#and for that matter today was better than yesterday by a mile. work was kind of eh but I actually didn't mind working till

[veshialles]

girl in red was right, they are so pretty in their button up shirts

[leasstories]

I’m coming home

Eddie Munson x GN reader

WC: ≈750

No trigger warnings, just fluff and Eddie missing you

Based on Timezone by Måneskin

Image credit : Fidzyo

October 30th, 1988

Eddie and his band Corroded Coffin left for their first world tour, they had the chance to be chosen to be Metallica’s opening act in their Damaged Justice tour.

Eddie is alone in his hotel room in Brussels. It’s currently 8 am and he didn’t sleep well that night. He got you over the phone for only 5 minutes as you called when he was about to leave for the show. You told Eddie how you accepted to work overtime tonight. Apparently the Hideout attracts more customers since Eddie (and corroded coffin) became more famous and revealed in a interview that it’s where they started playing music. And tonight he hated that fact because those overtime hours didn’t allow him to call you after his show, as he always does. Your daily post-concert call is Eddie’s favorite part of the day. He really loves when you tell him what happens back in Hawkins, he loves telling you about his shows and about the cities he gets to visit.

Yesterday night was lonely, and without your usual call, Eddie started missing you even more. That’s also what kept him awake that night.

Later today Corroded Coffin and Metallica are supposed to head to Paris for the show tomorrow. But Eddie isn’t even excited about the next show, he can’t stop thinking about you, about the ocean and time zones that keep the two of you apart. He is thinking about the almost 4500 miles (7240 km) keeping you apart. Eddie’s been pacing in his room, thinking about you, all alone in your shared apartment in Hawkins. He is already imagining you, wearing one of his homemade Corroded Coffin hoodie. A hoodie that, according to him, you wear better than him.

Of course Eddie’s dream was to go on tour, and it’s even more amazing and meaningful for him to go on tour with Metallica! But he can’t enjoy it, it has no meaning without you by his side. Fame has no meaning either.

Eddie tried to convince you to come with him, to discover Europe by his side, but you have to work… and even though Eddie said he could support financially the two of you, you declined. You’re the kind of person who love being financially independent. Since you’ve been with Eddie, you’ve been more than clear on the fact that you wanted to support yourself financially no matter how much he’d end up earning. Eddie always respected you for it, until this morning. And what’s even more frustrating is that he can’t take the phone and call you… it’s currently 2am in Hawkins and even though your shift probably ended 30 minutes ago, Eddie can’t disturb your sleep or keep you from sleeping after the shift you must have had.

Eddie just realized how much he hates being apart from you. He knew it would be hard for him but he didn’t think it would be that hard. He imagines you sleeping with his pillow, alone in your bed. Where he’s supposed to be in. Eddie just wants to come back home. To come back to you. He wants to hold you, smell your perfume. He wish he could have stayed, now more than ever. He wants a cozy night, watching a horror movie with you, in your shared apartment.

Thinking about horror movies, Eddie just realized that tomorrow is Halloween. Since you’ve met, you’ve never spent a Halloween apart as it’s your favorite holiday to the both of you. Eddie thinks about you, tomorrow night, in the apartment spending your favorite holiday on your own. He imagines you, in his sweater, watching your favorite horror movie all alone. Eddie can’t stand this idea.

Later today, Eddie’s got another plane to go to Paris. But he just took the decision that he weren’t gonna take it. He doesn’t care about the goddamn contracts that he signed. Eddie’s gonna come home, he’s gonna fly straight to you. He knows taking a plane ticket on the same day will cost him a lot of money. But Eddie doesn’t care, today, he’s coming home.

Eddie’s already thinking of how he will make up for lost time. Tonight Eddie’s not gonna fuck you, no. He’s gonna make love to you. He’s going to show you how much he missed you, he’s gonna show you how much he loves you. Nothing makes sense without you, and you’ll always come first. You’re always gonna come before anything including Eddie’s music and career and tonight that’s what he’s going to prove.

[theharbor]

i know that you’re hiding something from me .

IT ISN'T EVEN REALLY RAINING, THE PRECIPITATION IN THE AIR LITTLE MORE THAN A FINE MIST SURROUNDING THEM, YET JO'S HAIR HAS STILL GROWN DAMP. the chill of the afternoon has cut through her coat and she's having trouble hiding her shiver, although keeping her free arm wrapped around herself helps slightly. in her other hand, she holds a cigarette, as she almost always does, practically perpetually smoking any time she's in the open air as if she's attempting to chase death itself. and maybe she is, even if it isn't something she's willing to consciously consider. or maybe it's just yet another irresponsible distraction, something to take her mind off ... everything else. the water circling the drain that represents the siphoning away of her entire fucking life.

the pressure of the case has grown like ivy slowly suffocating the life out of a tree. some days, it almost feels like it helps them work better in tandem, that chasing their leads and putting the pieces of the gruesome puzzle together has made more of a team out of them after shaky beginnings. other days, it frays them further apart, incubating that pervasive feeling of suspicion that seems to linger beneath the surface at all times. clearly, this is one of those latter days. jo'd felt it for hours now in the tense silences between them, at the station, in the car, instead of the comfortable silences that existed other times. she exhales smoke shakily, hunching her shoulders as she tries to pull her coat more tightly around herself, shaking her head as she flexes her jaw.

" yeah, okay, navarro, jesus fuck. " the laugh that escapes her is brittle, insincere, full of bitterness and disbelief. even so, it's not like she's particularly surprised, not after the way their conversation had gone in the car. the tension had been building all day until, finally, the foundation seemed to crack beneath the weight of everything left unsaid, of the mistrust, of the questions unanswered and information unshared. a flare of frustration engulfs her chest momentarily and she draws in another angry drag from her cigarette, only barely restraining the urge to cough as the aggressiveness of it burns her lungs. the car still idles in the corner of her eye exactly where he left it when he came after her and even that makes her sour. " guess what? you're not entitled to all my fucking secrets. that's not what this is about. you're right, there's shit I don't tell you, but at least none of that shit is relevant to an actual investigation. "

she cuts herself off, tossing her cigarette to the concrete to grind it out under her heel and running her hand through her hair, almost fully wet by now, with the amount of time she's spent walking along the road since she made the decision to exit the vehicle. maybe she's not being entirely fair, but maybe she doesn't give half a shit, not after having marinated in it for as many days as she has, today, and yesterday, and the day before. it's been no mystery that they don't share everything with each other. it hadn't occurred to her that it would matter this much. " so I don't think you're exactly in a position to level that kind of accusation at me right now. " her other arm crosses over herself, pulling at her coat, finally turning her gaze fully to stare at him, letting a beat pass, and then another. " you want honesty? you first, rafe, starting with the shit that affects our case. " she can't feel the tips of her fingers, but her heels feel planted to the ground, her stubbornness a tether keeping her exactly where she is. " and I'm not getting back in the fucking car. I'll walk. " no matter that it's a few miles in the cold and wet.

@recknng / music for the soul.

[strayen-fx]

Red.

》 HHJ x reader

》 angst, vampirish theme

》 warnings: mentions of blood, hints of physical assault

》 2.1k words

》 a/n: short and simple, after months of writing break. Hope you guys enjoy regardless :)

“Stay away from them, my dear. Save your blood from the horrors of their fangs. Be wary of solitude, and be wary of the crowd.”

It was a day not unlike any other. My morning kicked off lazily, with me waking up almost an hour later than a college freshman was supposed to. Nothing unusual there. I did my usual morning prep, took a cup of grandma’s tea in one gulp, and went my way. I was already late for the train—I had to run after a departing bus with an exceptional speed that would put Olympiads to shame. I got in the room just in time as the bell rang for first period. I came in huffing like an old man, but it’s alright. Way better than walking through the early jam-packed hallways.

The first aberration in my daily humdrum existence happened on my way to fourth period. A student from another department stopped me on my tracks. I knew him; he was a member of the student council. Was I in some sort of trouble?

He introduced himself as Han Jisung, then proceeded to ask if I have seen his friend.

“He’s tall,” Jisung explained. “But like, not super tall. Not the towering-over-people kind. He has a mole under his eye. He’s got black—no wait, I think he dyed his hair again the other day. Anyway, have you seen someone like him? He’s noticeably handsome. I guess. I’m more handsome, though, but you know what I mean.”

The whole school would know who he is talking about. The one and only Hwang Hyunjin: champion swimmer, council member, and just a general talk of the town. The Prince. Even if I did see him around, though, I wouldn’t know. I never pay attention to the people I walk by.

I shook my head and muttered a soft sorry. I did feel bad for Jisung. He looked so worried and dejected, and I can’t blame him—not after after the incident with Seungmin. I can’t really take it against him to worry about his friends. I sauntered off to my next class, my mind still stuck on the fact that a normal person in my school has actually talked to me, and I was able to keep my composure.

Fifth period: P.E. I don’t even know why we still have this subject in college. I opted to take a stroll instead. You see, a huge, dense forest is situated right behind the main school grounds. You could say that the school itself lies within the bosom of greeneries. Unkempt bushes and rows of towering trees stretched over several miles deep, starting from the edge of the campus to god-knows-where. It is my goal to scout the whole area before graduation.

Weighed down by my personal monstrous beast, I trudged through. I walked for at least fifteen minutes before I finally reached the spot—my spot. Sheet of decaying leaves cushioned a huge gray boulder, standing at least ten feet tall, shaped like an odd piece of egg smashed against the forest floor. Against it stood a larger stone, this one dotted with moss and weathered with cracks. They were propped against each other for support, as if stopping one another from tumbling to the ground.

There was a smaller rock at the foot of the smaller stone, and I use it as leverage to climb up and sit on top of the largest boulder. It was my favorite place. Most times I could just pretend that I was alone in my own tiny bubble, at the center of that clearing that nobody else ventures but me. I don’t feel the breath of people suffocating me with every step that I take. I don’t feel my heart thumping with the sight of anyone else. I don’t need to hold back. Here, I don’t feel weird.

But today felt somehow different.

It was awfully silent. The wind felt sharper and colder. Electricity was humming in the air, leaving my skin prickling with discomfort. There was a tension in my veins that I couldn’t quite explain—it felt like an omen of an incoming disaster.

Time ticked slow. A couple hours could have passed—or maybe it has only been five minutes—when a nearby rustling perked up my senses.

Trying to keep my movements as quiet as possible, I hopped down and took up a defensive position, which wasn’t easy to do for a student with no actual weapon aside from an almost-empty bag and a worn-out calligraphy pen. My instincts told me to take cover—but my feet seemed glued to the ground. Sweat trickled from my forehead. My hands started to feel clammy.

And then, just as I was about to scamper away, a figure crashed into view from behind the nearest oak tree. I almost threw my bag towards the person’s direction, until I had a clear view of the intruder’s face.

It was Hwang Hyunjin, wide-eyed and disoriented, with his cheeks and uniform smudged with traces of blood.

“Help me.”

His voice came out as a tiny croak, as if his throat was filled with acid. He stumbled towards me, reaching out his hand for support. I wasn’t able to move an inch—and who could blame me? The situation was way too hard to process.

Hwang Hyunjin, the university prince, was hunched huffing before me, his clothes caked with mud and dried blood, his hair a nest of mess on his head. He had a cut on his cheek, I noticed. His breathing was heavy and labored, as if the mere act of standing on his own two feet required all the effort he could muster.

“Help me,” he repeated.

“What happened to you?” I managed to blurt out. My initial thought was that some random outsiders kicked his butt for stealing their girlfriends. But no—someone like Hyunjin would have been able to handle that. Plus, something in his eyes showed an elaborate fear—something only a beast would be capable of instilling. I should know.

My heart began thumping faster, a colossal drum barreling in my chest.

Just as my schoolmate was about to open his mouth and explain, a loud rustling broke the stillness of the air. Before I could process what was happening, Hyunjin grabbed my hand and bolted away, dragging me with him.

“Don’t look back!” he warned.

I did.

At least a dozen feet behind us was another male, probably as old as Hyunjin. He was sporting our school uniform, walking casually under the shades of trees as if time wasn’t of any matter. What puzzled me, though, was the fact that we can’t seem to distance ourselves from him despite the heavy efforts Hyunjin had been exerting to drag us both away from this newcomer.

I took another glance behind me, and to my surprise, the young man wasn’t there anymore. Nowhere behind us, as if he dissipated without a single trace.

Hyunjin took a sudden stop, causing me to bump my head against his back. I was about to call him out for stopping, but then I saw the looming figure a few meters in front of us.

“You…?” I began, my mind a juggle of unanswered questions. How on earth did that happen? How is he—

Hyunjin's friend, Kim Seungmin, stood before us in his dirty school uniform. He looked pale, his eyes bloodshot, but he was standing there in full grace, very much alive, giving us a toothy grin. “You’re hurting my feelings, Hyun. Why are you running away from me?”

Hyunjin’s grip on my hand went tighter. “Seungmin...”

“Friends are supposed to help each other, am I right?” Seungmin continued, faux dismay dripping in his voice. He bared his fangs, its tips dripping with fresh blood. “So help me, Hyunjin.”

I felt my body run cold. I wanted to scream, run, anything—anything to get away from this. From him. From the two of them. From everything. But Hyunjin's hand remained strong around my wrist, and my legs were close to turning jelly. I could start to feel the fullness in my mouth, the pointy ends of my incisors. Something that only happens when I'm in an extreme hunger or danger.

“Stay away from them,” grandma said. “We are the same kind, but we are different. Weaker. They see us as preys, as special commodities. They can smell your blood despite my concoctions, my dear, remember this!”

Seungmin tilted his head to one side, finally regarding my presence. “And you, over there. I’ve never tried drinking such special blood.” He grinned. “Satiate my thirst.”

The last thing I knew, a strong hand was pressing tightly around my neck, turning my vision green.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°

“Have you heard of the news?”

“What news?”

“Kim Seungmin was safe! They found him in the forest yesterday.”

“Thank goodness! Was he hurt?”

“He had a few gashes, but he’s fine. Hyunjin found him and brought him to the hospital right away.”

Students filled the corridor, everyone bustling and hustling about the news: after his sudden disappearance, Seungmin was finally found by his best friend, Hyunjin. The latter saw him in the forest, hungry and disoriented. They went straight to the hospital to treat his minor wounds, and that was that—nobody bothered to ask how he managed to lose himself in the wilderness, or how we managed to survive seven days on his own. Nobody asked him stupid and unnecessary questions. Seungmin was safe, and that was all that mattered.

I brushed my way past the milling crowd, flinching at every accidental touch. I kept my eyes on the ground, forcing my mind into silence. I was expecting everyone to be in their respective classrooms at this time of the day, but apparently, the news of Seungmin’s return has become enough reason for everyone to wander about and neglect their individual duties. It was a grand miscalculation on my part—I hadn’t braced myself for this huge number of people.

Not here. Not now. Not ever.

I just have to get back home, and then it’ll be over. My insides would stop churning once I’ve drunk grandma’s tea—that has worked for 18 years now. I can stop this. I can stop me.

I made a run towards the comfort room. To my luck, nobody was inside. I washed my face over and over, as if doing so would cleanse me from the impurity stamped on every drop of my blood. The face on the mirror horrified me—I had to stop myself from punching the glass over and over.

The moment I stepped out, I felt his presence.

He was there, leaning against the wall, lurking behind the shadows. There was a faint gleam of terror in his eyes, but at the same time, I can feel it: the hunger. Lust for meat. Thirst for blood.

“Don’t be like him, Hyunjin,” I pleaded. “Don’t be like us.”

He shook his head in resignation. “It’s too late.”

He took a step closer. Another. He kept on walking until he stood right in front of me, too close I can feel him breathe.

Too close I can see the faint traces of blood on his lips.

“I’m still hungry,” he sobbed. “I’m still hungry…”

Fear was apparent in his eyes—fear of what would happen to him, fear of what he had become. “You will be fine,” I offered, taking his hand in mine. “Trust me on this. It will be fine.”

And then I felt it, stronger this time—the hunger he was talking about. The thirst. My stomach growled in protest at the sight of Hyunjin’s pale flesh. I can smell his blood—I can feel its steady rhythm as it flowed through his pulsing veins.

I need to get home. Maybe my grandma could do something about Hyunjin, too. Maybe she could produce a stronger tea, and both of us wouldn’t have to worry about our instincts anymore.

We stood next to each other for a full minute before he broke the silence.

“We need each other to survive,” Hyunjin whispered. “If we drink the blood of our own kind, we can last for a month without feeding on others.” He freed his hand from my hold and gripped my shoulders tightly. “I need you. And you need me, too.”Hyunjin leaned down until we were staring at each other at eye level. He closed the distance between us. I closed my eyes, and for the first time, I allowed my monster to take ove.

[xsamsharons]

moi tsarevich - n. lantsov

pairing: nikolai lantsov x reader.

genre/warning: fluff!.

words: 2.1k.

summary: in which you are forced to share co-captaincy with nikolai and you really can't stand him, or can you?

The alliance had been a practical decision, really. Your ship had been destroyed by an enemy that had happened to be an enemy of Nikolai as well, so (against your better wishes) you’d decided that joining forces until the issue was taken care of and you could take the time to rebuild your ship was the smartest choice. However, now, having been living on the same ship for about two weeks, you were starting to think that maybe smart wasn’t exactly the word you would use. You’d never had anything against the privateer, but you also didn’t necessarily want to be sharing the co-captaincy of a crew with someone you only saw as an arrogant and entitled royal.

“Just because we agreed to join forces, it doesn’t mean you can enter my quarters whenever you please.” the prince’s voice rang through the room as he stood by the door, holding it open in hopes of getting you to leave.

“Well, I asked where the captain’s quarters were located and I was directed here.” you responded, spinning around in his desk chair, just to further aggravate him.

“Exactly, and as far as I'm concerned I'm the captain of this ship.” he continued, still holding the door open and standing next to it.

“So, which is it? Prince or captain?” you asked. At that, he shut the door and walked over to where you were sitting, placing both hands on the sides of the chair you were spinning on, effectively making it halt.

“Listen, lapushka,” he began, your faces centimetres away and your eyes locked on each other's. “I know you must be dying to spend time with me just like everyone, but you’re on my ship now. My ship, my rules.” he finished, a shit eating grin on his lips.

“Our agreement clearly stated co-captaincy.” you said, getting up and forcing him to detach himself from the chair he still had his arms on. “But if I threaten your authority that much, you can keep your quarters, moi tsarevich.”

✦

The next morning brought sunlight for the first time since you’d been aboard Nikolai’s ship, and with sunlight came sparring sessions on the main deck between the joined crews.

The sun was high in the sky, the water clear for miles and the sounds of swords clashing could be heard from any part of the ship.

“Good morning, lapushka.” you immediately rolled your eyes at the sound of the voice you didn’t even have to turn around to know who it belonged to. “How did your non-captain-quarters treat you last night?” he asked, coming to stand beside you while you leaned against the railing, facing off to sea.

“Same as they’ve been treating me for the past fortnight, your highness.” he rolled his eyes at the mention of his title, which brought a smirk out on your face. “Do you need anything else?”

“Never needed anything in the first place, I just wanted to make sure you weren’t missing my face too much.” he winked, you snorted.

“As if.”

“Admit it, that’s why you want the captain’s quarters, you want to have the chance to stare at me more.” he continued, moving closer to your side on the railing.

“‘More’? I don’t even even stare at you to begin with.” you lied.

“You know you do, darling.” he stated, and now you were the one rolling your eyes.

“What’s with the pet names? Treat every member of your crew like this?” you questioned, still not looking at him. “Pretty unprofessional if you ask me.”

“I’m pretty unprofessional?” he asked, making an emphasis on ‘pretty’. “I knew you thought I was pretty.” he finished, a smirk appearing on his face once again. You were starting to think he actually might have that stupid look tattooed on his face.

“You need my confirmation? Yesterday with your authority and today with your attractiveness?” you looked at him expecting for him to be offended, but instead being met with an even bigger smirk than before.

“So you’re not denying it?” he asked.

“Get lost, Nikolai.” you answered, and turned your head to stare at the ocean once again. As you did so, you heard his laugh echo while he did exactly what you told him to and began to walk away.

“I’m never letting that go.” he shouted over his shoulder at you, turning some heads while you tried to hide your smile. As if his ego needed any more boosting.

✦

As the sun started to set, the sounds of sailors drunk on rum and clashing swords started to go down as well. The ship had been anchored someplace near the south Ravkan coast, and everyone had started to turn in for the night as the orange of the sky started to turn black.

Once the sun had settled and the sound disappeared, you remained the only person on the main deck, enjoying the quiet as the light pull of the sea swayed the boat.

“I get you want my room, but that doesn’t mean you need to sleep out here if you don’t get it.” you heard his voice from behind you, and wondered if the talent for interrupting quiet moments ran in his family.

“I just don’t see the point of sleeping at all if it isn’t there.” your voice was dripping with sarcasm, and as you turned around to look at him, you found his ever present side smile planted on his lips, as well as two swords - one in each hand.

“I think you mean you don’t see the point of sleeping at all if it’s not beside me.” he responded, and you chose to ignore the comment in favor of asking about the two swords he was carrying with him.

“Are you trying to kill me? I know you are aware of the fact you can’t beat me in a fight but choosing the middle of the night to attack me is kind of a low blow.” you teased, knowing that wasn’t the case. “I’d expect better manners from a prince.”

“First of all,” he started, “if I wanted to kill you I wouldn't need to attack in the middle of the night when you were alone. Second, we are the only ones who didn’t spar today and I thought it’d be a great co-captain bonding exercise.” he finished and you laughed, grabbing the sword from the arm he extended for you.

“Co-captain bonding exercise?” you asked.

“I’m still working on the name, point still stands.” he answered.

“Fine.” you agreed, and took a high guard with your sword in one hand.

Nikolai offered a mock salute which you returned with a smile, and soon you were both circling each other waiting for the other to leap towards them. He lunged first, and you avoided your sword smoothly, smirking at him in the process.

“Did you pick the night because you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of your crew?” you asked with a smirk.

“I’d wait until I win to start sounding so confident.” he winked, and threw an overhand cut at you. You didn’t manage to evade it this time and instead blocked it quickly, reflexively.

“What do I get when I win?” you asked, as you both kept cutting at each other.

“If you win, you can sleep in my quarters for a week.” he answered and brushed the fake edge of his sword against your cheek softly.

As time passed, it started to become less about the fighting and more about the taunting - or flirting, you supposed was a more accurate word. The smooth words of the prince in front of you made you want to blush and lunge at him at the same time. Nikolai cut lazily at you, and as your swords clashed, you both raised your arms to move your swords high above your face, now with nothing in between you but a few inches.

“Now would be a good time to admit you like my handsome face and kiss me.” Nikolai smirked, with both your arms still raised above your head, the distance between you becoming smaller with each passing second.

“I bet you’d like that.” you answered, and instead of closing the distance between the both of you, you settled for disarming him and throwing his sword to the side, moving quickly to have his back pressed up against the railing and the edge of your sword against his neck.

“I wouldn’t be against this kissing position either.” he shrugged, “Might cut my throat if I move too quickly but i’m willing to take the risk.” he finished, and you snorted.

“Tell me I won and I can have your quarters for a week first.” you demanded, raising your eyebrows.

“You can have whatever you want, lapushka.” he whispered.

You lowered your sword down after his words, throwing it aside much like you’d done with his, and pulled him in by the collar of his shirt. Your lips moved against each other as his hands traveled from the railing to your back. “I think I'll make you sleep in my room while i sleep in yours tonight, just as payback for the last couple of nights.” you said against his mouth, your hands wrapped around his neck and his still placed on your back, an illusion of a distance between the two of you.

“If you recall my words, I said that if you won you could sleep in my room for a week.” he quoted himself - of course he did. “But I never said anything about me not sleeping there.” he finished and you smirked, looking up at him with your mouth agape.

“You knew this would happen.” you said, slightly slapping his chest.

“I was hoping it would.” he shrugged. “Been hoping for a while actually, don’t know what took you so long. I’m extremely irresistible.” he stated as a matter of fact, making you roll your eyes.

“I’ll make you pay for this, moi tsarevich” you warned.

“I’m counting on it.” he winked, and leaned down to kiss you again.

ravkan glossary: tsarevich - prince, son of tsar (direct address: moi tsarevich). lapushka - darling, honey, sweetie.

[separatist-apologist]

Um can I have a part 2 to Lucien finding out about solstice? Pretty please?

You can have a part 2. I was not planning a follow up to yesterday's little sass-a-thon but apparently everyone likes bratty Elain and irreverent Lucien.

--

--

Lucien woke wondering if he’d imagined the entire night with Elain. It certainly didn’t seem real. She’d barely said one word to him for a good year and some months only to turn around and tell him to eat shit. He wondered what it said about him that he liked it. Lucien groaned, kicking the blankets off his sweaty body like a petulant child. He was tired of waking up alone and more tired still having seen the fire lurking behind his mates’ eyes.

Lucien padded to the bathroom suite, still naked from sleep. He perched on the edge of the tub, turned on the hottest water he could possibly stand, and sank into the scalding water until everything but the top of his head was visible. He was supposed to leave today, back to the mortal lands. Back to sniping with Jurian and arguing with Vassa and daydreaming about Elain when no one looked at him too closely. He still had his apartment in Velaris. Perhaps, if today went well, he’d spend a week in Feyre’s starlit city.

He took his time dressing and grooming, still more than a little irritated with Azriel from the night before no matter how his angry outburst had worked in Lucien’s favor. He certainly would not be outdone in the one arena he knew he could run circles around the male in. Lucien had always had a sense for fashion and what worked well. He didn’t need to know Elain well to know it was something she appreciated about a male.

If Rhysand was surprised to see him that morning, he gave no indication as he handed Lucien the morning paper at the breakfast table. Their silence was companiable enough, sipping coffee while Lucien tucked away tiny pieces of information about Night Court he thought might use as leverage at some point. It was nothing the High Lord wasn’t willing to risk, given how he prized information himself, but Lucien never passed up an opportunity to keep himself well informed.

He felt strangely content in that moment until Elain swept in wearing a gown of pale, shimmering gold that was altogether inappropriate for the softly snowing day around them. Rhys glanced up at her from his cup of coffee, one eyebrow raised for all Elain seemed to notice. She had tea and a scone and, without a word to either of them, sat across from Lucien. Lucien’s eyes roamed what part of her body she could see; the long-sleeved dress seemed to be made of paper and exposed her shoulders and collarbone to him. His fingers twitched around his own mug as the mating bond woke with a vengeance.

Touch her touch her touch her touch her—

“Lucien,” Rhys interrupted Lucien’s musing. Elain kept her eyes focused on the wall behind him, her big, brown eyes framed by too-long lashes. Was she wearing make up, he wondered? Or had her lips always been so pink, so—“Feyre mentioned you were considering staying for a few more days.”

Elain’s eyes focused, glancing towards the High Lord. Had Feyre said that? He certainly hadn’t made any promises outside of his own mind.

“I have some business in the city,” he agreed, well aware Rhysand must know his only business was his mate.

“Are you planning to stay here? You are welcome to, obviously.”

Lucien shook his head as color began to creep into Elain’s cheeks. What was she thinking, he wondered?

“No, in my apartment,” he replied, catching how her eyebrows raised. Did she not realize he had one?

Rhysand’s violet-colored eyes shifted to Elain, his mouth curving into a smile. “I’ll have your things sent over, then. Please, feel free to stop by for dinner if you’d like. I know Feyre very much enjoys your company.”

Yeah, yeah, Lucien thought, still thinking of how Rhysand had shut Azriel down the night before. Not out of friendship, but politics. Still, it was better than tacit approval and, in some stupid, small way Lucien could appreciate the shrewdness.

Elain excused herself leaving Lucien to finish his breakfast and dress for the cold before making the trek towards his apartment. He’d try at dinner, he told himself. It would be easier to corner her somewhere alone, to let her lobby insults at him and, perhaps, kiss her on the mouth if she held still long enough for him to capture her face.

Lucien turned the lock to his apartment to find two things wildly out of place. His bags were sitting just inside the foyer next to a long, silver cape that was too feminine and small to belong to him, hung on the hooks beside the door. Just at the end of the hall, Lucien saw Elain in that same golden gown, arms crossed over her chest.

“I didn’t know you had an apartment,” she accused as he unwound his scarf.

“You never asked,” he reminded her patiently, his blood thrumming at the sight of her in his apartment. He could practically taste the argument floating between them.

Give me your worst.

“Must I do everything?” She asked him, arms crossed over her chest. He had to look away; she’d inadvertently caused her breasts to swell beneath her arms and Lucien was struck dumb at the sight.

“Not everything, no,” he replied, walking to the living room where she waited. “But perhaps something might be nice.”

She scoffed and Lucien dropped onto the cream-colored loveseat, stretching out his long legs as she watched her from the corners of his eye.

“I don’t owe you—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he interrupted, bored. “Why are you here, again?”

Because it was her, after all, standing in his apartment. She shifted, her boots still wet from the snow. She’d created a little wet spot on the hard wood beneath her feet. He would normally have cringed at that, but it was Elain, if she wanted to ruin her floors, who was he to stop her?

She bit her bottom lip. “To tell you how hideous you looked at breakfast this morning.”

Lucien laughed as he ran a hand down his chest. Elain’s eyes followed the movement. “Liar.”

She scoffed. “I’m surprised you fit in this little apartment at all, given the size of your ego.”

He couldn’t help himself as he leaned forward, carefully watching her expression. “You know, Elain, they say it takes one to know one.”

Her mouth dropped open again as she stood, stunned into silence for a moment. “You find me ugly?” She asked, dropping her arms to her side.

“Impossibly ugly,” he agreed, the lie rolling right off his tongue. Her cheeks flushed as he took a step towards her. He was going to kiss her, he decided. “And ill mannered.”

“It is your manners that are offensive,” she retorted hotly. “Though not nearly offensive as your face.”

Lucien hesitated, surprised by how her words stung a bit. It was a game and yet…she’d touched on something he’d privately feared from the moment Amarantha gouged out his eye. He could still recall, in the early days, how people recoiled when they saw the scarring, how even now people stared, surprised at the brutality etched into his face. He’d spent more than one night wondering if Elain too found him abhorrent to look at.

He arched a brow, his heart hammering in his chest. He didn’t know what he’d do if she truly thought him ugly. It would wound him far more than anything, short of a flat-out rejection of the bond. “Oh?”

Her eyes drifted towards his mouth. Lucien blinked, some of his fear ebbing. “Disgusting,” she murmured, inching closer. He held himself exactly where he was despite his muscles screaming in protest, demanding he yank her into him and kiss her senseless. “The ugliest man I’ve ever seen.”

