#checks computer clock. what year is this from

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not accepting my little brother's forgiveness gift?

For some preliminary context, my little brother is SPOILED. Like, REALLY spoiled. He's only 4, but my mom lets him get away with just about EVERYTHING and it makes me angry.

Anyways, the other day I was about to load up my PS1 when I noticed a FOUL stench coming from the console. Opened it up to be greeted with a bunch of crumbs and what appeared to be an entire COOKIE stuffed into the top of it. Didn't take me long to figure out that the ONLY person who could have done that was my little brother. I confronted my mom about it, and she said she'd take care of it.

She came back around 20 minutes later with my little brother, who had a tinfoil ball with toothpicks sticking out of it. He said he was sorry and offered the... thing? ball? to me. Of course, something that takes all of 5 MINUTES to make isn't going to make up a PS1, so I didn't accept it (though I didn't say that to his face) and instead went to go throw it away. As I did, my mom pulled me to the side and yelled at me, saying that my little brother MADE it for me and that I should be thankful for the gift.

Sorry, but there's NO way I could accept that. AITA? I like to think that I'm not, but you guys might feel different.

What are these acronyms?

[bluelockmaniac]

𝐑𝐈𝐍 had promised he'd take you out tonight. you'd been incessantly bothering him for the past few weeks, whining for any sliver of attention you could possibly leech off of him. after all, one could say you had been deprived of any means of affection throughout your one-year relationship with the professional football player.

you had dismissed the fact that he'd probably offered to take you out so that he could cease your desperate clinging around his neck, or the trivial soft pecks you'd randomly plant on his cheeks.

"you should go back home now," he had said indifferently, gaze completely focused on the football match on his computer. "go pick an outfit for tomorrow or whatever."

it was currently evening. you were sat on a bench right in the heart of the city, dressed in the finest attire your wardrobe could muster. it was hard not to doll yourself up when this was merely your second date with rin. you looked down at your phone's lock screen; 5:59, the clock read. a few more seconds until he'd show up. you sighed expectantly, closing your eyes as you patiently waited. he should be here any second now.

however, seconds passed into minutes, and minutes stretched into two painfully prolonged hours in which you've hopelessly waited for him, consistently checking your phone for any calls or texts in vain.

suddenly, you heard the rowdy, distant murmurs of swarms of people— they were all arriving from the same direction in huge numbers, dressed in faux football jerseys, wearing content expressions on their faces. as they neared, your ears were able to properly catch on to what these fans were saying.

"that match was so intense, i didn't think i was so into football!" one girl giggled.

"you're not into football," her friend interjects, "you're into itoshi rin, dumbass!"

"can you blame her? he's so dreamy, and crazy good at football, as well!"

"yeah, 'hottie was the reason they won tonight's match. as always."

oh. your ears were ringing. the cherry blossom tree that had been protecting you from the cruel rays of the sun seemed to lose its initial sweet scent. tears built against your lash line, and soon enough were spilling down the flushed curves of your cheeks, leaving scalding trails as they fell.

you could barely see through your blurry lenses as you reached for your phone and immediately scrolled through the list of contacts, stopping at his name. you took a deep breath, wiping off hot, salty tears with your arm, shaky fingers clicking on rin's contact. block.

ah, right. you had forgotten. or, rather, your brain had conveniently omitted the fact that this would have been your second date had he not ditched you the same way the first time.

© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform

[leeknow-thoughts]

୨୧ POMEGRANATE

𝝑𝝔 son of Hades!Chris x mortal!fem!reader

𝝑𝝔 cw : forced marriage, coercion, kidnapping, Hades is an asshole, Chris isn't an asshole, Soft!Dom!Chris, Sub!Reader, daddy kink, dd/lg, fingering (r. rec), innocence kink, oral (r. rec), spanking, oral fixation, inexperienced! reader, d/s dynamics, age play (not super extreme), p in v, creampie (use protection!!), pussy spanking, pet names, degrading kink, praise kink, bulge kink, lmk if I missed anything!!

𝝑𝝔 hyung line Greek gods m.list | maknae line Greek gods m.list

You were always too busy to think about having boyfriends and sex and things that were normal for women of your age. You never thought it was weird how you avoided romance, even in your teenage years. You thought romance was stupid, and it would just get in the way of your goals.

You busted your ass to graduate valedictorian in college, countless sleepless nights and study sessions is what your life consisted of for four whole years.

You reminisced about your hard work every single day that you worked this stupid low level job. You worked for the largest construction company in the country, Erebus Construction Enterprises. It was owned by one of the wealthiest families in the nation, the Bahngs, the oldest son of the family being the current CEO and his father being the head chairman of the company.

"Y/n," your coworker snaps you out of your trance, "hey, there you are, the team was going to go get drinks tonight? Do you wanna join?"

"No thanks," you reject, "I have a project I have to complete."

Your coworker gives you a look of sympathy before grabbing her coat and clocking out.

You refocus on your project as the desks next to you become empty, workers clocking out, hoping to enjoy their long weekend. Not you though, you still had to finish typing up a paper for the marketing team and make a slideshow for the next accounting meeting.

Hours passed by as you kept typing on your computer. "You know work hours ended-," a voice begins, you snap your head up to look at the man who said it, you find a man in an all black uniform staring at you, he checks his watch, "- five hours ago," the man finishes.

"I'm just finishing up a paper and a slideshow for a meeting we have next Tuesday," you explain to the man.

You take a moment to stretch, leaning back in your rolling chair. "Your name is?" the man asks.

"Y/n Y/l/n," you introduce yourself.

"Ah, just wanted to be sure," the man says.

It takes you a moment to register what he said and reply with, "wait what do you mean?"

"Follow me," he instructs.

When you don't follow after him he stops in his tracks, approaches you again and gives you a stern warning, "you should do what you're told, now come," he grabs your arm.

He drags you out into the hallway and the more you try to squirm and get away from him, the tighter his grip on your hand is. He pulls you into the elevator and presses one of the red buttons on the bottom.

You watch as the sign on the elevator changes from 'elevator' to 'hellevator'. "You might want to hold onto something," the man in black warns.

"Wha-" you begin.

Suddenly you're falling, well the elevator is falling. You scream as it plummets down. You don't know where it's taking you but your stomach sinks more every second you're falling.

Suddenly the elevator halts, and you have no time to brace yourself as you hit the floor. "Don't say I didn't warn you," the man chuckles lowly.

"What the fuck!" you scream, "what the fuck is this place!?"

"It's just hell, honey," he says the answer like it's obvious.

"What?" You look at him with shock and disbelief.

The elevator dings before the doors swing open, "don't go to the basement unless you want to meet Cerberus," the man gives a final warning before grabbing your purse and pulling out a quarter, "there that covers your fine," he hands me back my bag.

"My fine?" You question.

"You just crossed the River Styx, honey, I'm the ferryman," he says it like it's obvious.

You are given no warning before he pushes you out of the elevator, you try to run back inside, but the doors close before you can. You slide against the wall and cry.

You were in hell?

But why?

Ferryman? Cerberus? Like in Greek mythology, the spirit who helps the dead cross the River Styx, and the giant three-headed dog?

Your head fell into your hands and you tried to make sense of the whole situation. A tap on your shoulder causes you to look up, "please- just let me go home!" you plead through a sob.

The woman in front of you holds out her hand for you to take, when you don't take it she grabs your hand and pulls you with her.

She pulls you into a large dining room, the table is set with a collection of magnificent foods, there are four seats, none of them are full.

All of the windows are covered with curtains and the only light source in the room comes from the many candles scattered around the room.

The woman pulls you to one of the seats, and makes you sit down on the leather surface. "Who are you? Let me go!" you try and push the woman off you.

