going to hurt you."

"I know!" I clutched onto his arm. "I know. But this time will be different. Im gonna do it."

He shook his head. "If i force it too much i could tear you. Rem, i'm seriously not going to try right now."

"Please!" I begged and looked up at him with puppy eyes. "Just one try, ok? Just one? You dont know how many times I've dreamt about you fucking me senseless. I just want you inside me so badly. I cant take it anymore."

He rolled his eyes, annoyed at my persistence. "Fine. Just one try. And i mean one."

I gave him a sweet kiss and pulled him on top of me. He settled between my legs which i laid on the outside of his thighs. He stroked the smooth and sensitive skin on my inner thighs as he trailed his thumbs upwards to spread my lower lips apart. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips as he drunk in the sight at my slightly flexed gape. "Are you sure?" He asked.

I pushed my hand between us and gripped the outline of his cock firmly. "Johnny I don't want you, I need you."

He went to say something again but snapped his jaw shut. Quickly, he discarded his boxer briefs and guided his swollen cock towards my entrance. Seeing him throb was another part of my guilt. He would leak and swell as we romped around and yet could only get off by a blowjob or a handjob. Sometimes he would thrust between my thighs or against my ass but I knew it was just barely enough for him. His cum didn't belong splattered across my skin; it belonged inside me, filling me to the brim and keeping me warm. I closed my eyes and let every bit of tension leave my body. If I could just get the head in, it would be smooth sailing from there.

A small push threatened the barricade of my tightness. The tension returned but only for a moment. I kept it shoved aside and focused on taking in the tip. I could feel centimeter by centimeter, gauging how far he could go, and when I found the glans stuffed inside me both of us shuddered hard. I covered my mouth as soon as I let out a sharp gasp. The feeling of being stretched burned and tingled and yet I took in the discomfort with a sense of gratitude. This was the farthest we had gotten and even if this was all he could get inside it was better than nothing.

Johnny's hands were trembling as he bruised my hips in the pattern of his fingers. "J-jesus...babe." He sucked in a harsh breath and swallowed hard. Beads of sweat had gathered at his brow and it was almost like he was losing control already. "God you feel so damn good. How are you even taking me?"

I held one of his hands and brought it to my lips, kissing the back of it. "You said it yourself. You saw me practicing on camera but you didn't see what I did when I was alone." I parted my lips then and ushered in two of his fingers, sucking slowly. I circled my tongue around the tips and swallowed all the way down to the knuckle all while perfecting by bedroom eyed gaze at him. His hips snapped as his body trembled, making me wince around his fingers. He had managed to squeeze in more of his cock and even produced some minuscule thrusts that had him looking like he was already prepped to go over the edge.

He gripped harder at my hip to the point where it hurt but I knew it was a sign of pleasure and that's all I wanted to give him. I mewled around his fingers and nudged my legs a little higher to rest by his waist. The adjustment built up pressure in the pit of my stomach and made my overstretched walls clench harder. Johnny groaned deeply and begged me to ease my hold on him but I couldn't. Even when I got used to the new addition of girth I was still suctioned around him. My face flushed as I heard his groans turn into growls. The muscles in his strong arms bulged as his shoulders caved in and an unexpected heat tsunamied into me.

My eyes widened at the revelation that he had cum inside me-the first time I had ever felt the sensation. It was strange and yet because it was Johnny it also felt...cozy in a way. A warm perfection that symbolized him succumbing to everything I had wanted to give him. Though one thing was for sure, I was surprised at how quickly it happened. I let his hand go and instead held onto my tummy that I swore was bulging slightly. Johnny ran a hand over his face and pushed his hair back but as soon as our eyes caught each other his face burned beet red even to the tips of his ears. "Do you...um, do you always cum that fast when you're in someone?" I tried to ask as politely as possible.

He pulled out of me and ran straight to the bathroom, slamming the door harshly. I frowned, realizing that the small comment had hurt his pride but I had to be honest that I wanted more from him. I sat up slowly and felt a rush of cum flow out of me, thicker than I expected. Him pulling out so swiftly left me sore and on wobbly knees yet I walked over to the bathroom, trying to keep my thighs pressed together so I wouldn't make an even bigger mess. "Johnny?" I asked as I knocked on the door.

"Go away." I heard him mumble.

"Johnny, why'd you run? Was it because of what I said? I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"Go. Away."

I huffed and grabbed a hold of the door. I was prepared to force my way through but it wasn't locked at all. I stumbled as I stepped in and saw Johnny sitting on the toilet cover, head between his knees and arms dangling by his feet. "Johnny." I sunk to my knees in front of him. "Look at me, please."

"No." He replied, muffled.

"Johnny." I repeated, sternly this time. "What's wrong?"

"'M embarrassed." He mumbled.

"Embarrassed? How come?"

"I've never cum that fast before. Ever. I feel like a loser."

I pushed his head up gently and sighed. "Guaranteed I did want it to last longer but this was the first time you were able to thrust inside me. Maybe it was because of all that pent up energy from when you couldn't do it before. Orrrrr," I nudged his arm playfully. "I'm just that damn good."

"I don't need your cockiness now." He pouted cutely.

"It's ok, baby, really. We're still finding each other out. This is the first time anyone has cared about not hurting me. I'd take that over some idiot that would barge in any day. Please don't be embarrassed."

"Easy for you to say."

"You think I want to be this tight? Sure it sounds like a whole fantasy but being tiny sucks. I want to get railed until I can't walk but I cry as soon as something big comes near me."

"You didn't cry this time." He pointed out and I perked up instantly.

"Hey, you're right. I didn't. That's progress!" I smiled and gave him a small kiss in an effort to cheer him up a little. "And you know what this means, right?"

Johnny sat back against the toilet tank and let out an exasperated sigh. "What?"

"We can keep practicing." I rose to my feet and straddled his lap. "I know you like practicing."

Finally a twinge appeared at the corner of his mouth. He couldn't resist the thought of more touching, groping, kissing, and grinding. "Well...I guess you're right."

I peered down at his still mostly hard cock as curiously got the best of me. "You came but you're still hard?"

He shrugged. "Sometimes it takes awhile to go down. Sometimes I can squeeze another one out."

I lifted my hips and slowly sunk down on him, catching him by surprise. He jerked suddenly and held onto me tightly. "Re-Rem!"

"Maybe we can work on me taking all of you this time. And making sure you last longer."

"I-its your fault for fuckin' suffocating me!" He said through grit teeth. "Just like you're doing now!"

I wrapped my arms around his neck and grabbed a handful of his hair. "Don't tell me you cant take it, baby."

He licked his lips and fluttered his eyes shut. "You have no idea what you do to me Rem."

"You're wrong." I wiggled down more on his shaft, now about a quarter of the way down before the tingling started again. "I know exactly how you feel because you drive me crazy too. Especially now."

He buried his face in my neck, splattering kisses here and there. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

I giggled and squeezed him tight. "I love you, Johnny."

A silence fell over the room as that was also a first between us. I was afraid he wouldn't reciprocate the sentiment and felt my heart race. Now I was the embarrassed one yet I felt him smile against my collar bone. "Yeah?"

I nodded. "I-is that okay? To say that? I d-dont want to scare you off."

"I'm not going anywhere. Trust me. I love you too." I pursed my lips together to hide a squeal though I was too giddy to even think straight. I almost didn't notice Johnny standing up, myself now in his arms and our bodies remaining connected. "Can I show you how much I love you?"

"Please."

[floralguccistyles]

trigger warning: This chapter mentions sexual harassment. It does not go into detail at all, but be warned

wildflower :: chapter four

...and takes you on a date

I was halfway through a salad when Niall called me.