“Liar,” he told her again. She blinked, head tilted, eyes half-lidded, her lips parted ever so slightly. This was what had gotten Azriel in trouble, wasn’t it? This moment, right here. He suddenly felt immense sympathy for the male. Lucien was also rooted in place, desperate to touch her, too.

“I know,” she whispered. Her eyes fluttered closed the moment he reached for her face, holding her just as she was so he could kiss her. Words failed him the moment their lips touched, the world melting into nothingness. Whatever he’d thought, however he imagined that moment paled in comparison to the real thing. She was soft, her lips sweet. Every single piece of her seemed to radiate an invisible heat his blood recognized by contact alone.

Mate. Mine. His body sang, urging him to take things further, to strip her of her clothes and mark her with his scent so thoroughly no other male could get within a mile of her without smelling him, too. He had to stop himself, unsure what she wanted.

“You’re a shitty kisser,” he told her, forehead pressed to her own. Elain giggled, the sound ringing through his chest.

“You’re so rude,” she responded with a sigh. “How can anyone stand to be in your presence?”

“And yet here you are,” he reminded her, poking her in the stomach. “In my apartment.”

She looked around, her eyes taking in his furniture, his shelves of books, his artwork. “Why don’t you stay more often?”

He shrugged, unable to meet her gaze. “There is little for me to do here.” That was partially true. Why torture himself and sit around waiting on a female who had no interest in him? He wasn’t that much of a glutton for punishment. Elain stepped away, walking towards the wall length windows and pushing back the curtain. Gray, snowy clouds did little to hide the cheery day around them as fat snowflakes were carried along in a winter wind.

“I have been cruel,” she said after a moment. Lucien came up behind her, resting his hands on her delicate shoulders.

“Perhaps. But not without cause.”

She blinked, twisting her neck to look up at him. “It’s just a lot…even now.”

He nodded. “I could help, you know. I’m not your enemy.”

“What kind of help are you offering?” She asked as she turned around, letting him twine his arms around her body. His heart stuttered for a minute. Pretty, she was so pretty—

“Whatever help you’d like,” he managed to choke out. Elain smiled slyly.

“What if the help I want has nothing to do with being made?”

He was going to die, he thought. He cleared his throat. “Could you be more specific?”

She was mocking him. “I often struggle with the laces of my dresses, for example.” She gestured towards the back of her gown, neatly laced with a golden ribbon. Easily undone, he thought, his fingers twitching. It would take one pull to have her dress pooled at her feet. He brought his face closer to hers, well aware that his thoughts were likely not well aligned with what she really needed. Time. Space. Room to get to know not just him but herself.

“Sounds like you need a friend,” he murmured, brushing his lips across hers before dropping his arms and stepping away. She huffed a sigh.

“Do you treat all ladies so poorly?” She demanded. Lucien was back on the couch, legs stretched out as he willed himself to calm down.

“Only the ones I like,” he replied with a grin. Elain plopped down beside him and took his hand, much as she’d done the night before.

“Lucien?”

He’d never tire of hearing her say his name. “Yes, Elain?” She scooted a little closer, her eyes locked on his. She was looking at the scar, he realized. Panic flooded into his throat.

“I lied when I said you were ugly,” she confessed. He exhaled the breath he’d been holding. “And I like the scars. You’re beautiful.”

He reached for her chin, caressing her sweet face. Lowering his mouth to hers, Lucien told her, “Ah, well. It takes one to know one, now doesn’t it?”

[dragon-kazansky]

Dangerous | Helmut Zemo

AU! Race car driver Zemo 😎

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

[Masterlist]

[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]

Part 3

The next morning, after breakfast at the hotel, a call was made up to your room. It wasn't until you put the phone down that you realised you didn't have a way to contact Zemo. It was good he knew where you were staying. You would have to make sure to get his number later.

It felt strange to think about that. If he had your number, wouldn't that be like taking the next step? Were you getting carried away with this? Probably.

You couldn't ignore the fact you liked Zemo.

You never expected to develop a crush on a racing driver. It seemed like he liked you too, but you didn't want to get too carried away. This might very end up being a one time thing.

You make your way down to the lobby. Zemo is waiting for you. He looked so extra, but so stylish. A fur collared jacket, driving gloves, sunglasses on his head.

He turned when he heard you approach. His face lit up with a smile as you got closer to him.

"Good morning."

"Morning. You're looking smart today," you look him up and down, not so subtly checking him out. So much for trying to feel in that crush.

"Thought I would make an impression on you."

"You already did."

Zemo smiles at that. There was a proud feeling in knowing he had you hooked. Perhaps this would lead somewhere, but he would see. He didn't want to rush things and ruin any chances he may have with you.

He wouldn't do that.

"Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

Zemo leads you outside where another fabulous car is parked. You look at it, top to bottom. He can tell by your expression you're impressed.

"Just how many cars do you have?"

"Many. I could show you my collection if you like," he says, walking over to the car and opening the door for you.

You chuckle and climb in.

Zemo takes his sun glasses and puts them on as he gets into the drivers seat. He grins at you as he sets off.

You roll the window down and let the wind mess up your hair, wanting to feel that free feeling you got that first time. Even just sitting next to Zemo brought about all kinds of exciting feelings.

Zemo turned on the radio as he drove through the streets. There was a little drive to get to the garage his race car had been taken to. This gave him some time to bask in your company again.

He could get used to having you around all the time. In fact, he would love that.

Zemo considered himself more of a solo racer. Tony Stark always had fans hanging about, 'dates' in his stand watching him race. Zemo only ever had his pit crew waiting for him at the end of a race.

It was beautiful out. Even more so when you excited the town and got onto more open roads. You had no idea where he was taking you exactly, but you couldn't complain. if he got to see sights like this every day, that was amazing.

You glanced at him. He was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, in time to the music playing on the radio. He looked so relaxed and in his element.

Feeling your gaze on him, he turned to you with a grin.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. You just... look so at home."

He laughs, the sound joyous and wonderful. It makes your heart skip a beat.

"I live in the drivers seat."

You laugh with him.

"What do you say we speed this up? Just like last time," he peers at you over his shades.

"Alright. Thrill me."

You didn't need to say any more. He pushed his foot down on the pedal and you laughed as the car sped up. With such ease, the car glided down the road. Not another soul in sight as the scenery became a blur, just like that first day.

No rules. No restrictions. No Stark.

Just two people enjoying each others company on the open road. What more could a man ask for?

In the distance, you spot a building. That had to be where he was taking you.

"Where is this?"

"It's an old air strip. Hasn't been used in decades. I come here to drive often. I asked my team to bring the car here so we can take a look at it, thought you may also appreciate the area."

You smile.

"It's stunning. There's nothing else around for miles."

Knowing these roads like the back of his hand, he speeds up further, gliding along the rear of the way with ease. Your laughter just fuels him to go faster.

You reach the air strip in no time. He slows down on the approach and pulls up right outside the hanger. He gets out first and opens your door for you. You chuckle as you take his hand and climb out.

Even with your hair all wind struck, you look stunning to him. He won't tell you that though.

You both head inside.

There it is. His race car. He exterior looks pretty good, just scuffed from where Stark's car collided with it, but nothing too serious. The crew were busy working away on it as you both approached.

"Who's this?" A voice asks from your right.

"This is Y/N, my new friend," Zemo says, introducing you. "Y/N, this is Sam. He is very good with cars."

"Nice to meet you." You shake his hand.

"Likewise."

"What's the damage?" Zemo walks over to his car.

"The engine gave out. That's all."

"That's all? It cost me a win," Zemo narrows his gaze at Sam.

"It could have been a lot worse. We'll have it fixed in no time."

"Good. I need to win the next one, and the other two to beat Stark. He cannot win them all." Zemo stands upright after looking over his vehicle.

"Trust us, we're on it."

Zemo doesn't give him any more of a response and returns to your side.

"Want to look around a little?"

"Yes please."

He places an arm around your shoulder and guides you out of the hanger. You're blushing from his touch. It almost felt like you were made to fit against him like this.

You both go to stand near the car.

"How come you have such a big rivalry with Tony Stark?" You ask, gazing up at him.

"He doesn't like the idea that I'm better than him."

"Humble."

"Honest. Stark is an engineer and a genius. He can build a car from scratch. I know the ins and outs of cars. I know how to make them better, how to improve them. My cars are better than his, and he is threatened by it."

"Sounds petty."

Zemo shrugs. He is not ashamed to admit he is better than Stark. His whole vendetta is to prove it. He just doesn't have many chances left to do so.

"Aren't you worried?"

"No," he looks you in the eye, "I'm certain."

"Does nothing scare you?"

"Not yet."

There is no expression on his face. You have no idea what's going on inside that head of his. You knew he knew what he was doing. This was his job, his passion. That didn't mean the risks didn't apply to him.

For some reason, Stark's words came to mind. "He's dangerous." Not just on the track, he had said.

Was he?

Who was this man standing before you? His personal information was almost non existent online. Other than his racing background, there was nothing about him. You didn't even know where he was from. His accent suggested not from around here.

Did you dare ask?

No. You didn't want to. No matter how curious you were...

"Would you like me to drive you along the strip?" He asked, nodding across the field where you could see the straight road.

"Yes. Don't go easy on me."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he grins.

You both get into the car and he wastes no time in driving over to the strip. This car doesn't even remotely come close to his racing car, but he'd be damned if he didn't leave you thrilled after this.

He lines up perfectly. You hold on tight and smile at him.

Wheels screeching, whole body jerking, and nothing but the wind blowing through the window. With all his skill and precision, the car speeds up in handled ease. This man knows what he's doing.

You trust him with your life.

You wanted to thank your friend for bringing you to the races that day. If she hadn't, what would you be doing now? Working? Sitting at home? Studying?

Nothing nearly as amazing as this.

Zemo brought life into your world, and you didn't want it to end.

At the end of the runway, he turns the car with ease, though the power causes you to lean toward him as he turns the vehicle around. He almost reaches out for your hand, but focuses his attention on his driving. Back up you go.

He glances at you from the corner of his eye.

Could it be that there was one thing he wanted more than winning against Stark?

No, he didn't think so.

The car comes to a screeching halt at the end of the runway. Heaven knows how his tyres are doing.

You grin at him once the car stops.

"I'll never get tired of that."

He chuckles.

"That pleases me to hear."

Your phone rings. You apologise as you pick it up and answer it, disappointed it was ruining your fun.

"Hello?"

"Y/N? Hey, how was the race yesterday?" It was your friend.

"Oh, uh. It was good." You lied. It hadn't ended as you had hoped.

"Great. What time does your train get in tomorrow? I have something super exciting to share with you."

"About 2 o'clock I think."

"I'll be there to pick you up. Oh my gosh, you will not believe what's happened. I can barely contain myself. I'll speak to you soon."

She hangs up.

You stare at your phone, confused. She sounded super excited, whatever that was about.

"Problem?"

"Uh, no. Just my friend calling. She's going to pick me up from the train station tomorrow."

"I see. It's a shame you do not live locally. I would get to see you every day," he smiles.

You're blushing again.

"You'd get board of me really quickly," you say, tucking your phone away again.

"I doubt that."

"With your lifestyle? Definitely."

"I may live an exciting life, but you are a rare treasure any man would be lucky enough to have in his life."

"Are you flirting with me?" You ask, eyeing him suspiciously.

"That depends, is it working?"

You laugh.

"It might be."

"Then yes," he says, grinning like a fool.

You both sit there and laugh.

"Allow me to drop you off back at the hotel."

"I'd like that."

Much slower, he drives back to the hanger to alert the team he is leaving. They wave as you both leave.

The ride back is a lot more gentle, more casual. The radio is turned on, but the volume is low. Zemo is just basking in your presence.

He can't admit that he will miss you once you're gone.

The ride is over much sooner than he would have liked. Once again, you both sit there together.

You pull out your phone.

"Can I have your number?" You ask, biting the bullet.

He grins smugly.

"Already making a move?"

"Shush. Can I?"

He nods, taking your phone and putting his number into your contacts. You smile as you take it back, pretending his gloved fingers didn't brush against yours.

"I expect to hear from you," he says.

"I promise."

You go to get out, but he stops you by grabbing your arm lightly. You look at him, a little confused.

"Remember what I said."

"About what?" You ask.

"Come to the races, and I'll take you in a date."

You bite your lip.

"I haven't forgotten."

"Good."

He stays there until you've gone inside, out of sight. His phone suddenly feels heavy in his pocket, waiting for a text or call.

He was in deep, he just didn't know it yet.

He thinks of you as he drives off.

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @gingerwriter97 @lunamooney2406 @wilder-fangirl @nectav @whovianayesha @thesuitkovian @cathrin2405 @deathtothepatriarchy @belle82devart @dxrksxul06 @killeromanoff @alex-the-nb @latenightartist-author @hb8301 @goddessofmischief03 @xxidontwikeitxx @themeanestlittlewitch

[09kags]

Happy Haikyuu Day! 

Sorry for the bad quality first off T^T I keep having to resize these so that they’re smaller for Tumblr and it ruins the quality. But more importantly, happy Haikyuu day! (at least it is Japan already!) This edit embodies some of my favorite moments within the series and below, I’ve written some of the thoughts that went into this piece/my feelings on these moments! Manga spoilers ahead (I'm pretty sure I’ve kept them to a minimum but just to be sure, please proceed with caution!), and I hope you enjoy this edit! (Overlays: accio-glow, aulia-chan on dA; PSDs: hurtears, hallyumi, yangyanggg on dA) 1. “Today might finally be the day we get the chance to let our talents bloom… it could be tomorrow. Or maybe next year. Or maybe it’ll finally come when we’re 30. I’m not sure if physique has anything to do with it but I do know for sure that if you don’t believe that day will come, it never will.” This quote is a testament to Oikawa’s growth and is a symbolic representation of Oikawa freeing himself from the shackles of “geniuses” and “prodigies.” So what if your opponent is a genius? So what if they possess more innate talent? As his mentor and inspiration Jose Blanco states, “Are you saying you know what the limits of your abilities are already? Even though you aren’t yet finished growing physically or mentally? Even though you haven’t mastered all the skills you can master? If you’re going to complain that someone with more talent than you will always be better than you… no matter how hard you work, how many tricks you learn and how many great teammates you have… do that only after you’ve given everything the very best effort you have.” There will always be someone better in the world. But to claim that you cannot hope to compare to the likes of them is to resign yourself to a predetermined defeat as well as dismiss both your own efforts and theirs.    There’s no guarantee when your efforts will pay off. As Oikawa declares, it may be today, tomorrow, or even when we’re 30.  But if you don’t believe in yourself first, if you don’t believe that you will bloom in your own time, “that day will never come.”  The flower in the background is the iris. It is known to represent trust, faith, and hope amongst many other ideals. I chose this particular flower because of the manga cap used in this panel. I cannot emphasize how much I love the bond between Oikawa and Iwaizumi, especially this particular moment when Oikawa points at Iwaizumi with such authority and determination as if saying, “This ball, this moment, is meant for you.” Not to mention the pairing with the iconic “Talent is something you make bloom, instinct is something you hone” quote. An absolutely masterful sequence of scenes that always gets my blood rushing. 

2. “Don’t look down! Volleyball is a sport where you’re always looking up!” This moment gives me chills every time. It’s something so fundamental and simple and yet, when Ukai yells this,  it instills that feeling of “You can do it.” It makes my heart flutter and I feel so excited because it’s such a beautiful way of saying “Don’t give up, it’s not over yet.” And even if the ball has dropped for the last time or you have lost this match, there’s always tomorrow. There’s always the next match where you’ll have to look up. This quote gives me the same feeling as when Takeda-sensei says, “For the rest of your lives, you can do anything you set your mind to!” You only truly lose when you stop trying or you give up.  3. “It hurts. I’m tired. This is painful. I don’t want this to ever end.” / “The ball hasn’t dropped yet!” Whenever Haikyuu characters say “Just one more!” or “The ball hasn’t dropped yet!”, the tension and desperation is almost palpable. It’s so incredibly moving to see them strive to save that ball just one more time, to focus purely on what is in front of them. Even if they don’t all pursue volleyball as a professional career, the passion they all have for the sport is real. That sort of passion is beautiful to watch and admire, and I wish I could have that kind of passion for something in my life.  4. “The underhand only uses two hands. The overhand uses 10 fingers. That’s all the more to support your spikers with, which is what it means to be a setter.” / “To cut through the wall that looms before your spikers, that is the purpose of a setter.”  This particular panel depicts the two ideologies of Atsumu and Kageyama respectively, two of my favorite setters and characters in general. Atsumu “may be pretty cocky at times, and overwhelm his teammates with his thirst for victory, but he treats his spikers with more sincerity and selflessness than anyone else.” He may be overbearing and an asshole at times, but his love for the sport and the art of being a setter is second to none. On the other hand, there’s Kageyama who’s so damn cool with his one-liners. Kageyama’s passion and drive to win may blind him to his surroundings and teammates but he truly believes that the setter is the one who clears the path for their spikers. When their spikers feel cornered and the walls are closing in, it is the setter who “cuts through the wall that looms” ahead. The old Kageyama who was a prisoner to speed is no longer, and his growth as a player brings me to tears every time.  5. “Someone once asked me, ‘Do you ever feel bitter over the fact that you’re not a regular on the team, and amongst your juniors there’s a genius to boot?’ I never understood the exact definition of what it was to be a genius to begin with, but upon hearing the question, I understood the general gist of what they were getting at.  Every so often there will be someone who thinks that ‘people like Atsumu’ were ‘good’ from the get-go. But the thing is, if I practiced something from 1-10 every day, then people like Atsumu would have done it from 1-20. Or, they would have done the same 10 but in a more efficient or concentrated manner. They might also ask ‘Instead of doing it 1-10, how about I tried it from A-Z, what would happen then? Now doesn’t that sound interesting?’  They’re the kind of people who think about stuff like that. Even if they fail, even if they are hated and get ostracised by others, no matter whether they’re right or they’re wrong, even if they subvert something the rest of us hold in high regard, they’re the kind of people who can’t sit still without giving it a go. Even if they start coughing up blood from their lungs, they’re the kind of people who want to keep on running, no matter what.  There’s going to be a lot of people in this world who make you go ‘Wow, I’ll never be able to defeat them,’ and it’s only natural that you think they’re amazing people. I think that to be able to keep charging ahead is a talent in and of itself. You can call people like them whatever you like, the term ‘genius’ isn’t exactly an insult. That said, to think they were ‘good from the get go’ is to condemn yourself to a predetermined defeat without even playing a match against them, and I also think it’s very rude.”  This quote, hands down, is one of my favorite quotes of all time. It is not genius or natural talent that makes individuals truly great, but it is grit. Without a doubt, people are not born equal. There will always be someone with more innate talent or latent capabilities. We all begin at different starting lines. But those who truly stand out are those who go the extra mile, like those dubbed to be the Monster Generation (Kageyama, Atsumu, Hinata, Bokuto, Ushijima, Oikawa, etc.). To others they may seem like natural prodigies but behind their flawless technique and precise ball control lies countless hours of training. They trained harder than anyone else, sacrificed in order to hone their abilities, and ran farther than the rest of the pack. They’re the type to fixate on what lies before them without much regard to anything else.They eat, sleep, breathe, and live volleyball with every waking second. They’re always trying new things (Atsumu pulling off the freak duo quick in the middle of the Inarizaki match) and continually looking for ways to improve (“But the thing is, if I practiced something from 1-10 every day, then people like Atsumu would have done it from 1-20. Or, they would have done the same 10 but in a more efficient or concentrated manner. They might also ask ‘Instead of doing it 1-10, how about I tried it from A-Z, what would happen then? Now doesn’t that sound interesting?’ They’re the kind of people who think about stuff like that”; Kageyama keeping a volleyball journal). It is not what they were born with that makes them great; it is their overwhelming desire to win.  6. “‘Yesterday’ has already disappeared behind us. Many, many yesterdays have become a part of our muscles. What shall we do, today?” This quote, chills. There’s no point ruminating about the past or what has already passed; you can’t change it. (In retrospect, I wish I included another quote from Inarizaki in this panel: “One time is enough. We rise to the challenges of today.”) You learn from the mistakes of yesterday and use them as stepping stones for tomorrow. I wish I could eloquently phrase how much I love this quote or my interpretation of it but alas, my writing is fancy Garbage.  7. “But if… just if… that moment comes for you, that will be the moment you really get hooked on volleyball.” If you didn’t get chills when Tsukishima blocks Ushijima, I have no words for you. Tsukishima-it’s-just-a-club Kei, Tsukishima-I’m-the-normal-guy Kei — Tsukishima Kei, who always underestimates his own capabilities and relies on what he can see in front of him, blocking the Ushijima Wakatoshi, one of the top three high school aces nationally. The character development from someone who did the bare minimum (as noted by other players/coaches at one of the training camps) to someone who finally had their moment to get hooked on volleyball is one of my favorite progressions of all time. Seeing him fall in love with volleyball gradually and then all at once is truly heartwarming and beautiful to witness.  8. “No matter what other people may say, we are the protagonists of the world.” This quote is incredibly empowering to me. Even if your days consist of mundane activities, you are the protagonist of your own story every day. You may not be the main character in a shounen manga or an adolescent seeking to usurp the government in a dystopian novel, but this is your story. No one can tell it like you do and no one can replicate your story. It is yours and yours only.  And that concludes my Haikyuu word vomit! I really do wish I could have properly conveyed my pure adoration and love for this series better. I truly do love Haikyuu so very, very much. It will always have a special place in my heart and I will never forget the memories and lessons it has taught me! Thank you, Furudate-sensei, for such a beautiful story. And thank you Haikyuu, for everything. For all the losses and victories we shared. For all the smiles and laughter, and for all the tears we shed. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. 

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff/Reader - Land of Thieves - #ChapterThree

Gif is not mine got from google, idk who made it but i truly appreciate it.

Read on AO3 (EN) ///// Ler no AO3 (PT)

Summary:  When you were a child, you swore that no matter how high the reward in your head, she could always count on you. Life as an outlaw in the west is not easy, but you believe that train robberies are still easier than asking a pretty girl to dance. Land of Thieves, also know as your love story with Wanda Maximoff in the Wild West.

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit violence

"Howard Stark, the oil millionaire, has exclusively revealed to The Saint Denis Times, details of his new investment in the Heartlands in New Hanover" 

You heard Steve read the contents out loud to you. You were sitting in his tent, leaning your back against the wood that held the tent upright. Peggy and Bucky were standing, while you and the twins were sitting on the ground, all listening intently to the captain's words.

- And then they narrate information about where the meeting will take place, and even the time Stark will be negotiating! - exclaims Steve.

- Rich people are stupidly confident. - Bucky comments, and everyone laughs briefly. 

- The problem is who else will have the same idea as us. - You tell Steve, and he puts his hand to his chin thoughtfully. - With this information in the newspaper, a lot of people will be aware of the amount of money coming into Saint Denis.

- We have some advantages. - Peggy says. - Mainly the location. And besides, this kind of work will only be targeted by the bigger gangs. Who do we know that is in this area?

Steve runs his hands through his hair, and closes his eyes, as if trying to remember something. He exclaims after a moment.

- Where was the last time you heard of the Panthers? - He asks Bucky, who shrugs his shoulders.

- Three years ago. - replies the man. - They don't rob banks, Steve.

- That's even better then. - Steve says, but then turns to you. - Our only problem will be the O'Driscolls, they are the only ones who know we are in this area and have enough people for the job.

You exchanged a look with Pietro, and he nodded slightly. You sighed before you spoke:

- They' re not the only ones who know we're in the area. - You confessed and everyone, except Pietro, looked at you with surprise and curiosity. You felt quite embarrassed. - I had a little disagreement with Lemoyne Raiders yesterday afternoon.

Steve frowned at you, but you held his gaze. You did what you had to do to protect Pietro after all.

- Define exactly what kind of misunderstanding.

- We killed fifteen of them. - Cut Pietro off, and Steve looked at you in disbelief. Wanda also looked quite shocked.

- You went into a gunfight with a shoulder wound? - Steve looked at you seriously. - Have you completely lost your mind?

- She was helping me. - Pietro stood up, but he sounded almost embarrassed when he said it: - I got caught cheating.

- You must be joking. - Wanda's voice sounded and you watched her stand up and pinch her brother hard on the arm. Pietro complained with a groan. 

Steve massaged his forehead impatiently.

- You guys are unbelievable. - He grumbled, and Peggy patted him on the back as she stood up, signaling him to sit down. 

- Here's what we're going to do. - She began to speak in a calm but authoritative tone. Steve and I are going to set up the whole bank scheme, and we're going to find a way to use the O'Driscolls against themselves, in case they get the idea to rob Stark as well. I'll send Maria to find out about it. Wanda and Monica go to Limpany, find out if any Raiders are left alive to describe what these two look like, or if anyone is willing to talk. 

- What about both of us? - Pietro asks, pointing at himself and at you.

- Potts always needs help in the kitchen. - Informs Peggy and you both let out a groan of discontent

Pietro grumbles slightly irritated - We are no longer children to be grounded. 

- The first step is to stop your childish attitudes then. - Peggy replies, with an almost ironic expression. - Why don't you try to behave like Wanda, she went to get her engagement present and remembered to bring a newspaper with vital information!

Feeling your face getting very hot, you grumbled loudly " for heaven's sake" as the "adults" laughed at Peggy's insinuation. Tucking your face into your knees in embarrassment, you ignored the giggles. Wanda also blushed a lot, but you didn't notice from the position you were in.

The meeting ended shortly after, with Bucky signaling that he would be in charge of the weapons, as he usually was, as well as being the one with the sniper rifle, providing support from a distance.

You hurried back to your tent, since Pietro was frowning at the punishment, and Wanda had to go to Limpany later today. You watched her walk toward Carol's tent, where Maria and Monica were staying, as they refused to leave Carol's bedside until the woman was better, and then you looked away as Monica left with Wanda toward the horses.

Lying on your bed for several minutes, staring at the ceiling, you were startled to feel something being thrown against your body. Blinking in confusion, you picked up the object. It was some kind of luggage, you recognized as you turned. Then you looked at the two-letter border and turned your head quickly to the place from which it had been thrown.

Jumping out of bed, you almost tripped on the carpet, but kept your balance before throwing both arms around your friend, hugging her tightly. Nat laughed, but returned the squeeze.

- I missed you too. - She mumbled into your hair. You laughed, pulling away to look at her for a moment, before depositing several kisses on her cheek, making her laugh. It had been a habit of yours to greet her this way after long trips since you were little. - What happened while I was away?

She asked as soon as you let go. 

- I'm grounded. - You shrugged, she raised her eyebrow.

- But you're too old for grounding now. - she joked. - Sorry, actually it starts tomorrow. - She sneered with irony, but you still laughed.

The two of you sat down on your bed, you placing Nat's luggage on the floor while crossing your legs as you sat down. She took off her boots and stretched her legs against your lap, letting her feet dangle, you played with the fabric of her pants in the area of her shins.

- How are you? - she asked after a moment. - You look different.

You grimaced. - Different?

- Tired I guess. - She explained. You shrug. Nat was always very good at reading you, well everyone else was in a way. Subtlety was not your strong suit.

- Well, this must be the quietest moment I have had in weeks. - You joked, but Nat frowned. 

- I thought things would be quieter here. The south is less wild, isn't it? 

You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking a little.

- I don't know, Nat. Everywhere there is someone who wants to shoot us.

- Where did you get this? - She asked after a moment, you looked at her, and realized that she was signaling with her eyes the wound on your shoulder. You gave her a sideways smile.

- In a fight I didn't have to buy. - You sneer and then add. - It was an ambush a few miles away.

-Is that why Peggy punished you? - she questioned, and you laughed.

- Oh no. I am grounded for getting into a shootout with a local gang, all because of a card game.

Nat blinked for a few seconds.

- I'll pretend you didn't say that.

You laughed at her expression and she nudged you, muttering something like "idiot," which made you smile more. 

- But how about you, did you manage to find what you were looking for?

- Of course, sweetheart. - said the girl in a smug tone, and you rolled your eyes, smiling. - I was going to tell the captain how things are in New Austin, but when I passed his tent he had a serious expression and a hand on his head, as if he had a migraine. I knew right away that I had to talk to you first.

- He was worried that yesterday's fight would jeopardize the plan. - You said.

- I think he was worried about you. 

You looked away, not knowing what to say. A moment passed in silence, until Nat nudged your leg lightly with her finger, a mischievous look on her face.

- I brought a present for the birthday girl. - She joked, making you laugh uncomfortably. - But I don't think you'll care much.

You frowned and asked her why in a confused tone. Nat laughed before adding:

- Another redhead is going to take all your attention, as far as I know. - She teased, and you looked away, blushing at the insinuation.

- Everyone decided to tease me about it all of a sudden. - You grumbled, making Nat laugh.

- Because it's fun. - She retorted, and you just crossed your arms. Seeing your embarrassed face, she lifted one of her legs, only to push your face away with her foot. You let out a loud exclamation, laughing as she pushed you away.

You spent the afternoon together, playing and talking. You were not impressed by how much you missed Natasha, after all, you had always been very close. Being a few years older, she joined the gang a few months after you, and a year before the twins. Peggy was the one who found her, you knew that she had no family and that she had run away from a convent in Saint Denis just as you had run away from an orphanage when you were a child; the difference was that Nat was already fourteen when she did. And then she joined the gang, and became a kind of big sister to you. 

When Nat left your tent to go talk to Steve about the information she got from New Austin, you decided to get out of bed for a while. Walking over to the campfire, you felt a twinge of pain as you felt an arm rest on your injured shoulder, and Pietro quickly apologized, changing his position only to leave his hand under your healthy shoulder.

- What is it, Pietro? - You asked him.

- I wanted to apologize. - He spoke clumsily, and you looked at him in confusion. He looked down at the floor. - For your birthday, you know, I got you stuck here because of Limpany.

You punched him lightly in the stomach, smiling.

- Don't be an idiot. - You said. - You know I don't care about birthdays, and besides, we take care of each other.

Pietro smiled pushing you lightly with his hand on your shoulder as he agreed with his head, his cheeks flushed.

- I'll make sure we do something fun at least. - He said as he walked beside you to the fire. He looked around, as if thinking of some activity. - Maybe Potts will let us go fishing.

- Is this your idea of fun? - You scoffed as you sat down by the fire. Actually, you liked fishing, but you didn't miss opportunities to mess with your friends. Pietro laughed, sitting down beside you.

- I meant you, me, and Wanda. - He joked, but you refused to look at him. - Unless of course you prefer I stay here.

- I'm not saying anything. - You grumbled, grabbing a stick out of the grass to stir against the embers of the fire. Pietro just laughed at your grumpy posture.