"Tch tch tch, silly girl," a deep voice scolds, "she's dead, she can't speak."

You look to find where the voice comes from, you find the man who spoke standing in a doorway. He wore a simple back suit with perfectly polished leather shoes and a clean haircut.

"Servant," he calls to the woman holding your wrist, "go fetch Chris and Persephone."

The woman bows to the man and lets go of your wrist before leaving out the door she brought you through. "Y/n Y/l/n," he says your name.

He crosses the space from the doorway to the seat directly in front of the one you were sat in. "Who-what are you?" you stutter.

"Well you could call me the devil, but I am not nearly as evil as him," he looks at you like you should know this like it is obvious and you should've known all along, "did the Ferryman not explain to you where you were?" he asks as he takes off the black blazer, placing it on the back of his chair.

"He just said we crossed the River Styx," you recall to the man.

"I see, still-," he pauses and opens a bottle of what looks like red wine before pouring it into one of the wine glasses, "you're a very intelligent young lady, I assume you realized where you were on your own."

"Why am I here?" I ask the man.

"Well it's a really long story, it started off with my nephew, he was given a message for me by these three old hags- that are referred to as the Fates. So being the messenger God and all, my nephew- Hermes- brought their letter to me," he takes a sip of the win before he continues, "imagine my surprise when that letter tells me the name of my eldest son's fated wife, and it turns out being your name. One of the new accounting hires," he man cocks his head.

"Y-you know me?" you mutter.

He hears you clearly though, "I know of every soul to exist, yes I know of you."

"W-why is this happening?" you inquire.

The man sighs, "like I said, you're fated to marry my oldest son," he replies.

"I-I c-can't be," you choke out, trying not to sob.

"Well unfortunately for you, you are," the man says dryly.

"S-so you're the devil?" I ask.

The man smirks, "Hades actually, Satan works in Tartarus exclusively," he explains.

"Hello darling," a woman says from the doorway.

She is utterly stunning, a small frame and dark brown eyes with red rosy cheeks and plump lips. "Hello Persephone," the man-Hades-greets.

The woman walks to your seat and wraps her arms around you, "hello y/n," she says as she hugs you tenderly.

Your words are caught in the back of your throat, "P-persephone?" you somehow are able to mumble.

"That's me, dear," she breaks away from you and walks to the other side of the table, sliding into the seat next to Hades.

"Where's Chris?" Hades asks her.

"He's in one of his moods, you know he doesn't want to do this, darling," Persephone says softly.

Hades rolls his eyes and whistles, within a millisecond a large wolf with red eyes is sitting beside your chair, "go get Chris," Hades tells the ferocious looking dog.

The dog trots away, out the doorway. "Oh, y/n dear, help yourself to the food," Persephone says gently.

You look at the meal prepared on the table in front of you. "B-but I d-don't want to have to stay here like you do," you confess to the woman.

"Don't worry about that dear, besides that whole myth is just a lie, Hades didn't force me to live down here," Persephone calmly corrected.

"Yeah, but he coerced you, I read the story, you were kidnapped by him and Zeus and they brought you down here and you accidentally ate a pomegranate and now you have to stay down here for 3 months every year," you clear your throat then continue, "and those 3 months are known as winter because your mother, Demeter, won't tend to the crops, that's why they all die."

"You haven't the slightest idea of what truly happened," Persephone says firmly, "I chose to stay with Hades on my own volition, winter happens because my mother takes a break during those three months. And Hades and his brother never kidnapped me."

Your mouth falls slightly agape as you listen to her.

"Oh," you say when she finishes talking.

"Yeah," she clears her throat.

"Dad, I told you," a voice comes from the doorway, you turn to look at the man, he was handsome, with dark hair and dark eyes, "I'm not doing this," he continues.

"You don't have a choice," Hades tells him, "now, sit."

The man reluctantly takes the seat next to you, and gives you a quick glance. "Y/n you really should eat," Persephone insists, "it's very good."

"Do you promise me that if I eat I won't be stuck here for forever," you ask her.

"You won't be stuck here forever," she promises.

You hesitantly reach across the table and grab a serving of the food, putting it on your plate and taking a small bite.

The food was delicious, the best you've had in your life. "It's good isn't it?" Persephone asks.

"The best," you compliment.

"Well, Chris, aren't you going to say anything to her?" Hades asks the man next to you.

"Yeah," he sighs, "I don't want to get married."

Hades' first slams onto the table, "Chris that is enough. You know your fate, she knows hers. There is not a choice in this matter," his voice booms.

Persephone gently rubs circles on Hades' shoulder, trying to calm him. "Y/n," she begins, "once dinner is over, you and Chris will be going back to his house, it's just a short boat ride away, if you would like anything you can write to Hephaestus," she explains.

"What about my apartment? And my job?" you ask.

"This is your home now," Hades says, rubbing his temple, "you can visit Earth anytime you like, but you must come back here before dark."

A clock on the wall chimes ten times, "well it is time for you two to go," Hades instructs Chris and you.

Chris sits up and looks at you before extending his hand for you to take. He senses your caution and smiles at you, trying to make you feel more calm.

"Go with him now, y/n, or else," Hades warns.

You hesitantly take his hand and he swiftly leads you out of the dining room and through the house, he opens the front door and steps out with you, the same man that brought you down here is standing on a boat that is floating in that is floating on a glowing surface.

Chris lifts you up onto the boat before climbing in himself. "Where to?" the ferryman asks.

"666 Hellside lane," Chris says to the man.

Chris pulls a coin out of his pocket and hands it to the man. The ferryman begins rowing the boat and you and Chris just stand in silence.

You take in the scenery, large pits of fire with people burning in them next to large pits with meadows and people running around happily. You look into the large pit of fire, seeing the pain and agony on the people's faces as they burn, you reach out for them, wanting to help but a firm grasp on your extended wrist stops you from being able to reach them. "Don't," Chris warns.

"They're suffering," you try to plead with him, pleading for people you don't even know.

"And for a good fucking reason, they lived evil lives," Chris explains.

"B-but they were still just people," you swallow the lump in your throat.

"Bad people," Chris reminds you, "the morals of your world don't always apply down here, but I know for a fact that all the souls in that burning pit deserve to be down there, burning."

You blink at the man, "is that where I'll go? Will you send me there?"

"Never," he replies immediately, "in no reality would I make you suffer like them."

"W-would your father s-send me there?" you ask with teary eyes at the thought.

Chris gently cups your face, "don't worry about my father, I won't let him hurt you."

You nod and Chris wipes a tear that had fallen with his thumb.

The boat stopped and Chris got off first, he lifted you up and helped you down off the boat afterwards. You looked up at the large house in front of you. Ornate and beautiful on the outside. Chris opened the front door and you walked in before he closed the door behind the two of you.

The living room was magnificent, high ceilings with stained glass windows, a large couch in the middle and a fireplace across from it. "Woah," you gawk.

After a moment of silence, Chris speaks, "your room is down there," he points down the hallway with one door at the end.

"My room?" you ask.

"Yeah," he says softly, "all yours," he smiles.

"B-but what about you?" you ask.

"My room is upstairs, it's the first room on the right," he informs.

"Oh," you say.

"Yeah, just make yourself comfortable and if there's anything you need, I'll just be in my room or in my office," he explains softly.

He starts to walk away, "wait!" you call to him, he turns around and looks at you, "my cats, Cookie a-and Oreo- they're still on Earth, I-I don't want them to be lonely or g-go hungry," you tell him.

"I'll go get them for you," he instantly replies.

"They can come down here?" you ask enthusiastically.