“Don’t eat anything, I’m taking you out to lunch,” was my only greeting. My hand, positioned halfway between my bowl and my mouth and holding my fork, paused.

“Niall, I’m halfway done with a salad,” I said through a mouthful of lettuce.

“Well, stop eating it and come out to lunch with me. I was gonna stop by that smoothie place you like and grab some for us. And maybe a doughnut too.”

I set my fork down and swallowed my mouthful before answering. “What’s the occasion? Smoothies and doughnuts are celebration foods.”

I tried to remember if there was anything we were celebrating. Our birthdays were the twelfth and thirteenth of September, respectively, and it was only teetering on the end of May. He would have told Lily and me if he was up for a promotion, so I knew it wasn’t anything related to his job. 

“I just want to see my Rosebud. Is that a crime?”

My eyes travelled to the salad I was eating. It was filled with spinach and kale and was definitely healthier for me than a smoothie and a doughnut, but it also looked limp and sad in comparison. “Alright, but only because this salad is making me sad now after the promise of Matilda’s sweets.”

He laughed, the sound sending a little thrill through me. I loved making people laugh, but making Niall laugh was better somehow. His full-bodied laugh made me feel light and happy, like by making him laugh I was doing the world a favor because it meant they got to hear it. 

“Deal. I can be at your place in ten?”

“Sounds good. I’ll be ready.” 

Lily was working most of the day with her coworker for a big case, so I figured Niall was just lonely. He hadn’t been by this morning to drive to work with her, and I felt the absence of him just as much as I felt Lily’s absence. It was funny how Niall had weaved himself into our lives so completely that I felt the loss of him when I didn’t see him for a everyday.

I had managed to shimmy into jeans and a cardigan and fix my mess of tangled hair when I heard Niall’s key in the door. “‘M here, Rose!”

“Hi,” I managed to spit out through the rubber band in my mouth, held with my teeth. I had half my hair up in my hands to try and put in a semi-presentable messy bun. “Almost ready.”

“Matilda’s gonna be happy we’re visiting her,” he said, walking over to me and holding out his hand. With a gentle movement, he took the rubber band from between my teeth and held it for me. “You look nice.”

“I’m not wearing makeup and my hair is atrocious.” I raised a brow at him, reaching out to take the band from him so I could secure my hair. “But thank you. That’s sweet of you.” After my hair was situated, I was able to take him in fully, noticing that he was wearing the pretty blue color I always loved seeing on him. “Hey, you’re wearing the shirt I love.”

His cheeks tinged pink. “Figured I should look nice when you were going to look undoubtedly beautiful.”

“He’s got the compliments flowing today,” I joked, poking his cheek with my index finger. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

The drive to Matilda’s shop was spent listening to Niall’s favorite band at the moment (this week it was a group called Bad Suns) and absentmindedly tapping the little rose charm necklace he still had hanging in his car. He grinned at me every time my finger touched the edge of it, commenting that it was his “good luck charm.” I rolled my eyes, but there was an emotion that swelled up in my chest and threatened to burst out, like a balloon filling and filling until eventually it popped.

“Welcome in, you two! I was hoping you’d come back soon.” Matilda’s shop smelled of freshly baked maple bars when we walked in, and the old woman leaned over the counter. “Fresh. Want one?”

“We’ll take two, please. And two glaze twists.” Niall reached in his pocket to pay for their doughnuts. 

“If you’re buying the doughnuts then I’m buying the smoothies,” I said when he inserted his card into the chip reader. “I feel bad you’re always paying for my stuff.”

“Don’t be. I just got a bonus at work.”

“Look at you, Mr. Moneybags.” Feeling a little nervous to ask, I picked at a loose thread on the edge of my shirt. “How is work? After...you know.”

Something dark crossed his face, and I couldn’t help the sharp shooting of sadness that struck my spine. I wanted to reach out and grab his face in my hands until he smiled again. When Niall smiled, all was right in the world. I shoved my hands in my pockets to resist doing just that, lest I look like a fool in the middle of a doughnut shop.

“He’s off the team and has lost his scholarship to the school. They’re thinking about expulsion. The counselor at the school wants her to press charges, but you know how the security is...they’ll say she needed to report it sooner. It sucks, Rose. It makes me want to put you, Lily, and Violet in a bubble and never let you out.”

“Put some of Matilda’s doughnuts in there and I’d be set,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. The corners of his lips turned up and he wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me in close as if he never wanted to let me go. Lily had done the same when I had first told her about Kent. She had pulled me in close and had walked around with her arm in mine every time we left the house. It made reaching on the top shelf of the grocery store to get my macaroni and cheese hard, but I never complained because it was nice to be taken care of by someone I knew cared about me.

Matilda handed us our doughnuts with a big smile and a forceful “you’d better come back here!” Niall handed me one of the maple bars, the dough still warm in my fingers as we exited the shop and walked across the street to the smoothie place.

Equipped with our doughnuts and smoothies (that I paid for, thank you very much), Niall suggested we walk down the strip of road. There were two antique stores, a little locally owned florist shop, and a travel agency building. I took him into the florist shop first, since I didn’t think the antique stores would let us in with our food and drinks. “What’s your favorite flower?” I asked absentmindedly, touching the petals of a pretty mum flower.

“I’ve never really thought about it. I know your favorites aren’t roses. You used to stick out your tongue at Violet whenever she picked out some for you for your birthdays.”

I laughed. “I liked the rosebuds you got me,” I defended.

“What is the Rosebud’s favorite flower, then?”

I thought about it for a moment, taking a sip of my smoothie. “Tulips. Pink tulips. They make me smile.”

“Then I like them, too. Whatever makes you smile is my favorite flower.”

My heart gave a little flutter. What was going on? I never reacted to Niall this way, in the way I imagined Lily reacted whenever she saw him. Is this what it felt like when she saw him coming to pick her up for their daily lunches? Heart taking off in her chest, stomach dropping with anticipation? I turned to look at pretty white hyacinths to avoid looking at him. I could feel my face heating up with the knowledge that had just presented itself.

I thought Niall was handsome. He was kind and funny and always made me feel safe. And now that I thought about it for more than two seconds...the thought of him with Lily made my skin crawl, like it was something that should never happen.

“I see sunflowers!” I shouted, startling him. I needed a distraction, something to take my mind off these new thoughts swirling around in my head. Bolting towards them, I managed to put some distance between us. 

As long as I put distance between us, I could take a moment to clear my head.

Fancying Niall was, for lack of a better word, stupid. He was destined to be with Lily. He loved Lily. And Lily loved him. Even though they hadn’t realized it yet (or at least, hadn’t admitted it to themselves yet), this was a fact. It was like saying that humans needed air to live and the grass was green. It was an inevitability. The sun would rise in the morning, set in the evening, and Niall Horan and Lily Fairbrough were meant to be together.

“Rosebud? You ready to go to the antique shop?” Niall appeared by my side, and I couldn’t help it. 

I screeched.

It wasn’t loud enough to embarrass myself totally, but it was enough for Niall to grin and start laughing, bending over at the waist. I wanted to beg him to stop laughing, not because I didn’t want him to laugh at me, but because his eyes became more blue and his laugh sent a fluttery feeling through me. “Jesus, didn’t know I would scare you, Rosebud.”

“I’m fine,” I stammered out. I then noticed he had disposed of our doughnut bag (because we had eaten them in less than a minute) and was holding something in his hand. When I processed what they were, I felt lightheaded. “Did...did you get me pink tulips?”

“Sure did. I’ll hold them while we hit the antique shops, if you want. You done with your smoothie?”

Okay, so I had three options.