It didn't take long for Potts to get your attention, asking for help with the supply wagon. You and Pietro were in charge of peeling vegetables for the next few hours.

On the morning of your birthday, you woke up to someone jumping on you. Honestly, you were more surprised to realize that the bed could withstand the commotion than to watch Natasha wake you up excitedly. She was always so loud when she knew she was annoying you.

You thanked her for the gesture by pushing her off the bed, and laughed when you heard her fall on her ass on the floor, complaining that you were a brute. You stretched your body and then stood up, intending to wash your face. 

Steve came over to greet you as soon as you left your tent, and he had a gentle smile on his face.

- Happy birthday, Y/N. - He spoke as he gave her a short hug. - Let's celebrate tonight, shall we?

You nodded, embarrassed by the attention. You spent the next few minutes getting hugs and compliments from everyone. When Pietro gave you a tight hug, you laughed, watching him get a mischievous expression as he held a package in front of you.

- Get ready for my amazing gift. - He said, waving his right hand over the box, imitating a gesture of suspense. 

- Ready I am. - You jokingly replied. 

Grabbing the package, you opened it carefully, appreciating that he had taken the time to wrap everything. You let out a surprised sigh as you looked at the new set and sheet of classic playing cards. Opening the deck, you looked at the details on the cards, impressed with the quality of the edition, noticing that it was one of those special versions, with gold scratches, and you let out a giggle of excitement when you saw the acrylic sticker that came along with the set. It was a collectible card, and on this one you saw the picture of "Erik Lehnsherr", the famous German gambler.

- I loved it, Pietro. Thank you. - You said to him, hugging him by the shoulders. 

- We are all going to enjoy this present. - Nat added, smiling at you both. You laughed, putting the set back in the box, you would replace your old one as soon as you got back to your room.

Nat also had something in her hands, but she didn't wrap it, probably because of the rush of the trip, but you loved it anyway. She had a mischievous smile when she lifted the bottle to her face.

- Scotch whisky, miss, limited edition 1802. - She narrated in a voice that made you laugh a little. You kissed her cheek and hugged her tight.

- Thank you, Nat. - You said when you let go of her, she just smiled at you.

Waving to you, Natasha left in the direction of Steve's hut, she probably needed her chores assigned to her. Pietro asked you if you wanted to join him in hunting some rabbits and you said you were just going to get your rifle.

Bucky stopped you on your way out of your tent.

- I also have a present for you. - he said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

You smiled, grabbing the package he handed you. Hanging the rifle on your healthy shoulder, you tore the ribbon from the gift, opening it carefully. You looked at your new scout jacket, the brown fabric glistening in your eyes. 

- Oh, Bucky, I love it. - You tell him, looking at him tenderly. Bucky looks slightly embarrassed, but hugs you tight.

- I thought that one was getting small. - He comments, pointing at your clothes. It was an affectionate comment, since he was also the one who had given you the jacket you were wearing several years ago.

He smiled at you one last time before leaving. And you went back inside the tent only to leave the jacket on your bed, not wanting to get it dirty during the hunt, and intending to wear it later. 

Pietro was waiting for you at Knight's side, but you reminded him that you were only allowed to hunt on the outskirts of the camp. He rolled his eyes, but agreed, and you walked together toward the hunting area.

It didn't take long for each of you to hunt two rabbits, the animals were plentiful in the area, and even though Pietro was not as good a hunter as he was a thief, he still knew how to shoot.

You knocked his hat playfully, and he laughed at you. You walked back to camp amid giggles and playful shoving, while you bet on who could get there first.

You left the carcasses in the wagon destined for the skinning, and you let out a surprised exclamation when you saw Thor behind the counter.

- Why are you already up? - you asked in a worried tone. The man just smiled at you.

- I wasn't going to miss your birthday, kid. - He replies, and then gives a small pat against his own chest, where you watched him get shot a week ago - Besides, I'm healing quickly. I should be back in action soon.

- I'm glad to see you feeling better, Thor. - You told him and he just nodded, picking up one of the carcasses you and Pietro had left and beginning to skin it.

You and Peter were walking back to the kitchen when Potts just pointed to the creek, signaling for you both to clean yourselves up. You both exchanged an amused look, and giggling, walked towards the water to wipe the rabbit's blood off your hands.

- Do you know when Wanda will be back from Limpany? - You let the question slip and Pietro gave you an insinuating "you can't even hide it" look, and you felt your cheeks heat up a little. He shrugged.

- Actually, she was supposed to come back last night. - He said, not looking worried. - Maybe she and Monica decided to wait a little longer to see if anyone who had seen us would show up.

You grumbled in agreement, without really thinking about it, and then, as you finished wiping away the blood that remained between your fingers, the possibility hit you.

- Pietro. - You called out to him, and he looked at you curiously as he noticed your frown. - Do two women alone in a city that makes money from brothels sound like a safe idea to you?

Pietro blinked in confusion.

- But Wanda and Monica are scary. - He retorted, and you almost agreed, until you remembered.

- Not when they're disguised as society ladies. - You spoke up, feeling a sense of panic settle in your stomach at the possibility that Wanda was in danger. 

You stood up at the same moment as Pietro, and he nodded towards Potts, who seemed distracted by the inventory of the supply wagon.

Sneaking through the woods beside the camp, you grabbed the reins of Knight as quietly as you could while pulling him into the woods, with Pietro and his horse at your side. When you reached a more remote area, you quickly mounted your horses and headed toward Limpany.

- Damn it, Y/N, I hope you are wrong about this. - Pietro said with a worried look on his face. You swallowed dryly, wishing you were.

Limpany was noisy and busy. You let out a low groan as you noticed the several wagons parked at the entrance, a symbol of an oil company painted on each one.

- I think Stark's employees have just arrived at the Heartlands. - You said to Pietro as you tied your horses against a fallen log at the entrance to Limpany.

- Interesting choice for the first stop. - He mentioned it in an ironic tone. You smiled. 

- Wanna bet that half of them are married? - You said in a tone of irony and irritation. Pietro nodded, accepting the bet.

You signaled for him to adjust his hat, to hide as much of his face as possible. But judging by the number of strangers in town at the moment, you would hardly be recognized. Even in daylight, there were a considerable number of prostitutes on the streets, snuggled up against various men. You looked around trying to spot Wanda or Monica, but were unable to find them. You noticed that there were several horses tied up in front of the Brothel, and the Saloon and nudged Pietro on the shoulder.

- I think we'll need to look inside the brothel and the saloon. - You warned him and he nodded his head in agreement as he noticed the horses. - If we split up, we can find them faster.

Pietro turned his head to you quickly with a frown.

- Not a chance. - He denied it, and seeing that you were going to try to argue, he added: - You have a bruised shoulder, I'm not leaving you alone.

You sighed in agreement, knowing that he was right. It wouldn't help if you ended up getting hurt more.

- Let's try the brothel first. - you said, walking toward the building. A sign on the door caught Pietro's attention, and he poked you on the arm to make you read the "No weapons" sign.

- That's a problem . - He said, and you pushed him aside, blocking the view of anyone leaving the brothel for him. You took off the belt with the holster and handed it to him.

- You keep it then. - You grumbled, and he looked at you with confusion.

- Why am I the one who has to wait? 

- Because you're a pretty boy, honey. - You sneer, and he continues with the same confused expression. - You walk into this brothel with no one with you, and ten harlots will jump on you, very much in search of what's in your wallet.

He sighed and shrugged, knowing that you were right. That didn't stop him from retorting:

- It's not like the girls aren't going to jump on you too. 

- The difference is that I have a few minutes head start before they realize that I don't work here.

- Next time, wear a dress and you'll get a free pass. - teased Pietro, and you just pushed him away with amusement.

- Well, wish me luck. - You said, flashing him a nervous smile. 

You heard Pietro whisper a "good luck" to you when you were already on the stairs, and then you went in. There was a counter, but judging by the number of customers, there must have been a total rush in the place, and you took advantage of the lack of a receptionist to sneak up the wooden stairs to the second floor.

You saw a lot of things you didn't want to see, from the breasts of strangers, to men with their swinging cocks on display. Occasionally you bumped into half-naked people, and watched with some amusement as a man was kicked out of the room with his pants down. It was a chaotic environment to say the least, and you didn't worry about being recognized, as there didn't seem to be any harlots available to notice you.

The most embarrassing part was checking the rooms. After the fifth open door where you interrupted somebody's fucking, you let out an impatient grumble as you walked to the end of the hall. Then the coat hanging in the corner of the door caught your attention. The sheriff's badge glowing prominently against the cloth.

You opened the door next, surprised to find only the sheriff, naked and asleep. You went into the room and started to look around for some more interesting information. Then you heard footsteps against the wood, and as you turned around, the vision took your breath away.

Wanda was wearing a simple purple dress, the corset marking her silhouette. She pinned up her hair, and applied a little make-up, highlighting her lips and her emerald orbs. Suddenly you couldn't formulate a sentence. 

She looked at you with a mixture of concern and seriousness, closing the bedroom door.

- What are you doing here? - She asked in a low tone, and it took you a considerable moment to be able to think of the answer. You worried that she might think you had hit your head.

- You were gone a long time. Pietro and I thought...

- Pietro is here? - she exclaimed and looked quickly at the sheriff who had moved slightly.

- Sorry, we thought you guys were in trouble.

Wanda looked quickly at you, and then shifted the weight of her feet, before walking towards the small dresser in the room.

- We were in trouble. - She confessed and you straightened your posture at the information, feeling your chest fill with concern. - That's why I brought him here.

You felt your cheeks heat up a little and swallowed the bad feeling in your stomach. 

- I think you did what you had to do. - You grumbled, and Wanda frowned at you. When she understood what you were implying, she let out a nasal laugh.

- I didn't have sex with him, my God! - She clarifies and you blink in surprise, relief replacing the bad feeling from before. - I just lied and said I would. And then when he got here, I hit him over the head.

- Oh, right. Got it. - You nod, looking at the ground. 

- We ended up in trouble, though. Those men from the factory, they've been surrounding us all night. 

- Why didn't you go back to the camp? 

- Because he said he would report you and Pietro. - Wanda explains, pointing at the fainted sheriff. You shake your head, confused. The redhead walks over to the bedside table and pulls out two wanted posters, each with a drawing very similar to your and Pietro's face. 

- I don't understand, Wands. - You sigh. - Tell me everything from the beginning.

- Y/N, the one thing you need to understand is that this town is involved in a lot of shit that goes way beyond a local gang. - Wanda pushed you slightly to the right, bending down toward the sheriff. He didn't wake up when she cut a golden key from the necklace he was wearing. You looked at her curiously. - We're going to need this to free Monica.

- Monica's in jail? - You exclaimed, and Wanda gave you a wry smile.

- It was a temporary incident.

Wanda grumbled, but then you heard the door slowly open, and she assumed a serious expression. Before you could turn around, Wanda pulled you forward by the arm, and you felt your heart race as your bodies came closer together. And then you held your breath as you felt her slip both arms around your waist, wrapping her arms around you. Wanda wrapped her face around your neck, pressing your body against hers. You let out a deep groan, and barely registered the words coming from a voice in the doorway:

- Sweetie, are you using this room? 

Wanda made sure to press against your body with her arms and keep her face against your neck as she answered.

- Clearly.

The other woman laughed despite Wanda's harsh reply, and you thought she whispered "enjoy it" before she left, but you weren't sure of anything anymore.

Wanda's body seemed to warm against yours when you were alone, and you decided to face the window at the far end of the room, to keep your body from not obeying your reason.

Wanda released you softly, and you felt her hands slide down your spine and then back to your front, until she released you completely. She took a step back, her cheeks flushed and her gaze on the floor.

- Sorry about that. - She whispered without looking up. You felt your face flush.

- I never imagined that our first time in a brothel would be like this. - The only stupid comment your brain could formulate came out of your mouth before you could control it. You wouldn't judge Wanda if she never spoke to you again after that ridiculous joke, but she didn't care. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she said:

- And how did you imagine it would be?

You almost said "less clothes", almost. In reality you just choked in surprise and felt your knees weaken at the intensity of her gaze. But then the moment was broken when you heard a banging sound on the windowpane. You frowned at Pietro, who was standing outside.

- Tell me you're not hanging over the edge. - You complain as you open the window.

- Of course not, I don't know how to climb buildings. - He replies with amusement. - I found a ladder.

Wanda slaps Pietro on the head, looking at him seriously.

- You two have completely lost your minds. - She says. - Great idea to go back to the same place where they tried to kill you.

- Look little sister, you are being very ungrateful. - he debated stubbornly. - And why am I the only one getting beaten? It was your girlfriend who came up with the idea.

You grumbled at the nickname, and closed the window in Pietro's face. You didn't look at Wanda as you picked up the wanted posters and the key to the jail from the floor, but when you noticed her confused expression, you grabbed her by the hand, pulling her out of the room and toward the exit of the brothel.

You went around the building, finding Pietro on the opposite side from where you had left him. In his presence, you remembered to let go of Wanda's hand, and didn't notice the almost disappointed look she got when you did.

- Monica is in jail. - You tell Pietro, who looks at you in surprise. You hand him the key.  - I need a drink. - You announce as you leave for the saloon. 

When you get to the bar, you notice that it is as crowded as the brothel, but the people here are more focused on who drinks more than who gets laid more. You stand in the far corner and wait for the bartender to serve you. You feel a slight burning sensation on your shoulder, and as you reach out to touch the bandage, you groan as you feel them wet with blood. 

You buy a whiskey, and pour three shot glasses full into your mouth, feeling your throat burn. You can barely feel the bruise now.

Preparing a fourth glass, you let out a mixed exclamation of surprise and pain when someone pulls you by the shoulder, turning you around.

- I know you! - says the unknown man, clearly drunk. You try to argue, but he starts shouting. - Yes, yes! You shot those guys!

He is starting to draw unwanted attention, and you really hope that everyone is too drunk to notice anything. Before you can push him away, someone pulls him off you. 

You watch in shock as Wanda lands a clean punch to the man's jaw, and he staggers for a few seconds before falling onto a table. As he falls, chaos ensues and suddenly people start fighting among themselves. You always hated bar fights. Wanda quickly pulls you out and you both duck and dodge a thrown chair just before you walk out the door.

- Thanks for that, I guess. - You tell her, letting yourself be pulled toward the horses by the hand.

Pietro and Monica are already there, waiting for you. You notice that Pietro seems almost shy around the other woman, and you make a mental note to tease him about this at another time.

- Let's go before you cause a second shooting in this place. - Wanda says, and she gives your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go, which leaves you with a tingling sensation. 

- It's good to see you, by the way. - You say to Monica as soon as you mount the Knight's cell. Monica smiles at you, saying that it was very good to see you too.

- Race to camp? - suggests Pietro, and you all exchange mischievous glances before you speed up the gallop of your horses. Your laughter mingles with the wind as you ride at high speed.

Pietro won the race, typical you thought. Since he was a child, he was as fast on foot as he was on horseback. But even though you lost, you enjoyed the ride, laughing with your friends as you dismounted from your horses. Wanda and Monica entered the camp first, and you and Pietro snuck out the back, not wanting to be seen running away from punishment. You were very lucky that Potts believed you were just playing fight at the far end of the creek, as you and Pietro used to do when you were kids.

You walked around the camp, feeling extremely tired, and then you remembered that you hadn't really rested for a long time. Sighing, you found a space under a tree high enough to provide some shadow, and sat down. Putting your hat in front of your face, you thought about closing your eyes for a moment.

Feeling a gentle pressure on your feet, you were startled awake. Blinking in confusion at the dark, you realized that your hat was on your face. Removing it as you let out a yawn, you looked around in confusion as you realized that you had been asleep for a few hours, judging by the color of the sky, which already signaled sunset.

Nat smiled at you as she watched you adjust to your surroundings, and she offered her hand to help you stand up.

- You have a bed, you know. - She teased, and you just gave her a corner smile, wiping some of the grass off your pants.

- I was just going to take a nap. - You retorted as you walked towards your hut, Nat not following you, as you noticed the bucket full of fish she was carrying.

- A six-hour nap. - She teases, drawing a quick laugh from you. She turns in the opposite direction, dumping the bucket on Thor's cart, who is the one who usually skins the animals that arrive at the camp. You go into your tent, looking for some clean clothes.

You don't smell so bad, but you decide to take a bath anyway, after all you have been in a fight today. You remember to grab your new jacket before you leave for the deeper part of the stream, where everyone usually bathes.

Arriving at the edge of the creek, you leave your clothes on the high part of the grass, so they don't get wet, and begin to undress. You are already without your boots and blouse, ready to unbutton your pants when Pietro pushes you into the water.

- Really? - You exclaim in a mixture of irritation and humor, while he laughs. You think he is an idiot, but you laugh too. 

Pietro pulls his own shirt over his head, and then quickly takes off his pants and shoes. He takes a few steps back and then runs, jumping into the creek, and splashing water everywhere on impact. You laugh as he pretends to drown.

- Since when do you shower often, now? - You tease him by getting out of the water to take off your wet pants. Pietro pretends to laugh.

- I'm a very clean boy, if you ask me. - He retorts, splashing water in his face.

You pretend to agree, grimacing. He rolls his eyes at you. You assume a suggestive expression, and nod for him to look away. He laughs, but turns away so that you can remove your underwear. 

It was common for you to shower with other members of the team, especially with those who grew up with you: Wanda, Pietro, Monica and Nat. Much because you had been doing this since you were children. Besides that, living in an outlaw camp, it was all about sharing. It was funny to think that if you were not who you are, or if someone from the outside saw the life you were leading, you would probably be forced to marry Pietro now. It was nice to have that level of intimacy with someone, but you can't help but think that it wasn't the same showering with Pietro, as it was with Wanda. Everything was different with Wanda, but it was also the same. You couldn't explain it.

You become quiet as you get lost in your thoughts, and Pietro splashes some water on your face, causing you to let out an irritated exclamation. 

- You were making that strange face again. - He jokes, while lowering himself into the water. You only realize that he is taking off his own underwear when he throws the recently removed, completely soaked item onto the grass.

- What face? 

- your "I'm overthinking things" face. - He explains with an amused expression.

- I don't know what you're talking about. - You retort, looking away, he rolls his eyes, and you are silent again. You rub some of the soap you brought on your body before handing it to Pietro.

- I reckon you think too much. - He grumbles, and you let out a wry laugh.

- It's kind of the function of our heads, you know.

He laughs as he rinses his hair.

- I meant that you don't have to do this. - He says. - You can just act, you know.

- No, Pietro. I don't know. - You grumble, not really understanding what he was saying. He dips his head in the creek to clean the soap, and then walks away from you, leaving the soap on top of the little wooden box where it is usually kept.

- I mean that if you keep thinking about what you have to do, you'll miss the chance to do something. - He says, coming back to you. - If there is something you really want to do, just do it. Don't think about it so much, because when you make that expression, I know you're finding a thousand reasons not to do what you want to do.

- What if I want to punch you in the face? - You tease him, feeling nervous about the direction of the conversation. Pietro laughs at your attempt to divert the subject.

- As if you needed to think about it. - He says, grumbling, and then he assumes that serious expression, but his eyes are tender. - I think you need to tell her how you feel. Wanda will be pleased to hear it.

You look away just as he says this, your cheeks flushing. And then you almost fall back when you hear Wanda's voice:

- I will be pleased to hear what? 

The girl asks in a curious and suggestive tone of voice, Pietro looks at his sister with amusement. And you look away very quickly when you see her unbuckle her dress.

Nat is also with her, and helps her take off her corset, while you stand in the middle of the stream, too interested in the water.

- Now, little sister, you know it's very rude to meddle in other people's affairs, don't you? - Pietro joked, and Wanda laughed.

- It becomes my business when you speak on my behalf, doesn't it? - She retorted, as she turned to thank Nat for helping her out of her dress. - Besides, it's not as if we have secrets from each other.

- I was just telling Y/N that we should do something together. All of us, like when we were children. - You could never get tired of Pietro's innate ability to lie so blatantly. - She suggested we go to the theater, and I said that since you had never been, you would be pleased to know.

Wanda looked at Pietro with a slight suspicion, probably wondering if she actually believed his words. But then she smiled.

- Yeah, I'd be very pleased indeed. - She jokes, and looks at you. She frowns when she notices that you are staring down, playing with your fingers with a certain nervousness. She can't tell what's bothering you, and concentrates on taking off her own dress.

-Of course, little sister. - Pietro says in a suggestive tone, and walks over to you again, standing beside you and putting his arm around your shoulders. - We both know very well that you would love a date...

- Pietro, you're naked, get out of here. - You interrupt him, pushing him in the stomach. He laughs, stumbling to the side with your shove. Wanda and Nat laugh a little, you don't notice the redness in Wanda's face.

Nat and Wanda join you at the creek next. You can't help but feel hyperconscious in Wanda's presence, so you turn away, counteracting the energy that seems to pull you toward her.

- I think I saw Potts bake you a cake earlier. - Nat commented as she grabbed the soap left on the grass. She was very comfortable with her own body, and did not mind showing it to the rest of you. Not that any of you were going to look at her maliciously, but you had to admit that it was at least an image to get used to, breasts swaying in front of you. It was not something you saw often.

- I think I'll try to save some. - You say, and looking at the confused and curious expressions of your friends, you add, - For Bruce, and Carol.

Your friends look away quickly, all assuming an almost sad posture. But Wanda looks at you tenderly.

- They will get better, soon, you know. - She comments, and you look at her, trying to believe her words. - Potts says that Carol's fever has gone down since Maria and Monica returned.

- I think if that happened to me, I would want my wife by my side too. - Pietro commented and you nodded in agreement. And then he took on a mischievous look. - By the way, since Carol improved by seeing her family, maybe Nat should visit Bruce. That might cheer him up.

Nat blushed at the insinuation and jumped towards Pietro, who ran away from her attempts to hit him, while she laughed. You and Wanda laughed at the scene.

- You were trying to get beaten up that whole time, weren't you, boy? - Shouted Nat as she chased after him, Pietro was lucky that running had always been his greatest skill, you thought as you looked at Nat's angry expression. He was confident enough to dodge and still throw water at the girl, which seemed to irritate her even more. You laughed at the interaction, but suddenly realized that while they were playing, you were alone with Wanda. Without clothes.

You turned your face slowly to look at her, watching her loose red hair cascade against her neck. The sun was very low now, and the light made her even more beautiful. You swallowed hard as she turned her face to you, the ghost of her laughter still on her lips.

- One of these days Pietro is going to get a real beating. - Wanda jokes and you blink, trying to stop staring. It takes a moment, but you laugh at the joke.

- One of these days Pietro is gonna get real beaten up. - Wanda jokes and you blink, trying to stop staring. It takes a moment, but you laugh at the joke.

- If he's lucky, it won't be Nat. - You reply in the same tone, and Wanda nods in agreement. She starts rubbing soap on your arms, and you try not to stare. 

- You look distracted, almost oblivious. - She says, and you look away, watching Nat finally catch up to Pietro, jumping on top of him and knocking him into the water. You hope they don't drown.

- Why is everyone telling me this? - you retort in an amused tone, Wanda smiles.

- Because it is the truth. 

You look at her expecting her to say something else, but she just lathers her hair a little, pushing it to the side. Your gaze has moved down to the collarbone that was once covered by her hair, now exposed. Your brain seems to shut down and you can't look away even when she looks at you, a shy smile at the corner of her lips.

Pietro lets out a shout between laughs, and you are startled, turning your head to look. He had climbed up a high rock to get away from Nat, who was circling around to catch up with him. You looked away when you noticed his exposed intimacy in the air. 

And then you almost choked when you looked forward again: Wanda, who before had been with her chest completely submerged in water, had stood up and her breasts were right in front of you. She was looking at Pietro, laughing, the movement made her chest jiggle a little and you felt your face get very warm. 

You stumble backwards, feeling your heart racing. Determining that you had reached the limit of nudity for the day, you turned around, leaving the creek. As you moved, Wanda turned her head to you quickly, asking if you were all right. With the image of Wanda's abundant breasts in your mind, you just nodded your agreement without looking at her, hurrying to put on your clothes as quickly as possible. You didn't notice Wanda's flushed face as she watched your naked back.

Properly dressed, you grumbled that you were going to wait for them at the party, and left, finally breathing normally once you were in the area of the cabins. Steve frowned at your reddened face, but you hurried to the campfire area before he asked questions you didn't want to answer.

You only came out of your tent when your breathing and heartbeat were normal again. The images of Wanda's breasts were still in some corner of your mind, but you pushed them away and tried to smile when Steve approached you.

He began to tell stories of his army days, and you tried to pay attention. Peggy and Potts listened intently, and Peggy laughed as she remembered the shared memories, since she and Steve served in the same squadron.

Letting your gaze wander around the camp, you stared at Carol's tent for a second before deciding to go there. Your companions were too distracted by their own conversation to notice you leave.

You opened the tent carefully, and the interior was a little dark, so it took a few seconds for your eyes to get used to the surroundings. Carol was lying on a stretcher, and you were glad to find her awake while she listened to Maria read something attentively. The two women smiled at you when they saw you, and you almost apologized for interrupting the moment, but seeing the tenderness in their eyes, you preferred to believe that you were not disturbing them.

- Hi. - You greeted and stood in the doorway, awkwardly. Maria smiled and stood up, giving your arm a gentle squeeze before leaving, giving you and Carol a bit of privacy.

- Come give me a hug, birthday girl. - Carol asked in a playful tone. She looked better.

You rushed over, giving her a quick hug, not wanting to squeeze her too tightly, for fear of hurting her. 

- I heard that you got better. - You commented, sitting on the edge of the bed. - I'm sorry I didn't come sooner, but Pepper didn't want anyone here.

Carol giggled weakly.

- Oh yes, she said I needed to rest. 

- Maria was the only one who could come in. Even Pepper wouldn't deny her that after weeks of not seeing you.

The blonde nodded in agreement, a shy smile on her lips. You were quiet for a moment, and as you watched her like this, looking so weak and tired, you felt your stomach clench with guilt and anger. 

- Sorry about that, Carol. - The words escaped your mouth quickly, and you looked at the floor, feeling a wave of shame in your chest. Carol frowned, and looked at you with confusion. - If I had been a little faster, you wouldn't be hurt, and you would be with Maria...

Carol held up her hands quickly, asking you to stop apologizing tenderly, and you felt your eyes water, but you obeyed her.

- I can't believe you've been thinking all this time that it was your fault. - She said, and lifted one of her hands to caress your face. - Sometimes services go wrong, child. In fact, it can happen quite often. - She tried to joke, but you didn't smile, and she turned back to a serious expression, trying to reassure you.

You blinked, looking at her expecting her to be angry, but found only tenderness in her eyes.

- We are your family, Y/N. When we are out there, we protect each other. And sometimes that will get us hurt, but we keep going anyway. - She speaks as she looks you in the eye, her fingers tucking some of your hair behind your ear. - You were so brave when we left Armadillo. Helping Bruce when Fury was shot. You could have gone along with the plan, but you knew something was wrong.

You closed your eyes quickly, the memories hitting you with intensity. Carol wiped the tears that streamed down your face. You tried to push the images of Fury being shot away, but they seemed to stick in your head. Taking a deep breath, you opened your eyes, meeting Carol's tender expression.

- I miss him, Carol. - You confess, and she nods.

- I miss him too, Y/N. - She says, and pulls you close, hugging you tight. - He would be proud of you.

You hug for a few moments before you let go, now sitting on the bed next to her. Carol plays with the fingers of your hand before speaking.

- You know, I think Fury's only regret is not going to be at your wedding. - She jokes, and you smile sadly, blushing a little.

- I think he would love to organize something like that. - You remark, and she smiles. You fall silent again, until she lets out an exclamation.

- I have something for you! 

- What? - You ask in confusion, and then she moves on the bed and reaches for the bedside table. She pulls out a small package.

- I was happy to hear that Maria managed to retrieve this from my things before she left New Austin. - Carol said and then she held the package out to you. You gave her a grateful look before accepting it.

You carefully unpacked the box, and let out a sigh of contentment as you read the title of the book, "Otis Miller and the Lady with the Black Heart. You loved that collection of books, and after the Armadillo fire, you had lost every volume you had. You thanked Carol as you flipped through the pages quickly, she laughed at your expression completely focused on the present. She knew how much you loved adventure books.

Carol adjusted her own posture on the bed, sitting up completely, you frowned with concern, but she just smiled assuring you that everything is fine. The movement caused the blanket to lift off her body a little, and your eyes were quickly drawn down to the tip of the large bandage on her belly.

Noticing your gaze, Carol gave you a weak smile.

- Don't worry about this. - She spoke, and then lifted the edge of her blouse. She let you run your fingers over the bandage. 

- Does it hurt too much? - You asked worriedly, but she nodded and added:

- Not anymore. I just feel a little itchy. - She admitted. 

You remembered a few weeks ago, the image of Carol stumbling toward the wagon where you were standing, a huge bloodstain on her belly. Bucky caught her before she hit the ground. You couldn't sleep properly for days. 

- If you can shoot, Steve will want you at the bank job. - You joked and Carol laughed. 

- I think Maria is going to tie me to this bed for a while. - She comments and you raise your eyebrows.

- I didn't know you were into that sort of thing, Danvers. - You joke and she laughs, her cheeks flushing, pushing you lightly on the shoulder.

- You're hanging out too much with Pietro. - She grumbles and you shrug your shoulders. - Speaking of him, or more precisely, his sister. - She starts and you look away, letting out a sigh and dreading the direction of this conversation. - Last time I asked you, you said that, what were the exact words, "you had great appreciation for her friendship and her company."

Carol teased you about your shameful confession last year, after you had had too many beers and she asked you why you didn't ask Wanda out on a date. She laughed at your sulky face when she debauched your choice of words.

- Suddenly everyone is comfortable nagging me about this. - You murmured, and Carol wiped away tears of laughter before turning to you, an expression suggesting that it was obvious the reason why, but noticing your confused face, she added:

- Are you really oblivious to your displays of affection, or are you pretending to be so that you don't have to deal with the commitment? - Carol asks with an expression that plays with seriousness and teasing. You look away quickly, feeling your face heat up. The question was a very good one actually, but before you could sink into your own thoughts, the blonde next to you nudged you, looking at you with amusement. - You don't have to overthink this. I'm not repressing you, you know. I don't think you mean any harm.

- What if you are right? - You let it slide, without really thinking about it. - What if I'm afraid to deal with my feelings? - Carol frowned at you and you bowed your head. - I just... I don't know what I would do if she rejected me. I would have made things awkward between us, and then I would have lost her friendship. And then things got weird with Pietro too, and...