Chris walks to you and tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear, "of course they can, I do have a dog though, but she's really friendly, her name is Berry, she's probably playing outside," he tells you, "I'll go and get your cats and bring them back here."

"O-okay, t-thank you," you thank him.

He smiles softly and leaves out the front door. You stand there for a moment, not knowing what to do with yourself, before you decide to check out your bedroom.

You open the door and look around, it looked similar to your bedroom back on Earth. You opened one of the doors in the room to see a huge walk in closet. Multiple floors tall and full of any types of clothes you could think of.

You open another door to see a whole on-suite bathroom. With a huge shower and a jacuzzi tub.

You walk back into the closet, looking for a pair of pajamas. You find a key pad with many buttons, you cautiously press the button that says 'sleepwear' and the closet starts to move around.

The many racks of clothing shuffle around for a moment before the sliding doors open, revealing all kinds of pajamas.

You opt for a blue matching silk pajama set, you slip the clothes on and decide to look around the house that was now yours. You opened one of the large doors that lead to a large grassy area that was fenced in with a metal gate. You take a seat on the back porch, close your eyes, and try to wrap your mind around the day you had.

You hear a dog bark beside you and you open your eyes to see a dog with three heads staring at you. Your first reaction is to scream, not used to the supernatural sight. But one of the dog's heads starts licking your face, making you burst into a fit of laughter.

You sit up and look at the small dog, you look at the large collar around it's neck and read the name. "Berry," you say the dog's name out loud.

The dog perks up and jumps into your lap, "hi, Berry," you coo, "aren't you gorgeous," you say as you pet her.

You sit with the three-headed dog until you hear the back door open, Chris leaning against the door frame carrying your two cats, one in each hand.

Berry rushes to Chris' side, her tail wagging a mile a minute.

You sit up and walk to Chris, gently taking your cat, Oreo, from his arms, give Oreo a kiss and gently pet him. "Thank you," you thank Chris again.

"Don't mention it," he smiles.

You step inside and Chris closes the door behind the two of you. You put Oreo down on the ground and Berry begins sniffing the black and white cat. You turn back to Chris and he hands you your Tortoiseshell cat, Cookie.

You kiss Cookie before you put her on the ground, Berry sniffing her now as well. "You really aren't like your dad," you figure, talking about Chris.

"I hope I'm not," he chuckles lowly, he brushes a strand of hair out of your face, "you should get some sleep," he suggests, "we can talk more in the morning okay?"

He walks you to your room, "wake me up if you ever need anything," he says softly.

You step into your room and Chris closes the door. You hear his footsteps as he walks away from the door.

You did try to sleep, you really did. But you found yourself tossing and turning on the large bed rather than sleeping.

You contemplate waking Chris up for a good ten minutes before deciding you would just watch something on the TV in the living room.

You sat up and walked into the living room, you sat on the large, black, leather couch and grabbed the remote, turning on the TV.

You flipped through channels until you settled on a random channel in a random language you couldn't understand.

"Y/n?" you hear Chris' voice.

You watch the man as he walks down a pair of stairs, rubbing his eyes, wearing nothing but a pair of plaid pajama pants and a pair of red slippers.

"What're you doing up?" he asks softly.

"C-couldn't sleep," you explain quietly.

"O-oh," he hums, walking back up to his bedroom.

Eventually you passed out on the couch, waking up from a nightmare. It took you a moment to fully realize where you were, but you ruled out the fact that you just had a bad dream when you looked around the ornate living room, remembering all that had happened.

A knock on the door made you snap your head up. You hesitantly walk to the door, opening it to reveal Persephone along with a group of servants. "Oh, hello honey!" she muses before stepping into the house as if it was hers.

"W-what are you doing here?" you ask in the most polite way you can.

"Well it's your wedding day!" she announces like it's obvious.

"M-my wh-what?"

"Oh dear, don't play dumb! C'mon we need to get you fitted for a dress," she hums.

She drags you by your arm to your room before practically pulling your clothes off, only leaving you in your underwear. You try to cover yourself but she is swatting your hands away as the servants begin taking your measurements with measuring tapes. "Do you like the color black?" Persephone asks as a servant shows her different fabrics and colors.

"I-I-it's okay?"

"And do you like glitter?"

"N-not really."

"Dear," she scolds, "you should be serious about this, we have the Christian Dior working on this."

"Christian Dior?"

"Yes the owner and founder of Dior-"

"I know who Christian Dior is b-but why?"

"Well your wedding should be perfect!" she exclaims.

"Mom," Chris' voice comes from the door to your room.

"You're not supposed to see each other before the ceremony!" Persephone whines.

"I understand you're excited, but go easy on y/n m'kay? She is scared," he points out and looks at you.

"Oh, c'mon it's just marriage!"

"Mom," he says more firmly, "it's marriage."

"Oh fine," Persephone huffs, "y/n what are your favorite flowers by the way? My brother is going to make us some!"

"Felix is coming?" Chris asks.

"All of Olympus is coming!" Persephone cackles.

"Olympus!" you shriek, "I'm going to pass out!"

Chris lunges forward to support you and keep you standing while his mother and her servants are whispering and talking amongst themselves. "Here, let's get you in some clothes," Chris figures.

If you were naive you would think he's being kind, but honestly you don't know if you can afford to be naive at the moment.

Chris walks to the closet and grabs a pair of clothes and hands them to you. You swiftly pull them on before Persephone is grabbing your hand and pulling you into a seat. One of her servants pulling out a makeup bag and slapping a primer on your skin. "Chris!" An unfamiliar voice calls.

You turn your head to see a blonde boy with freckles standing in the doorway calling to your soon to be husband. "Felix, hey man," Chris says, embracing the man-Felix.

"Oh hey, you must be y/n! Nice to meet you! I'm Demeter's son! Gosh it is scorching down here!" he exclaims and fans himself with his hand.

"Well it's almost like it's hell," you retort.

"Well yeah, dear Zeus, Persephone how can you love someone so much to stay down here for as long as you do!" he exclaims.

"Well you know how much I love Hades," she chuckles to her brother.

You sit still as the servants begin styling your hair and applying your makeup.

"Is Zeus coming?" Chris asks.

"No! Silly! He is far too busy! But he's sending Hyunjin on his behalf," Persephone announces.

"Persephone, the dress is done!" one of the servants says.

"Oh lovely! Y/n look at this! Isn't it stunning!" Persephone calls and shows you the large black ballgown dress.

"Y-yeah, beautiful," you shrug as you feel tears welling up in your eyes.

"It's so beautiful she's crying isn't that sweet!" Persephone proclaims.

You feel so claustrophobic in the room, as you try to bite down your tears. "Mom," Chris starts, "she is crying because she doesn't want to do this."

"Christopher!" Persephone shouts, "she will deal with it! As will you! This is destiny!"

"You don't have to like your destiny!" Chris' voice booms.

You can't help but mentally compare him to his father, they yell the same way. Chris has a better temper but they both can hate the same way.

"Ok," Felix breaks the tension, "Seph why don't you go and get ready I'll watch over them."

Your eyes go wide as you watch Persephone leave the room in a huff. "Sorry you had to hear that y/n," Felix apologizes for his sister and his nephew, "they both have quite a temper."

You turn your head back and wait until the servants finished your makeup and hair.

Chris and Felix eventually left when it was time for you to put on the wedding dress, saying they'd meet you at the venue.

You slipped on the dress in silence and one of the servants tightened the corset on the back.

The boat ride to the venue was silent, only thanking the ferryman and handing him a silver coin when he dropped you off.

"Hi my dear," an old woman greets you at the gate of the garden you were dropped off at, "my name is Clotho, I'm one of the Fates, my sisters are busy today but they give you and Chris their blessing!"