Option one, I could act on these weird new feelings. I could randomly just step up to him right now and ask to kiss him (because obviously, I wasn’t going to kiss him without his consent). If he said no, which he would, I would back up and tell myself that he didn’t want me. Even though I already knew he didn’t want me, I would let this new knowledge wash over me until my little crush on him shriveled up and died.

Option two, I could wait it out. These feelings obviously couldn’t last forever, right? I knew he was Lily’s. Shouldn’t the knowledge of that make my heart turn away the thought of being with Niall? Surely I just had to wait for these feelings to go away. How long could they last, really?

Option three, I could beg Lily to finally confess her feelings to him, and beg Niall to finally make a move on her. Seeing them together and so in love would make these feelings disappear in an instant. My eyes and brain would go, “see, they belong together” and tell my heart to shut the fuck up.

“Y-yeah,” I said, stumbling over my words and I handed him my smoothie cup. 

He smiled and took it, tossing it in the nearest trash can before gesturing his head towards the door. “C’mon, then, you numpty. What’re you just standing around for?”

I was helpless to him as we walked to the first antique store. I had gone shopping here when I had first moved into my apartment. I was pretty sure I had a couple of old records and a couple of accent photos that I had gotten here. Niall immediately hitched a right and went to the furniture, looking through ugly but fun velvet yellow couches and creepy looking porcelain dolls. “Let’s play a game,” he suggested.

“Please don’t say that while you’re standing next to a doll that looks creepier than Jigsaw.”

He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Let’s look around and pick out something for one another. Meet back here when we’re done?”

I wondered if he knew how much I loved things like this. I liked going to locally owned shops and seeing what people’s imaginations had come up with. Even if I wasn’t particularly interested in what they were selling, the business and marketing major in me could appreciate when someone was passionate about what they were selling. In fact, this was a perfect date for me.

Which, naturally, made me want to hyperventilate. I had just discovered these pesky feelings for Niall and he was already unknowingly taking me on my version of a perfect date? Still, I had a hard time saying no to Niall. I agreed to his little game and watched in amusement as he shot off to the right, headed towards the section of the antique store that sold glass figurines. I decided to start with the basement level, figuring they might have some old magazines about sports teams. However, my mind wasn’t into this like I would have been on any other day.

Even Niamh and Patrick believed Niall was going to end up with Lily.

But there was one person who hadn’t.

Making sure no one was around, I pulled out my phone. Luckily, my sister was glued to her cell and she picked up on the second ring.

“Hello? Why are you calling me?”

“Nice to hear from you too. About the Niall and Lily bet—”

“Christ, I thought you had something important to tell me.”

“This is important!” I hissed out, making a poor old woman who was browsing some records jump. I sent her an apologetic look before continuing my conversation with Violet. “Why did you bet that they weren’t gonna end up together?”

“Why?”

“Because I want to know.” Shouldn’t that be answer enough?

I heard her let out an annoyed sigh on the other end of the line. “I don’t know, Rose. It’s obvious he doesn’t fancy her. They’re just...friendly.”

“But can you give me a specific example?”

She was quiet for a moment. And then she said, “Has Niall said something to you?”

“What? No.”

“Of course not. Not sure why I thought differently. Anyway, this is a pointless conversation and I’m trying to study for biology. Can you have an existential crisis later?”

“You’re a twit.”

“Whatever. Bye.” 

I was met with the dial tone and I cursed Violet, shoving my phone back into my pocket. What did she mean, asking me if Niall had told me something? Were he and Lily together? I’d like to think he would have told me if they were dating, and if he hadn’t, Lily definitely would have. And then there was that night when we were talking about the girl he liked. It described Lily perfectly. 

I halfheartedly searched through the old books and magazines until I found a cool baseball book that discussed Jackie Robinson and had a fun looking baseball card taped to the inside cover. He could put it on that empty space on his shelf in his office. I hooked it underneath my arm and meandered back to where Niall and I had agreed to meet.

He was standing there already, waiting happily with my tulips in his hand. When I made it back to his side, I couldn’t help but smile even though my heart felt like it might collapse. “You’re already done?” I asked. I had expected him to take longer than I had.

“I am. You first.”

I handed him the book. “I saw that empty spot on your shelves in your office when I was there and thought this might fit pretty well there.” 

He smiled. “Thanks, Rosebud. It’s perfect.”

His object was a golden desk nameplate, with the words “Best Manager Ever” scrawled in decorative script in dark black calligraphy. I raised an eyebrow, but took the nameplate from his hands. “Thanks, Ni.”

“You’re sweet for pretending you know what it is. They obviously didn’t have one that said marketing team member, so manager was the best I could get.”

I laughed. “Thanks, but marketing team member would have been false, too. You should have found one that said receptionist.”

“That’s actually why I brought you out for lunch today. Remember that meeting I had with that athlete? The one who wants to create an eco-friendly line of equipment and uniforms?”

“Yeah! It sounded really cool. Did it go well?”

“It went fantastically. So fantastic, in fact, that he was offered a start-up donation and needs a good marketing team to spread word about the products when they’re out. And...I maybe told him that I had an amazing friend who was aces at marketing. If you want it, you’ve got a job.” He must have seen the stunned look on my face, so he continued in a rush. “You can finally quit the hotel and do what you love again, Rose. I know you’re great at it. You would be amazing. I know it may not be the exact business you want to work with, but it’s a good alternative for now, yeah?”

I was so shocked that I barely registered the door opening behind me, the little bell above it letting out a tinkling sound. We were standing in the middle of the walkway, so I looked at the patron to apologize.

The words died in my throat.

“Rose Fairbrough.” Kent Tanner had not changed in the year since I’d seen him. In any nightmares or late-night fears, I had imagined him looking more threatening and scary. But he was still just an average looking man, with his straight brown hair and dimpled-chin. He had maybe put on a pound or two, but not enough to make much of a difference in his stature. “Nice to see you.”

My throat went dry. Niall knew Kent as the guy who had fired me from Barkley’s, so he narrowed his eyes in Kent’s direction. If he knew the whole truth, he would probably have Kent bleeding on the ground in five seconds. 

“How’ve you been?” Kent asked, leaning against a bookstand next to him. It was incredibly arrogant and entitled and screamed Kent. “Where are you working now? Barkley’s sure does miss you.”

He reached out to put his hand on my shoulder in what I’m sure was a friendly pat, but I flinched away and moved closer to Niall. I felt Niall’s welcome embrace around my waist, pulling me into his side and looking down at me to make sure I was okay. “It doesn’t matter where I’m working,” I said, wanting my words to sound fierce and powerful, but all they did was shake and stumble.

“Well, if you ever want a job at Barkley’s again, let me know. We miss you, Rose.”

I heard the implied words. If I wanted a job at Barkley’s again, his proposition was still open. It made me shudder even closer to Niall. “I’m fine, Kent. Excuse me.”

Quickly placing Niall’s nameplate for me on the bookshelf, I rushed out of the antique store. The air outside seemed to clear my mind a little, sending waves of cool to my overheated body. The wind felt nice against my arms, like Mother Nature was doing her best to tell me that she supported me. 

“Are you okay, Rose?” Niall asked in a worried voice, but I would have known he was concerned just because he hadn’t called me Rosebud. “What a dick. He’s such a pompous arse.” 

It all came crashing down when Niall reached out to rub my arm comfortingly. Still surprised and taken off guard by Kent, I winced and moved away. Niall’s eyes widened in surprise, and I knew why. I had never shrugged off a touch from Niall before. “Sorry,” I immediately said, my voice coming out rougher and more emotional than I’d wanted it to. “Sorry,” I repeated.