- My God, girl, breathe. - Interrupted Carol, holding you by the shoulders. She had a curious expression. - Even if Wanda rejects you, which in my opinion seems ridiculous and unlikely, you would still be friends. You've known each other for a long time, Y/N. It's not like she's going to leave the gang because of this.

Carol jokes last, but you are startled by the possibility. She rolls her eyes at your panicked face, and lets out a giggle. 

- That would never happen. - She assures. - And you don't have to confess anything you're not ready to say. You can wait until things are normal again.

- It's not as if I haven't waited until now. - You mumble, but it's low enough that Carol doesn't understand. You just shake your head to signal that it's not important.

- I've kept you here long enough. - She says after a moment. - Go enjoy your party a little.

You smile at her, and thank her for the gift again before getting up to leave. 

[mileapokp1677]

Three Steps to Win You (CH 19)

Title: Three Steps to Win You

Rating: M

Pairing: Daddy Chan/Tankhun, Kinn/Porsche, Vegas/Pete

Category: M/M, AU Nerd-Jock

Summary: Accidentally, scientist Tankhun Theerapanyakul embarrassed footballer Captain Chan "Daddy" Knight in front of his coach, teammates and fans. He had to fulfill three tasks from the captain before his apology was accepted.

Chapter 19

(Tankhun POV)

Tuesday Morning - Theerapanyakul Residence 

"P', this is really good," Kim said while chewing on the sandwich that Tankhun brought home last night. As soon as he woke up this morning and finished taking a shower, Tankhun immediately heated up the two sandwiches for Kim and Pa's breakfast.

"Yes, it's really good, son. I don't think you've ever bought this before. Is there a new Deli near campus?" asked Pa, who also seemed to be enjoying the sandwich very much.

"No, Pa, the Deli is a bit far from campus, but worth every mile," said Tankhun.

"P', are you sure this is gluten free bread? It doesn't taste like one at all," Kim insisted, his mouth still chewing nonstop. "Ah~ so good."

"I'm sure, unless Chan lied to me," Tankhun replied without a second thought. “We had lunch together at his regular Deli yesterday. He bought this sandwich for you and Pa.” 

"Cap!? Really? Then, I have no doubts.”

"Why, you, little-"

"Cap?" interrupted Pa in a questioning tone.

Ah, Pa ~

One more member of his family he had to lie to. His damn mouth!

"Pa~~! I forgot you don't know about this... P’ is-"

"Kim," Tankhun warned. 

"Sorry, P', not my story to tell. I shut my mouth now."

Pa looked at him with gentle eyes, patiently waiting for Tankhun's explanation, while the scientist started to feel very bad. He actually had no desire to involve Pa at all, but telling him the truth now would make things even more complicated. There was no other choice, he needed to be strong and finish his plan to the end. It was only for three months, and he was determined that Pa would not be affected by this matter at all, but even if he had to, as little as possible.

“I’m dating the BSFC’s Captain, Pa,” confessed Tankhun, as calm as he could. 

“The Captain? Chan Knight?” asked Pa. “Ah, no wonder.” 

“Yes, Pa, Chan Knight,” confirmed Tankhun. “No wonder… about what?”  

He was actually scared to hear Pa’s answer. 

“No wonder you’re watching football matches now,” replied Pa calmly.

“What? I didn’t know that,” blurted Kim before Tankhun managed to give any response to Pa. 

“Yes, Kim, I heard a couple of times, the voice of the football commentary came from his room," Pa elaborated while smiling. Oh, is that a mischievous smile? Pa hadn't looked this excited about anything in a long time, and Tankhun felt his heart split in two. He hated lying to Pa, but seeing Pa like this made him very happy.

“I thought you only watched the derby that one time. Aw~ P’ that is so sweet.”

Tankhun was so~ ready to pull out his claws to silence Kim, but today, Pa was very spirited. If he didn't know better, he'd think Pa and Kim were working together on purpose to gang up on him.

“He’s also a very handsome man, so it’s understandable if you want to see him in action,” stated Pa, his mischievous smile got even deeper. 

Oh God…

Did Pa... just tease him? Tankhun felt like he was back in the old days when Ma was alive. If Ma was still here, both his parents definitely would have ganged up on him to tease him without mercy. Tankhun’s feelings were so mixed at that time, he was unable to speak, like there was something stuck in his throat. 

“He’s very kind too, Pa~ and the coolest… Cap is the best!” added Kim. “You won't find anyone better than Cap, P'!"

Pa's smile was shifting from being mischievous to be contented and relieved. He looked so radiant. 

Okay~ he needed to stop this Chan praise event ASAP, before Pa expecting something that doesn't exist. If only...

Too soon, remember? 

"Oh wow, look at the time," blurted Tankhun with the worst acting ever, but he just couldn't take it anymore. "Kim, we better go now."

"Okay, P'," Kim responded as he grabbed his car keys from the dining table and put them into his jacket pocket. "Drop you at Hattrick as usual?"

"Yes," replied Tankhun. "Pa, we're leaving."

"Tankhun," called Pa as he stood up from his chair and walked over to Tankhun. He then gently held Tankhun's face in both of his hands and said, "All I want for all my sons is for them to find great love in their lives, just as I found great love in your mother."

Oh my God…

"Pa..." replied Tankhun who was so moved by Pa’s words at that time, placing his hands on top of Pa's. "I want it too, Pa, believe me."

Pa just nodded slightly and smiled at him, afterward, he pulled Tankhun's face closer to kiss him on his forehead.

"I wish the best for you and Chan, son. So, when can I meet him?" 

Whoa! Mayday… mayday… 

"We just started dating, Pa," reasoned Tankhun, hoping Pa wouldn't push him. "Still too soon."

"Okay, okay, I'll just wait for your cue then," Pa responded with a chuckle.

Tankhun kissed Pa’s right cheek. “We better go now, Pa.”

“Yes, of course, have a good day, both of you.”

“You too, Pa!” replied Kim. “See ya!”

******

On the way to the Hattrick, Tankhun checked all the messages and notifications on his social media that he didn't have time to check last night, while Kim, who was driving, sang along to a catchy pop song on the radio. To be honest, Tankhun always thought that Kim has a good singing voice, but football is his life, otherwise Tankhun will ask Kim to enter a music academy.

"The boys are so adorable, all of them," said Tankhun with a laugh.

"Who are you talking about, P'?" Kim asked.

"The BSFC boys," replied Tankhun. "They followed me on Instagram. Wait, let me follow them all back."

"They followed me back too, P’! Can you believe it? Me!” cried Kim. 

"It must feel like a dream to you," asked Tankhun. 

"You have no idea, P’! I think until this very moment I still haven't woken up from the dream," replied Kim who stunned. "Since last night, I keep pinching myself, it's madness, P'!"

“Aaw~ I’m so happy for you, Kim,” said Tankhun, ruffling Kim’s hair. 

“Oy, P’, leave my hair alone!” yelled Kim as he stopped the car in front of the cafe and immediately fixed his hair. 

“Thanks, sweetie, have a good day!” 

“P, wait!” yelled Kim once again. “How about I just wait for you here? So, you don't have to deal with the paparazzi?”

“No need, Kim. I don’t want you late for class,” rejected Tankhun. ��I’m going to be fine, besides I don’t know how long the queue is today.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Positive.” 

“Okay, then, if you say so,” said Kim. “Please, give me a call if you need me.” 

“I will, see you~” said Tankhun, waving to his youngest brother, who is such a sweetheart most of the time. 

******

The queue was quite long today, Tankhun was relieved he didn't ask Kim to wait for him. He would definitely be late for his first class, if he had to wait this long. While waiting for his turn, Tankhun decided to check the messages and DMs on his cellphone which seemed endless.

[TayTay_11]

Doctor T, congratulations! But more importantly, please let me compliment your fashion sense~ those Ferragamo combat boots are to die for!!! Super love! ❤️

[Tankhun T]

Aaaw~ Thank you, Tay! ❤️

[LB_2_Arm]

Doctor T~, OMG!!! This is Arm, and Pol is here with me atm. We need to ask you something. Will you give us permission to write a ff about you and Cap? Your love story is GOLD!

First, Tankhun laughed at Arm and Pol silliness, but then thinking about them truly writing a story about him and Chan made him shudder. No way in hell! 

[Tankhun T]

How about never? And don't you ever think, that you two can create a side account to write a ff about me undetected. Believe me, I will hunt you down and will ask Chan to make your life a living hell. OH, how about VP? Any progress? You need to update me about them! 

[CB_BIG4]

Doctor T, I just wanted to say, no matter how bizarre your first meeting with Cap was, I'm glad he found you. Thank you for returning his smile.

Wow , that was intense. Big’s DM made Tankhun so fucking curious though, what exactly that infuriating ex from hell had done to Chan!? He needed to ask Porsche about it. 

[Tankhun T]

Thank you, Big.

“Next customer!” 

Ah, finally it was his turn. 

“Oh, Doctor T, it’s you,” greeted the barista. “I’m Macau, Vegas’s brother. Uhm, P' has already explained the consequences of my action to you. I owe you a big apology. So, I'm so sorry, Doctor T."

The boy, who seemed to be about the same age as Kim, looked very apologetic, so Tankhun wasn't going to prolong the matter any longer. After all, it happened quite a long time ago.

"Macau, right?"

The boy nodded. "Yes, Doctor T."

"Let's just forget about it, okay? It's forgiven."

"Thank you," Macau replied, his face looking very relieved. "Large hot Americano, right? Or you want a jumbo size, Doctor T?"

"Large is enough for today, Macau, thank you."

After paying for the coffee and tipping Macau, as usual Tankhun stood at the end of the counter waiting for his Americano to be brewed. While waiting, he decided to read the last DM on his phone, it was from Pete. It was a long one and seemed more intense than Big's.  

[Co_Cap_Pete8]

Doctor T, I don't know if the others have tried to contact you or not, but if they did, I wouldn't be surprised. I just hope you don't feel like we're being too presumptuous or crossing the line by sending you a DM like this. But our team is like a family, and like a real family, we protect each other. 

Oh my God, was he about to get "the talk" through DMs by the co-captain of BSFC? These boys truly were adorable, they entertained him so much. Still, Tankhun prepared himself to get “the talk.” He definitely would share this with Chan, they’re going to have a good laugh over it. 

But, just as Tankhun set out to read the rest of Pete's DM, Macau called out his name, his coffee was ready.

"Your Americano, Doctor T, " said Macau sweetly while handing the hot coffee to Tankhun. "Have a good day."

"Thank you, Macau. Have a good day, too."

First thing first, Tankhun took his first sip of coffee for today before he continued reading Pete's DM.  

[Co_Cap_Pete8]

… We all care so much for Cap, and we're so grateful that we can see him laughing like this again. We've been waiting for this moment for a long time. So, thank you very much, Doctor T! We owe you big time! We don't know how we can repay this, but if you need our help, please say so without hesitation. 

Apparently it was not the “if you hurt our Cap, we will hurt you back” talk that he expected, but somehow this was way worse and not amusing at all. In fact, Pete's DM had made Tankhun feel very bad about himself, almost as bad as he felt when he heard Pa's words earlier this morning, or when he made Porsche sad that night at the Moonlight. But, he truly never expected that so many people would be so delighted or this keen because of whatever it is that’s been going on between him and Chan. Not only that, some of them even felt very grateful to him, since they all believed he was the reason that making Chan smile and laugh again.

But all of this was fake! Their relationship was fake... and who could guarantee that Chan's smiles and laughs are genuine? He said it himself, with his own mouth, that it was too soon for him to start a new relationship. So, who really knows? Despite what those BSFC boys said.

What have I got myself into?

Tankhun should have accepted Macau’s offer earlier and gotten the jumbo size coffee. But, honestly, he didn’t think it would make things any better, because for the first time since he discovered the Hattrick, he did not find the slightest pleasure in his coffee.

TBC

[kj-1130]

Broken-Collapse pt2

TW//Mentions of rape/assault//TW

Main Masterlist

     “We wouldn’t have let you jump, (y/n). You don’t deserve that.”

     “You don’t understand. They have connections and as soon as they step out of those cells, I am a dead man walking. I’d rather die at my own hands than theirs, so yes you should’ve let me jump.” 

     You pushed out of Olivia’s arms and ran into the bathroom. Walking into a stall, you locked it, slid down the wall, and started scratching your arms like crazy. You wanted to be grounded. You wanted to feel the pain. You wanted to see blood. You just wanted to be in control. 

-

     Amanda, Barba, and Oliva watched as you stormed off. The blonde was quick to follow, knowing how much damage you could do to yourself in just a short amount of time. 

     She heard the pants that were coming out and the occasional sniff. Walking towards the only closed door, she realized it was locked.

     “(Y/n)? Sweetheart, I need you to open this door for me.”

     The detective faintly heard her sergeant come in but kept her focus on the distraught girl inside the stall. 

     “N-no. I-I need to d-do it. Just le-let me do it.”

     Both women could hear the franticness in your voice. 

     “Sweetie please just open the door. Let us help you.”

     There was no answer. Your sobs only grew louder and breaths more distressed. Neither of them wanted to break the door so Rollins decided to slide underneath it and ignore how unsanitary it was. 

     She saw that your scratching had already broken skin and there was blood caking up on your arms. The detective quickly unlocked the door before grabbing your wrists and pulling them up, preventing you from hurting yourself any further.  

     Liv saw what was happening so she hurriedly went on the search for a first aid kit. 

     Rollins sat there, whispering reassurances while you were openly sobbing and whimpering in her chest. 

     “Breathe, honey, just breathe.”

     You shook your head and kept hyperventilating as Liv came back with something to clean your wounds. 

     “It hurts. It hurts so bad.”

     Amanda took a deep breath and assisted you in standing up. She led you to the sinks and helped you sit on the counter with the sergeant’s help.

     The older woman cleaned your arms while you dropped your head onto the blonde’s shoulder. She rubbed your back and guided you through some breathing exercises. 

     “I’m tired.”

     “You can take a nap soon-”

     “No, I’m tired.”

-

     You sat on the couch in Amanda’s apartment, staring blankly at the tv. She was right next to you but it felt like the distance between the two of you was miles considering you were off in your own world. 

     A light rub on your shoulder brings you back to earth and you realize Amanda is crouch’s in front of you. You didn’t even flinch which the blonde noticed and she gave a small smile. 

     “I ordered some Chinese food. You need to eat something.” 

     The detective lifted up her hands before bringing them to yours and helping you get up. 

     During dinner, Amanda was gently coaxing you to eat at least half of what was on your plate before you could go to bed. You were convinced that the food was somehow poisoned and not safe for you to eat—even though you knew she wouldn’t do that to you—and it had been so long since you last had a meal, that you rarely had an appetite and sometimes just the thought of food disgusted you. 

     With much persuasion and hesitance, you started to take a few bites. It was then you realized how hungry you actually were. Throughout the evening, you and Amanda chatted a bit which took your mind off of the case and your mental exhaustion for a while. 

     It was about 7 pm when you could barely stand, resulting in the detective changing your bandages, then leading you to the guest bedroom. 

     She tucked you in, telling you to come to her if you needed, before turning off the lamp and exiting the room. 

-

     It was 2 am and you were lying wide awake. You thought you’d be out like a light the moment your head hit the pillow considering all that happened today; but nope. All you had done was twist and turn; thinking about those sick smirks that were resting on their faces. Their yellow teeth and alcohol tinted breath. The look in their eyes that said ‘I’m coming for you.’ 

     Before you could even give it a second thought, you were on your way to Amanda’s room. The door was open, so you went in and started calling her name before poking her in the side. 

     She grumbled before rolling over to face you. Immediately, she was alert, thinking something was wrong, but you shook your head. 

     “I-I couldn’t sleep. C-can I stay here w-with you?” 

     The blonde’s eyebrows raised to her hairline. You took her surprised silence as rejection and started to back out of the room slowly. 

     “N-never mind. D-don’t worry about it.” 

     This time, the older woman was the one shaking her head. She reached out and grabbed your wrist. She felt you tense for a second before relaxing and walking forward. 

     “Hey, no. It’s fine. C’mon.” 

     She lifted the covers as an invitation into her bed. You reluctantly crawled in and got settled. She could still see the hesitance in your eyes and slowly wrapped her arms around you. Once again, you tensed before relaxing with a deep breath. 

     You felt Amanda give you a light kiss on your hairline as you teetered on the edge of unconsciousness. 

     It was the first night in a long time that you dreamt of the roses instead of the thorns. 

-     

     You stayed with Amanda for a week before the state practically forced you to go into foster care. They said ‘you weren’t in any immediate danger,’ anymore. You had been there for only a few days before they sent you to a foster family. 

     Something in your gut told you this was going to go bad. But it didn’t matter. Because no one listens to you. And if someone did, it was always too late. 

-

     It was your first day with your new foster family. It was a woman and who she claimed was her fiancé. She seemed kind of familiar to you; it was on the tip of your tongue but you just couldn’t remember where you’ve seen her. 

     At first they appeared to be a normal and loving couple, but they always say looks can be deceiving.

     By the second day, you were locked in your new room, aka a storage closet. It was cold and probably moldy. You were hungry seeing as they hadn’t given you food since lunch yesterday. 

      You were huddled up in a corner rocking back and forth when the man busted through the door and started to drag you out by the arm with no explanation whatsoever. He was pulling you so hard, it felt like he dislocated your shoulder. 

     The buff man practically pushed you down the stairs and roughly led you to the couch. When you looked up, you felt all the blood drain from your face. 

     It was them. They were here for revenge. 

     You just wanted Amanda. Was that too much to ask?

-

     Things continued like this for a week. Adam Johns and Michael Pierce were there everyday, waiting for you downstairs. 

     They would beat you then proceed to have sex with your limp, unconscious body. You thought it hurt the first time but this...this was unbearable. Sometimes, you’d disconnect mentally and just go into a state of nothingness. You didn’t feel, you couldn’t hear; it was just nothing. You wished that you could feel nothing all the time and leave this life. But you couldn’t. This was reality; your reality. And there was nothing you could do about it.

     Should’ve let me jump

-

     The blonde detective was walking from the cafe, on her way to work when she heard whimpers nearby. 

     She walked towards the sound with her hand hovering above her holster, just in case. She surveyed the area and what she saw broke her heart. 

     “Oh, sweetheart.” 

     “I told you they were going to come for me.”

-

     Rollins called Liv and told her the news. She immediately took you to the hospital, hoping that this time you could get a rape kit and put those bastards away for good. 

     She went into the room you were resting in and immediately saw your disheveled state. She was quick to run over and pull you in her arms. 

     That was all it took for you to completely break down. All you wanted these past few weeks was a loving touch; someone who would vow to take care of you no matter how broken or disconnected you seemed to be. All you wanted was Amanda. She was there when no one else was. She showed you the most affection since your mother died. 

     “We’re gonna put those bastards away for good. They’ll never be able to hurt you again. I promise you.” 

     For some reason you believed her. 

-

     “Manda c’mon! We’re gonna be late!” 

     “Okay, okay! I’m coming.” 

     It had been almost a whole year since you were last assaulted and you’ve been living with Amanda since. She was an excellent mother to you and you couldn’t have asked for a better life. 

     Admittedly, it was tough on both of you at first; you had to get used to someone helping and taking care of you as well and Amanda had to care for a child which is already a tough job let alone a child with major trauma. But the two of you made it work. 

     In weird ways, you bettered each other. 

     The detective came down the hall and grabbed her purse before walking towards you and swinging her arm across your shoulders. 

     “Finally. You know those hooligans can gobble up a whole 3 course meal in a span of 10 minutes. We’ll be lucky if an appetizer is left.” 

     The woman chuckled at your dramatics before heading towards the door with you in tow. 

     Living with your newfound parent made you happy; an emotion you had forgotten how to feel. The squad made you happy. 

     ‘I’m glad I didn’t jump.’

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

The ending lowkey sucks ngl. Hope you all liked it though!

[aomine-ryo]

I just got my braces off about 4 days ago and idk if I like how I look yet cause of my confidence issues but could you do Aomine, Taiga, Murasakibara, Wakamatsu and maybe Haikzaki comforting their S/O I also use she/her pronouns! Thanks luv :) I hope you had a great Christmas if you celebrate if not a great 25th!

Oh god it’s been over a month since Christmas,, I’ve been so awful at posting I’m sorry!! For the record though, my Christmas was quite nice 😂 Anyways, I really wasn’t too sure while I was writing this but I hope you like it!!

Scenario: Kagami, Aomine, Murasakibara, Wakamatsu and Haizaki comforting their s/o

Didn’t find myself needing to use any pronouns here so I think anyone can read it!

Kagami

When it comes to being boyfriend— no, husband material, Kagami takes the cake. He’s so sweet and thoughtful towards you that you knew you could always go to him about anything. But sometimes there are things that afraid to talk to even him about because of your own insecurities.

Any kind of change tends to overwhelm you, especially if it had to do with your appearance— which is probably why you hated haircuts even if it was just a trim. However, this wasn’t just an issue of haircuts. You finally got your braces off.

Whilst you were a bit excited about it at first, once it was done you weren’t too sure about it anymore. Of course, you got a lot of comments about it when you went to school the next day, though most of the time it was just a statement rather than a proper compliment. “Oh Y/N, you got your braces off! Cool.” And that was about it.

You hated the attention, especially because you weren’t sure about the way it looked yourself. So you kept your talking to a minimum that day.

When school was over, you met Kagami outside the gate so that you could walk home together like you usually would. You quickly realised that it was inevitable that you had to talk to him.

“Hey babe, how was your day?” He beamed, patting your head as a way of greeting you as if you were a puppy.

“It was okay,” you mumbled.

Kagami furrowed his brows and looked at you again, trying to read your expressions to see if he missed anything that gave away any bad mood. “Doesn’t sound okay. Why are you talking like that?”

“It’s not—“

“Ooh you got your braces taken off! Lemme see,” Kagami said excitedly as you let out a groan.

“No, it looks weird,” you whined as you covered your mouth with your hand.

“I doubt it. Come on, you’re going to have to show me eventually,” Kagami pleaded as you kept walking and trying to act like it wasn’t bothering you.

You just shook your head no as you continued walking while Kagami trailed behind you.

“So are you just never gonna talk to me?” Kagami sighed.

You shrugged in response.

“Hm, I guess that means no more kisses,” Kagami said. You knew what he was trying to do, and you weren’t going to fall for it. So you just remained silent. “I think I won’t have you try any more of the food I make either then— you’d probably have to open your mouth to do that after all,” he provoked. Your stand wavered for a moment at the thought of that, but you knew he wasn’t serious so you continued to leave your lips sealed. “Wait, this means I could talk to you about anything! Let’s talk about basketball,” he said with a smirk— there was no way you were going to let this slide.

You loved Kagami with all your heart, and you loved listening to him talk about the things he was passionate about. However, when it came to basketball, the boy could talk for hours and still not run out of things to say. It also often ended with him forcing you to play a one-on-one with him because all the talking got him worked up.

You were still determined not to open your mouth though. You certainly weren’t all for the change so what if he ended up hating it too?

Kagami knew what he was doing. And you were painfully aware of that when the first thing he started talking about was a one-on-one he played with Aomine. He’d played so many games with him that every recount of events sounded the exact same to you. “...And I go for the dunk, and guess what he does?”

“He blocks it,” both of you said in unison as you started to chuckle.

A soft grin fell upon Kagami’s face as his heart warmed up at the sight of your smile. “How’d you know?” he said, his voice softening after going on his tangent.

“Because that’s what always happens,” you laughed.

Kagami dropped his jaw, pretending to be offended as his hand dramatically reached for his chest, “So you think Aomine is better than me now? I’m devastated,” he shook his head, though he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face even if he tried.

“Now you’re just putting words in my mouth,” you said, finally simmering down from your fit of giggles.

Kagami went silent for a moment. You looked up at him and found him just staring at you with the dorkiest smile ever.

“What?” You chuckled.

“See, I knew that your smile would look gorgeous no matter what,” he said, not taking his eyes off of you for even a second.

You hadn’t even realised until then that you’d forgotten about your worries of what you looked like. You really didn’t know how he did it; how he made you feel comfortable without even having to try. Just like that, the colour rose in your cheeks as you averted your gaze. “Stop it,” you blushed.

“What? I’m just stating a fact,” he shrugged, swinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to his warm body as you walked, making you stumble slightly. “You’ll always look stunning to me,” he said so softly that it was like it was only the two of you in this little world and no one else.

At this point, there was nowhere else you could look except into his eyes, and all you saw was love and sincerity. And suddenly, you didn’t mind beaming the brightest smile your face could muster, because in this little world of yours, the only person that mattered would do nothing but make you feel beautiful and loved.

Aomine

It wasn’t like you to skip school over absolutely nothing, but you felt like you would rather die than get any attention for having your braces taken off. It was inevitable that you had to go to school at some point, but you just decided to not go for at least a day to get yourself used to the change.

Of course, your boyfriend, Aomine wasn’t the most pleased when he went to school that day and found out that you were absent. What you weren’t expecting, however, was for him to be at your doorstep after school was over. In hindsight, you should’ve known that he would use visiting you as an excuse to not attend practice.

“Hey, is everything alright? You weren’t at school today,” Aomine questioned once you opened the door and let him in.

“Mhmm,” you hummed with a slight nod.

“You know, a text would’ve been nice. I spent all of recess looking for you and then Satsuki told me you weren’t at school,” he explained with a heavy sigh, “It was exhausting.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, causing him to look your way with a confused expression.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again.

You nodded in response, not wanting to open your mouth.

“Are you not going to ask me why I skipped practice?”

You shook your head no.

“Well, if you must know,” Aomine went on anyway, “I came here to check up on you. But seems to me like you don’t want to talk to me today.”

You didn’t respond, causing Aomine to get even more worried.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked softly.

You shook your head almost immediately.

“Then why won’t you talk to me?” Aomine said, tilting his head to the side to meet your gaze, though you immediately looked away.

“It’s nothing, I just don’t look that good today,” you mumbled, making sure to turn your head away from him so he couldn’t see your face.

“Hm? Is that so?” Aomine said, looking you up and down with furrowed brows. “You look beautiful as always to me.”

You let out a heavy sigh. He was going to find out anyway. “I got my braces taken out yesterday,” you said.

Aomine’s eyes lit up immediately as he looked at you expectantly, as though you were supposed to flash him a smile and show off your teeth like it was nothing. And honestly, if you had the confidence you would’ve, but you didn’t. “Well, are you going to show me or not?” Aomine asked.

You shook your head yet again.

Aomine frowned as he got closer to you. “Why not?”

“Because it looks weird,” you muttered as your eyes stared at the floor.

Aomine’s fingers brushed through your hair before reaching to your face to caress your cheek lovingly, making you melt instantly at his touch. “I don’t think you’re even capable of such a thing. You’re always gorgeous,” he said softly.

“No I’m not,” you mumbled, trying not to be swayed by the tenderness of his calloused fingers.

“Of course you are,” he said as his hand made its way down to your chin to tilt it up so you were looking up into his eyes. “You know, whenever I look at you my immediate thought is ‘Woah how’d I get so lucky?’”

“You’re just saying that,” you blushed, trying to fight back the smile that was creeping across your face. He was so close to you and your heart was racing at 100 miles per hour.

“I’m serious,” he said, unable to stop smiling himself at they way you were just putty in his hands. “Your smile is so much brighter without the braces by the way. I love it,” he added smoothly, making you want to giggle like an idiot.

“Really?”

“Of course, you dummy. I can’t even believe you were worried about that in the first place. You’re beautiful no matter what,” Aomine said. “You know that I’ll never stop thinking of you that way right?”

For a moment you stopped worrying about what you looked like and let yourself relax into a smile. Something about the softness of his voice and the way he held you close made you feel at ease— almost as if you could finally be your true self as you nodded in response. “Yeah, I know,” you said as you finally looked at him in the eye before he finally leaned in and gave you the kiss you’d been anticipating for minutes. And when his lips finally brushed against yours you could feel nothing but gratitude for having someone like him to remind you that everything will be okay.

Murasakibara

Murasakibara liked to come over a lot. When you first started dating you expected it to happen since his house was just down the street, but it was to the point where he practically lived with you. You didn’t mind at all though, you liked having him around. Your parents seemed to enjoy it too— especially since he offers to cook meals when he gets hungry, which saves your mother the effort.

However, with him always being over, it was hard to keep things hidden from him. Of course, both of you knew when to give each other space, but any changes to your physical appearance would be near impossible to hide— unfortunately for you.

When you got back home from your dentist appointment, where you finally had your braces taken out, you barely had much time to settle in when you got a call from Murasakibara. “Hey, I’m bored. Are you back from the dentist yet?” he spoke.

“Yeah I am, but—“

“Great, I’ll be over in a few minutes,” he said before you could protest. The happiness you could hear in his voice certainly didn’t make you want to turn him down either.

Just like that, the phone call ended and you let out a heavy sigh as you looked at yourself in the mirror. You’d been standing there for a few minutes prior to the call, trying to figure out how you felt about your new look. Whilst the braces caused you enough issues on their own, you’d become so accustomed to them that it was strange looking at yourself now. If you thought it looked weird, you couldn’t help but wonder what other people would think, thus sending you down a spiral of insecure thoughts all over again as Murasakibara’s arrival made you more and more nervous.

You knew Murasakibara couldn’t care less about anyone’s appearance. In fact, he didn’t even notice that time where Kise showed up to a get together with purple hair from accidentally using his sister’s purple shampoo until Aomine made fun of him for it. So realistically, you shouldn’t have been worried about what Murasakibara would think— but you still were.

You often tend to get really quiet when you’re anxious and the fact that your insecurities had to do with your teeth this time, it was all the more reason to just keep your mouth shut.

“Hey Y/N-chin,” Murasakibara greeted with a soft smile when you opened the front door for him. “I was going to get you some snacks, but then I remembered that you just went to the dentist so I got you some of that fruit juice you like,” he said, digging through his bag of snacks before pulling out a can and handing it to you.

“Thank you, that’s really sweet,” you said softly, happily taking the juice.

“Don’t mention it,” he said coolly as he planted a kiss on the top of your head before walking to your room with you trailing behind him.

As usual, Murasakibara plopped down onto your bed as if it were his own, letting out a tired sigh as he did so. “You know, while you were gone, I tried doing the math homework for the weekend, and it was the worst experience ever. I couldn’t even get past the second question,” he said, making you let out a small chuckle.

He was so open with you that it made you feel at ease. “Well at least you did the first one,” you shrugged, forcing back your toothy grin when you noticed him direct his gaze at you.

“Yeah, but I probably got that one wrong too,” he sighed before sitting up with his back against your headboard. “Anyways, how was the dentist?”