"Please tell Lachesis to cut my time short, I don't want to do this," you plead to the old woman.

"Dear," she coughs, "you'll be immortal once you marry him, it's not like she can do anything."

"I would rather die," you comment.

"I shouldn't tell you your fate, but you do fall in love with him, may as well let it happen," she whispers to you.

Your eyes widen in shock and she holds your hand walking you down the aisle in the garden.

A piano playing a tune in the background as you walk down the aisle with the woman.

Chris is waiting at the end of the aisle and you see Hades standing at the center.

You cry as you stand up there and Hades pronounces you married. Not wanting this to be your fate.

"You may kiss the bride," Hades instructs Chris.

Chris rolls his eyes before gently cupping your face and bringing you in for a kiss that lasts only a second.

You sob on the boat ride back to your house, mascara running down your face. You run to your bedroom and cry into the pillows. Crying until you feel like throwing up.

You had been living in the same house as Chris for a few days, and you finally were able to sleep in your bed at night.

A knock on your door is what woke you up, you sat up and rubbed your eyes while the door creaked open, "y/n," Chris calls out to you.

"Mhm," you grunt sleepily.

"Hey, I got you a present," he explains.

You rise up out of bed and let Chris lead you to where the present is. He has you sit down on the couch and close your eyes and you feel a weight being put on your extended hands. "Okay, you can open your eyes now," Chris says.

You slowly open your eyes and look at the box in your hands, you look up at him before you open the pretty black box. You look at the ticket stubs for a moment, and read the text. Concert tickets, for your favorite band.

"D'you like them? I don't want this marriage as much as you, but I figured a wedding gift wouldn't hurt that much?" Chris asks.

"Like them? Chris-" the words are caught in your throat, "I love them," you smile.

"I-I got you two, that way you can go with one of your friends on earth," he grins.

"I- thank you," you thank him, you throw your arms around him in a warm embrace.

"Of course, y/n, anything to make you feel a bit better," he says dutifully.

Chris showed you over and over again that he would give you anything and everything your heart would desire.

From making a whole art studio in your shared house because you once mentioned that you liked painting during a dinner conversation.

To giving you a phone so you could talk to your friends who were on Earth.

There was no doubt, he cared for you. And you couldn't help but care for him as well.

"Guess who," you peek your head into Chris' office.

He was sitting at his desk with papers laid out over the surface.

"Hey, sweet girl," he hums when he sees you.

He motions you over and you obey, he taps his thigh for you to sit on, and you do. His arm rests on your waist, and you watch as he works. "What'cha doin?" you ask him.

"Finishing up some paperwork for the company," he explains, "did you need anything, honey?" he asks.

You shake your head, "no, jus' wanted to be close to you," you confess.

Chris cocks a brow, "yeah?" he coos gently.

You nod, "yeah, I like being around you."

A smile breaks out onto his face and he turns his full attention to you. "I like being around you too," he confesses.

Later that night you find yourself in your bed, staring up at the ceiling.

You felt hot all over as you thought about Chris, how caring he was, how handsome he was, how dominant he was.

You hadn't felt that way before, what were you supposed to do? That was the first night you felt the intense wanting for Chris. And it certainly wasn't your last.

Every night for the next week you'd think of Chris, you would feel tingly all over, to the point where it drove you crazy. You didn't know what to do with this feeling that was coming from your cunt.

You knock on the door to Chris' bedroom, you hear footsteps before Chris opens up the door, "honey, hey what's going on?" he asks when he sees the tears in your eyes, concern laced in his voice.

"I feel weird," you sniffle.

"Oh, sweet girl," he coos, he gently pulls you into his room and pulls you onto his chest, "tell me what's going on?" he requests.

"I just keep feeling weird, a-and I d-dunno what t'do," you confess.

"Feel weird where?" he inquires.

Your face goes red and you whisper to him, "my- y'know."

He looks at you for a moment before breaking out into a fit of laughter, you swat at him, "I'm being serious!" you whine.

"You haven't like-" he pauses, "masturbated before?"

You shake your head no, and watch as his face breaks out into a look of realization. You tuck your head into his chest as blush creeps onto your face. "Hey, shh, it's okay honey, don't be embarrassed," Chan reassures.

He tilts your chin up so you're looking at him, "whatever you want, I'll give it to you," he hums, his thumb gently caressing your chin.

"Daddy," the words leave your mouth before you can stop yourself.

Chris groans before pulling you in for a gentle kiss, he quickly pulls away before looking in your eyes again. He only looks at you momentarily before pulling you back in for another, more heated, kiss.

That night Chris watched as you touched yourself, gently talking you through the new feelings and watching as you writhed around on his bed from the pleasure.

You heard the front door open and sprung up from your place on the couch to see Chris walk inside. He had just gotten back from work. He looked exhausted from the day's activities. "Chri-" you begin but he cuts you off by crossing the space between the two of you and slamming his lips onto yours.

"Daddy-" you mumble against his lips.

"Hmm?" Chris hums.

"Wanna help you relax," you mutter.

"Just let me kiss you honey," he insists, "let me give you special kisses."

"Special kisses?"

"Yeah," he hums, he pulls your pants down without warning.

Staring at your cunt, he gently kisses your mound over your panties. "I'm the only one who can kiss you here, you understand?" he growls.

"Yes," you whine.

Chris pulls your panties to the side before placing a tender kiss on your clit.

You moan and your fingers run through his hair, "that's a good girl," Chris hums.

You feel two of his fingers press into your entrance and you squirm around due to the unfamiliar sensation. "Daddy," you whine.

Chris' plump lips keep sucking on your clit while one of his fingers pistons in and out of your cunt. One finger turns into two, two into three, until you're gushing all over his face without a chance to warn him.

"That's it," he coos, "such a sweet little pussy," he groans, fingering you through your orgasm.

He places a kiss above your mound before slapping your pussy. You jolt at the contact and watch as Chris sits up and pulls his pants down.

"Here you go honey, gonna give you a treat for being a good little girl for me," he muses.

He strokes his fat cock in front of you before lining it up at your soaking entrance. "Daddy-" you whine.

"Daddy's here, don't worry babydoll," he hums as he pushes into you.

You squirm around as you feel more and more of his cock enter you. "That's it, take it like the slut that you are," Chris spits.

The only thing leaving your mouth at this point is broken cries of Chris' title. Chris sets a menacingly fast pace, pounding into you with your legs thrown over his shoulders.

You feel as his hands run down your stomach, stopping on your lower tummy, "I can fucking feel myself inside you," Chris comments.

You move your hand down and feel the area where his cock is bulging in and out of you. "Oh my god!" you scream as you cum around him.

"That's it, atta girl," he praises, "let me fill you up, let daddy pump a baby into his sweet little girl."

"Yes," you whine, "f-fuck a baby into me w-wan' you t'fill me up please!" you beg.

Chris' movements become sporadic and you start to feel his hot cum seeping into you. He keeps fucking into you as he cums, making sure you take each last drop of his seed.

Honestly, hell wasn't even hotter than Christopher Bahng.

[pathologicalreid]

buried alive | S.R.

in which the BAU races against the clock to rescue you from a killer team

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: angsty

content warnings: kidnapping, case stuff (murder yk), suffocation, being buried alive, hospitals, blood, nausea, CPR, funerals, use of pet names, guns, and drugs. i think that's all.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: okay, so i've been reading so much spencer fanfic and i started writing it and yesterday i realized i have 20 fics written and they're doing no one any good just sitting on my computer. i decided to finally try posting one. i wrote fanfic in high school (so like seven years ago) but this is my first time writing for a TV show. i've also never really posted on tumblr so please bear with me while i try to figure out formatting. tysm for checking out my post.

part two part three

You walked into the conference room and dropped the file on the table, allowing it to land on the wood with a satisfying splat. “The unsub’s burying them alive,” you said, letting the rest of the team know the conclusion you had come to with the medical examiner. “The M.E. found metal shavings and satin threads under the nails of our last victim. The most common materials to make up a casket.”