“That’s not a normal reaction to someone who fired you, Rose. What happened with that guy?” His voice was soft, but firm. I knew that we wouldn’t be leaving here without me telling him what truly happened with Kent. Either that, or I could continue the lie and have Niall never trust me again. And that simply wasn’t an option. Crush or not, I couldn’t deal with myself if Niall decided I wasn’t someone he could confide in.

“Can we walk and talk?” I asked gently, wanting to put as much distance between Kent and I as possible.

“‘Course, Rose. C’mon.” He was careful to not wrap his arm around me like he normally would, and it brought tears to my eyes. While I wanted his touch, I appreciated that he understood I couldn’t handle it just yet.

The farther and farther away we got from the antique store and Kent, the easier it felt to breathe. But it was hard to talk through the lump in my throat as I explained to Niall why I had really lost my job at Barkley’s. I was careful not to focus on him, but I knew his hands were curling into fists and his brow was furrowed in frustration. 

“That’s why Violet and I were arguing in the kitchen at our last movie night. She thinks I should go to her school psychiatrist.”

“I think so, too.”

“I don’t want to go to a psychiatrist,” I said helplessly, wanting Niall to see things my way. “If I go to a psychiatrist, that means I’m not...normal Rose anymore. Besides, I know it could have been a lot worse than it was.”

“That doesn’t matter, Rose!”

I had never heard Niall yell at me in frustration before. I had heard him yelling across the bar to me when he was blackout drunk, I had heard him yelling at me from down the hallway to come look at something on his laptop, but I had never heard the tone he was using with me now. I stepped back in surprise, nearly tripping over myself.

“Knowing that he did that to you...that absolute piece of shit. I don’t care if he didn’t touch you, Rose, it’s still despicable and is gonna leave insecurities and shit that you can’t physically see, but you’ll carry around with you. And I think instead of letting it fester, you should have someone clinical talk to you about it. Someone who you aren’t personal with.”

“Well, thanks for your opinion on how I should handle my own sexual harassment, but I’m going to handle it my way.” I stubbornly crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him. “God, you’re being just as bad as Violet. I didn’t tell you about Kent because I wanted your advice, Niall. I just needed someone to listen.”

“You’re right, I shouldn’t tell you how to handle it. That’s not right of me, and I’ll apologize for it. But Rose, can’t you see that Violet, Lily, and I are trying to get you to do this because we care about you? I mean Christ, you...you don’t even know.”

“I know how much you guys care about me. I appreciate it.” Reaching forward, I squeezed his arm with my hand. “And I love you so much for it, Ni. But let me handle things my way, okay?”

“But will you? Will you handle it? Can you at least call Violet’s psychiatrist?”

Hindsight is a funny thing. If I had known how this conversation was going to go down, I might have changed things. I might have tried to de-escalate things. But suddenly I was getting annoyed with him again, and in my frustration I didn’t act the way I should have when he told me what he had.

“Jesus, Niall, stop it. Stop trying to play the hero. I’m fine.”

“Don’t tell me you’re fine, Rose. You have to sleep in the same room as someone because you’re terrified of sleeping alone. You turned into a mess when he walked into the store, and sometimes you flinch away when I pat your shoulder or Patrick tries to hug you.”

Hearing the things that were wrong with me, the things that made me a burden, hurt. Hearing them from Niall made it ten times worse. Hearing them from Niall when I had recently discovered these pesky little feelings for him made it a hundred times worse. So, I did what I always did. I pushed. “You aren’t my boyfriend, Niall. Stop acting like it.”

I wished I could take back the words as soon as they left my mouth. He looked absolutely defeated, like I had just crumbled him into a paper ball and put him through a shredder. “No, I’m not your boyfriend, Rose. I’m just someone who has been in love with you for over ten years. But I forgot. God forbid someone actually gives a shit about you.”

And then he was gone, shoving cab money into my hand to pay for my way home before he disappeared. He wasn’t walking back in the direction of his car, so I could only assume he was walking to clear his head. I found the idea as appealing as he did, but I couldn’t move.

I’m just someone who has been in love with you for over ten years.

The only thought my brain could come up with was, what?

I might have called an Uber, but I don’t remember it. My brain was on autopilot, going through the motions of getting back to Lily’s apartment. All I knew was that I had, somehow, hurt Niall so much more than I’d realized. And I’d never wanted to hurt Niall. 

“Hey,” Lily said when I walked into the apartment. She was sitting on the couch in her comfy clothes, so she had to have been home from work for at least an hour. She had a ritual. “Niall told me you were coming home. He asked me to text him that you made it home safe.” Her voice was cautious, and I wondered how much of our argument Niall had talked to her about.

“Did you know?” I asked helplessly.

For once, Lily didn’t have all the answers. Or, at least, she didn’t have the answer I wanted to hear. Her lips clamped shut and she nodded slowly. “He’s...he’s been in love with you for a long time, Rose.”

“And no one told me?” I mumbled, feeling like my entire body was going to crack open and sink into the floor.

“Rose...you push people away when they love you. Mom, Dad, Violet, even Pat and Niamh. The only one you haven’t pushed away is me, and sometimes I still feel like eventually you will. You tell me everything that happens to you, but you never tell me what you’re feeling. You only let people see the surface of you, Rose.”

It was my fault. That’s what she was saying. It was my fault that no one really knew me. I was too hard to open up, too slow to be vulnerable. 

“How about you come and we watch a movie?” Lily asked, worrying her lower lip. “You look like you need some rest.”

“I do,” I agreed halfheartedly. “But not here.”

And then I turned out of Lily’s apartment and got in my car.

I turned through the familiar winding streets, past the park, past the record store. There was a parking space right in front, like it was fate that I would be there. I put my car into park and made my way up the front steps, pushing my key into the lock.

The lights in my apartment were off, but I didn’t bother turning them on. I just made my way over to my bed, the bed I hadn’t slept in for over a year, and sunk into the mattress.

I didn’t sleep one bit.

[zordonmlw7]

Plaguetober Day 2 - Protect 🛡

The dim glow of the campfire illuminated Sir Alfharis as he tried to warm himself in the cool fall night.  He’d cloak himself in his cape, but it was currently being used by one little girl curled up, leaning against him. 

“Run!”

His voice still haunted him.  Memories of how the two got here flashed in his mind briefly. He wasn’t ready to relive them. He figured he should at least think of a plan of what to do with her.  

He glanced at her face. It was peaceful. Was she truly at peace? He found that hard to imagine.  But if peace was still a hope for her, he begged with every ounce of his being that she could find it.

SNAP.

His train of thought interrupted, he instantly went on high alert.  Not another threat.  Not today. Had they not suffered enough? Was a lifetime a pain condensed to a single arc of the sun not ENOUGH?

Alfharis unclasped his cape and stood slowly, not wanting to disturb the girl’s sleep.  He unsheathed his blade and took on a defensive stance.  It was probably safer to run, but he was exhausted. His sword wavered in his unsteady hands.  He’d sooner die protecting her sleep than risk waking her up to find another thing wanting her dead.  

The creature that threatened them soon grew close enough for its eyes to shine in the dark. Alfharis recognized them immediately.  He had fought them many a time before. Never alone, though.  Always with his band.  

Thoughts of his compatriots brought him to tears. Captain Gawain.  Lady Primrose.  Sir Peter.  His name stung the most, tugging at his fast beating heart.  

The beast stepped forward.  It was definitely a big one.  Perhaps the goodbyes he had bid his siblings-in-arms when he left the ransacked village was premature.  Faced with an opponent this menacing, it was apparent that he would be joining them soon enough.