“It was okay,” you mumbled.

“Then show me your teeth,” he said, not particularly expectant of anything though there was a trace of interest as he absentmindedly munched on his chips.

“I don’t know, it looks really weird...”

Murasakibara’s eyebrows furrowed. “Weird? They’re just teeth,” he said simply.

“Well yeah, but, I don’t know,” you said, trying to find a way to respond to his statement. You forced a smile to show him your teeth before frowning again, “See? Doesn’t it make my face look weird?”

“No, you still look pretty to me,” he shrugged.

As sweet as that was, you still weren’t convinced. You found yourself staring at yourself in the mirror once again, picking yourself apart as you tried to decide whether you liked it or not. The more time you spent in front of that mirror, the more frustrated you got. And Murasakibara seemed to notice it through the agitated and hopeless look on your face.

You noticed Murasakibara get up from the corner of your eye, though you didn’t pay too much attention to it. Next thing you knew, you felt a pair of arms snake around your waist from behind you. You watched Murasakibara in the mirror as he rested his chin on your head.

“Y/N-chin, you look perfect. There’s no need for you to criticise yourself in the mirror like this, you know,” Murasakibara mumbled, unable to keep his eyes off of the gorgeousness of your reflection.

“I’m just trying to get used to it, that’s all,” you said, in what was a half-lie.

“I don’t think people frown that much when they’re getting used to something,” Murasakibara said. He leaned down and tilted his head to smother your cheek and neck with kisses as he held you tight. “You’re beautiful— I mean it,” he said against your neck.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach. Murasakibara was always one to speak his mind, so any compliments from him you knew were 100% genuine. Of course, the kisses definitely helped you sway your opinion about yourself as you began to giggle at the feel of his breath against your neck. “Atsushi, that tickles,” you laughed as you tried to move your neck away, however you were held captive by tight grip around you.

Murasakibara smiled as he watched how the expression on your face changes. He was glad that he was able to take your mind off of things for a moment. “You have a cute smile,” he said softly, making your cheeks flush a bright red.

You immediately looked away in embarrassment as a dorky grin spread across your face. “Shut up.”

“Well, are you finally going to pay some attention to me rather than your mirror? I came all the way here you know, the least I could get is some cuddles,” Murasakibara went on.

“All the way here? Atsushi, you just crossed the street,” you laughed.

“I don’t see you point. So am I getting cuddles or not?”

“Of course.”

Wakamatsu

Wakamatsu is seriously one of the most caring boyfriends ever. You wouldn’t be able to find someone as sweet and loving as he was even if you tried your absolute hardest. You were nothing but grateful for having someone like him because you hardly ever found yourself worrying about trivial things that would constantly bug you previously.

But like any other person, you had moments where your insecurities would get the best of you, and it could be quite tolling sometimes because you’d never let yourself bring it up with the people you were close with. It was quite a silly way of thinking because Wakamatsu was always more than happy to listen, but you couldn’t help it. That’s just how your brain decided to deal with things.

So when you finally got your braces taken off, you were naturally unsure about how you appeared. Of course, you were aware that you just needed to get used to it, but a smaller, though much louder part of you was extremely anxious about having judging eyes on you thinking that you looked as strange as you perceived yourself to be. Therefore, to avoid any questions or weird looks at school the next day, you decided to wear a mask and pretend you had a cold so no one would see your mouth.

When Wakamatsu came over that morning so that you could walk to school together like you usually would, he immediately went into concerned-mode upon seeing your mask. “Hey, what’s wrong? Why do you have a mask on?” he asked.

“Oh um, I’m not feeling too well. It’s nothing serious though. Just don’t wanna get anyone else sick,” you lied.

“Are you sure? Maybe you should just stay home and get some rest. You can copy my notes,” he said, his concern so genuine that it was like he was mothering you at that point.

He was too sweet. You couldn’t just lie to him when he was just trying to be helpful. “No, no it’s fine,” you said, trying to muster up the courage to tell him the truth.

“No, I insist. You have to take care of yourself—“

“I’m not actually sick,” you finally admitted. “I got my braces taken off yesterday and I don’t like how I look,” you mumbled, staring at the floor out of embarrassment.

“Oh,” Wakamatsu simmered down from his insisting and processed what you’d just said. And honestly, if he were to take the time to fully understand why you said that, you’d be standing there all day because he couldn’t even fathom the idea of you looking anything but amazing to him.

“Yeah, so can we just head to school now?” you said to fill the silence, not wanting to be late.

“Um, I’m not going to ask you to show me or anything because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Wakamatsu started again as you two walked along the driveway, “but I think you’re probably overreacting.”

“Maybe,” you shrugged. “Either way, I don’t like how I look and I don’t want other people to see me until I’ve decided that I do.”

“I guess that’s fair,” he sighed. “I just hope you know that I think you’re always really pretty.”

“Really?” you asked softly as you looked up at him again, the sudden eye contact causing him to get more flustered.

“Of course. You’re absolutely gorgeous Y/N. And I bet if you took that mask off that fact would not change,” Wakamatsu confirmed as he smoothly took your hand in his and squeezed it tight as you walked along the pavement.

You began to soften up for a moment. It was almost as if the warmth of his hand had made its way throughout your entire body, making you feel all fuzzy. However, you still weren’t ready to display your new look to everyone at school, even after the boost of confidence Wakamatsu had given you. So you kept the mask on that day.

Your boyfriend was very patient with you. It was one of things you loved about him. Even after he reassured you that you would look good no matter what, you never felt even an ounce of pressure to show him until you were truly comfortable— and he certainly didn’t mind waiting. Luckily for him, his wait wasn’t too long because you did end up showing him during lunchtime.

The two of you sat at your usual place— a bench that was fairly secluded— as you unwrapped your purchases of snacks from the canteen. You really appreciated how he didn’t bring up your braces again after you chat that morning. He was so normal around you that being with him just made it feel as good as any other day, which is probably what led you to forget about it altogether when you took off your mask to take a bite out of your sandwich.

Wakamatsu looked at you with a smile on his face, which you didn’t question too much because he had a tendency to do that every now and then. However, they remained fixated on you for a while as you swallowed your food and began to chuckle, “Why are you smiling at me like that?”

“It’s nothing. I’m just happy because I’m always right,” Wakamatsu shrugged smugly.

“What?”

“I was right— you always look absolutely gorgeous,” he said nonchalantly as you were immediately reminded about your braces-free teeth, making your face heat up at the compliment.

You weren’t sure what it was about that moment where your eyes met and lips shared the same happy smiles, but you felt at ease. Wakamatsu really didn’t have to try to comfort you— all he had to do was be there and it was enough. But he didn’t ever think like that. He constantly went out of his way to make sure you were happy and comfortable at all times. And when you weren’t, it was pretty much guaranteed that he wouldn’t leave your side until you saw yourself with the same amount of admiration as he sees you.

And whilst by the end of the school day you had more or less regained some of your confidence, Wakamatsu still decided to spend more time with you at your house, where he smothered you with warm cuddles and soft kisses, all while reminding you how beautiful you were to him.

Haizaki

If you think that Haizaki isn’t exactly the best at comforting, well, you’d kind of be right. He’s not someone that takes things seriously most of the time so his solution to most problems tends to have the “it is what it is” mentality. You didn’t mind this too much though, in fact you liked how laid back he was, however that also made it a bit difficult for you to approach him about certain things that made you feel insecure.

He was a caring boyfriend, don’t get me wrong; he truly did love you. And sometimes you did agree with him about letting things be the way they are. But sometimes he just doesn’t understand why you feel a certain way because the situation seems so trivial to him. For example, when you finally got your braces taken off, you weren’t exactly feeling the most confident. Sure, it was nice to finally get that damn metal wire out of your mouth, but at the same time, the change was quite overwhelming.

Of course, Haizaki, who spends an awful lot of time texting you because he really has nothing else to do, knew about you getting them taken off before he saw you again at school the next day. However, you weren’t all that excited to show him, or anyone for that matter, because you really hadn’t gained the confidence back yet. Nevertheless, you went on with your day, doing your best to minimise your speaking so others wouldn’t notice the change.

Once it was time for lunch, Haizaki approached your desk, his eyes as tired as they always were during the school day. “God, I slept through that entire English class— what a bore,” he yawned.

“It wouldn’t hurt to pay attention once in a while, you know,” you said as you shoved your books into your backpack.

“Anyway,” Haizaki continued, knowing that he didn’t want to get into a conversation about his awful study habits. “You got your braces taken off right? Go on, give me a smile,” he said in a joking tone.

“No, I don’t like how it looks,” you said firmly.

“Mhm,” he hummed, “doesn’t matter. I want to see for myself.”

“No way, it looks weird,” you said softly as the classroom emptied.

“I can decide that for myself.”

You looked up at the eyes that were hovering above your desk. He wasn’t going to back down. You let out a sigh and flashed him an uncomfortable smile as you waited for him to say something. Each moment of silence convinced you more and more that he hated how you looked just as much as you do.

“I don’t see why you were complaining so much,” he said with a shrug and a small grin on his face.

“I feel like I look awful,” you muttered.

“Awful? You? Please,” Haizaki scoffed. “You’re hot as fuck.”

“I’m really not...”

“Are you calling me a liar?” Haizaki questioned, determined to prove his point.

“No, but—“

“You’re really fucking beautiful, Y/N,” he interrupted. “If anyone tries to tell you otherwise, I won’t hesitate to throw hands— that’s how much I believe it.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at that last part. “Babe, you wouldn’t hesitate to throw hands with anyone.”

“Shut up. My point still stands. Now how do I get you to see how pretty you are?” he said, trying to think of something clever.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” you said, half-joking.

Next thing you knew, Haizaki had leaned in and pressed his lips against yours ever so passionately, taking you by surprise. It took you a moment to realise what was going on before you quickly pulled away— even though you quite enjoyed it.

“Babe, were in a classroom,” you scolded softly, though you couldn’t fight back the grin that was spreading across your face.

“So what? No one’s here,” he said, voice as deep as ever. “Besides, I’m trying to remind you how pretty you are— that’s more important.”

“How exactly is that going to remind me?” you chuckled.

“Well, I wouldn’t just kiss anyone like that, now would I?”

“I suppose,” you said with a smile.

“In all seriousness though, I really don’t know why you think you don’t look good, because in my eyes you’re the most beautiful thing ever,” he said, sincerity in his eyes.

You began to blush at the sound of his words. It might take a while for you to feel more confident about yourself but this was certainly helping. “When did my Haizaki get so tooth-rottingly sweet, huh?” you teased jokingly.

Haizaki rolled his eyes and pretended to be annoyed at you but the smile on his face really said otherwise. “Shut up.”

[it-was-summer]

Video Killed the Radio Star- Chapter 8 (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hello!!! After a very very very long hiatus, school is over and I am ready to write again. I'm sorry for dropping off the face of the earth, but I did indeed get burnt out this semester and I just needed some time to recover. I also got sick with COVID-19, so I'm sorry that chapter 8 took so long to write. As regards to the things in my ask box, I will be answering them as soon as I post this chapter today. I will be working over the Summer, but I promise to write over the Summer. Thank you all for being kind and I hope that this chapter or two nerds being nerds makes up for some of it... a little at least? Also the text will be italicized

Warnings: One? Curse word? Fluff and texting?

Plot: Spencer and you fight against all judgement and ignore the growing feelings the two of you have for each other. Spencer sends you a text.

Word Count: 2.1K

Spencer had come and gone, and now your couch carried the faint smell of peppermint and old books. The moon peered through your living room window as you poured steaming water into a mug, the smell of peppermint making your stomach flip pleasantly. Your mind wandered dangerously, thinking about how sweet Spencer’s laugh sounded when you nitpicked something the Doctor had said.

Thinking about how he stood in front of your bookcase and how bright his smile became seeing The Nightingale and the Rose amongst the masses, his fingers brushing the spine for a second before he let out a soft ‘oh’. You shook your head from side to side gently, trying to shake the recent memories from your brain as you took a short sip of your tea.

You couldn’t help but feel dirty thinking about Spencer. If you were just thinking about him you would’ve felt better, but you weren’t thinking about Spencer necessarily. You were thinking about how soft his hands felt in the split second the two of you reached for the remote. You were thinking about how he used that same hand to push back his hair from his eyes, how the dying sunlight outside reached his eyes, and how he looked when he lingered for a second too long at the door.

That wasn’t right. You weren’t supposed to think about him like that, you didn’t want to. Every lingering thought was shoved into the back of your mind in a forceful act of rebellion. You needed to remain grounded, you couldn’t let yourself get carried away. He was your friend and he was going to remain your friend, just a friend.

The peppermint tea felt thick as it went down your throat, a soft chime bringing you back to reality. Your hand shot over to your phone, feeling desperate for any kind of distraction. Your mother had texted you a simple ‘Hi’ and you felt your shoulders relax instantly. You hit the call button.

___

Spencer stood in the middle of a park, he wasn’t there for a case or to play chess, he was just there-- sitting on a red blanket. His head raised to the sky as a breeze shook through his hair sweetly. He heard a gentle and familiar laugh beside him, his head snapping away from the blue sky to look at you. “What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing,”

Spencer frowned, sitting up on his elbows, eyes locked onto yours, silently interrogating you. You waved him off with a smile, “Fine,” you said, leaning your head into the palm of your hand. “I never get to see you like this, so free.”

“I’m always free, thank you very much,” Spencer taunted uncharacteristically as he felt your hand shove into his shoulder with a gentle jab.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” soft wind blew your hair into your face and Spencer could already feel his hand moving to push the hair out of your eyes, “You’re always worrying about work or a case or something else, sometimes it feels like you’re running a thousand miles a minute and I can’t catch up, but sometimes it’s nice to just see you be still for a while.”

Spencer felt pleasant shivers pass through his spine, opening up his mouth to whisper something sweet to say to you, but the words never got the chance to leave his throat as he woke up in his dark bedroom.

His eyelids fluttered gently, begging him to fall back asleep against his will. Spencer forced his eyes open, turning his head to the side to look at the time glowing on the digital clock that sat upon his nightstand. Four in the morning.

Spencer felt his face grow warm as he laid awake in bed, thinking about you. Your laugh, your smile, your eyes, your hands. Spencer didn’t like to touch people, being a slight germaphobe, he tried to avoid touching other people as much as possible. So why was he so comfortable with it in a dream? He didn’t believe that dreams reflected the subconscious, but sometimes he ignored that gnawing feeling inside his brain and believed in dream analysis.

This was one of those times. He knew that if he mentioned anything to Derek, he would make fun of him, and then he would tell Penelope and then everyone would know. So maybe this was something he was going to keep to himself. He wordlessly decided that he wouldn’t tell anyone, it felt wrong to tell anyone. You were hurting. Recovering.

Besides, if he said something-- if he reacted to it, wouldn’t that make this feeling grow? He bit his lip, rolled over on his other side, closed his eyes, and tried to resume the dream he had just woken up from.

__

A lump filled Spencer’s throat as he stepped through the elevator, coffee’s in hand. He wasn’t the best at lying about things and he worked with profilers. Literal people that could look at him and dissect his brain without him saying a word. Usually, he had the upper hand, usually, he didn’t feel so different. He had no reason to feel so strange, he was just happy, was it so strange that he felt happy? When Prentiss’s eyes fell on him, he decided yes.

The team didn’t always say something when they noticed something was off with Spencer, but most of the time they made a habit to say some teasing remark in passing. Spencer wasn’t sensitive, nor was he immune to throwing out some special one-liners of his own, he was just skittish about receiving them.

“Spencer,” Emily’s voice cut through the room, snapping Spencer’s head up from his coffee. “You seem,” she paused “Weird.”

“Weird? Reid?” Derek chuckled softly, eyes meeting Spencer’s for a quick second.

“Yep, always weird.”

“Yeah, okay, he’s being weird,”

Spencer took a long sip of his coffee, his fingertips gripping the cup a little tighter in a desperate attempt to calm himself down. He had no reason to feel weird, no reason at all. It’s not like his dream was real. It had just been so long since Spencer had liked someone as much as he liked you. That wasn’t the right way to think about it; he simply had a crush on you. That was all it was, a crush.

“I just had a good night,” he muttered nervously into the lid of his cup.

“Yeah, with a cute little miss thing that lives in Richmond.”

“Richmond?” mused Emily with a smile.

Spencer frowned at Derek, “Who even told you that? Was it Penelope, because she told me she wouldn’t tell,”

“When she says that, she means she won’t tell Hotch, but she’ll most likely always tell me.”

Emily waved her hand from side to side, “Wait go back,” she pointed at Spencer “Did you have a date yesterday?”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“No, it wasn’t a date. It was coffee. We drank coffee and talked.” Spencer argued quickly, making him seem guilty in a matter of seconds.

“Can she even do anything with that boot on?” Emily teased, earning a laugh from Derek.

“Come on, Prentiss. Reid only makes moves on girls in the middle of a case, not after.”

“That was once!”

“So you made a move on her then?” Emily implored gently, letting the interrogative teasing be cut short.

“No, we went back to her apartment to watch a show, and then I went home,” Spencer answered, trying to let his nerves settle down, when he said it out loud it sounded like it was nothing. It sounded silly. Derek and Emily shot each other a glance, shared a smile, and then both mouthed a simple ‘okay’, before going their separate ways.

Spencer knew that Emily was probably running over to whisper something to Rossi or J.J and Derek was probably heading over to Penelope to tell her what just happened. He could care less, he needed to work, and they all needed to work judging by the way Hotch walked into his office.

__

You had woken up near noon to a text that simply read; Hello.(: It was short, sweet, and from Spencer. To be fair, he had mentioned that he wasn’t the best with texting people, so the fact that he sent you a text said something.

You didn’t want to seem too eager as you texted Hey, did you have lunch yet?

You set the phone down, trying to get over the initial feeling of embarrassment that caused your cheeks to flush, remembering in a second that you were a nerd. You couldn’t text people for shit and as you stared at the message you had just sent Spencer it showed.

You sat up, sliding off to the edge of the bed, hand reaching for the phone as another chime made your heart burst. No, I spent lunch on a plane to Georgia.

Georgia?

Chime.

We got another case and the whole team is running on coffee.

Eat something soon.

Chime.

Can’t ignore a demand like that.

Good, don’t.

Chime.

Text me later?

Absolutely (:

You pressed your lips together, fighting back the growing smile on your lips as you left your phone on your bed, today already seemed promising.

Being out yesterday made you realize how much you missed being outside, the only downside was it took forever for you to get anywhere. So, you called your mom out for lunch. You found the slow walking easier to deal with when you were talking to someone else and she was worried about you, so it was a win-win.

The restaurant was crowded, crowded areas usually made you feel nervous like you were being watched. Being watched wasn’t so bad, being kidnapped was worse, and being physically abused was worse than being kidnapped. So you could deal with some crowds.

Certain things kept catching you by surprise, like the way slow-moving cars rolling down the street made you tense up, and the way you clenched your jaw as the waitress’s name tag shined ‘Heather’.

Your mother was kind enough to reach over the table to hold your hand in hers, a smile brightening her eyes effortlessly, “You look lovely today,”

You let out a small sigh and shrugged “I had a good morning,”

“Really?” she repeated, smile growing wider.

“Yeah,” you squeezed her hand gently “I went out for coffee yesterday with Spencer, too.”

“The F.B.I agent, Spencer?” You nodded quickly, hand leaving hers as you looked through the menu. “Was this a date?”

“Mom,” your eyes peered up at her, lips turned down into a gentle frown “I just went through something very traumatic, I don’t think it was a date.”

“What was it then?”

“A friend, being nice to another friend.” You replied quickly, trying to move your focus back onto the menu in your hands. You heard a small sound from your mother that reassembled an ‘okay’ before she went silent, but you could tell she was burning with questions.

You didn’t blame her, you never got out much but when you did, she was the first one to know. You had mentioned over the phone last night that the two of you were friends and he was helping you through so of the tougher things that recovery involved, but she seemed to ignore that then. You had yet to mention the addictive tendencies you were feeling, the yearning for a release, an outlet of some kind. You knew it would break her heart, so you kept quiet.

“I like him,”

“Mom,” you scolded with a smile, setting down the menu. “You met him once.”

“And he made a good impression,”

“You left the room!”

“I can read body language,”

“Okay, mom,” You scoffed as you took a sip of your water.

“All I’m saying is,” she put her hands together “Recovering doesn’t mean you have to ignore every opportunity that comes your way because you don’t think it’s the right time.” She met your eyes and let out a tiny laugh, “I know you and you won’t let anything happen if you feel like it’s not the right time, sometimes it’s not a bad thing to let things happen. Romantic things or otherwise.”

You opened your mouth to say something but instead, you let out a tiny sigh, nodding slowly. She didn’t need to know how miserable the night made you, how suffocating a day alone was for you, so you nodded. After all, maybe she was right, she was your mother.

[cherrybracelets]

as the world caves in

masterlist | request

spencer reid x bau agent!reader

song inspo: as the world caves in - matt maltese (i highly recommend listening to this before or during reading to fully understand the fic)

summary: you’ve worked in the bau for almost a year now, but this is your toughest case to date. when the unsub puts you and spencer in a near death situation, the complex feeling of mortality causes you to bear your souls to one another 

word count: 6k | warnings: no smut but it is typical criminal minds violence, plot centers around reader being held hostage by an unsub so there is tying up, reader getting hurt, etc. pls be cautious when reading if that makes you uncomfortable

Your head was pounding, the sound of phones ringing and private chatter ringing through your ears. You shakily poured a cup of coffee, closing your eyes momentarily as you tried to wake yourself up. You glanced at the clock, seeing that it was barely five in the morning. You yawned obnoxiously, assuming no one was around you. But when you heard a quiet snicker from behind, you knew immediately you were not alone. You spun around quickly to see Emily, waving as she set her bag down on her desk. 

“Pretty early to be called in. Must be important,” she concurred, pouring herself a cup of stale FBI coffee as well. 

“Do you ever get used to it?” You groaned, taking a long swig of the cheap coffee. You had doused it with milk and sugar to make it consumable, but it still left a nasty taste in your mouth with each sip. You knew you wouldn’t make it without caffeine, though, so you stomached it down. 

“I’ve been here… five years, now? I can assure you it doesn't get easier,” she laughed. You had missed her laugh, when she was gone. She had become a wonderful mentor to you, and when you thought you lost her, you were shattered. Having her back has been enough to get you through the tough cases, which seemed to be escalating with each one. 

“You know, next week is my one year anniversary with the BAU,” you smiled, excited of your first milestone with the team. The BAU was an exceptionally hard job, and many people didn’t make it as long as you had. It was something to be proud of. 

“You’re kidding! Congratulations, (Y/N).” 

“Thank you!”

You saw Hotch and Derek walk in out of the corner of your eye, deep in conversation. You were sure it was an important one, the look on Hotch’s face confirming your suspicions. They walked straight to the conference room, not even looking up to notice you and Emily. You gave Emily a look, and you were both thinking the same thing. ‘We better get our asses in there.’

You followed Emily into the room, Garcia getting the case ready to present. The rest of the team filtered in over the next few minutes, riddled with dark circles, cups of coffee and worry. There wasn’t much small talk made, everyone too out of it to pretend to talk about what they did last weekend. 

“Good morning everyone, thanks for coming in so early,” Hotch addressed, standing up as he welcomed everyone. “We’ve got a bit of a weird case, today. Garcia, why don’t you go ahead and present.” 

“Okay, my loves. This is a bit of a weird one, so strap in to keep up with me. A 21 year old female, Emily Davies, was abducted yesterday morning from the parking lot in her apartment complex. Now, the lot did have security cameras, but the unsub cut the internet cable and they can’t download the video until the can fix the wire.”’

“He’s smart, probably knew it would slow us down. And shows he has knowledge in wiring and electrics.” Derek added. 

“Exactly. The police believe we should have the footage by the time we land. Now here’s where it gets weird. Two hours after she was abducted, there was a shooting at a gas station about 30 miles outside of the city, off I75. Three dead, including the worker. No cameras there, unfortunately.”

“How do we know it’s the unsub?” You questioned, failing to see the connection between the two crimes. 

“Ah, my darling, if there wasn’t a connection we wouldn’t be called in. Our unsub left a note at this crime scene. It read, ‘They were going to take her. I couldn’t let them take her. She is mine, we are in love. Please, leave us be.’” Garcia then pulled up photos of the crime scene and the note on the monitor. 

“These are clean shots, straight to the head, execution style,” Reid said, studying the photos on the screen. 

“He knows how to use a gun, that’s for sure.” Rossi added.

“The 911 call was made by a customer who walked in to see the carnage about a half hour after the unsub left. They believe he is continuing to drive North, but we currently have no idea what him or his car look like.” 

“If he didn’t kill again, he most likely stopped somewhere. He may be lowing low in a roadside motel to keep us off his trail,” Reid said. 

“The gas station seemed unplanned. The abduction was thorough, leaving no evidence. But this scene is sloppy, and rushed. They must’ve seen Emily and panicked, and he shot em. This was never part of the plan, and now he’s freaking out.”

“That’s a good point, Emily’s face is all over the news now. He’d need a place to rest for a bit until he can come up with the rest of his plan. How exactly did people discover that Emily was missing?” You asked, curious about the rest of the unsubs plan. 

“Well, it was actually kind of a fluke, but very helpful for us. Her boyfriend, Michael Adams, discovered she was gone when he came home early from work. He wasn’t supposed to be home for another six hours, but something had happened and they sent him home. He called 911 when he realized her phone, keys, and bag were all at home but she was nowhere to be found. They aren’t sure exactly what time she went missing, but at that point Michael had only been gone for two hours.”

“This guy had to have been stalking her. He knew to take her on a day she’d be alone for hours, he knew to cut the wires for the security cameras… this was meticulously planned,” Derek responded. 

“Except what he didn’t plan for was the boyfriend getting home early, and Emily’s face plastered everywhere. He thought he’d have more time to get away,” JJ added. 

“If he truly doesn’t want to be separated from her, it’s only a matter of time before he kills again. Anybody that gets in their way will die, if we don’t stop him. Wheels up in thirty.” Hotch instructed, dismissing you all as you separated to prepare for another trip. 

You lingered in the conference room for a moment, staring at the photos on the monitor. An uncomfortable feeling floated through you, chills up your spine as you stared at the crime scene. It was far tamer than most things you’d seen during your time here, but something about it made you uneasy. Spencer had noticed you staying back, and he stayed in the room as well. Once everyone cleared out, he cleared his throat to let you know he was there. You turned to him, not sure if you should tell him how you felt or not. Was it weak to say you were nervous? 

“You okay?” He asked calmly, his eyes avoiding yours as he waited for your answer. 

“I… just have a bad feeling about this case. Does that ever happen to you?”

“Mmm, yes.” He chuckled slightly, running a hand through his hair. “And usually, I’m right.” 

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

The plane landed in Cincinnati only a few hours later, cars awaiting to take you to the police station upon arrival. You were grateful to hear that they were able to pull the security footage from the lot Emily was abducted, and it was ready to be viewed when you arrived at the station. 

You got in a car with Derek and Spencer, a duo that you usually tried to avoid. Derek always joked with you and Spencer that the two of you had a crush on each other. Although it was slightly true on your part, and your heart did race every time Spencer walked into a room, it was embarrassing to see Spencer so confidently deny any feelings for you. 

But, Hotch sent the three of you to the station, instructing you to study the security tapes. The rest of them were going to talk to the boyfriend and visit the crime scene. You sat awkwardly in the back seat, trying to keep quiet, not wanting to say anything that would entice Derek. 

“Judging by the way he worded this note, our unsub is most definitely in love with Emily. Do you think she knew him?” Spencer turned to you, and then to Derek, waiting for someone to respond. 

“It’s impossible to say. There was no sign of forced entry in the apartment.” Derek responded.

“They think she was taking her trash out when she was abducted. Explains why she left all of her things inside, and the door was unlocked,” you added, wanting to be a part of the conversation. Although it had been almost a year, you still felt like you had to constantly prove yourself when you were with them. 

“Even if she knew him, you wouldn’t get in someone's car without your phone, or wallet. He had to have had a weapon,” Derek said. 

“The gun he used to kill everyone in the gas station, probably,” Spencer muttered. You all stayed silent for the rest of the drive, your brain taking a quiet moment to think through the details of the case. 

The police station wasn’t too far from the airport, and you got there pretty quickly. You always felt so small in the police stations, usually dealing with male detectives or sheriffs or cops. You felt like you’d drown in testosterone, and everyone would be so busy in a dick measuring contest that they couldn’t save you. As you walked into the station, you were greeted by yet again another male detective who reeked of desperation and Viagra. 

“Hi, I’m Detective Elijah Guthrie. Thank you so much for coming.” He shook all of your hands, welcoming you into his station. 

“Where do you have the security tapes set up?” Reid asked quickly, realizing the urgency of this case, and that we didn't have time for small talk. 

“Conference room. Everything you said you needed is set up there, as well.” 

“Awesome, we should go get started, then,” Derek smiled, leading the three of you into the room. 

You all sat down and watched the tapes, replaying them over and over to catch every detail that you could. Luckily, the unsub cut the wires after he took the girl. It seemed sloppy, on his end. He had to know eventually that we’d get the footage. But he was smart enough to make sure his face was nowhere in view. Although, his car was still in view, and you were able to pull a plate number. 

“Garcia, baby girl, can you hear me?” 

“Loud and clear. What can I do for you, my sweets?” 

“Run a plate for us. Ohio plates, number EUE 8561.” 

“Of course, give me uno momento....” You could hear the sound of Garcia typing away, finding the mysterious man. In all honesty, you weren’t sure if any of these cases would get solved without her. 

“Alright, I got your man. 24 year old Jacob Lane.” “Are we sure our unsub didn’t just steal this guy’s car?” 

“Good point, Garcia check to see if Jacob has any connection to Emily.” 

“Gotcha… oh, man. Looks like he grew up in the same town that she did.” 

“Well, that’s suspicious,” Derek responded, raising his eyebrows. “Alright, thanks baby. Try and dig up some more on this guy.” He hung up the phone, staring at the paused video in front of him. 

“(Y/N), you call Hotch and give him the update. There’s a good chance this guy’s our unsub. Reid, call JJ and have her ask the boyfriend if they knew this guy.” You and Reid both looked at each other and nodded, standing up and walking into the hallway to complete your tasks. You dialed Hotch’s number swiftly, listening to the ringing as you awaited him to answer. 

“Hotchner,” he answered, sternly. 

“Hey, it’s me. I think we got our guy- Jacob Lane. The car that Emily got into was registered to him, and he grew up in the same town as her. Garcia is digging up some more info, and Reid is on the phone with JJ, gonna see what we can get from the boyfriend.” 