“There’s no way someone could bury someone alive in a casket alone, we’ve got to be dealing with a team, at least three people,” Emily concluded, standing in front of the evidence board.

It was the team’s third day on a case in Nebraska, four women had been discovered dead. Asphyxiation by hypoxia. Carbon dioxide poisoning.

“Approximately 420 people in the United States die from accidental carbon dioxide poisoning every year,” Spencer said, grabbing the file off of the table and flipping through it, taking a few seconds to read through it.

Rossi looked over Reid’s shoulder to look at the file, “but there’s nothing accidental about these deaths. Who would have access to these caskets?”

You shook your head, placing a hand on the back of Spencer’s chair, “A funeral director seems most likely.” You looked around at the Omaha field office, different agents running about in an attempt to solve these very murders. “They’d have the most access, write it off as displays. It could be hard to match the materials since they’re so common.”

Hotch leaned over the table and pressed the conference phone, “What can I do you for?” Garcia’s bright voice rang through the speaker.

“Garcia, I need you to look into funeral homes within the comfort zone. Look for a director who’s ordered more caskets than they’ve had funerals. Find anything, nothing is too small.” He told her.

“Absolutely, I’ll hit you back when I’ve got something,” she said, hanging up the phone.

There ended up being four funeral homes in the unsub’s comfort zone, so the team split up. You went with two locals to a family-owned business, Garcia had sent you all of the files you’d need on the location. “It looks like the Varn family has been in the funeral business since the seventeenth century,” you read aloud to the two agents you were in the car with.

“Does it mean they’re more or less likely to be the killers if they’ve been in business for so long?” One of the agents asked you, a younger man named Harrison.

You pursed your lips as you continued to look over the files, “I’m not seeing any glaringly obvious stressors before the murders started, but over the years I’ve learned that’s no reason to write someone off. Psychopaths can be tipped off by the slightest thing. Things none of us would bat an eye at.”

Harrison nodded in the passenger seat, looking over to his partner Jimmy, “You and your guy sure do make an interesting pair.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment, so thank you.” You and Spencer never explicitly stated to the field office that you were dating, but you walked into the precinct this morning holding hands. The agents must have drawn their own conclusions.

The younger officer cleared his throat, “It is a compliment, ma’am. The two of you are very impressive, your whole team is.”

You smiled, “Thank you, Harrison.”

The funeral home was run by a mother and her two sons, you held up your credentials for the mother when you knocked on the door. “Are you Sheila Varn?” You asked her, raising your eyebrows.

“Yes, what’s this about?” She inquired. She didn’t really look the part of a serial killer, a middle-aged woman who was running her family business.

Pocketing your credentials, you spoke, “We’re investigating the recent murders in the area and we were wondering if you had samples of the materials your caskets are made out of. Might we be able to come in?” You asked, adding a charming smile for effect.

Something flashed across her face before she returned your smile, opening the door and welcoming the three of you inside. “Hold on, let me get my boys up here. They’re so much more versed in the goings on of the town than I am,” she said, opening the door and calling for her sons. Felix and Joss came up the stairs from the basement, now they definitely had the physique to load dead women into caskets and bury them alive.

“Why don’t you two men come with me? I’ll get you those samples,” Sheila said, motioning for the agents you were with to follow her. To your horror, they followed her around the corner. “Felix, Joss, show this young lady what you know,” she instructed.

You took a deep breath before you looked up at the two men.

They were tall, maybe Spencer’s height, but they were built like wrestlers. There was no way you could physically subdue them on your own.

You passed out before you even had the chance to pull your gun.

Hotch was in full Unit Chief mode, Spencer watched from the corner of the room as he separated people into groups and gave them specific instructions. JJ and Morgan walked into the precinct, “What’s going on?” JJ asked looking around the room.

“The Varn Family is the team; two agents were found drugged on the side of the road and when we went to the funeral home Y/N was missing. Her badge, gun, and phone were all there, covered in blood,” Spencer said morosely, watching as Hotch finished giving orders and called the rest of the team over.

Your picture was up on the evidence board with the word “missing” written in bold letters beneath it. All of your belongings had been put into evidence for the time being. “Reid?” Hotch said his name, causing his head to snap up. “Are you okay to keep working?”

Spencer nodded affirmatively, “Yes.”

“Good, I need you to estimate how much time we have, I want a clock on these screens,” he ordered.

Morgan turned to Reid, “What do you think she has, kid?”

“The tidal volume for the average adult is point five at rest. That ends up being about six liters per minute. The average casket is approximately 886 liters in total volume and the average volume of the human body is 66 liters, leaving 820 liters to be filled with air for her to breathe. If she’s been gone for half an hour already, I’d estimate she has less than five hours of breathable air left.” Spencer explained, doing all of the math in his head while Emily put a timer on the screen next to the evidence board.

After a moment, Hotch continued, “Rossi, JJ, go back to the funeral home. Tear it apart, there has to be something there we haven’t found yet. The rest of us will split the list of cemeteries in the comfort zone and search them.”

“That’s a lot of ground to cover, we don’t have anything else to go on?” Morgan asked, looking at the list of burial sites he had been handed.

Hotch looked at Spencer, but Spencer stayed silent. “That’s all we have right now,” Hotch responded, “hopefully we’ll come across leads as we go.”

It smelled like a garden around you. The memory reminded you of spring with your mother, tending to the vegetable garden.

The only difference was that instead of the sun beaming down on you, it was pitch black. The space surrounding you was so dark that you weren’t totally sure your eyes were open.

Your head was throbbing just above your right temple, and you observed your surroundings. Slowly, you lifted your arm until it hit a ceiling.

Not a ceiling. A lid. You were in a casket. You pressed one hand to your chest and tried to slow your breathing. Chances were that the casket was already buried beneath the surface of the earth, trying to open it could be catastrophic. You patted the pockets of your jeans, only to find your phone missing, so the team wouldn’t be able to trace the location.

Even if you had it, there likely wouldn’t be service six feet under.

Your team would find you. They had to find you.

They found Spencer, they found Emily, and they would find you.

Spencer shifted in the passenger seat of the SUV, “You know, carbon dioxide poisoning is a rather peaceful way to die.”

“Reid,” Morgan said, turning the vehicle onto the main road, they had just finished scouring over another cemetery with still no sign of you.

He sighed and stared at his hands, “No, it’s good. We see so many people killed in so many different ways that it’s good that she won’t be in pain when she runs out of air.” He tried to convince himself.

Morgan cleared his throat, “We aren’t out of time yet, kid. We can still find her. Y/N’s smart, I’m sure she found a way to make more air or something.”

But they were running out of time, less than an hour remained on the timer set on all of their phones.

They pulled into the next cemetery, “There’s some fresh dirt over there, what are the names on the graves of people who were actually recently buried?”

Spencer starts to recite the names, and the two of them start to comb through the cemetery.

You had done enough research on this case to understand what was going on. The light-headed feeling had started not long ago, but now you felt like you were spinning, despite the knowledge that you were stuck in place.

It was a high. Not unlike the good kids high. Except instead of trying to chase a feeling, you were dying.

The timer went off when they were still scouring graves, shovels in hand. Derek stopped in his tracks, but Spencer kept going.

“Wait,” Spencer called out, reading the name on the card next to the fresh grave he was standing at, he moved to start digging. “Essie Dunbar was a thirty-year-old woman who was mistakenly buried alive in 1915,” he said, digging. “This has to be it.”