Still… there was her.  She deserved a better fate than dinner for an ungrateful beast.  He charged the beast, trying to plunge his blade into its chest.  He managed to penetrate its thick pelt, but was knocked by a powerful swipe from its claws before he could even break bone.

Alfharis knew he couldn’t let the creature notice her.  He immediately slashed at its flanks from the floor.  The beast let out a low growl and tried to bite his thigh.  Though pinched by the pressure, his armor protected him from having his flesh torn. With what might he could muster, he jerked his leg out of the beast’s mouth and rolled a bit away from the campfire. 

Again trying to keep the creature’s focus on him, he slashed at its tail, near the base.  He must have got a good shot in, because the creature let out a wretched yell.  The tail swiped at him in retaliation, but the creature was clearly in too much pain from the wound to do any real damage. 

Alfharis took the opportunity to raise himself onto a knee and then slashed at the tail again, this time closer to its end. This managed to successfully provoke the creature, as it finally turned around to face him properly.

“Good luck, kid.” Alfharis thought before bolting into the darkness.  He frantically looked behind him, hoping that his plan had succeeded and the creature was following him, away from the campfire and the young girl it was meant to protect.  Two glimmering eyes, harder to make out in the darkness, followed him.  

As he ran, he tripped over a root.  The ensuing tumble robbed him of his last wind.  

“Darn…” he thought.  He had hoped to put up more of a fight for his grand finale.  But in this state, he could barely move.  He was too sore.  All he could hope for now was for the creature to quickly finish him off by biting his neck like an efficient predator.  They were not exactly creatures of efficiency though.  Quite the opposite, in fact.  They had a reputation across the continent as vicious killers who made a bloodbath of their victims.  They adored playing with their dinner.  But maybe Alfharis would get a miracle.

And a miracle he received.

From the darkness, a burst of flames blasted the creature.  Though the flames gave off little light, they burned bright enough for Alfharis to make out a masked figure.  It seemed to be holding an apparatus.  After the first burst of flames faded, he heard a foot step forward followed by the sight of a second burst of flames.  The creature fell to the ground and the masked figure continued to bathe it in fire with its apparatus.

Alfharis let out a long sigh of relief.  He heard the figure swiftly shift its stance in response. 

“Thank you…” Alfharis spoke slowly.  Truly, he had no way of knowing if the masked figure meant to save him.  Nevertheless, he felt it was safer than letting the figure think him a threat.

The figure stood quietly before finally speaking.  “Do you need help?” It had a soft voice that seemed to echo a bit.  It reverberated like when one speaks into a mason jar.  

“Admittedly, I do,” he responded earnestly.  

He heard the rustle of footsteps and shuffling and managed to find the figure���s hand, reaching for him in the dark.  With its help, he was pulled up to his feet.

“I’m looking for someone,” the creature informed him.

“I… see?” Alfharis said.  It seemed his gratitude was being cashed out immediately.

“A little girl.  Have you seen one?”

“I… have.” Alfharis worried about what the figure’s intentions were for the girl, but also feared the consequences of lying to someone holding an apparatus capable of shooting fire. “Why do you seek her?”

“She is my daughter,” the figure said.

Daughter? He had thought the girl was the only survivor of the raid.  Well… not counting Alfharis himself.  Perhaps some had managed to escape?

“Where is she?” the figure asked.

“She’s just over here.” Alfharis led the figure to the campfire where the little girl continued to sleep, despite all the noises made during the battle.  Even now, he hesitated to wake her, but if this was truly her mother, then she deserved to be reunited with her.

As the two walked into the ring of light created by the dying fire, he was able to make out more of the figure.  The creature wore a black suit which, when coupled with its mask, covered every inch of skin.  What stood out however, was the figure’s brilliant cornblue hair sticking out from the back of its mask.  As Alfharis mused over the unusual color, the figure removed its mask, revealing more unusual features: periwinkle skin, spiked ears, and glassy eyes with dark blue sclera lacking any iris or pupils.  

“A fae?” Alfharis said aloud.

“A changeling,” it corrected him.  “Just like her.”

Alfharis looked back at the girl.  Black hair. Dull ears. Olive skin.  She certainly looked nothing like the changeling in the black suit before him.

“We changelings do not raise our young.  We leave them among the mortals to be raised by parents whose children died in the womb.  Normally, it would not be time to collect her.  However, without her caretakers, she would surely die.  So, I must take her back with me to the realm of the fae.”

“What awaits her in the realm of the fae?”

“She will be my plaything, as all my children are. Admittedly, I’m not sure how exciting she will be to play with when she is still not ripe.  However, she may surprise me! We shall have to see.”

“A… plaything? She’s a child.  Do you truly see her as only a toy?” With those words, Alfharis began to reach for his sword.

“Well not only a toy.  Sometimes, I like my children enough to stay friends with them even after moving on to a new child to play with.  After all, those who I don’t befriend usually try to kill me.  It’s the only way to inherit in the faerie court, you see. And so, I usually have to kill them first.  If another opportunistic offspring doesn’t beat me to it.  The blood game can be its own kind of fun, after all! 

But it is so dreadfully peaceful at the moment.  I could not bare it any longer.  It’s why I don’t just wait to see if she manages to survive on her own a bit before fetching her.  Or just have another kid and wait for it to grow up.  After all, they only take 28 years to ripen.”

Alfharis did not know what to do with any of this information.  All he knew was he could not allow this young girl to fall into the changeling’s hands.

“Please… she’s only a child.  You cannot subject her to that,” he pleaded.

“Really now? Are you trying to ransom a child off to a fae?” The changeling rolled its eyes before digging in its pockets and pulling out a sack of coins that she tossed at Alfharis. “Here.  This should be enough human gold to appease you.” 

Alfharis eyed the pouch with suspicion.  But upon inspection, it contained 12 gold pieces.  That would be enough to keep Alfharis set for years, if not the rest of his life.

“I cannot accept this,” he said.

“More? Ugh, you humans are stingy.  I can’t imagine you would have gotten more from selling her, but nevertheless…” The changeling pulled out another sack before Alfharis stopped her.

“No.  I cannot accept this because you cannot take her.  She just lost the only family she ever knew.  The home she grew up in.  An entire village of culture and tradition.  She deserves a chance to mourn the life she knew before being thrust into one of entertaining an immortal and risking being killed by a sibling looking to claim their inheritance.”

“You mortals are so dramatic. Look, if you thought the carnage at that village was tough, just wait until you see me when I’m bored.  Don’t you wonder why immortals reproduce? It’s not because we’re worried about the death of our species.  We are so well established, we could never have another child again, and I’m sure we’d still outlive existence itself.  The reason we reproduce is to witness the amusement that is life! Now.  I am returning home with a companion.  Hand her over.”

“...A companion you say? That is all you seek?”

“Yes! Have you humans changed language again so much so that you don’t understand me?”

“Does the companion need to be her?”

“Huh? An interesting question.  No, not really. An animal certainly won’t do, though.  I tried them eons ago and they stop being interesting after only a few weeks.  I need an intelligent creature.  Which I’m hoping she’ll grow into soon enough.”

Alfharis got on one knee. “May you take me in her stead,” he said.

“Oh? Fascinating.  You are aware that a mortal who chooses to reside in the fae realm is condemned to it forever, right?”

“Please.  I have nothing left in this world.” He once again thought of Sir Peter, who sacrificed himself to the onslaught of raiders so that Alfharis and the girl could escape. “Saving her… her whole village, really.  It should be my last mission.  And even if I failed the rest… If I can protect her, then perhaps our efforts won’t have been for nothing.”

“Yes, yes… So you are fine being my plaything?” It clasped his face with its gloved hand.