“Alright, well we’ve just been informed there was another shooting. This time at a motel not too far from the gas station. We’re gonna head there, now.” 

“How many, this time?” You asked, dreading the answer. 

“Six. Doesn’t look like anybody made it out.” 

You stayed silent, your head spinning as you thought of six more dead bodies, six more grieving families. 

“Thanks, Hotch.” You hung up your phone, walking back towards Reid and Derek. 

“Detective Guthrie just told me there’s been another shooting,” Derek said to you, unaware if you had been informed. 

“Yeah, Hotch just told me. We have to get this guy before he does this again.” 

“Unfortunately, most cases with spree killers like this end in hostage situations, and eventually suicide by cop. Spree killers' motivations are usually very similar.” Reid stated, his voice emotionless as he rattled off his facts. He was obviously right, and you felt sick as you thought of standing face to face with this man, 

“I’m gonna go talk to Emily’s parents, see if they knew anything about Jacob. You guys stay in here and go over everything we have so far, see if we missed anything.” 

“Alright. Thanks, Derek.” 

He left the room quietly, walking out to find the family. You started looking over the video again, straining your eyes to see if you could make out any overlooked details. But it was the same every time, there was nothing new to report. You were angry, not feeling any closer to catching this guy. 

“What do you make of this?” You asked Spencer, hoping his genius brain would come up with an explanation yours couldn’t. 

“He loves a girl, tries to take her away with him, gets caught and panics, starts killing anybody that calls him out. It’s pretty straight forward. Although, the way he’s killing them is unique. The actual crime seems rushed and panicked, but the killings themselves and calm and exact. One shot, the same place. It’s too… perfect.” 

“He’s killed before,” you concluded, feeling your heart racing as you thought of more victims at the hand of Jacob. 

“Yes, but most likely in the military. These are execution style deaths. This M.O. is very specific to military personnel.” 

“And you would be correct, boy genius,” Garcia shouted through the speaker on the desk, her voice scaring you slightly. “Jacob Lane was in the Air Force. He was deployed once to Iraq, he got back about six months and was recently relocated to Cincinnati.” 

“So something must’ve happened between Emily and Jacob in the past, and when he moved back and saw her again, it must’ve been the trigger. Topped with PTSD, he could’ve easily snapped.” 

“What exactly did he do in Iraq?” 

“Ah, that is classified information, according to the US government. But no worries, nothing is too classified for me. Our buddy Jacob executed war criminals during his time overseas.” 

“Well, that explains the M.O.,” you chuckled, running a hand through your hair, shaking your head in disgust. 

“Other than that, he had a relatively normal life. Average in school, normal family. He bounced around colleges a bit before deciding to enlist, but there’s no red flags.” 

“Could you find any other link between him and Emily?”  

“Well, that’s the other thing. Jacob deleted all of his social media accounts when he got back from Iraq. Twitter, Instagram… everything, gone. But, just because he deleted it does not mean the record doesn’t exist somewhere. I am currently trying to unlock all of his accounts and see if I can find anything, but it’ll take a bit.” 

“Alright, Garcia, call us if you get anything. Thank you,” you replied, disconnecting the call. Spencer had stepped away for a moment, answering his phone. 

“If this guy had a perfectly normal life, why is he doing this?” You asked, your nails digging into your palms in frustration. 

“The military… doing what he did… it could mess a lot of normal people up. Plus, there may be more to the story than we know.” 

“Yeah, there is. Listen to this,” Spencer said, walking into the room and putting his phone on speaker. 

“Hey, it’s me,” JJ said, her voice flowing softly through the phone. “So we talked to the boyfriend, and there is a long history between Emily and Jacob. They met when she was 18, and they were both dating different people. They had apparently had an affair of sorts, though, leading Jacob to break up with his girlfriend for her. But apparently Emily decided to stay with her boyfriend and ditch Jacob. That’s when he joined the military. Before he left for training camp, Emily’s boyfriend committed suicide. Blamed Emily and Jacob for ruining his life.” 

“Jesus…” you muttered under her breath. 

“Well, it gets more interesting. Emily picked up and moved to Florida, after that, transferring to a college down there. She was apparently trying to start over. Her and Jacob didn’t talk for two years, but he was relocated to the same town she was in, and they met up again. They started dating, and that’s when he got deployed. About a month after he left, Emily claimed he started acting really weird, to the point where it was scaring her. She broke up with him and blocked him on all social media.” 

“The boyfriend knew all of this?” 

“She told him because apparently she was afraid of Jacob. She told her boyfriend that if something ever happened to her, she was sure it was Jacob.” 

“Why wouldn’t he have mentioned something sooner?” 

“He didn’t think it was a big deal. Plus, until two weeks ago, he was living in Florida.” 

“Exactly. And he got moved here, found out Emily was here and had a boyfriend, and that was probably the trigger.”

“What I don’t understand is how Emily just… dropped him? She was clearly terrified of him, what could he have possibly done to give her that reaction?”

“He could have told her what he was doing down there. That job is not for someone with a soft heart. She probably couldn’t stomach the thought of being with a man who…” You couldn’t finish your sentence, your mouth choking up your words as they tried to come up. 

“We need to make a statement to the press. The public needs to know who to look for.” 

“I’ll call the media and put together a press conference. I’ll see you guys soon.” JJ hung up, and Spencer put his phone away. The three of you stayed silent for a moment, staring at each other in awe as your minds wrapped around the information. Part of you felt bad for him. He joined the military to get away, and they stuck him in a job that ruined his humanity. And the girl you love turns away from you when you need her most… 

“The hardest part of the job is not to feel bad for the unsubs,” you laughed, your mouth dry and your forehead sweating as you felt more and more anxious about the future of this case. 

“It’s refreshing, actually. To see someone else with enough empathy to feel for someone who has done so many bad things. It’s a sign of a beautiful heart,” Spencer said, his eyes meeting yours as he spoke. You smiled at him, redness creeping up your cheeks as you felt your nerves tingling at his words. 

“Oh, I’m sure Spencer thinks about your beautiful heart all the time, (Y/N),” Derek teased, causing Spencer to blush as well, and quickly dart his eyes away from you. 

“No… c’mon Derek. Why do you have to turn everything into this? Can’t I just be nice to her!” Spencer groaned, pushing Derek slightly on the arm in frustration. 

“We’ve got a problem,” Det. Guthrie yelled, bursting through the door of the conference room and, thankfully, interrupting Derek. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Emily escaped. She just walked into the police station.” 

“How is that a problem?” 

“Because Jacob just shot up another place. A diner, this time. We just got the call a minute ago. We’re only a few minutes away. He must’ve come back to the city after Emily got away.” 

“(Y/N), you and Reid go to the crime scene. I’m going to stay here and talk to Emily.” 

“Alright, we’ll leave now, call us if you need anything.” 

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

The drive was quick, helped greatly by the use of your sirens. You sped quickly to the diner, you and Reid the first to arrive on the scene. The witness who had called it in greeted you with sobs, not having time to console her as the two of you went quickly inside. The scene was similar to the previous ones, eight bodies, all shot directly in the center of the head. You noticed something wrong, pretty quickly. 

“Reid…” you whispered, staring quietly at a table next to you. 

“What’s up?” 

“Do you see that?” You pointed helplessly to a small plate accompanied with an ever smaller cup, stars and smiley faces printed onto it. 

“That’s a kids meal.” 

“There’s not a kid in here, Reid.” You looked at him nervously, your whole body burning as you imagined the child that Jacob took. 

“There’s a note here, (Y/N)...” Reid handed a crumpled napkin with a sloppy note written across it. 

“Is it an address?” 

“It’s definitely the unsubs handwriting. I studied the previous note, there’s no doubt he wrote this.” 

“This address is only a few minutes away…” 

“We need to leave, now. I’ll call Hotch and tell him to send backup.” Reid ran out of the diner and to the car, and you followed behind quickly. Other cops were now pulling in to the crime scene, and you let them know you were leaving but to stay with the bodies and take care of calling the families. You still weren’t sure who in there had a kid, and you wanted to notify the rest of the family if you could. 

You and Spencer called Hotch in the car, letting him know where you were headed. He told you him and Rossi would be there in twenty minutes or so. Spencer was swerving in and out of traffic, trying to get to the location the unsub left for you. When you finally arrived, you were surprised to find a secluded barn near a small patch of land. You pulled up and got out of the car, arming yourselves as you got near the building. 

“We should wait for backup, Reid… this could be a trap…” you said with caution, a wave of nerves flooding you as you stood in front of the building. 

“He could have a little kid in there, (Y/L/N)... we have to go in.” 

“Spencer, you know that’s not the right protocol.” 

“When has protocol ever done us any good?” 

Spencer starting walking towards the door, and you couldn’t bear to see him go in alone. You followed reluctantly, walking through the open door. As soon as you walked through the doors, you saw him. The face in the photos was finally right in front of you, holding a small item in his hands. You couldn’t make out what it was, you were too focused on the boy, who was tied to a chair next to him. 

“Hello, agents. Thank you for joining me,” Jacob said, smiling devilishly at the two of you. 

“You need to let the boy go, Jacob,” you instructed, your voice remain quiet and calm and your mind spun in circles. 

“That’s not how this is going to go. Do you know what this is?” He waved the device in his hands, smiling down proudly at it. You knew then exactly what he was holding in his hands. 

“It’s a bomb…” 

“Exactly. And if I don’t get exactly what I want, it’s going to detonate. Are we clear?” He looked at you specifically, as if he was nervous you would be the one to try and defy him. 

“Yes,” Spencer answered for you, looking upset as he realized you were right. This was a trap, one that the two of you walked so easily into. 

“Put your weapons down, first,” he instructed, pointing at your guns. The two of you placed them down on the ground slowly, avoiding eye contact with him. 

“Wonderful. Now, I want you to call your boss and tell him I would like to speak with him.” 

You nodded in agreeal, slowly pulling out your phone. You dialed Hotch’s number, your hands shaking as you pressed the buttons. Your heart felt as if it was going to explode, bringing the phone to your ear as you listened to it ring. 

“We’re almost there, what’s going on?” His voice made you feel safe, calm, knowing he would get you out of there safely. He had to get you out. You couldn’t die… not here… not now. 

“Hotch, we’re here with Jacob, and he’d like to talk to you,” you said shakily, your voice trembling as you got the words out. 

“(Y/N)? What’s going on?” 

You handed Jacob the phone, which he ripped out of your hand and placed to his own ear. 

“Listen carefully. I want her back. I want a plane out of here for both of us, or I blow the kid and your two agents up? Is that understood?” You strained hard to see if you could hear Hotch’s voice, but you couldn’t make anything out. You looked over to Spencer, who was staring helplessly at the ground. 

You didn’t bother listening to the rest of Jacob’s conversation with Hotch, not wanting to hear his voice anymore. It was you sick to think about him. When he finally finished, he threw the phone back at you. He walked up to you, grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling your face back to look at him. 

“It would be a shame to kill you… You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, smiling down at you. He pulled hard on your hair, knocking you to the ground with all of his force. You slammed onto the dirt hard, feeling your body jolt as you landed. You felt pain shoot through your body, screaming loudly. 

“Don’t touch her again!” Spencer yelled, running towards him violently. Jacob pulled a gun and pointed it at his head, which made him stop in his tracks. 

“Don’t take another step. Since you want to be her knight in shining armor so bad, why don’t you go ahead and tie her up,” Jacob instructed, pointing the gun at a pile of rope in the corner. Spencer walked slowly over to it, grabbing the rope and tying your hands behind your back. As he tightened the knot, he whispered to you quietly. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, the words bouncing back and forth in your head as Jacob pushed you to the ground and continued to tie up Spencer. After he finished, he sat Spencer next to you. He had put the two of you in the corner, out of sight and mind. You were aggravating Jacob, you could tell. If he could just tie you up and place you in the corner, he wouldn’t have anything to throw him off. 

“Are you okay?” Spencer whispered, looking concerned at your now bruising body. 

“A little sore, but I’ll be fine. What are we gonna do here, Spence?” 

“The team will get us out, okay. I promise.” 

You watched Jacob on the other side of the room, pacing slowly as he awaited another call that would give him his demands. You started to hear the sound of sirens pull up, feeling slightly relieved knowing they were right outside those walls. The sound of helicopters overhead was prominent, and you noticed Jacob wincing as it got louder. 

“Does the sound of helicopters bother you?” You shouted to him, trying to get his attention away from the boy. 

“Shut up! Do I need to tape your mouth shut, too?” He was aggravated, waving his gun around and placing a hand on his head. 

“My dad was in the Army… helicopters reminded him of his time overseas. He’d have a panic attack every time he heard one…” You said, trying to relate to him. If you couldn’t use force to bring him down, maybe you could sympathize with him. 

“It’s just so loud…” he winced, closing his eyes as if all of his senses were betraying him. 

“Let me talk to my boss, if he knew how much they hurt you I bet he’d call them off…” 

Jacob considered your proposal for a moment, the idea of the pain going away calling to him. But he was smart, and realized quickly what was going on. 

“Are you trying to trick me? Do you think you can outsmart me? I have been ahead of you this entire time.” 

“Except you didn’t plan on Emily’s boyfriend coming home early, and you didn’t plan on her escaping, did you? None of this was a part of the plan.” Spencer looked at him desperately, and you wanted nothing more than to curl up next to him and feel him holding you. If you were to die here, today, it would be nice to die in the arms of someone you cared about. You desperately craved his touch, especially now. Who knows if this would be your last chance to experience him? 

“All I want is for me and Emily to be together, okay? Don’t you get that? Have you ever been in love?” 

“I have… and I know how much you love Emily. But if you kill us, you’ll be killing yourself, too. And then Emily will never get to hear how you really feel. Because that’s what all of this is about, right? You just want her to know how you feel?” 

“I told her everything. I bore everything to her and she walked away. It… hurt.” Jacob was crying, tears crawling down his face as he shook the gun in his hand. 

“I don’t want to die without telling the girl I love how I feel. I know you don’t, either, Jacob. We can all walk out of here and you can see her again.” Spencer looked at you, his eyes pleading for your attention as he spoke.

“I don’t want to get locked up, I can’t live like that…” Jacob continued to cry, and you desperately wanted to give him a hug. He was evil, and you despised him, but he was broken and alone and needed a hug.

“No, no. I am not letting you talk me into this… you both shut up and leave me alone!” He yelled, running away from you and back to the young boy. You let out a long sigh, feeling your own tears starting to form. You really thought you might’ve had him this time. But he was too smart, and he wouldn’t fall for any of your tricks. 

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I should be able to save you, and I can’t…” Spencer was pale, his forehead sweating as he leaned against the wall. 

“Spencer, don’t apologize. It is nobody's job to take care of me, except myself.”

“I don’t want to die in here without telling you how I feel, (Y/N).” 

“What are you talking about, Spence?” 

“I am crazy about you. I have been in love with you for months. And every time I think I might want to say something, Derek makes some stupid joke and you get awkward and I realize if I say anything I’d risk our friendship but I’m sorry, I can’t die here with you and not tell you I’m in love with you.” 

“Spencer…” was the only thing you managed to get out. You opened your mouth to try to say more, but the sound of your cell phone ringing stopped you. Jacob ran quickly to the phone, picking it up and placing it on speaker. He looked at you to make sure you were listening. He wanted you to know your entire lives depended on whatever happened on this one phone call. 

“Jacob?” A small female voice came on the line, one that you had not recognized. “Jacob, it’s me, it’s Emily.” 

“Emily!” He cried, placing a hand over his heart as he heard her voice. 

“Jacob, I am right outside for you. I promise we can walk away together if you just leave your weapons inside and come out.” You could hear the pain in her voice and she said those words, knowing how hard it must’ve been for her to do this. But she was the only thing that could end this, that could save four lives. She didn’t have a choice. 

“How do I know you’re telling the truth? You ran away from me, Emily!” Jacob cried into the phone, his voice shaky and his face swollen from tears. 

“I have always loved you, Jacob. I have told you everything. You have to believe me. I’m right on the other side of the door. Put down the weapons and show them you’re unarmed, and we can walk away together.” 

You watched him closely, patiently waiting for his response. You had never been a religious person, but you prayed to whoever was listening that you could walk away from this. 

“Spencer… if we don’t make it out, I want you to know I love you, too. And if we do get out of here, please take me far away from here,” you cried, leaning your head on his shoulder and begging the universe for your life. He kissed the top your head, a small comfort that calmed you down. You watched Jacob slowly look over at the two of you, staying as close as you could, savoring love even in the last moments of your life. 

You think it was that moment, him seeing two people in love and remembering what it felt like, that caused him to walk out. He slowly set the gun down, and another small device that you believed was the detonator. He walked through the doors, the sound of a bullet crunching through the air immediately as he stepped outside. You heard the screams of a girl, who was probably dealing with love and loss and pain all in one second, watching the man she loved and feared dying in front of her own eyes. 

SWAT and the Bomb Squad came in shortly after, JJ and Derek running in to find the two of you. Emily and Rossi took care of the child as the other two untied you. They walked you outside, JJ pulling you far from Spencer and into an ambulance. 

“JJ, I promise I’m fine, but I really need to go see Spencer…” You tried to stand up and walk past her, but you were a little dizzy and she pushed you back down pretty quickly. You saw Spencer arguing with Derek as well, probably for the same reason you were trying to push through JJ. 

“Can I take your blood pressure, Agent?” The paramedic said, holding up an arm band and trying to wrap it around you. You angrily refused, finally getting on your feet and walking away from JJ. She realized it wasn’t worth chasing you down, that you would get checked out when you were good and ready. 

You ran towards Spencer, who was still being blocked by Derek. You pushed passed cops and paramedics and everything in between, your eyes only on the man you loved. The man who loved you. When you finally got to him, he wrapped his arms around you in relief. He held you for a moment, before letting go and kissing you. It was a kiss full of life, celebrating existence and love. 

“Hah, friendly my ass…” Derek whispered, rolling his eyes as he walked away from the two of you. 

“Take me away from here, Spencer Reid.” 

“Wherever you wanna go.”

[exosmutfactory]

Six Phases 006 Pt 2

Originally posted by exo-stentialism

Who knew it nearly took 6 months to win your heart, and 6 phases for Baekhyun to lose his mind.

A/N: sorry not sorry 😇🚗💨🔥

[ contains: romance, fluff, angst, & smut ]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1)  P(2) | Part 6 P(1)  P(2)✓ ----- P(3)   P(4) 

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

Somehow, waking up early on Saturday mornings had become a routine since that weekend. Between the plague-like thoughts that disrupted my sleep and how Baekhyun cutely requested for breakfast the next morning, I dragged my tired body out of bed and quickly whipped up some bacon with scrambled eggs. He insisted that my cooking was the best before the flavor even settled fully onto his tongue, counteracting my every protest with flustering compliments. I recall accidentally telling him he was full of shit—it was only a simple meal, after all. What is that compared to the hundreds of fancy restaurants he has dined in?

"Your food tastes like home," He argued between pacifying whines, back-hugging me in a way that always weakens my defenses. I begrudgingly agreed after convincing him to have turkey bacon from time to time. Pork has its place, and I preferably don't enjoy the breakfast variety all too often.

It's ridiculous what lengths I would go for this infuriatingly attractive man. If my weekend to-do list full of breakfast, groceries, and laundry is anything to go by, I wouldn't oppose being considered as "whipped" for him. It is what it is, man.

Every Saturday I am up and running by the time the sunlight breaks over the horizon. Regardless of how late I end up sleeping the night before, my eyes automatically open between the hours of 6 and 7; ready to climb out of bed as quietly as possible. Thankfully Baekhyun is a heavy sleeper who is content with hugging my pillow to his chest while I sneak off to the kitchen.

The aches in my body become very apparent the moment my foot touches the carpeted floor of our bedroom, a familiar feeling—welcomed almost, though I'd never tell Baekhyun that. His ego when it comes to things like this is big enough as it is.

Suppressing a shiver at the wintry morning air, I reach for his discarded shirt from the night before, tsking quietly at the two buttons missing from the top of the material. I swear he's the most annoyingly endearing man I've ever met. There's no other explanation for why I'm already planning what time to sew the buttons back on, carefully picking them up from the floor and leaving them on top of our shared dresser.

Luckily the remaining buttons are enough to shield my shoulders from the cold of the large apartment; the bottom of the shirt brushing against the back of my thighs as I make my way out into the hallway, gently closing the door behind me. In times like these I am grateful for Baekhyun's habit of leaving his house-slippers right outside of our bedroom. I rarely use mine despite his constant chastising. Some things in life are better bare.

Slipping into the slippers with ease, a smile tugs at my lips while shuffling quietly down the hallway. I usually keep breakfast simple: scrambled eggs, a few strips of bacon—maybe a pancake or two on a particularly good morning. Today, however, I'm in the mood for something more. Omelets, cinnamon buns, and the little sausages Baekhyun has adored lately.

Checking on the buns in the small conventional oven on the counter, I whisk away at the raw eggs that will make up Baekhyun's omelet, smoothing out the yolk entirely. A light breeze and soft kiss pressed to my shoulder break me out of my concentration. I could recognize those pouty lips anywhere.

"You're up early," I murmur, leaning back against his chest. Tilting my head up, I smile at his cute sleepy expression.

"Mmm," He manages to capture my lips in an upside-down kiss that melts me to my very core, his warm fingers seeping through the fabric of my borrowed shirt. "What are you up to?"

"Breakfast," I breathe, cheeks warming as he pulls away, quickly checking on the sizzling frying pan in front of me before he can catch me admiring his bare torso. "I got the sausages you like, Bae."

"Bae?"

The top of my head nearly slams into the bottom of the cabinets as I freeze in my tracks, frying pan clutched in hand. Shit, did I say that out loud? My face might as well be 50 shades of red. "I—I mean-"

Baekhyun plants a kiss on my head that throws my every thought out the window. "I love you." He hums, hugging me warmly before walking to the dining table. The view of his bare back as he runs a hand through his sleep-tousled hair is way too captivating for six-thirty in the damn morning.

I put my attention back on the pan, hurriedly removing it from the burner to slide the sausages onto a tray. 30 more seconds and I would have burned the damn things had I not shaken myself back into focus. "Jenny and the gang are coming over today."

"Today?"

I raise a brow at his tone. The high-pitched inquiry of his voice at the mention of his friends is a little suspect. Who was the genius that bragged so much about my BBQ short ribs everyone ended up inviting themselves over to our apartment? Shouldn't he remember our plans for tonight?

"Yes?" I drag out, tilting my head, looking at him skeptically with a hand on my hip, raising my spatula. "Did you forget?"

His silent form sitting rigidly at the table is enough of an answer. "N-" I raise my other brow. "Erm—M-Maybe?"

"Uh-huh." If he wasn't so adorable after just waking up with his lips tutted in a confused pout, I would give him hell. "I bought groceries yesterday, so we're only missing the wine-"

"I'm on it." Baekhyun perks up in his chair as if douched in cold water, pulling his phone out of nowhere. "Hyerin," He murmurs groggily, fumbling clumsily for a couple of seconds and slapping it to his ear in his hurry. "I need a bottle of Dom Perignon by 6:30. Thank you." The call is over in the span of 10 seconds. He sets the device next to his glass of orange juice on the table, busying himself with gulping down half of its contents. It takes a while for him to notice my bewildered gaze. "What?" He mumbles; orange pulp on his pouty lips.

I narrow my eyes, lowering the grease-covered frying pan back to the stove. "Who was that?" And how the fuck you just ordering Dom Perignon as if it doesn't cost my entire education expenses? If you just bought the $50k edition, I swear, Byun Baekhyun—"My new secretary." He yawns, stretching his arms above his head with a soft, content smile. "Come here." He mumbles, opening them towards me, his sleepy brown orbs fluttering sluggishly. "I miss you."

For a moment I just stare at him. "I'm right here..." I mutter softly, growing more aware of his current state by the minute. Those dark circles are committing the worst crime by being on his precious face. Carefully sliding his omelet onto a plate followed by a few pieces of sausage, I can't help laughing a little to myself at the comparison of our meals. His omelet managed to come out better than the one I made for me, perfectly solid compared to my result of scrambled eggs. No matter what, he gets the very best from me—I'm taking the biggest cinnamon bun though. That delicious treat has my name written all over it, it's mine for the taking. Besides, I can risk a sugar-crash unlike Mr. 12 hour shifts over there. Noting his drowsy form nodding off at the table, I quickly reach over to start the coffeemaker.

The smile that lights up his face as I present his food to him makes up for the few seconds I burnt my hand earlier, trying my best not to burn our whole apartment down. Note to self: never daydream about eventful Friday nights while leaning over a hot stove. Had I been slower to react, I'd be nursing my hand back to health with a frazzled boyfriend refusing to let me so much as brush my teeth on my own—it gets overwhelming after the first day, trust me.

Settling down on his lap under the persuasive encouragements falling from his irresistible lips, I hold up a piece of sausage to shush his drowsy mumblings. As cute as he is, he needs his morning protein before he can wake up and function properly. Especially after working 60 hours two weeks in a row. I respect his enthusiasm as a semi-workaholic myself, but damn am I worried. What kind of crazily time-consuming clothing line is going on in his beautiful head this time?

Baekhyun finishes his juice while I pick at my food, lazily twirling his hair between my fingers. Some days I ask myself why I’m still here, why I still try, why I continue on in this relationship that has more blurred lines than direct answers about our future. To tell the truth... I never expected to fall in love again. I never saw this coming—never saw him coming, when my sole way of survival has been spotting things from miles away. How did it come to this? How the hell did this man sneak past all my defenses so easily?

Maybe it was the smile he shot my way the first time we met or the way we had danced that Friday night, his body seeming to match so perfectly with mine. His comforting presence and sweet, brown eyes that hold all the stars in the universe. The countless late nights he has spent looking after me when I caught the flu from a combination of lack of sleep, stress, and poor life choices. He's always been there—always been here with me, but why… Why isn’t it enough? What is missing? How can I strip this weight off my chest that suffocates me more by the day?

"Baby?" Baekhyun's warm voice caresses my ear, comforting arms tightening around me.

"What if it happens again?" Jenny's worried face flashes vividly in my mind.

The memories come pouring in, making my mouth go dry as a lump forms in my throat. It takes everything in me to drag my eyes up to meet Baekhyun's inquiring orbs, plastering on another smile. The gesture is easier to manage with every sweet kiss his soft pillows plant on my lips. His heart-fluttering touch distracts my hyperactive mind for a while.

"Damn, Riley." Chanyeol practically moans, the sampling spoon I had offered him left to dangle pre-cautiously between his fingers. "Had I known you could cook like this, I would have come soon—ah!"

"Yah," Baekhyun scowls as I take the last serving plate from the counter to the table with a bashful smile, passing the tall man clutching the back of his head. "That's my girlfriend you're talking about." He mutters, lowering his hand, voice deepening in an unfairly attractive manner. "Watch your mouth."

"Geez." The giant huffs, glaring at him under the veil of his blonde hair. "You'd think you two were married with that—okay, okay!"

"When you two are done." The over-the-top chirp of my voice catches their attention; both their eyes widening like guilty little kids caught with their hands in a cookie jar. "Dinner is ready."

"Don't let me eat it all." Jongdae drawls, throwing an arm over the back of Jenny's chair, looking at them lazily, his brown eyes glinting mischievously. "Remember what happened last time."

Baekhyun and Chanyeol scramble for their seats as if their asses have been set on fire; an unusually quiet Jongin follows behind them, carrying a plate I forgot all about.

"Thank you." I gasp, quickly making room for the forgotten dish. "Set it down here, please."

Jongin nods, setting down the plate of cucumber salad next to the servings of Bulgogi. "I'm sorry Kyungsoo couldn't make it." He mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. "Something came up at the restaurant."

"It's alright. Wanna pack a to-go plate for him?" Tilting my head, I smile in understanding at the sheepish expression on his face. "If you think he'd like my food, anyway," I joke, resting my arm on the back of my chair as I continue to face him, relieved at the familiar hint of playfulness restored in his eyes.

"Oh he's going to love it," Chanyeol insists with a pleased hum, yelping at the smack Jenny lands on his sneaky hand.

"Where are your manners, Park?" She sighs, shaking her head, fiery red curls bouncing with the motion.

"Save some for the rest of us, asshole." Jongdae grumbles, subtly eyeing the cucumber salad.

Everyone's plate already has a soft taco shell, warm from a few seconds in the microwave. The toppings are placed on top of the two tables Baekhyun and I had to push together to accommodate our guests: fresh Korean lettuce, sour cream, and other ingredients that Jenny helped me choose—especially that bowl of melted nacho-cheese Jongin keeps taking glances at.

We all look towards Baekhyun once he settles in his seat. He leans forward to reach the middle of the table, bypassing the regular bulgogi for the one drenched in a home-made sauce, spooning some on my taco shell with a chaste kiss to my cheek. "Eat up, everyone," He murmurs sweetly, tired brown eyes twinkling.

Jongdae doesn't even fake-gag with Chanyeol and Jongin, he goes straight for the cucumber salad. The fresh smell wafts in the air amongst the various meat and spices, making Baekhyun's nose crinkle adorably. I carefully brush his freshly dyed hair out of his eyes, chuckling at the pout he shoots my way. "Did you really have to make cucumber salad, baby? Cucumber?"

"One man's trash is another man's treasure, Byun," Jongdae mutters, forgoing his personal bowl to grab the whole serving. No one says a word, we just share knowing smiles. And once Chanyeol pops the cork of the expensive Dom Perignon, the real party begins.

Endless tales of embarrassing high school cafeteria incidents spill forth from Jongdae's mouth as if shame has gone out of style. The details he shares at the expense of Chanyeol's seemingly innocent public image flying out the window right along with it.

"One second this guy looked like he was taking the biggest shit of his life, and the next thing I know, Lee Naeun from 5th period Physics is crawling out from under the table, wiping spulge from her lips. Like, Chanyeol, what the actual fuck bro? Couldn't you have taken your business to the 3rd floor Janitor's closet? I think I still have the key..."

If it wasn't for Baekhyun's quick hands, I would've sprayed a mouthful of wine across the entire table.

Unfortunately, Jongin had to head out right after dinner, promising to meet up again soon before hurrying to Kyungsoo's house, two plates clutched in hand. Chanyeol decided to stick around for longer to "let his two glasses of wine wear off"—this man has the metabolism of a beast, we know why he's really here. His reason is comfortably seated next to Jenny on our striped couch, sock-clad feet propped up on the coffee table.

"Dinner was nice," Jenny smiles, sipping leisurely at her water.