Derek called Hotch, putting the call on speakerphone so he could help Spencer dig. “Hotch, we got her, but she’s buried.”

“We’re on our way, Omaha police have one of the brothers in custody,” Hotch told Emily to have an ambulance dispatched.

What Reid knew that Derek didn’t was that it could take four hours to dig a grave by hand. The soil had been overturned, so maybe call it three. Your odds were still negligible. He didn’t stop, he didn’t stop when a caretaker came running at them, and he didn’t stop when Derek told him to get his digging equipment out here now.

Derek flashed his FBI badge to get what they needed. He had to physically pull Spencer back from the grave so the backhoe could dig, only going until there was less than a foot between them and the casket.

Spencer crudely attached a chain to the casket and the caretaker's vehicle. Carefully, the caretaker dragged the white container out of the earth and up a slant they had dug. It was locked shut, “Reid, move,” Derek ordered.

He leaned back and Derek fired at the lock, taking it off and opening the casket. Spencer gasped, there was blood on the side of your head, dried and raked through your hair. He was vaguely aware of Hotch and Emily arriving as they pulled you out of your satin prison. You had no pulse, but you were still warm. Immediately, Spencer started CPR.

“Reid let me do it,” Derek insisted.

What he was trying to say is that he shouldn’t have to be the one to try to save your life.

Morgan repeated himself and Spencer pulled away, allowing the other agent to immediately take over. There was a siren in the background, an ambulance. More people showed up, Spencer heard their voices, but he just kept watching you. CPR was effective if it was done shortly after your heart stopped, and even then, permanent brain damage was likely.

It had been eight minutes since they pulled you out of the ground. Clinically, you were dead for eight minutes before you gasped.

Spencer smoothed your hair back, away from your face, while you desperately tried to catch your breath. You weren’t moving, and Spencer started running through symptoms of hypoxia. His biggest fear was brain damage, that they had done more harm to you in bringing you back than they would have had you died.

The EMTs came running over to where everyone had gathered, dispersing the crowd, and placing an oxygen mask over your face. As they were loading you on the stretcher, you started trying to talk, reaching your arm out to your side. “Wait, what’s she saying?” JJ asked.

“Sometimes it’s hard to talk after CPR,” the male EMT said as they moved you closer to the ambulance. He listened to what you were saying, “It’s not coherent.”

Spencer didn’t move, all of the adrenaline that had been coursing through his body all day was leaving.

Aphasia. They were saying the lack of oxygen to your brain was causing aphasia. “No,” Emily said, realization dawning on her features as she strained to listen to you. You were whispering, rasping the same word over and over again. “She’s saying ‘Spence.’”

He stood quickly and looked at you, sure enough, you were reaching out your hand and whispering, “Spence, Spence.” Your voice no more than a whisper.

Grabbing your hand, Spencer squeezed it, “I’m here,” he answered. “It’s okay, it’s over,” he told you, moving your hair out of your face. Spencer secured your oxygen mask over your face as you tried to take it off, “You have to keep this on, angel.”

To his relief, you squeezed his hand back.

You had been instructed to get some rest, but you couldn’t close your eyes. You asked Spencer to go back to the hotel and change his clothes because he smelled like dirt, and it made you nauseous. Your head had been bandaged, you’d been run through an MRI, and you did an EEG, so far, the only brain damage that had been incurred seemed temporary.

According to the doctors, the nausea and fatigue should wear off, but they hadn’t been able to fully assess if any permanent damage was done. At this point, the worst of your injuries had been caused by being given CPR, resulting in cracked ribs.

Despite your headache, you kept most of the lights on in your hospital room, not quite ready to be left in the darkness again. “Hey,” a voice called from your doorway, Spencer stood, waiting to be invited in. He was wearing different clothes, a button-up with a green cardigan thrown over it, and clean pants. “How are you feeling?”

A nasal cannula slightly restricted your movement, but you were sat up in the hospital bed, “Better than I was, but not perfect.”

He shook his head, walking in and taking a seat next to you, “No one expects you to be perfect right now.” Gently, he reached out and took your hand, skimming the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “They found the mother and the other son, and all three of them are going to go away for a long time,” he told you, speaking in the kind of hushed, reverent tones that are reserved for hospitals.

You sighed and tilted your head back, “Good,” you maundered. “That’s uh, good,” your voice was barely audible.

“So why do you look so worried?” He asked, leaning in closer to you.

In an attempt to dismiss his concern, you joked, “I think I owe Morgan some sort of life debt now.”

Spencer offered you a soft smile, “The two of you tend to trade those off, I’m sure you’ll find some way to make it up to him.” He inclined his head towards you as if to silently say, So what is it really?

You swallowed thickly, “I’m scared to close my eyes, Spence.”

His shoulders dropped, “oh, Angel,” he breathed. “Is there anything I can do for you?” He asked, looping a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “Wait, what are you doing?” He asked, watching you as you lifted yourself, so you were on one side of the bed.

Shyly, you patted the new empty half of the bed, inviting him to sit next to you.

He had no choice but to comply, he had the hardest time saying no to you. Leaning the bed back slightly, Spencer kicked off his shoes before he laid down next to you, wrapping an arm around you as you set your cheek on his shoulder.

Your body relaxed into his and you sighed, “Spence?” You murmured.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, “Yes, angel?” He whispered back to you.

“Thanks for coming to save me,” you mumbled, slowly relaxing enough to fall asleep.

Spencer exhaled, “I’m always going to come to save you.”

part two

[tenisperfection]

Worship, a Buck/Tommy drabble. A few months post S7.

It's during the seventh time Tommy kisses his left temple that it clicks for Buck.

Buck from five years ago would've needed to check in with his partner immediately. Buck would've wanted to know, would've wanted to beg and then given in to want, pleading for them to say it in all but those exact words, yes, this is where I kiss you, this is the spot I claim. I have favorite spots now. I leave traces of me on you and then I return home to them and to you.

When Buck clocks Tommy's spot, he says nothing. He's pretty sure this is a recurrence though, and for the next few days, Buck counts one, two, five, eleven more times that Tommy kisses him there, each one lingering longer but just as affectionate as the previous one.

Buck says nothing but begins to wait for them with the desperation of a man spotting water after days without.

"Did you finish that book, baby? Gemma wanted to borrow it if you're done," Tommy says after dinner one night, mussing up Buck's hair as he passes by to grab their empty plates. Buck's chest tingles when Tommy doesn't move away.

"Okay," he says after three seconds of distraction, and only realizes when Tommy moves towards the sink that he neither answered Tommy's question nor did he get kissed.

Tommy, because he's Tommy, doesn't miss a beat.

"You okay, baby? You seem a little distracted." Buck hears the faucet turn on, the clink of porcelain as Tommy deftly washes them.

"Um, yeah, just thinking about the book. I'm getting to the good part," Buck babbles, and though he'd been reading it less than three hours ago while on shift, he can't for the life of him remember what the good part was.

Tommy, because he knows when Buck is looking for an out, doesn't ask. Buck watches the muscles in his back as he bends over the sink, the way his thin blue t-shirt billows around his waist. It's not a shirt that Tommy wears with company, and Buck knows when he turns around, he'd be able to spot a tiny hole at the collar from the time that Tommy had bit into it, too invested in winning a game of Mario Kart against Eddie.