“Yes… I ask just one thing.”

“What is that?”

“I will not leave her side without a guarantee of her safety.”

“Well that much is easy!” the changeling exclaimed.  Crouching over her, it patted her head, causing her to shimmer slightly, all without disturbing her sleep. “A charm! It will protect her from all bodily harm.”

That easy? Could the fae have blessed the villagers, preventing this tragedy? Were his compatriots slain for nothing? Alfharis refused to dwell on this line of thought.  Alfharis took from his satchel a quill and parchment and left a note for the girl telling her of an inn she could stay at.  If she showed the owners the crest on his helmet, which he proceeded to remove and place over the note, he was sure they would let her stay. He stuffed the satchel with the packs of gold given to him by the changeling and with that, his preparations were complete.

“Alright, I’m ready.” And with his signal, the changeling led him away, to the world of the fae.

[calpops]

falling facade | c.h.

part six: falling feelings

part one: falling flowers | part two: falling freedom | part three: falling fears | part four: falling failures | part five: falling fame

5k words

Copyright © 2020 calpops. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format (translations included).

<< >>

“What’s this?”

Calum’s attention swiftly turned from cleaning his house and getting it ready for his parents arrival to Arden. She stood in the kitchen, facing the fridge with a timid hand outreached to the door. He knew exactly what caught her attention and prompted the question. He bit back a smirk as he left the throw blanket he was folding in favor of sidling up to her, hip pressing into the cabinets and a nonchalant hand finding the cool marble of the countertops. Her fingers lingered on familiar paper and she turned to face him with a raised eyebrow.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten your own work,” Calum teased and let his smirk come back full force.

She let out a small giggle through her interrogation and shook her head. “Okay wise guy. Why is it on display on your fridge door?”

The paper placemat Arden had quickly drawn Calum in in red crayon and sharp lines laid under a magnet on the face of his fridge. He had fished it out of his wallet the night before, not having forgotten it in the folds but keeping it around in an attempt to remind himself of what was real. Their time at the diner was the first of many escapes. It was a comfort to know something honest and authentic stayed with him when he was forced to lie through his teeth; to fabricate stories during interviews, to pose for social media and paparazzi. It was of him and drawn by her in a moment that no one else got to share. It was theirs and theirs alone.

“Because I’m still waiting for a painting to put on the wall. I thought that’d be a good place holder and reminder,” he said and shot a pointed look at the blank living room wall; the empty space above the fireplace begging for life of lively colors and loose waves created by Arden’s hands. It was front and center. A place Calum would be able to see it from almost any position in the living area of his home. He continued in a teasing tone, “you should really get to it.”

Their conversation on the beach about the Clifford house hallway once being lined with Arden’s art only to be replaced by band accolades hadn’t escaped Calum. His request of a painting reminiscent of sunset on the beach wouldn’t go forgotten or be replaced. Arden nodded, the motion was slow and her gaze was indecisive, fingers abandoning the placemat to curl at her sides. A forced shrug lifted her shoulders.

“You know painting is just a hobby for me, right? They’re nothing special,” she said, her voice became meek and her eyes averted his gaze.

Calum was picking up on subtle queues. Her usual ability to hold eye contact faltered when anything about her life was in question. The strength of her words felt weak and weary as if there was a weight crushing her; taking away her usual eloquent articulation and animation. Calum eyed her for a moment, took a peek at the drawing on the fridge and turned back to her.

“Just a hobby,” he replied to the first half of her statement. “That you enjoy and are really good at.”

She smirked, finally looked directly at him once more and raised an eyebrow in challenge. “I also enjoy dancing while I clean and singing in the shower but I assure you I have no rhythm and am not the Clifford sibling blessed with vocal abilities. Sometimes we just do things; whether we’re good at them or not.”  

Calum didn’t know if he had the ability to challenge her further, to push her and make the strength in her voice falter again. So he changed the subject and took her mind away from replaced paintings and feelings of inadequacy and back to lighthearted teasing tones that lifted weight off the reality they were living. Just like moments in the car where their situation became a joke, Calum changed gears in hopes it would make her smile and quip back at him.

“So you won’t be singing at our wedding then,” he said with an over dramatic sigh and side eye; found that his plan rewarded him with a smile and a laugh.

“No, I’ll save that for you,” she replied and twisted the ring that Calum was becoming accustomed to seeing on her finger. The diamond was still much too gaudy and unlike her but it felt familiar and Calum was unable to picture her without it. “If you’re lucky maybe I’ll show you my dancing on our honeymoon.”

Now Calum’s cheeks were warm and tinting with a blush that spoke of the implications her words held; watched as she skipped away from him with a sarcastic laugh following her to the living room where she finished folding the abandoned throw blanket. Calum didn’t have a comeback or rebuttal though his thoughts were filled and alarm bells tried their best to ring through the haze. He shook himself, tried to blow those thoughts away and nearly jumped at the sudden knock on the door. For a moment he feared it was their parents arriving early, interrupting their plan to work out what details they would and would not share with them during their suspected inquisition. But he rationalized and realized it was Michael, he was to arrive early to be in on the details. He wasn’t sure if Michael’s arrival was better or worse.  

***

Calum’s arm found its way around Arden’s shoulder in an all too natural sense. It fit a little too perfectly, was a little too easy and normal. Eyes were on them, parents and siblings; eyes that questioned and eyes that knew but had inklings of wonder clouding them. Michael had agreed to keep up the charade though he made a point that he wouldn’t like it and they both owed him big time. Calum’s arm around Arden was all part of the act but Calum could tell Michael was pondering why it was so easy for them to pull off. He could also see the doubt in his sister’s frown and hoped the panic wasn’t so clearly written on his face. He knew he wasn’t standing with his usual confidence, posture a bit slumped and weight bearing into the cabinet behind him. But Arden eased into his side and loosely held his hand; helped to settle the nerves that simmered and sparked with their families arrival.

“What’s this?” His sister Mali asked, repeating Arden’s earlier words verbatim, touching the same place mat secured to the fridge in the same exact way.

A small grin captured the corners of Calum’s mouth. There were a lot of things he felt he wasn’t prepared to answer or could have thought out more, but Arden’s art wasn’t among them. He knew exactly what to say.

“Arden drew it. On our first date,” he offered and felt the shift of Arden moving to look up at him.

“First date?” She wondered aloud, eyes meeting and holding gazes as she arched her eyebrow in question and amusement.

“At the diner,” Calum began and blew out a breath, hand gliding down her arm as he got lost in the role; caught up in a new game where control really did land in their own hands. He offered truths veiled with something more and something less. He shifted his gaze back to Mali who was eyeing them both; sizing them and their story up. “She told me to sit still and hid it from me until it was done. I’m keeping it up until she gives me a real painting.”

Mali nodded but her eyes squinted and lips pursed for a moment. She took a few seconds to accept the truth and offer a smile before wandering off in search of Duke; past their parents congregated in the dining area. Calum let out a deep breath, all the nerves that felt on the edge of exploding calmed at his sister’s acceptance. Neither Calum or Arden moved from their position, his arm still held her close and her hand didn’t drop from its hold. If asked by Michael later it would be out of necessity. If Calum was honest with himself it’d be a source of comfort.

“Here I thought our first date was the wedding,” Arden whispered, nose twitching as she blushed a timid pink. She stayed quiet so no one else could hear her words but her eyes were wide and told Calum truths no one else would understand. “Your way we got engaged before we even started dating.”