"More than nice." Chanyeol boosts from our leather recliner, raising his glass, tipping his head at me. "Your food damn near tops Kyungsoo's," He pauses, brown eyes widening. "Don't tell him I said that."

"No worries," I laugh softly, hiding in the safety of Baekhyun's shoulder. He shifts towards me, finishing his wine and setting the empty glass on the coffee table before wrapping an arm around my waist, brushing his lips against my forehead in a way that leaves my heart shaking. The white loveseat we're sitting on sinks further under our joined weight, and really, there's no place I'd rather be—except our king sized bed, that is. Baekhyun's firm grip on my bare thigh isn't helping my tipsy trance in the slightest. The universe knows I'd rather be getting drunk off of him right now.

"I'm going for a smoke," Jongdae mutters, rising from the couch. He leans down to Jenny for a kiss that leaves her beaming, going to retrieve his trench coat and shoes before slipping out of the door.

Good to see them doing well; I blink in surprise, smiling teasingly her way. I'm happy for her! It really is a pleasant surprise to see Jongdae stating their relationship in such a way; an immense improvement from their past encounters of Jenny nervously seeking affection and Jongdae down-right dodging it like his life depends on it. Public displays of affection are a sweet, straightforward way to say, "hey, this person means a lot to me," or, "back off, they're mine." Which personally sets me on romantic fire. Even if it's just holding hands, it can put me in high spirits—doing it with a certain, cheeky silver-haired man is just a bonus.

Jenny winks, fanning her cheeks that match the rosy shade of her hair before tuning in to Chanyeol's loud chatter.

Soft laughter rumbles in Baekhyun's chest as he engages in the conversation. His warm palm securely holds my hand when I slip my cold palm into his warm one. He presses a kiss to the back of it, pulling a silent giggle from my lips as he smiles at me with an arched brow, squeezing our intertwined fingers.

"Riley?"

I drag my eyes up to Jenny who's loosening her red curls by running her fingers through them. "Yeah?"

"Jongdae's not answering his cell," She murmurs with a worried frown. "Can you go check on him, please?"

And why can't you do it? — Or come with me for that matter? I raise a brow, getting up from the chair and Baekhyun's warmth with a silent sigh. "Okay. I'll be back." If I get kidnapped or spooked by some random asshole, she'll never hear the end of it. I really should ask Baekhyun to teach me a thing or two about hakipdo though.

Jenny beams, a peculiar twinkle in her eye, clasping my hand between hers. "Thank you!"

Uh-huh... I try not to eye her too warily.

"Take my coat, baby," Baekhyun murmurs, kissing the side of my wrist. "It's cold out."

"O-Okay." I clear my throat, pointedly avoiding the smug smiles of the other two in the room while walking over to the coat hanger.

Slipping on his brown, cinnamon-scented coat brings a giddy smile to lips—one I'm quick to hide in the soft fabric.

I slide on my boots before making my way to the elevator, not up for taking the 4 levels of stairs this late at night. Thankfully, that nosy neighbor down the hall isn't meeting me at the elevator tonight on one of his various late-night escapades. I've had enough awkward encounters with his lovers to last me a lifetime.

The lobby is empty except for a lone security guard who waves my way, face lit up in familiarity. Smiling back, I step out the crystal-clean glass doors of the building into the quiet night, quickly finding the man I'm looking for standing at the edge of the sidewalk. "Jongdae."

"Huh?" He looks over his shoulder, turning halfway at the sight of me, pulling a joint from his lips.

"You alright?" I pull Baekhyun's coat tighter around me, resisting the urge to shiver in the icy wind. "Jenny was looking for you."

"Looking for-" He chuckles, brown hair ruffling as he throws his head back in laughter. "Girl, please. I was instructed to come down here 5 minutes ago." He continues, inhaling deeply from the stick between his fingertips. "She ain't looking for me, she's looking for a way for them to chat privately and to make us talk..." He sighs, looking over at me. "I'm not exactly the best company for deep shit."

"O-kay then," I mumble, more than a little peeved, ready to turn on my heel in any direction other than stay here.

"Let's talk." He shrugs, exhaling smoke into the frosty air. I shoot him a wary look, barely taking a step in his direction. "I said let's talk, not have a screaming match." He mutters, rolling his eyes into the back of his head. "Why you all the way over there?" He follows my gaze to the stick between his fingers. "What? This?" He scoffs, smirking. "It's a joint, worst thing you'll get is the munchies."

Crinkling my nose, I take a couple more steps closer anyway, standing beside him, keeping a respectful distance between us.

"Listen." He sighs, taking another drag. "I know I've done some things that… I didn't necessarily have to do." He glances at me for a moment, and then faces the street lights. "Bros before hoes, you know?"

Yeah, I inwardly roll my eyes, focusing on a lonely snowflake evaporating before it reaches the ground. There's a lot to be said over people doing things that they didn't necessarily have to do. If I had a dime for every sleepless night I've had because of Jongdae's shameless mouth, I wouldn't be paying off my student loans anymore.

"Look." Jongdae takes one last drag, crushing the joint under his worn-out winter boots. "The way he is now is much better than the Baekhyun we knew back then." He nods a little to himself, meeting my gaze. "Still can't see why he decided to change his ways for you...but oh well." He mutters, lips quirking into a playful smirk at my small smile before facing the city lights again. Festival lamp-shaped snowflakes attached to the top of every streetlight beam against the dim backdrop of empty downtown buildings, prepared for the coming holidays. "You're alright for a best friend stealer."

A laugh escapes before I can slap my hands over my mouth, meeting his eye nervously only for us to both end up laughing; our amusement echoing loudly through the quiet night.

"Riley?" Jenny's confused voice peeps up, red curls rebelling against the hood of her fluffy white coat.

"Over here!" I cup my hand around my mouth, waving to get her attention.

She turns towards us, rounding the corner with quick strides. "There you are! I thought you got grabbed or something." She fusses, resting a hand on my arm, leaning closer to whisper in my ear, "Especially you. Baekhyun was two seconds from hunting you down with my head on his mantle."

"Jenny!" I snort, accepting her tight hug, my voice muffled in her puffy coat. "It kinda would be your fault though."

"I know!" She exclaims, viewing me from an arm's length away. "I was sweating out my hair."

"Baby?" That unmistakable honey voice calls. A head of fluffy silver locks and brown eyes peek around the building, catching light in the streetlights.

"Here, B," I soothe, chuckling as he speeds over to us, gathering me in his arms without hesitation.

"I thought I lost you," He mutters, hiding in my hair.

"She was gone for ten minutes," Jongdae deadpans.

"Ten minutes too long!" He pulls back to glare over at the brunet, hugging me to his chest with cheeks too rosy to be merely from a few moments out in the cold.

"Just how much of that wine did you drink?.." I narrow my eyes, cupping his flushed cheeks.

"Good thing you only bought one bottle," Jenny laughs nervously, slowly gravitating to shelter behind Jongdae's taller form.

"Enough to miss you." Baekhyun's breath leaves goosebumps on my chilled skin, his soft lips brushing my ear.

"Al-right, time to go before the lovebirds start mating." Jongdae grumbles, wrapping an arm around Jenny's beaming form. Their matching smirks have me scurrying to direct my tipsy boyfriend back towards our apartment.

"Uh—okay! See you guys next time!" I laugh to mask my burning face, gently pushing Baekhyun into the building.

"Goodnight! Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Jenny sing-songs, the smugness clear in her tone.

"Can't make any promises!" Baekhyun proclaims over his shoulder, much to my embarrassment. Thankfully he quiets down once we reach the elevator, but based on the wide eyed security guard, the damage has already been done.

Can the frozen ground just please open up and swallow me whole?

The view of this busy street differs from all the other times I've walked down it with Baekhyun by my side. Maybe because it's been almost 2 years since I've moved to this city, or that new boutique being set up at the end of the road. Whatever the case, the air is different—crisper, cleaner. Refreshing as I briskly walk to my destination, wanting to avoid being out in the cold as much as possible. The weather here is so much colder in the middle of December compared to how flowers were still budding around this time outside of my childhood home.

Humming a song that's been stuck in my head for days with my car keys spinning around my finger, I stroll into Privé Alliance's building, admiring the latest clothing line pictures hung up along the walls and waving to the new receptionist while making my way to the elevator. Many men and women in business attire are all over the place as per usual during the busiest months of the year. However, once I make it out of the crowd of chattering employees, the sight of a familiar face waiting in front of the elevator brings a smile to my face. "Kyungsoo!"

The short-haired man turns around. "Hello, Riley." He nods with a small smile as we step inside the open doors, pressing the buttons to the 5th and top floor. "Lunch date?"

"Hmm?.." Blinking a few times, I follow his gaze to the picnic basket clutched in my hand. "Oh! Yes." I chuckle, smoothing down my hair. "Sorry." Between nearly slipping on a patch of ice on the way over here and the pretty lights decorated all over the city, I've forgotten the reason I left our fridge in a disarray this morning. Who decided to store the sandwich meats at the back of the refrigerator? I know Baekhyun loves my home cooking, but damn, man, let me have a break too.

"It's alright." Kyungsoo chuckles, arching a brow. "Hopefully you can get him to relax."

"Relax? Coming from you!?" I gasp sarcastically, covering my mouth with wide eyes.

"Only because he's seconds away from firing half the 3rd floor." He mutters with a roll of his eyes, yet an apologetic smile forms on his face. "Sorry I couldn't make it to the gathering." He clears his throat while facing forward again, straightening his suit.

"It's alright," I smile, resisting the urge to chuckle at his flustered state, checking my outfit in the elevator's reflection. It may be a chilling 40 degrees—4 in celsius—but I can spare the warmth of my legs for a 2 minute walk from Privé's parking lot. No weather can tell me what I can and can't wear. If I want to rock a pencil skirt on the coldest day of the week, so be it! Plus, these two-inch heels couldn't be left behind. I can't show up at Baekhyun's workplace with the poor fashion choices I subject him to at home, so we're going, coolness over comfort.

"Life happens," I mumble, tucking rebellious locks of hair behind my ear. "I'm just glad you're doing okay." The smile that forms on his heart-shaped lips when I take a glance at him makes me beam back.

"I'll stop by sometime this week." He hums, black dress shoes tapping on the floor. "I just finished a new recipe."

"Recipe?" I blink, mildly intrigued, mentally running over the list of food I'm carrying for the 3rd time today.

"Fried ice cream cake," He smirks, nonchalantly checking his watch.

"Fried-" My jaw damn near drops to the floor. Fried? Fried!? The one ice cream Baekhyun banned me from attempting myself after burning my hand while frying fish a few days ago?! Which Baekhyun is half to blame, by the way—never sneak up on someone over a popping frying pan. It never ends well. Besides that, it also was the day I truly realized the stamina that man possesses. I have never seen someone react so quickly to shove my hand under ice-cold water in my life.

Searching for any cameras in the elevator, I step a little closer to the short-haired man, whispering discreetly behind my hand, "W-Will you bring me some?"

"The prettiest one," He promises, softly patting my shoulder, chuckling at the star-struck expression written all over my face. "This is me, I'm afraid."

"Huh?" I blink into focus, shocked to be on the 5th floor so soon. What the heck. What is it about elevator rides with Baekhyun and Kyungsoo that make them go by lightning-fast compared to the stifling, tension-filled ones with Jongdae? If you can read a room, it truly makes a difference. "Oh, don't let me keep you." I give a little wave, balancing the picnic basket on my forearm. "See you later!"

Kyungsoo nods, smiling with a wave of his own as the double doors close. It is at that moment that I freeze, recalling how Baekhyun mentioned he hired a new secretary a few weeks back. Well... shit—how do I explain why I'm arriving at his floor unannounced on a random Tuesday afternoon?

Do his employees even know we are dating?.. A small part of me doubts it. Why do I care? Oh, right—I fucking live with him!

By some miracle, no one is occupying the neatly arranged desk when the elevator opens on the top floor, saving me from the completely rushed explanation I have no idea how to even put into words. All that lies before me is an undisturbed walk to Baekhyun's office, the intimidating black door slightly ajar. I slip off my heels, rushing out of the elevator on sock-clad feet before the doors close. Baekhyun's businessman voice filters through the quiet air. He must be on the phone.

Shuffling as quietly as possible down the hallway, I peek into his office. My eyes quickly find his broad form leaning a hip against his executive desk, a phone pressed to his ear as he faces the floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the heart of Seoul. Impeccably dressed in a wrinkle-free, white dress shirt with his sleeves rolled up. His black blazer thrown over the back of his chair. Like always, the splashes of color in every corner of the room have my lips curling up, but I have to muffle a small giggle at the sight of a thin pink measuring tape hanging around his neck.

I slowly inch closer, discarding my coat and setting down the basket in one of the leather chairs. Smoothing my flower-patterned, white button-down shirt, I silently approach him, gently covering his eyes once he ends the call. "Guess who~"

Baekhyun stiffens for a moment before swiftly turning around, wrapping his arms around me and lifting me up, setting me down on his desk. He cups my cheeks in his warm palms, crashing his lips to mine before I can make a sound. "Thank god, it's you." He breathes, warm fingers sliding into my hair.

"W-Well—hello to you too." I barely manage to get out between his feverous kisses, making a noise in surprise when he pulls me flush to his chest. "What is it?" I ask softly, noticing the bothered look on his face; carefully running my fingers through his styled hair as he hides in my neck. "Another long day?"

"You have no idea." He sighs, looking up at me. "I was 2 seconds away from losing it."

"Don't-" I pause, thinking about it. A few memories of last week flash through my mind. "Well, you are kind of hot when you're angry..." In the proper context.

Baekhyun perks up, exhausted brown eyes regaining their sparkle. "Really?"

I hum to appease his hopeful expression, yelping when he pulls me into his arms, not expecting to be carried up from the desk so suddenly.

"Come here," He murmurs, walking around to sit in his chair, setting me on his lap. "I need strength to get through these reports."

Gently playing with his hair to calm down my racing heart, I tilt my head, "Do you have time for a lunch break?"

Baekhyun hums distractedly, kissing my forehead, holding me closer to his firm chest. "We can order in a little later."

Kyungsoo's words come back to mind while I watch Baekhyun continue to click around his computer, brown eyes squinted and brows furrowing more by the minute. I inwardly cringe at the move I'm about to pull, but… Our sandwiches' lifespan is ticking away. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

"But…" I pout, resting my hands flat on his chest, widening my eyes for effect as his focused orbs shift to meet mine. "But I made it."

"Let's eat now then," Baekhyun smiles, his steady gaze flickering all over my person. I swear I just witnessed his pupils dilating right before my very eyes. "Give me 5 minutes."

My lips quirk up, "One-"

"I'll set a timer." He laughs, shaking his head, reaching for his phone between his bright screen laptop and desktop PC.

Smiling in victory, I stretch across the desk to retrieve the basket, peeking at his computer accidentally. "Holy shit, is that Melody Hudson?" I straighten up, focusing on the magazine cover opened up on a famous website. "The model?" My eyes widen in awe of her tall blonde form modeling a stunning royal blue summer dress; the color bringing out the blue in her shining eyes. I place the basket on a clear spot on Baekhyun's crowded desk before rubbing his stiff shoulders. He must still be tense from work. "She's so pretty."

Baekhyun hums, placing a hand on my cheek. His gentle caress coaxes my eyes back to his. "But you're beautiful," He whispers, resting his forehead on mine, brushing a thumb over my lips.

There's nowhere to hide the red hue that springs onto my face, making him chuckle as I quickly turn back to start taking out our food.

"Would you like to accompany me to a photoshoot?" The tentative tone of his voice has me raising a brow.

"Sure!" Handing him his sandwich, I press a kiss to his cheek, carefully unwrapping my homemade fries. "I'd love to see you work behind the scenes."

"Actually..."

I look at him, mid-bite of my toasted turkey sandwich.

"I'll be in the scenes," He drops, soft lips quirking a boyish grin.

My grip on my sandwich rips a hole in the middle while preventing it from falling out of my hands. "I…"—Behind the scenes witnessing Baekhyun modeling?? With his god-tier body and knee-weakening smirks that have me crumbling from beyond a screen alone? Hell to the mother fucking yes! "O-Okay."

Baekhyun's brown orbs twinkle knowingly, an amused smile forming on his lips as he presses them to mine. "Great."

It's impossible to mask my excitement while slipping into the passenger seat of Baekhyun's Audi. The beautiful red highlights around the black interior never fail to leave my jaw dropped in awe, fingertips tempted to graze over every surface. I'd like to think a person's dream car matches their owner, and there's no denying how devilishly divine my boyfriend looks settling into the driver's seat.

Baekhyun's simple, black button-down shirt and matching jeans have me inwardly salivating—I don't even have the slightest clue of why he's going to a photoshoot today. Privé? A cover for a magazine? Possibilities are endless, but not just anyone can request an hour of his time during one of the busiest months of the year.

"Are you ready?" Baekhyun glances over at me, his unstyled hair tucked under a Privé corduroy camel baseball cap that I haven't quite seen before.

"Yes," I beam at him, tilting my head curiously. "Is that hat new? I don't think I've seen it before."

Baekhyun smirks, brown eyes glinting mischievously as he straps on his seatbelt. "Maybe." He rests a hand on the steering wheel and the other on my thigh, backing out of his designated parking space. "Hold on tight, baby. You're in for a long ride."

I blink, having no clue what kind of ride he means. When it comes to Baekhyun, you never know what you're getting yourself into, but you never really have to worry about it either. If I hadn't known him for a few years, I would have bugged him to tell me where we're going for the entire ride. But with a few years under our belt—and some long months spent sharing a close-knitted home—I can comfortably sit back and relax for the whole journey, because there is no Baekhyun without one.

•••

The parking lot outside of the building is relatively calm, with only a few staff members bringing in materials from their cars. Inside of the place, however, is a complete madhouse. Everyone is speed-walking to various rooms and popping up from behind every corner. Not a drop of silence in the heavily populated area.

"There's our man of the hour!" A tall, aged man steps forward to shake Baekhyun's hand, carefully cradling a camera strapped around his neck. "So glad you could make it. I hope we are not taking up too much of your time?" He inquires, pushing glasses further up his nose, glancing over at me.

"Oh no, of course not!" Baekhyun shakes his head, shifting closer to wrap an arm around my waist. "I invited my girlfriend to accompany me today." He clears his throat, reddening cheeks caught under the harsh spotlights. "I hope you don't mind."

"No, not at all," The man reassures, gesturing towards a staff member who quickly brings over a grey single-seat sofa. "The more the merrier. Here you go, Madam. Is the chair to your liking?"

"Yes, thank you," I smile, trying not to stutter, brushing my fingertips over Baekhyun's warm palm before taking a seat. He shoots me a little bashful grin as the photographer whisks him away, a team of stylists directing him to a chair on the opposite side of the room. It's amusing to see so many people fussing over his hair, pulling out hairspray, and presenting him with simple yet sexy articles of clothing.

A few other models are walking around in the same attire, giving off a cool vibe of the newest clothing line, but when Baekhyun steps out of a dressing room…

Holy shit.

No, seriously holy shit!

Baekhyun walks into the room, standing against a wall as stylists comb his hair over to the left side of his face, using sprites of hairspray to tuck the right side behind his ear. As if he doesn't look dangerous enough adorning a leather jacket, a black shirt with white scribbles I can barely make out from this distance, and camel pants with unique, black low-platinum shoes.

The staff directs him over to the area with a gray backdrop, lights and cameras focused all over the place. Baekhyun practically glides over there, oozing with that stunning Ceo confidence. At a closer look, I can make out the pretty image of open and outstretched hands in the white lines at the bottom of his shirt. The intriguing detail has my full attention until I feel a persistent stare.

I lift my eyes higher to meet Baekhyun's dark brown orbs—from me sitting in the back of the room or getting into character; I have no idea. Suddenly my red knitted sweater is a bit too warm despite not being in front of any bright lights. Just when I think it can't get any worse, the photographer announces that it's time to begin.

If I had known what I agreed to the other day, I would have been more prepared—or so I'd like to think. I mean, how does one prepare their feelings for watching their unfairly attractive, multi-millionaire boyfriend pose for the camera as if moments away from sweeping them off of their feet!? And not in a sweet way either. Nah, ain't nothing innocent about the lethal expression swirling within his dark brown orbs. Especially while they are pointed right at me.

The hairstyle they gave him just makes my situation worse. How am I supposed to sit still with this man gazing so intensely into the "camera"? Is this really the same drowsy Baekhyun who I have to wake up every Sunday morning? Where did his tiredness go? There ain't nothing exhausted about the way he is staring at me! And when they bring out a chair for him to sit on… No. Hell no. That's it.

Draping my sweater over the back of my chair has his covered lips curling up at the corners, I just fucking know it.

After a few more camera flashes, the stylists are back with a new outfit in tow, gesturing for Baekhyun to change. However, right as he is turning down the short hallway leading to the dressing room, someone comes rushing into the building.

"I'm so sorry I'm late!" A petite woman with a French accent flies into the hall. "Traffic was-" She skids to a halt, staring at Baekhyun as if she's seen a ghost, her brown wavy hair mid-loop of making a bun. For a long moment, nobody says a word, and then she's on the move, crossing the short distance within two furious strides.

Her slap echoes across the tall walls.

"To think I waited for you." She grits out between heated spews of French. Her gray eyes brimmed with tears shoot daggers into Baekhyun's wide-eyed ones. "To think I held onto the fact that maybe you actually cared." Her whole body shakes as staff members rush over to restrain her, calling her name over her loud obscenities in an attempt to calm her down, trying to pull her away from him before she can jump him. It takes three men to drag her back out of the building. A woman from the small crowd quickly follows, dropping a blue clipboard in her haste. We hear her panicked voice a split second before the door slams shut behind them.

I don't know when or how it happens, but I'm already on the other side of the room, reaching out for a stunned Baekhyun being fussed over by stylists. "Baekhyun?" My eyes flicker all over his shock-stricken face once they move out of the way for me. A lump forms in my throat at the look in his eyes. "B," I tentatively place my hand over his frozen one on his cheek, the red handprint visible between his fingers. "Baekhyun!"

He flinches, shaky pupils focusing on me. "Y-Yes?"

"Are you okay?" Emotions grip at my throat, making it hard to speak while my eyes keep shifting between his alarmed ones and his steadily bruising cheek. I take the ice pack a staff member hands over without a word, gently brushing his hand away to hold it to his face. "Come here."

Baekhyun silently follows me to the dressing room, seemingly in a daze as stylists vacate the room, closing the door on their way out. I lead him over to a swivel chair in front of a white vanity table, letting him settle before speaking. "What was that?"

"What was what?" He mumbles, breaking my heart at the sight of him pressing ice to his swelling cheek.

"You know what I'm talking about." Crossing my arms, I continue staring him down. "Who was that woman, Baekhyun? Why did she hit you?"

"I'll tell you later, baby." He avoids my eye and his reflection in the mirror, getting up from the chair. "Let's wrap this photoshoot up, hmm? Then we'll go home-"

Stumbling to reach the door before he does, I block his escape, looking into his conflicted eyes. "I'm not letting you leave this room until you answer me."

His lips twitch, "Baby-"

I cross my arms despite my racing heart, my stomach twisting in an ignored warning. "I need answers-"

"For fuck's sake, Riley!" He thunders, startling me so much I slam the back of my head on the doorframe. "Out of my fucking way."

I step aside without another word, turning my head away as he storms out of the room. The slamming door left in his wake has my heart jumping into my throat. Anxiety grips at my chest like a vice, making it hard to breathe. I latch onto a Privé clothing rack, holding onto it for stability.

Baekhyun's tone on the other side of the door is much calmer while talking to one of the staff. I wait for a few minutes, resting against the clothing rack until his voice drifts away; the loud taps of his shoes fading into the distance. No matter how far away he is—most likely continuing on with the photoshoot by the faint clicks of a camera echoing around the quiet building—I don't… I can't; I won't go back out there to watch him. No, not after that. I'm sure everyone in the vicinity heard what just happened.

Slipping out of the room, I gasp when I bump into someone else, my heart beating so hard it hurts to breathe. Could this day get any worse? Seriously? "I'm so sorry."

"You're fine," The same staff member I heard minutes ago with Baekhyun shakes her head, smiling in sympathy. "Tough morning, huh?"

I can only manage a deep exhale, nodding, "I guess you could say that, u-um—" I'm losing the battle against the sting steadily building behind my eyes. "Do you know where the bathroom is by any chance?"

"Just around the corner," She nods, pointing farther down the hallway. "First door on your left."

"Thank you," I breathe, hurrying down the hall. Before I can pass by her, however, I notice her angrily marking out a name with a black sharpie from the same blue clipboard that clattered to the floor earlier.

Nicole. The woman they dragged out earlier…

With tears finally breaking free from my sore eyes, I couldn't have reached the bathroom fast enough.

To my relief, the room is empty. Nothing but painfully bright lights and the porcelain floors to witness my current state. I walk up to the sinks with a shaky sigh, splattering cold water on my face. My reflection isn't a pretty sight to behold when I look into the mirror, bracing my hands on the countertop as I take in the streaks of mascara running down my face. The one day I decide to wear a non-fool-proof kind and this is what I get?

Sighing, I turn to lean my back against the counter, crossing my arms. The photoshoot is back in full swing with all the compliments the photographer is showering Baekhyun in. It's pretty pathetic of me to hide out in this ice-cold bathroom, but I rather shiver for a few minutes than face him right now. Something about the way he reacted earlier... To that woman, to me—doesn't feel right. Maybe I pushed him too far? I just… Do I not have the right to know who just slapped the hell out of my boyfriend? Hell yeah, I'll admit I want to know who she is because he's mine and she was acting as if she was waiting forever for him to recuperate her feelings, but it's not just about that. No—Nah. The deer in headlights expression on his face as her hand collided with his cheek will not leave my mind.

Whatever it is, whatever just transpired in front of me; something is off and I rather be out the line of fire while trying to figure it out.

"To think I waited for you" For what? For when? With the way things are going, I might never know the answer.

The lack of chatter filtering through the echoing walls of the room catches my attention. I tentatively peek out of the bathroom, stepping back into the hallway at the uncharacteristically quiet state of the building. Is the shoot over already? Pushing past my dimly lit surroundings, I head back to the dressing room, hesitantly standing in the open doorway. I'm confused to not find Baekhyun there, or in the main area when I poke my head over the edge of the short hallway.

"Excuse me?" I approach the nearest stylist, moving out the way of another one clumsily carrying out articles of clothing. "Have you seen Baekhyun?"

She shakes her head with a pop of her minty gum, giving me a solemn look. "Last I saw of him, he was on his way to the men's room on the other side of the building."

"Ah..." Dread fills my stomach, and something tells me that I rather not find out why. "Thank you," I murmur in passing, quickly making my way back out of the room, speeding down to the opposite hallway. The possibility that I got left behind in an unfamiliar part of the city twists my stomach into knots until I round the corner. I stumble to a halt, sucking in a breath. My heart breaks at the sight—and then the rage kicks in.

Baekhyun's broad form in his partially unbuttoned black shirt braces himself against the wall, looming over a model. Her hand is in his hair and their lips interlocked in an intimate kiss. The sight has my blood boiling—nah, it's turning into fucking lava.

"Wow." I bark out a laugh, loud and hollow, positively seething as he jumps back from her as if burned. "If you were going to cheat, you could have at least had the decency to do it behind my back." The smirk that forms on my lips is the worst kind, the ugliest kind, the kind that has fear flickering in Baekhyun's wide brown eyes. "Or was this your intention all along?"

"R-Riley-" He stares like a deer in headlights, hurrying over to me, smearing her red lipstick over his lips in his haste to rub it off with the back of his hand. "Baby, please keep it down. I can explain-"

"Nah," I shake my head, looking at him in disdain. Just the sight of him right now has me heating up with anger. I'm seeing red as the model smirks at me from over his shoulder. That bitch. "This is explanation enough." I spin on my heel before I do something I won't regret in the slightest, just for his sake.

Baekhyun's dress shoes tapping frantically behind me as I storm back into the main hall.

"Riley, baby." His grip on my wrist throws me over the edge. "Please-"

"What were you doing, huh?" A snarl forms on my face as I whirl back around, meeting his pleading eyes. "Gonna show her your failed attempts at lasting for longer than a minute?"

Everyone in the room pauses. The photographer almost drops his prized camera.

Baekhyun's face grows progressively red, and if it wasn't for the rage burning in my own veins, I'd be concerned about the vibrant hue going up to his ears right now. Just like his mishap a few days ago that would normally be insignificant, it was his grave mistake. The key that I used to fuel the fire to the flame in the most torturous of ways... Have I hit a nerve, Hyunnie?

His grip tightens on my wrist. "We," He barely gets out in an angered growl of his own, "Are leav-"

"Get your filthy-" I hiss, snatching my wrist out of his grasp, "Paws off of me." I grab my sweater on my way out, exiting the building without looking back. The bite of the cold wintry air is a relief for my heated skin. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"I drove." He says through clenched teeth, hot on my heels.

"And I'm walking." I bite back, walking past the car as he climbs into the driver's seat.

"Riley!" Baekhyun bellows, putting the Audi in gear and slowly following me out of the parking lot. "Get in the fucking car!"

I cross my arms, scoffing out a laugh. It doesn't matter where the hell I am, I'm not getting back in that car with him. Bringing me all the way out here just to pull that shit. He can kiss my ass. I knew I shouldn't have gotten in that car with him. If I had taken my own four-seat beauty that I left back at home, I'd be halfway on the way to Jenny's by now.

Baekhyun continues to follow behind me, honking obnoxiously, attracting unwanted attention from bystanders that whisper amongst themselves. Some of them pull out their phones. What a spectacle we would make for the front cover of magazines, endlessly entertainment for all their peering eyes. Pausing for a moment to weigh my options, I step towards the Audi with a sigh, climbing in without a word to the fuming man next to me.

Baekhyun drives on, clutching onto the steering wheel with both hands. His grip is so tight his knuckles turn white. I direct my gaze out of the passenger window, avoiding him at all costs within the confines of the car. The long ride home and walk up to our apartment does nothing to ease my rage. Anger continues to thump angrily in my veins as the past two hours replay in my mind.

Baekhyun unlocks the door and holds it open for me. I walk into the apartment with a scoff, moving to tug off my boots only for my back to meet the wall, the front door closing with a startling slam.

"What was that?" Baekhyun glares at me, fire burning bright in his brown orbs. He can't exactly tower over me, but by his mannerism, he doesn't need any extra height to get his point across.

"What was that?" I mumble, peeling off my shoes, ducking under his arm to cross the other side of the room. The longer I stay in these warm clothes, the more I die from the uncomfortable heat.