That night, after Tommy slips out of him and they jump into and out of the shower, Tommy kisses his temple twice as they wrap up in the biggest towels Buck owns. It's somewhere around this kiss that Buck loses count.

~~~

It's months later when Buck finally asks, and Tommy smiles so wide that Buck has no choice but to kiss him.

"You're starting to get a few gray hairs at your temple," Tommy says, expression abashed, like he thinks Buck would revolt. Five years ago, Buck would've gone down a tailspin of horror at this revelation, reaching for the internet and the bottle of hair dye within seconds.

Now, Buck wiggles his eyebrows. "Me going gray does it for you, old man?"

Tommy swats his ass even as he pulls Buck in with the other arm, surrounding him with his body. "Maybe. But being here to witness it definitely does. Per my last count, you now have three."

"You're lucky you didn't tell Buck 1.0 this," Buck kisses him because he's irresistible like this, eyes twinkling with so much fondness for Buck, watching and kissing him as they watch the night slip into day, week after week, month after month.

"Eddie says you've gone through more versions than a Windows computer," Tommy grins, then tilts his head at Buck. "You think we'd have hit it off if we met back then?"

"I don't know," Buck teases, drawing back, "you won't have my grays to kiss then, so who knows, maybe we'd have fizzled out."

"So you're saying our entire relationship hinges on your grays?" Tommy quips back.

"No, you said that," because he can be a brat with Tommy. Buck's starting to think he can be anything with Tommy.

Tommy's eyes grow serious in that way where he switches between emotions effortlessly. "I'd have found something else, Evan. Maybe the freckle on your nose,"—Tommy kisses the arch of his nose—"or the birthmark behind your ear,"—"Tommy kisses behind his right earlobe—"or this one right here." When Tommy kisses the birthmark over his left eye, Buck shivers. Tommy lets Buck kiss him and pour everything he's feeling into Tommy even if he can't quite find the words to say it, like how Tommy makes him feel iridescent, though he feels the most settled he can remember being. Like how his chest fills up with bubbly joy every time he open the cabinet above his sink and spots Tommy's favorite yellow bowl on the shelf, the one he claims is perfect for cereal or pasta or rice or anything, really, even though it is clearly a soup bowl.

"You realize you just signed up for kissing every single gray hair on my head from now on," Buck says when they're sated and sleepy, limbs tangled up on top of sheets that Tommy will change tomorrow because Buck hates doing the bed.

A few years ago, Buck would've wanted to beg, say you'll stay. say this means you'll stay. say you'll be here when I have more gray on my head. say you'll be here when I'm fully gray, still kissing me, still wanting me, still loving me.

Today, Buck doesn't beg. Tommy's mouth finds its way to his spot, and Buck knows that Tommy would still say it if he asks.

[literaila]

cuddle time

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: satoru's mood is disrupted by some quality family time

a/n: a little fluff for you all because i've been trolling too much

last part | next part

*

year four.

you're working on a report from a mission last week when the two of them appear, simply out of thin air. 

it's early sunday morning, light shining through the windows, the world beckoning you outside--even though you know you need to be in here, working. honestly, you shouldn't have put it off for this long. 

but it's so easy in this house. with satoru lounging around, and both of the children to entertain you all of the time. honestly, if you never checked your phone again, you might forget that the rest of your world existed completely. 

it's nice. easy. 

but not this morning. this morning, just walking into the office felt like surging through a tub full of mud, disgusting and slow. 

and you feel that way now when the kids show up. 

they both peek their heads into the office, the door slightly cracked, and you don't dare look at the two of them--knowing that they'll distract you (and that you would very much like to be distracted, at the moment). 

tsumiki creeps into the room, and you can feel her smile at you from ten feet away. her general aura of benevolence and good. she radiates happiness, your secret drug. megumi follows, not as bright but still pleasant enough, accidentally bumping into the desk, but you still don't look at either of them. 

you can see them in your peripheral, though. you can't imagine what they need at the moment. 

but neither of them says a thing, they simply stare at you, standing on opposite sides of the desk, their eyes darting from the computer screen to you with an obvious frequency. 

you don't know what they want, but you've known the two of them long enough to know that it's something. 

you still don't look at them, but you can't help the smile on your face. 

“yes, children?" you ask, teasing, after a minute of this has ensued. when you just can't hold it in anymore. "am i bothering you?”  

tsumiki leans her head on your shoulder, her face amazingly warm, frowning. “gojo won’t get out of bed.” 

megumi is just standing there, still staring at you, with his arms crossed. clearly, this is a dire statement, and they all need your immediate attention. clearly, your presence is impertinent.

you check the clock. it’s only ten in the morning, and god knows with the children, that is not late. they both wake up with the sun, ready to start the day before you get the chance to blink.

you were up two hours ago, helping megumi get breakfast together, making sure that they both slept well and that no one broke into the house in the middle of the night and stole them. breakfast was a bleary-eyed, silent sort of thing. the three of you basking in each other's company, and not attention.

but you don't really mind waking up that early. because, unlike satoru, your fragile mind doesn't pause for a good night's rest. these days, you'll get a few hours at a time, at the best. a couple of minutes to yourself, at the worst. 

caffeine is a wonderful thing.

so you don't blame the man for hiding in his room all morning. besides, he is the worst when he misses out on his precious beauty sleep.

“we all agreed,” you say, knowingly, resuming your typing. “satoru can sleep in as long as he’d like on sundays.” 

“he’s not sleeping.” 

megumi nods. “yeah, he’s just moaning in bed.” 

you quirk a brow. “is he sick?” 

“no, just a baby,” megumi answers. he says this with such an obvious attitude that you almost snort. where he got the sass, you're not sure. 

(you're sure. it's your fault.) 

knowing he has no good information for you, you turn around to tsumiki. “what’d he say?” 

“that he wasn’t getting out of bed. ever.” 

you roll your eyes, familiar with this act. “just give him a couple of hours. he’s probably pms-ing.”

they both give you confused looks. you make a mental note to pick up parenting books at the library.

“he’s fine, guys," you say, instead of explaining. "just dramatic.” 

tsumiki shakes her head. “something’s wrong with him.” 

“could’ve told you that,” megumi mutters, under his breath, and you attempt not to laugh. and fail. 

you grin at him, nudging tsumiki's cheek, a bit fond of her concern. her sincerity. “just let him sleep.” 

tsumiki leans on your arm, still pouting—you should’ve kicked satoru out three years ago. he’s rubbing off on her. “but he's sad." 

"sad?" 

"i think he's crying." 

megumi snorts. 

you blink at her. "are you serious?" 

she nods, sullenly. 

you sigh, looking back to the computer--where work and every terrible thing in the world (besides satoru) awaits you. you could sit here for the next four hours, doing stuff you should've done weeks ago, or you could deal with an emotional toddler. 

there's really no winning here. 

you sigh again and look back to tsumiki. her face is enough to break your composure completely. "fine," you say, "let's go see what's wrong with him." 

tsumiki smiles at you, grateful, and megumi rolls his eyes but begins to trail out of the office. you shut your laptop, knowing that you won't be back for a while. 

(or the rest of the day, if you have it your way). 

the two of them follow you to satoru's room, where you don't knock--because the door is already partially open, and because you don't care. 

the blinds are still shut, the entire room a stomping ground for candy wrappers and files that satoru definitely shouldn't leave lying around. 

but this is nothing new, so you ignore it. 

"hey, kid," you say, stepping over to the bed, leaning down to look at him. 

or, rather, an expanse of grey sheets. all you can see is a lump of covers, and a pillow thrown on the floor. satoru sleeps like someone's trying to hold him down, failing all the while.