She let out a small giggle and the sound was enough to collide with Calum’s nerves and make the slight alteration of the truth come to life and feel real. Maybe their first date was the wedding, maybe it was an escape in a run down diner, maybe it was a night under the stars during a dying party where inhibitions roamed free. Maybe they hadn’t been on a date at all. What Calum knew was whether the scenarios were real or fake there was something building within him that he couldn’t control or deny.

“We didn’t need to date before we got engaged,” Calum whispered back, eyes averting to the dining room for a split second to ensure their privacy. Their parents still lingered and made small talk; Michael did his best to act as the host. “It was love at first sight, right?”

Arden shook her head, tendrils of hair fell into her face that Calum felt comfortable enough to push back behind her ear this time. She bit her lip and pushed away from the counter their backs were pressed against; Calum worrying for a moment she was also pushing away from him, but she stayed under his arm and her hand firmly held his.

“I’ve known you most my life. I don’t think we fell in love when we were six.”

“Love at second first sight then,” he amended with a laugh; wondering if there might be some validity to that statement.

During their time in the face of the facade Calum often found himself thinking of the first night he had seen Arden again. The house party was ingrained in his memory and the subtleties of her under moonlight stayed with him in vivid flashes and familiar words. He hadn’t known it upon second first sight, not in that split second when their eyes met across the yard and she offered a recognized head nod, but it started to become apparent with backs pressed to the siding, drinks gone empty and pouty lips begging for a favor.

Calum let Arden lead him into the dining area where they were met with an unexpected outcome. Mali’s slight doubt and questioning was drowned out by the belief of their parents. The stories they fed them seemed to win them over; made them excited at the prospect of their children finding each other and falling in love. Though it was quick and unprecedented—with phone calls and circumstances that felt nothing short of suspicious—their parents were blinded by what they assumed was their children’s happiness. Happy. Proud. Excited. All of those words floated around them in a barrage of parental chatter. Calum felt the shift in Arden before he saw it; the way she stiffened against his side, her hold loosening on his hand and the shift of weight from one foot to the other and back again in a rhythmic sway of uncertainty. He wondered if it was anxiety, if the situation wasn’t okay, if there was underlying guilt brimming to the surface.

They made it through dinner, most of the time was spent in a haze that passed over Calum’s thoughts as he drifted from checking the rigid posture that captured Arden and the beaming smiles that their parents graced them with. Every intone of excitement, every near teary eyed admission of pride and pitch of happiness in their voices had Arden lurching. It was minimal and went past the others but Calum caught the subtleties; the slight twitch of her arm or the purse of her lips, the downcast gazes of shiny eyes. His own nerves had calmed but he worried for Arden. It was her want to keep up the charade but he had to wonder if her mind was changing and what that meant for the rest of the visit.

It wasn’t until after dinner when the dishes were done and everyone had split up into smaller groups that Calum sensed something was completely amiss. Arden was in the living room with Mali and her mom—he’d heard her voice just moments ago—but when he rounded the corner she was gone. Before he could ask, before he could even form the thought to ask, Mali was answering for him.

“She took Duke out,” Mali said as she stood and gestured to the sliding glass doors that lead to the backyard. Calum was quick to head over but his sister stopped him short with a low murmur and hand on his wrist. “I know management has a hand in this.”

Calum knew his surprise showed; jaw slackening and an air of disbelief leaving him at the unexpected cornering. Mali could read Calum like a book and they’d never been ones to keep secrets. She was a bit more comfortable reaching and pushing for answers than Calum was but knew when to let up. Her touch fell and she nodded out the door.

“But I know you’re doing what you think is best.”

Calum swallowed down a lump in his throat and exited the house with Mali’s parting words ringing through his mind. The yard was empty, the sun was setting low on the horizon and casting glimmering specks of light against the water in the pool. It reminded him of the sunset dancing along the beach. Of Arden in the water and his towel. Of moments that were too real to be part of the farce. She was nowhere in sight and the usual jingle of the tags on Duke's collar couldn’t be heard. He figured she must have gone to the front yard or up the street to give the old dog a good stretch and walk after dinner. He rounded the side of the house and stopped short. She sat in a familiar position; back pressed to the siding and face turned to the sky. Duke was settled in her lap and nosing his concern into her stomach. Her hands slowly pet him and Calum came to see the glint of a fallen tear tracking down her cheek.

“Arden,” he said her name softly, his own worries etched into his voice. He didn’t want to startle her but she turned to him quickly and wiped at the tear, tried to pretend it wasn’t there or that he hadn’t seen it. She was making to get up but Calum settled down beside her and she stilled. “What’s going on?”

She sighed and he heard the brokenness of her breath. The fracture between the inhale and exhale. “Pretending is just a lot harder than I thought.”

Calum’s chest tightened and his fingers curled into his palms at her response. Her voice was shaky and her hazel eyes were distant. He didn’t understand what she meant. It all seemed to be going well—their parents weren’t as probing as they thought they’d be, they weren’t disappointed in their rash decision or the way they painted the engagement; with glints of the truth and softened edges of drunken escapades.

“Why? They’re all okay with it. Happy even,” Calum offered in an attempt to soothe whatever was bothering her.

Pretending for their parents had been her idea; a request so as not to disappoint her parents with a drunken story and fake relationship. They curated pieces of the truth together and kept to their guns. It was working. But she was cracking and Calum didn’t know why.

“Did you hear them?” She asked and shook her head as Duke nuzzled in even closer, feeling her distress and wanting to offer comfort as well. “They said they’re happy… and proud. The only thing they can be proud of me for is something that’s not even real.”

Calum blanched at that statement. He felt the wind knock out of him and suddenly all the subtleties of Arden at the table began to make sense. It was his turn to shake his head, not able to grasp why she would feel that way. But the shine of her eyes and the bite of her lip spoke volumes of the sorrows she was feeling.

“They didn’t say that’s all they have to be proud of,” Calum reasoned, knowing her parents and the love and pride they had for both of their children and all of their accomplishments.

“I know,” she seemingly agreed and let out another breath. “But they didn’t say they were proud of anything else. Because there’s nothing else.”

“That’s not true,” Calum denied and knew he shouldn’t tell her her feelings were wrong or invalid but they sounded like intrusive thoughts and self doubt; something he’d struggled with himself and would’ve liked to have someone to put them into a new perspective. “You went to university, you travelled, made amazing art—there’s plenty more than us for them to be proud of.”

Arden didn’t say anything for a moment, content to take comfort in the affection Duke was showing her. Calum saw the wavering of her jaw and contemplation cut across her face. She took another few seconds to pull her thoughts together before turning to look him full on, familiar eye contact bringing her fully back to him. He preferred when their gazes didn’t break—liked the strength he could find in hazel even when the subject was delicate and breakable.

“Michael never told you why I really came to visit, did he?” She inquired and Calum realized he hadn’t even asked.

He was too caught up in getting to know her and playing the game that he forgot it all started with a visit. He forgot she had been dodgy in answering that first night at the party. He was sure there was more reasoning than missing Michael for her sudden appearance in a place she so vehemently avoided and seemingly despised.

“No,” Calum answered. “I didn’t ask either. I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”

Her shoulders slumped as if the weight of the story was bearing down on her at the prospect of telling the truth. Eye contact was steady as she opened up and revealed pieces of her past Calum had only been left to wonder about.

“I was supposed to be figuring things out here. Trying to get my life together and make decisions. Michael was trying to help.”

Calum nodded his understanding. There was a time when he had decisions he needed to make too; two paths unwound at the same time and no right or wrong answer had seemingly been in sight. He’d done the same, sought out his family and then listened to what was inside of him. It took time and then it was sudden, the band was the path he followed and it was a choice he had never regretted. He wanted Arden to follow a path like that too, to wherever she was seeking and find whatever she wanted in life.