"No, what the actual fuck, Riley?" He shakes his head, long strands of silver hair dangling in his fury-filled eyes. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Fine." I retort, rolling my eyes and looking at him, "Who was that woman then?"

His nostrils flare. "Really?" He bites out, laughing in disbelief. "Is that really important right now?"

I cross the room in three strides, tilting my chin up to stand nose to nose with him. "It is to me if you haven't fucking noticed."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." He scoffs, stepping back. A cruel smile curls on his lips. "What should I do? I haven't paid Riley enough attention." All traces of humor leave his features, his minty breath washing over my cheeks. Baekhyun leans in again, his voice lowering into an angered growl. "Maybe if you weren't wetting yourself over me all morning, you'd figure it out."

I grind my teeth. "Who. Was. She?"

"For fuck-" Baekhyun reels back, his brown eyes rolling so hard into the back of his head a flicker of worry sparks in my chest before those dark orbs land on me again. "An ex-fling," he grits out. "Why does it matter?"

My hands fall limply to my sides. "Why didn't you tell me she would be there?" I ask. My voice is much quieter while I search his eyes for answers.

"What?" He scoffs, raising a brow. "How was I supposed to know she would be there?"

"Her name was on the roster-"

"I-" He shakes his head, pulling harshly on his hair. "What? Do you expect me to know the names of the women I've slept with?" A smirk quirks at his pink lips, his brown eyes so dark that his pupils have vanished in their mahogany depths. "Do you think I've kept some journal? " He purrs, grinning in delight when I shuffle uncomfortably on my feet. "Are you really that insecure?"

I stiffen. A bolt of something sinister shoots down my spine. Did this fucker just—

"Me?" I point to myself with wide eyes, laughing incredulously. "Me?.... You know, that's real fucking rich coming from you." I sneer, roughly tugging off my annoying turtleneck. What was once a reliable piece of clothing ends up torn in my fit of rage. I fling it out of my sight. Baekhyun's words loop over and over in my head. Even though I don't show it—they cut me. Deep. On a touchy subject. In a part of me I thought had died 2 years ago. He damn well knows it hurts when it's mentioned in such a menacing manner, and he still did it. For what? His weak stamina in wake of his long hours at work is suddenly the equivalent to the root of my trust issues?

My fingers curl so tightly into a fist, I can feel my nails pierce the skin. "You're one to talk." It's easier this way; keeping my back turned to him so I can mask the tears brimming my eyes. Who does he think he is? Who is he, period? How is this the same adoring man that was pursuing me the summer we met?.... It takes all my effort not to bolt for the front door—not to let my nose run or tears to stream down my face. No. I won't cry over him again. I won't let him win. Not like this.

Firm in my resolve, I take a deep breath before turning to him again. "You're not so confident, Mr. Big Shot..." My words falter at the sight of him ripping his shirt open, black buttons clattering all over the floor. "What-"

Baekhyun has me backed against the wall before I can utter another word. "Did you enjoy yourself?" He demands, holding my chin between his thumb and index finger. He peers down into my eyes; the familiar look held in his dark orbs has me quivering on the inside—and it isn't from fear. "Hmm? Did you enjoy embarrassing me earlier? Did you have your fun?"

I quickly recover. "Not my fault you don't know how to keep it in your pants."

"You wish you were in my pants." He grits out, lips curling mockingly.

There are so many things I want to throw up in his handsome face right now. So many little secrets and observations I've made over the past year that would make him falter—make him kneel. But today...

Today.

I choose violence.

Tangling my fingers in his hair, I yank on his delicate locks without remorse, pulling him into a brutal kiss of tongue and teeth. Baekhyun grunts in surprise, pressing me harder against the wall. The harsh clash of our mouths only seems to egg him on. The stinging bite he leaves on my bottom lip is nearly enough to break the skin. I don't know how long we stand there; my hands in his hair and his palms sliding down my back. There's no telling where he ends or I begin until the lack of air sinks in. His breathless puffs for air erupt goosebumps on my skin.

"Are we really doing this?" He pants, pulling away to brush his hair back. His eyes are more familiar to me now, softened by his calmer state, intense from the lust felt in his every touch.

I pause my exploration of his firm chest, arching a brow at him with a mocking grin. "Think you can last longer than a minute this time?"

Baekhyun clenches his jaw and steps away. For a moment, I worry if I pushed him too far until his lips crash back to mine. "Jump," He mutters gruffly, his grip near bruising on my ass.

"And if I don't..." The look in his eyes as he drags his dark brown eyes up to mine shuts me up entirely.

Baekhyun slowly leans closer, brushing his lips against the shell of my ear. "I'll fuck you against the goddamn window." The serious expression on his face combined with the threat is damn near intimidating—and I hate how aroused it leaves me.

Baekhyun hoists me up and walks to our room with quick strides, relentlessly keeping his lips glued to mine. He pushes open the door before dropping me unceremoniously onto the mattress. His lips are back on mine before I can chastise him for the mini heart attack, his impatient hands tug at the rest of my clothes. I let him pull off my pants and hurriedly move to unclip my bra in the meantime before his rough actions can rip the expensive fabric.

Baekhyun freezes above me, brown eyes transfixed on my matching red lacy set. It may be winter, but that doesn't mean I can't dress up nicely underneath endless layers of flannel and wool. Although, when I think about what happened not too long ago... Warmth fills my cheeks and I know I'm blushing way too hard to have done this countless times with him.

"Ah." Baekhyun tsks, stopping me from covering my chest. "Take it off." He breathes, soft lips brushing over my neck. "Let me see these tits bounce for me."

My eyes widen at his crude words, a gasp escapes my parted lips when he sucks harshly on a sensitive spot on my neck, pulling down the straps of my bra at a snail's pace. The poor clothing is tossed over his shoulder without a care in the world.

I'm no stranger to Baekhyun's habit of leaving pink and red hues on my skin, but today is different—today it feels like he has something to prove by trapping my skin between his teeth, marking me as his. He doesn't stop at my neck; his restless mouth ventures lower, painting my collarbones and chest with the shape of his lips.

I grit my teeth as he reaches my breasts, determined not to let him win me over so easily. It doesn't matter how much I want to melt under his warm hands mapping out the contours of my waist or tremble in anticipation at his breath fanning over my sensitive nipples. No matter what, I will not crumble... until he does first, at least.

Yeah—easier said than done with the way he's tugging my nipple with his teeth, roughly rolling the other between his fingers. It's all fun and games until his grip tightens on my hip, his pelvis grinding mercilessly against me. A move that has my back arching clear off of the mattress. He just presses me back down to the bed, continuing to alternate between each breast, pulling away minutes later with a wet pop of his lips. He's relentless in using every weak spot of mine. As if he knows what I'm trying to do.

"Not today, baby," He murmurs to my squirming form, chuckling in my ear. I can't help but bite my lip, breath caught in my throat when his hand slides down my body. His large palm covers my clothed core entirely. If it were any other day, I'd be flustered over how true his words from earlier were; the evidence of my previous admiring and current state of euphoria clear as day to his greedy hand, tugging at my last piece of clothing.

My heart races in the realization that I'm lying under him, almost completely bare, as he remains fully clothed besides the ripped shirt clinging to his broad shoulders.

"Ah," Baekhyun smacks my hands away, flashing a grin full of devious intentions. "Don't worry your pretty little head."

He's yanking my underwear down before I can get a word in, tossing them carelessly off the bed and spreading my thighs as far as they'll go.

"Always so ready for me," He muses, spreading my folds apart with his thumbs. I stop breathing entirely when he leans down, spitting onto my pussy. "Your hungry cunt has been waiting all morning for me, hmm?"

My lack of response doesn't bother him in the slightest as he meets my eye, sliding two of his long fingers into my core so suddenly I shout, grabbing his wrist. Baekhyun just pries my fingers off of him before interlocking them with his freehand, bracing our joined hands above my head. My eyes roll back at the burn of the unexpected intrusion. It's a dull, persistent ache while he shoves his fingers deeper into my cunt. He curls them up in a way that has me shaking at the seams, tugging at his silver locks as he brings me dangerously close to the edge. Right when I'm nearing my high, he pulls his fingers out, nonchalantly sucking on them while fiddling with his belt.

I gulp, relaxing back against the sheets. I can't even be mad at this point. Our argument ended the moment I started that fiery-filled kiss, but—

Baekhyun's belt clatters to the floor and his brown eyes have never looked so fierce—so carnal, I wonder if he plans to eat me alive. What I don't expect is for him to crawl further up the bed like an actual predator hunting his prey to hover over me again; his gaze not straying from mine for a second. The warmth of his body encloses me; it's second nature to relax under him when we're like this—when we're touching the tip of the iceberg before diving headfirst into the chilly depths of our lust. Sex with Baekhyun isn't like playing with fire; it's handling dry ice with bare hands.

And being in love with him is one of the most intense and excruciating experiences of my life.

We spend so much time eye-fucking each other that I'm not prepared for the bruising kiss he pulls me into, sliding his cock into my core without a warning.

"Ah—B-Baek!"

"Hmm?" He humors, his low voice filled with lust. "Now she speaks."

"Baekhyun." I gasp when he spreads my thighs wider; the pull from the unfamiliar stretch adds to his incessant pounding—his hips seeming to snap a mile a minute. Oh, please—please don't let both of us have muscle strain tomorrow morning. I swear I've never seen him move this fast for anything. Ever. Baekhyun, what the fuck? Have you started back up on your late-night visits to the gym or something? He's reaching depths he hasn't quite reached before, hitting a spot inside my core that makes me want to cringe away and slam myself onto his cock at the same time.

I yelp out when he tilts my hips at a different angle, not meaning to scratch his back so hard in my hurry to cling onto him. Baekhyun just groans, slamming rougher into me in retaliation, his teeth firmly bite down onto my shoulder.

"Baekhyun! what the—ah—fuck!?" I nearly shriek, appalled and aroused.

Baekhyun smirks, sliding a hand down to press his thumb on my clit. "What's the matter, baby?"

"B-" I can't even say his name without stammering, shaking under him when he slows down to roll his entire body against mine. The only thing I'm capable of at this point is gripping his shoulders, throwing my head back with a loud moan. I always thought of myself as not being a fan of sweat or having any strange, warm liquids touching me, but Baekhyun... Fucking Baekhyun. His sweaty chest brushing over my nipples is making me lose my damn mind—if I was feeling any more horny and adventurous, I'd lick the salty sweat off of his neck.

"Come on." Baekhyun pants with a satisfied grin. Sweat continues to drip from his honey-toned skin, sticking silver locks to his forehead. "Tell me."

The fucker, he knows exactly what's up. It's written all over his face. A part of me doesn't want to beg—my rational side. The one chastising me for falling into bed with him again in the first place. But I don't know how much longer I can take his teasing antics, so despite my stubbornness—despite the heart aching memories creeping up on me in such an intimate moment; I press my body to his.

"Fuck me like you mean it." I pant, yanking harshly on his hair, smirking at his pained hiss until his hips undulate in a new direction. The constant stimulation on my most sensitive spots has my high sneaking up on me so quickly, I don't have time to warn him.

"Bae—!"

Baekhyun's lips crash to mine, swallowing my cry of his name as I fall over that blissful edge. His cock is the only thing on my mind amongst the ringing in my ears—in the minute-long paradise where nothing else matters but our frantic hearts racing as one.

Baekhyun lets out a telling grunt before a burst of warmth fills me up. The remains of his release drip down my thighs with his erratic, shaky thrusts. He doesn't even pull out when he's done. He just leans tiredly over me, coaxing my lips into a lazy kiss. "You're the only one for me." He whispers as if sharing the biggest secret, all rosy-cheeked and wide-eyed.

Beautiful; there's no other way to describe him—in general, in this moment. Nothing compares to his mocha brown eyes that shine brighter than a million stars when his steady gaze sets on me. Nothing compares to the safety of his warm embrace that surrounds me. Nothing could come close to the way he drives me crazy in every single way. Love. Lust. Doesn't matter. If it's with him—for him, it's...

...

Is it worth it?

The emptiness I feel when he gently pulls himself from me triggers every painful memory imaginable: my birthday, the party, our summer fight, his ex, that phone call, his photoshoot...

Baekhyun collapses beside me on the bed, completely oblivious to the war going on in my head. He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me close to his beating heart.

I wait for him to fall asleep, brushing damp silver locks of hair out of his eyes as his breathing slows. He looks so peaceful like that, so innocent while his face relaxes with sleep. So... So welcoming, like home.

Tears stream down my cheeks, blurring my vision of his twitching brows and pouted lips. I hope he's happy; I hope he got what he wanted.

Carefully sliding out from under his loving hold, I quietly get dressed, collect my duffle bag, and slip out of the room, holding onto the doorknob for dear life. His quiet mumbles drift through the crack of the door, tossing and turning as if already aware of my absence. I have to cover my mouth to contain my sobs.

I love him—I really do, but I...

I can't do this.

I can't take this anymore. If he won't open up to me; if he thinks I'm... I'm unworthy of knowing his past—hell, fuck that. Apparently caring too much leads to being left behind, if that encounter this morning is anything to go by.

My laughter just ends in more sobs, the salty taste of tears on my tongue more bitter with the realization that once again, I've lost.

But at what cost?

The ache in my chest and between my legs is an answer within itself—the last push I need to retrieve my car keys from the counter.

If he wants to be that way, Baekhyun... Baekhyun can do whatever the fuck he wants. What's the difference between me and all the others? What use am I? Is it because I learned how to cook? Clean? I wonder how many of those late nights at work are actually spent bent over his sketchpad. Am I his personal little stay-at-home trophy? Does it feel good to show me around important events? After today, I might as well hang up the thought of ever stepping into his world again. No one wants a possessive girlfriend in their corner of the wrestler ring. No one needs a jealous, nosy, demanding burden weighing them down. And I have my high standards as well.

I can—and will not—be one of those girls.

Not even for him.

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1)  P(2) | Part 6 Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1)  P(2) | Part 6 P(1)  P(2)✓ ----- P(3)   P(4)

A/N: I can feel the pitchforks on the rise, l-listen (<.<) just trust me on this, not all is lost.... Or is it?  😇 I’ll try to finish the next part as soon as I can. *cracks fingers* let’s see what this troubled couple gets up to next.

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

Any chance you'd ever wanna write fanfic? Considering your banner gif -- specifically Hannibal? I'm rewatching it right now and would be beyond delighted to read something featuring either Will or Hannibal sick

This wonderful prompt from my friend Mongoose made me so happy! I started my sickfic journey writing different fanfics and will always love writing it. Sometimes it’s just nice to be able to use existing characterization rather than inventing characters. 

Set more or less in early season 1 (so no one knows what Hannibal is), but in a kind-of AU where Will doesn’t have encephalitis (yet?), so the fever in this fic is a simple flu fever.

Let me know if anyone has interest in a Part 2 with sick Hanni catching Will’s flu (because I can’t resist contagion). But lets be honest, it will probably happen anyway because I adore the murder husbands endlessly. Still, I’d love feedback on this!

Wrote all 3,000 words of this yesterday, proofread and posted it today because apparently I’m a maniac. No beta, we die like men.

Read more of my writing here (works best on desktop).

My asks are always open for new prompts!

House Calls (Part 1 of 2?)

Will Graham was awoken by his phone ringing at an hour that wasn’t really ungodly, but certainly felt like it in the moment. His eyes were almost gummed shut, and his head and chest felt uncomfortably full. The simple act of sitting up to grab the phone made him cough hard enough to make his ears ring. Yesterday he had tried to pass off these burgeoning cold symptoms as allergies, but today there was no denying it. He was sick. 

Of course it was Jack calling. Brusque and businesslike as ever, he didn’t even return Will’s greeting.

“Will, we need you at the lab. We’ve found some new evidence for the bludgeoning case.”

“Jack, I’m not sure I can come in today. I’m really not feeling well…”

“I won’t take no for an answer, Will. No games. I need you. I’ll see you in an hour.” With a click, the line went dead. 

With a miserable sigh, Will slowly pulled off his blankets and slid to the edge of the bed, shivering in the temperate air in his room. He felt like crap. Still, there was no arguing with Jack. He tried to convince himself he might feel better if he got up and moved around some. 

Getting ready took him longer than usual. His foggy head made him clumsy, it hurt to move, and he kept having to stop to blow his nose, or else he would be dripping snot everywhere. He hadn’t started sneezing yet, but he sensed it was only a matter of time. He also couldn’t decide what to wear. His torso and head were uncomfortably warm, but the rest of him was freezing cold, and everything seemed to irritate his skin. He internally cursed Jack and his stubbornness throughout the whole arduous process. 

He arrived at the lab exactly 1 hour and 15 minutes later, when it should have been 45 minutes. He felt Jack glaring at him as he shuffled in, but he ignored him. The rest of the team was already assembled, and they all stood staring at the evidence or looking at computers.

“You’re late, Will. Nice of you to join us so we can get started. These fragments of the latest victim’s skull, some of her teeth, and her diamond earrings were found at a location exactly 100 miles from the location of the body. What do you see here?”

Will approached the silver tray holding the items Jack had described with his usual reluctance. They had spent the previous day combing over the crime scene site, and he could still hear the woman’s screams in his mind. He really didn’t want to revisit her final moments again today.

He tried to focus, but out of nowhere an overwhelming tickle overpowered his sinuses. He barely had time to bring his elbow to his face before:

“Hnxxt’chf! Hkktt’oo! Hxxshht!” 

He stifled them as best he could, but they were messy, and he wasn’t sure how successful he was at containing them. He quickly produced a tissue from one of his many pockets, wiping his red face awkwardly to a chorus of blessings from the rest of the team. 

“Don’t sneeze on the evidence! What’s wrong with you?”

“Sorry, Jack,” Will mumbled thickly. “Those came out of nowhere. Won’t happen again.”

Will again approached the silver tray, feeling worse than ever, for the sneezing had flared up the dull throbbing in his temples to a splitting headache. As he stared at the items, trying to force his mind to cooperate, his vision began to blur and sway, but not in the way he expected. Darkness licked at his peripheral vision, and he felt his knees buckle suddenly. Just as he was about to fall, a strong hand grasped his bicep and kept him more or less standing. He blearily turned to see Dr. Lecter at his side, scrutinizing him expertly. He hadn’t even realized the doctor was present until this moment. As he got his bearings again, Will half-heartedly tried to support his own weight, but his legs continued to tremble, and he still couldn’t see straight. Dr. Lecter kept his hand firmly where it was, and placed the other at his back to better prop him up.

“Jack, it seems Will is under the weather. I can feel how feverish he is through his shirt. I’m sure you can see it in his eyes just by looking at him. He will be of no use to you today. Him staying would only increase the chances of him collapsing. I will take him home right away,” Hannibal said firmly.

Jack glowered. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick, Graham? I don’t want you here infecting all of us. Go home. I’ll handle this case myself.”

“Thank you, Jack. Come, Will. I’ll drive.” 

Will hardly heard this exchange, for he was still struggling to remain conscious. Next thing he knew, he was being propelled by someone much stronger than he out the door, across the parking lot, and into an unfamiliar car. Looking around in confusion, he saw Hannibal sit down beside him in the driver’s seat. 

“I’m taking you home, Will,” the doctor patiently repeated. “You’re very ill it seems. Do not worry. You are in good hands. Just lie back and rest.”

“Thank you, Dr. Lecter,” Will mumbled, closing his eyes immediately. This was his first time riding with Hannibal, and any other day he would have appreciated the pristine, high-end vehicle and the nearly silent engine, but he fell into an exhausted doze right away. 

He was unable to truly sleep however, for his nose itched furiously. He kept using his sleeve to wipe away errant drips, and more than once he pinched his nostrils shut to keep from sneezing on the spotless dashboard. After a while, Hannibal startled him by producing a beautiful, monogrammed linen handkerchief from somewhere in his suit and handing it to him. 

“I can’t take this, Dr. Lecter, I’ll ruin it,” croaked Will with a weak cough. 

“What else are handkerchiefs for? Please use it. It will do better for your nose than your sleeve.”

“Thank you,” Will managed, blowing his nose gratefully. 

“Try to sleep. We have several miles to go yet.”

“Yes… But how do you know where I live?”

“You told me once, and I never forget such details.”

“I see.” Will wasn’t sure this was true, for he didn’t remember ever revealing that detail to anyone he worked with (an intentional choice on his part), but he wasn’t about to press the issue. With his nose somewhat clear, he was finally able to lean back and sleep in the warm car.

It seemed he had hardly closed his eyes though, when he was startled by a cold blast from the door opening. Hannibal was standing at his side.

“We have arrived. Out you come, Will.”

The cold breeze irritated his sinuses and immediately overwhelmed him again. He didn’t even have time to cover his face:

Hegghk’CHOOOO! Hehggk’CHUH! Heh’kiht’CHOOOF!”

He sneezed right in Dr. Lecter’s face. Of course the poor man leapt back right away, but the damage was done. Will stammered an awkward apology, fumbling for the linen handkerchief to wipe up the evidence. Hannibal chuckled ruefully, patting his face dry with his sleeve.

“It’s quite all right. Such things happen. I’ll just remember to be a little more careful around that nose of yours from now on. But let’s get you inside before it happens again.”

Will limply dragged his legs out and stood with a wobble, not meeting the doctor’s eyes. Hannibal’s warm hands were there to support him right away.

“This is some cold,” Will mumbled groggily. “Never felt so weak.”

“I would be more inclined to think you have the flu, Will, judging by your symptoms. I’ll know more when I can examine you inside.”

“Sounds about right,” Will rasped as Hannibal assisted him onto the porch and through the front door. 

His dogs started to bark as soon as the door opened, but seeing it was Will, they quieted down right away. They more or less ignored the doctor, hardly even bothering to sniff him. Something about this was off to Will, but in his muddled state he couldn’t put a finger on it.

Hannibal set him down on the couch right away, helping him to remove his shoes and jacket and replacing it with a blanket. Will laid down on his side immediately, wrapping himself up like a burrito to try and ease the shivers. His head was still pounding. He had to remember to tell Hannibal that he had medicine in the bathroom. 

The doctor had gone back outside, but returned quickly with a small black bag. This he set on a nearby table, and opened it to remove a stethoscope, tongue depressor, thermometer, and other medical odds and ends. Will hated doctors’ offices and the sight of the implements made him vaguely queasy, but he mamfully sat up again with Hannibal’s encouragement and allowed the doctor to examine him. 

The doctor seemed unperturbed after listening to his lungs and examining his throat and ears. The thermometer however had bad news to give. After being under Will’s tongue for a few minutes, it beeped raucously, making Will wince. Hannibal examined the reading, clicking his tongue sadly.

“103.7. I think we have Jack to blame for that. You shouldn’t have left this house today, and now you have the fever to prove it. Why did you let Jack convince you to come?”

“He insisted. He makes it difficult to refuse,” will croaked weakly. “And I didn’t think it was so bad.” 

“Pleasing Jack isn’t worth your own health, Will. Remember that.” 

“Easy for you to say,” Will mumbled.

Hannibal only sighed. “I can tell you’re feeling miserable. Let me find you some medication to ease the symptoms.”

“I have stuff in the bathroom cabinet,” Will said with a painful-sounding cough. “Behind the mih- mee- mirror--Kihh’tCHEWW! Hihhggh-CHOOF! Gihh-CHUUH!” 

With a groan, Will fruitlessly searched for the handkerchief he’d been given. Hannibal handed him tissue from the box nearby. “Gesundheit. Those sounded painful.”

“They were,” Will sniffled again and again, trying to clear his head. “So do I have the flu, doctor?”

“It appears so to me. While sneezing so much is uncommon with the flu, such a high fever is uncommon in a cold, as is the inflammation in your ears. You seem to have a good deal of joint pain too. All of this points to more than a cold, Mr. Graham. You’ll need to take it easy for the rest of this week. I will take the liberty of informing Jack.”

“After I sneezed in there, I don’t think he’ll be asking me back any time soon,” Will muttered sheepishly. “But thank you, Dr. Lecter.”

“My pleasure. But my patients call me Dr. Lecter. My friends call me Hannibal. I hope you will do that same.”

“Are we friends?”

“I consider you a friend, Will. Would anyone other than a friend come to look after you when you’re ill in bed?” As he spoke, Hannibal rummaged around in the medicine cabinet, looking for what he needed.

“I suppose that’s true. Though I’m not exactly in bed.”

“But you would be if I weren’t here, no?”

“Fair point. Well then thank you, Hannibal.”

“You’re most welcome. So, here is some medicine, as you requested. Let me fetch you some water. Or would you prefer tea?”

“Water now, and tea soon. If it’s not too much trouble. But you don’t have to stay. I can look after myself. I promise you I’ll stay in and rest.”

“I won’t hear of it. You are ill, and I’m already present and eager to assist you. I’ll see to it that you’re as comfortable as possible before I go.”

Will was about to argue further, but before he could, Hannibal headed into the kitchen and began preparing to make tea, effectively ending the conversation. Sick and miserable as he was, Will gave up the fight and simply lay back down and closed his eyes. After all, it was nice to be looked after every once in a while, and the little house didn’t feel quite so empty with another person in it.

Over the next hour or so, Hannibal puttered in and out of the living room, bringing Will things while simultaneously working on things in the kitchen. He first prepared tea for them both, and sat with Will to drink it after helping him sit up yet again. Before he left, he made sure Will was propped up on a pillow and warmly covered. He also went out to his car a few times, bringing in odds and ends. 

Will listlessly followed all of this, dozing at times, or miserably sneezing and coughing at others. Every time he sneezed, the doctor was at his side to ensure he was well, or else blessed him earnestly from the kitchen. 

Lovely smells began wafting out of the kitchen eventually, though it took Will quite some time to realize it, with his plugged nose. The thought of any food made his stomach growl hungrily, for he hadn’t eaten much yesterday due to the grisly case they were investigating, and had eaten nothing today. 

He weakly levered himself up to lean against the side of the couch after a while, because lying down for too long made his head throb even more, and also in expectation of food. He couldn't stop shivering when he was sitting up though, exhausted as he was.That was how Hannibal found him when he reemerged with 2 bowls of soup shortly thereafter, weaky shivering against the arm of the couch and once again in a half-doze.

Hannibal noted that Will’s teeth were nearly chattering with chills, and after setting down the two bowls, he approached to briskly rub Will’s arms and chest through the blanket before handing him a bowl of soup.

“Look sharp, Will. I don’t want you spilling this soup with your shivering. It wasn’t easy to make with the limited ingredients in your kitchen. Still, I think you’ll find it most satisfactory, and I won’t have it wasted.”

“Thank you Dr.-- Hannibal,” said Will, thickly as ever, his consonants all but lost to his stuffy nose as he sat up slowly.

“Eat up. This will do you some good. I sense it’s been quite some time since someone cooked for you. “

“Your suspicions are as accurate as ever.” Will made as if to grab his bowl, but instead was forced to turn his face into his shoulder for a volley of sneezes:

“Heh-gh’CHOO! Heh- heh’krrh’CHNXT! Hehhh- NXXT’chuuuhh!”

“It seems--”

Will held up a hand to stop the doctor as his breath scissored yet again:

“Kihh’nnxttch’OOOF! Ah- ah-KSSHHOO! KERCHOOO!”

Will pressed both hands to his throbbing head with a groan, which was a bad idea, because the groan turned into a nasty cough that felt as if it was splitting his chest open. 

When he finally began to catch his breath, he sensed a hand on his shoulder, supporting him. Hannibal gave it an encouraging squeeze before he released his grasp.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure that was as pathetic to watch as it felt. What were you saying?” Will carefully blew his nose, trying to avoid another coughing attack, and also prevent another sneezing attack. 

“I was saying, it seems all your symptoms are competing for your attention at once. This must be a nasty bug indeed.”

“It’s always like this when I get sick. It happens rarely, so it’s always worse than it would be for most people. My father was the same way.”

“A blessing and a curse, then.”

“You could say that.” Finally Will was able to take a mouthful of soup. He could hardly taste it, but it warmed him instantly and felt soothing to his abused throat. He eagerly finished the bowl as quickly as his streaming nose and shaking hands would allow, though the shaking was much better by the time the soup was gone.

“I take it you approve then. Good. I’m pleased with the finished product myself.”

“It was perfect. Thank you.”

“There’s no need to keep thanking me. But again, you’re most welcome. Now, shall we turn something on the television here with which to entertain ourselves?”

“I’ll only fall asleep if you put something on,” said Will with a cough.

“Of course, for that is my plan. You won’t breathe well if you lie down in bed and try to sleep. Also this room is likely much warmer than your bedroom which has been closed all day. So it seems the best course of action is to aid you in sleeping right where you are.”

“I see. All I’ve wanted all day is to sleep. So I’ll take whatever assistance I can get at this point.”

“Good man. Let me find a cooking show somewhere. That will be quite enough to entertain me, and I think the perfect backdrop for you to sleep to.” 

Hannibal did just that, while Will got comfortable against the side of the couch. Just to test himself, he actually tried to watch and follow the show, and sure enough this was the perfect way to ensure he fell asleep all the faster.

Some unknown amount of time later, Will slowly regained partial consciousness. He heard the TV still playing before he opened his eyes. He also became aware that he had shifted in his sleep and was no longer leaning back against the couch, but leaning on something to his side, a warm comfortable presence.

Not fully awake, Will realized he was leaning against Hannibal. He mumbled a hoarse apology as he shifted back the other way, already nearly asleep again. 

“It’s quite all right, Will,” he heard, as if from a great distance. “If I was uncomfortable, I would have moved you. Feel free to sleep however you like.”

Will did not respond, for he was lost again to a deep sleep. 

Another unknown amount of time later, Will awoke again. The TV was still playing, but the couch was unoccupied except for himself. He was bundled comfortably against the arm of the couch and covered in an extra blanket. 

Looking around groggily, he determined that Hannibal had left. His suit coat and bags were gone, and the kitchen was dark and quiet. Further inspection revealed a note left on the table in Hannibal’s neat script:

“I had to return to my own home for the evening. You seemed much better as you slept, so I didn’t want to wake you, but I apologize for leaving without saying goodbye. I will be back to check on you in the morning. I have left the soup in your fridge and prepared the kettle for you to make tea whenever you wake. Make sure to keep yourself warm and hydrated. 

Sleep well.

H.L.”

Will flopped back down with a chesty cough. Hannibal would be back in the morning. Will was surprised to find that thought calmed him and somehow warmed him. Someone cared enough to want to continue making sure he was okay. He hadn’t experienced that in far too long.

He painfully levered himself to stand after he caught his breath and headed to the kitchen to make tea. He planned to drink it, feed the dogs and let them out, then go straight back to bed. Perhaps when he woke again, Hannibal would be with him. He found he hoped so.