“I get it. I know how difficult that can be,” he said and watched as a look of disbelief cut across her features and settled in the way she stared blankly back at him.

“How would you know?” She asked and though the question may have seemed accusatory or like he could never understand, her tone verged on begging to know if he really did and how it was possible. “You had the band. Isn’t that what you always wanted? Didn’t you just… know?”

Calum let out a small and almost sarcastic laugh and quieted when he realized Arden was serious. He realized she didn’t know the choices he faced. They weren’t exactly close during their teenage years; the formation and come up of the band had divided their worlds even more so. It was hard to think of those times, after the weeks Calum had spent with her and all the bits and pieces of their pasts coming back it pained him to think they had been so close yet so very distant from each other for years.

“I had the band and I had football. I had to choose,” he explained and caught her attention as he noted the arch of her eyebrow and the stall of her hand petting Duke.

“But you had options,” she mumbled. “Either would have been something to be proud of.”

“Neither had that certainty, the band might not have succeeded, my football career could have burnt out before it really began. I had to make a choice and then I had to take a chance.”

A breeze passed between them as Arden contemplated his honesty. The situations weren’t carbon copies of each other but they were similar enough Calum felt empathy rattling his ribcage and putting a pang of pain through his heart. The crumple of her face and the stray tear she didn’t bother to brush away left Calum breathless and wanting to reach out. He was hyper aware of everything; their parents in the house, Michael, alarm bells ringing so clearly in his mind, but drowned them out in favor of following his initial instinct. The pad of his thumb was gentle across her cheek, she didn’t say anything, didn’t flinch or question the action. His hand and heart fell as she slightly pulled away and abandoned his gaze to stare up at the night sky. She shifted and settled, sighed once more and geared up to voice her thoughts and struggles by sinking into the comfort Duke provided.

“I wish I had something more solid, something I want. All I have is half a degree and no fucking idea what I want to do with my life. I dropped out of university and travelled to ‘find myself’ but really just ran away. I have nothing that I’m good at.”

Calum was about to interject and remind her of paintings that once hung in the hallway and a place mat posted on the fridge. Her hand finding its way to his knee stopped the words from coming out and he had to wonder if that was her intention. One breath and it was gone.

“At least, nothing that I’m so passionate about that I know it’s what I want,” she said in one fell swoop and surprised Calum. “I don’t have a dream that I'm chasing. If anything I’m only trying to move out of someone’s shadow and doing a bang up job of it. Now I’m caught behind two and stuck in lies that will never end. That’s nothing to be proud of.”

Calum’s throat tightened at the unexpected honesty and turn the night had taken. Only minutes before they were surrounded by family and mindless small talk—or so Calum thought. It was about the engagement and the band and in that moment Calum realized anything to do with Arden outside of their situation hadn’t been brought up. He couldn’t imagine feeling casted into the shadows. His heart ached for her and the struggles she felt she was facing alone.

“I’m sorry for asking you to pretend with our families,” she added, head shaking slightly. “That wasn’t fair. I should just toughen up and tell them the truth. And don’t worry, I’ll tell them it’s my fault and I asked you to go along with it. You shouldn’t have to take the fall for my lies.”

She made to move as if to get up but Calum was quick to stop her; just a light touch and slight shift stalling her intent and bringing them closer. Duke was in her arms but found his way to the ground and stalked off back into the house. A belated moment and skipped heart beat gathered courage for Calum and helped words come out that he had been thinking for weeks. Words that settled in the back of his throat and burned sugary sweet.

“What if it’s not all pretend?”

“What?” Arden was quick to respond and panic—the fear that captured her eyes was unsettling. “Calum, what do you mean?”

She was poised and waiting for his answer as his mind went into chaos. He wasn’t sure he was ready to face everything that came with his own truth but the words came out too soon to stop them. His thoughts were tangled now, fleeting visions of real moments dancing around his mind.

“That we’ve been real… with each other. All those moments away from it all. Those were real. Weren’t they?”

They were real to him—and so were the feelings that followed and defined those moments. The alarm bells rang in full force as she tilted her head and the minimal distance between them felt craterous and minuscule all at once. Peaches invaded his senses and the taste of sugar was just a breath away but it was blown away by approaching footsteps. Arden moved away on instinct and Calum wondered if alarm bells rang in her mind as well. She settled back on the grass just in time for Michael to round the corner and come into view with his arms crossed and a ghost of a smirk disappearing from his face. Calum and Arden both looked up at him in silence and waited for him to speak first.

“Everyone was wondering where you guys wandered off to,” he began and then shot a pointed look at his sister. “Mum and Joy are talking about wedding dresses. Told them I’d find you, they thought you wouldn’t want to miss it.”

“Right, thanks for the heads up,” Arden said around a sigh and began to stand.

She shot Calum a glance as Michael began to lead her back to the house. Calum was quick to get up and follow her into the conversation of possible bridal styles and centerpieces. Duke had found his way to his usual perch on the couch and perked up when Calum and Arden walked in. Calum took up Arden’s side as she broke into the discussion by clearing her throat to announce her presence. The mothers turned to look at her; eyes alight with wedding wonder and idle chit chat being broken.

“I don’t know how to say this,” Arden began and Calum’s stomach sank as he realized the truth was verging on her lips. His hand reached out for hers, in solidarity, to show that he would stand beside her no matter what she decided. They could weather the storm better together than stranded and alone.  “But Calum and I aren’t getting married.”

Instant regret flooded Arden’s eyes as the room fell silent and shock hung thick within the air. She tensed against his side and turned to look at him with a pleading expression that Calum could only interpret as reversing the statement and making the visible disappointment and heartache vanish from the room. He hoped it was what she wanted.

“Not yet, anyway. We rushed the engagement, clearly. We don’t want to rush the wedding too. We want to enjoy some time together without the pressure of planning. We’ll let you guys know when we’re ready for that,” Calum jumped in smoothly as he watched the panic disperse from Arden’s eyes and felt the appreciative squeeze of his hand—a signal and a thank you that reassured him his hope was correct.

Everyone simmered at his explanation; they called Arden’s statement complete theatrics and not a funny joke though they were laughing, Calum guessed it was more so in relief than in good jest. Michael was the only one who didn’t wear a reaction so clearly on his face, just an arch of a questioning eyebrow at the initial honesty of Arden he hadn’t been privy to. Calum knew some explaining to Michael was due—and that Mali wouldn’t be so easily satiated with the on the fly explanation he had come up with.

The rest of the evening went by in a blur of nerves that kept both Calum and Arden on their toes. They tried their bests to remember the odds and ends of what had already been said. Mali pulled Calum aside for a moment as the night was dying down and a bite of fear coursed through him as he knew her suspicions were sharp and came with merit.

“I still don’t know what’s really going on,” she began and offered a sympathetic smile that helped to calm his nerves. “But I can tell there’s something real there. Just be careful, okay? I don’t want to see either of you ending up hurt. Especially not by each other.”

Calum took her words for all they were worth but only slightly nodded to show he had been listening. He still couldn’t manage to give her the answers she was seeking but the nod acted as much more than a method to show he was listening. He understood. He confirmed. He agreed. The last thing he wanted was for this entire situation to end with hurting hearts.

The hole of lies and half truths they were falling into was being dug deeper and deeper; no landing was in sight. He swept the room as everyone prepared to leave or settle in for the night and his stare landed back on Arden who hadn’t peeled her eyes away from him since his saving moment. It took one look to realize that falling was okay, as long as it was with her. As long as it was real. Calum had started to speak his truth to her and now he could only hope that all of the falling feelings that consumed him were somewhere within her as well.

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