you nudge him with a hand, sighing again. you got lucky with tsumiki and megumi, who are notoriously easy to wake up in the morning, unlike someone else in the house...

there's no response. 

fortunately, you can see a puff of breath from beneath his blanket, so at least he's not dead. 

there's a tuff of white hair peeking out from the sheets, and you pull it, albeit gently. because you actually do really love his hair. 

(it's irritatingly soft). 

"i already know you're awake," you tell him, dryly. "are you crying? tsumiki said you were crying." 

the covers are quick to move, two large hands pulling them down with surprising efficiency, and a red-eyed--though not teary--satoru glares at you. "i'm not crying." 

"oh, great, then i don't have to comfort you. i don't think i have it in me today." 

he pouts, naturally, and throws the covers back over his face. at least this is no different. 

you turn around, looking at both of the children helplessly. see, you want to say to them, he's fine. but tsumiki waves you forward and megumi's got a little quirk in his lip, which is answer enough.

you nudge satoru again. 

"c'mon, you're scaring the kids." 

"they weren't scared when they poked me awake and tried to steal my socks." 

you turn back with raised eyebrows. tsumiki looks away guilty, and megumi's smile widens. but your eyes gleam, because satoru deserves at least that. and because all of them are terribly amusing. 

you roll your eyes when you turn around and there's a single blue eye looking into yours. "well, you're scaring them now. and obviously," you answer. "socks are criminal in bed." 

satoru tries to pinch you from under the covers, and you smack his hand away. "leave me to die," he says. 

"they're quivering, satoru," you say, trying not to laugh. "do you want them to cry? because they will. it's probably the bedhead. or maybe the morning breath. seriously, do you make out with your pillows when you sleep?" 

the covers move once again, and satoru's glare is vicious. "i do not have bedhead. or morning breath." 

"yeah, yeah, you're perfect." you pull the covers back down, even when he tries to initiate a brutal tug-of-war match, which you win, obviously. "grandpa, come on, it's almost ten-thirty." 

"i thought we made a rule that none of you can wake me up in the morning." 

"the rule was that we let you sleep in on sundays. and you're already awake. the kids want breakfast." 

"i know they already ate," satoru's eyes are blinding, "tsumiki told me." 

"well, i want to eat. get up." 

"go cook." 

"get up." 

"can't you see that i need to rest?" he gestures to his face, which looks typical and annoyed. "don't i look sick?" 

you pinch his arm. "i recall someone saying that they were impenetrable, and trivial illnesses wouldn't affect them." 

"i was wrong." 

"as usual," you give him a sweet smile. 

tsumiki and megumi have both crept up on the two of you, watching as you poke his cheek, trying to get a rise out of him. 

it's really not your fault that he looks cute with his hair smushed against his face, slightly sweaty. 

you always have preferred a disheveled satoru. when he's forgotten to put all of the pieces together. 

actually, grumpy, just-awake satoru might be your favorite. your teenage self certainly had a fondness for him. 

though you choose to believe that your tastes in men have since improved (they haven't, nor have they changed). 

"i just wanna sleep," he whines. "please?" 

"no. get up, because i don't want to hear your moaning while i'm trying to work." 

"you can't hear it from the office," satoru hisses, "and it's sunday. go take a nap." 

"i'll be sure to do that, right after i shove a toothbrush in your mouth." 

"go away," he moans, childishly, and turns on his side. "i feel like someone cut me in half. am i bleeding through the sheets? i don't think my organs are intact." 

you make a face. "that's disgusting. please don't talk about your organs in public. i thought this was a safe space." 

satoru huffs, but doesn't say anything back. 

"aww," you coo, while tsumiki climbs up the other side of the bed, putting her face right next to his. megumi lingers at your side. "is our baby sick?" 

"yes." 

"what does a sick baby need, guys? i don't remember." 

"a lobotomy," megumi whispers. 

you turn to him, eyes wide. "who taught you--actually. i already know," you look pointedly back to satoru, who's frowning. 

"i shared those thoughts with you in confidence," satoru hisses to megumi, and covers his face with a pillow this time. 

"cuddles, right? that's what you do when we're sick." 

you smile at tsumiki. "what a wonderful idea, miki. cuddles are exactly what baby needs." 

and so, with the grace of a thousand kangaroos, you jump on satoru, your body molding to his as you come face to face with the man, legs over his side, arm wrapping around his neck. 

satoru is very close, close enough that you almost can't tell that he's glaring at you. 

he's pretty like this, with gleaming skin and dull eyes. 

"was that supposed to hurt? because it didn't." 

it doesn't escape your notice that you can finger his cheekbones while he says this, no space between the two of you, and neither does the slight twitch of his lips. oh, yeah, you know satoru like this. with his attitudes and his lies. 

and you know, really, that this is exactly what he wants. attention, as per usual.  

"oh, good." you tug at his hair a bit with your other hand. "we've still got room. come on, children, we have to help our baby." 

tsumiki giggles, and she joins you, her face on your back as she lays on top of the two of you, barely a leaf in the pile. you can feel her smile against your muscles and you sigh out. "i think it's working." 

you tilt your head to look at megumi, who's staring at the three of you with a look of distaste on his face. "c'mon, megs. we need you." 

he gives you a 'really?' look, to which you respond with a nose scrunch, but eventually, he sighs. and then he promptly sits on satoru's feet, setting a hand on your legs so you know that he's there. 

"how are you feeling now, baby?" 

"smushed." 

"good. exactly how we like you." you nuzzle into his neck, breathing him in. he actually smells quite nice--and not that you'll admit it, but he doesn't have morning breath, the bastard. 

"are you sad?" tsumiki asks, softly, still concerned, but brighter now. she likes this almost as much as satoru. 

"yes," he huffs, again. 

but you all know he's lying, and when you dig your finger into his side, tickling him, the kids are quick to follow. 

work will have to wait. this is much more important. 

*

next part | series masterlist

[slvtforfiction]

Could you pls write a Johnnie guilbert x f! Reader where reader is a famous song writer and she’s up late at night like around 2:00-3:00 am working on a new song and Johnnie is sick and tired of her staying up all night and not taking care of herself so one night he gets up and hauls her ass to bed and when reader try’s to protest he tells her to stfu and plops right on top of her so she can’t go nowhere.

☆ Ahhhhh yes omg thank you anon x

☆ Sorry it’s short ☹️

☆ Johnnie Guilbert X Reader

☆ Fluff

☆ If you are going to request: please check at the pinned post if requests are open,otherwise I will delete your requests which I have already been doing

☆ Creds to @cafekitsune for dividers :)

Masterlist | Pinned Post

“Pumpkin,come to bed.” Johnnie whispered as I shook my head, “I can’t,I have to finish these lyrics.” I whispered as I barely looked away from my computer screen.

“When will you come to bed? It’s already midnight.” He told me and I nodded my head, “I know,I’ll be in bed by one,I promise,but I really have to finish this.” I told him with a sigh.

“If you’re not in bed by one,I’m turning off your pc.” He told me jokingly and I giggled, “Sure.” I said lightheartedly with a smile.

I continued to write as Johnnie walked off to bed,I had to finish these lyrics because the deadline was in three days,I was already behind and if I didn’t get this posted to them I would be worse off.

The amount of emails I was getting about the deadline was finally getting to me,the pressure put on me was keeping me up at night.

Ironically enough it was a song about the love between two people.I’ve always loved Johnnie,since the moment I saw him,so the second I got the chance at a love song I took it.

I hummed a tune to myself,listening to the beat of a song and editing the lyrics to fit the best I could. I knew I would end up scrapping and editing a few lines but I didn’t mind,as long as I got a base for my writing.

“You’re my my my lover~” I sung softly to myself as I checked if the lyrics matched the beat.

It was the most ironic situation I’ve been placed in,Johnnie was always looking out for me,taking mental health days off with me and always making sure I got enough sleep,he was the perfect example for a boyfriend.

I hummed softly to myself as I mind mapped some feelings for the song,the best I got up to was :

•love

•kindness

•looking out for people

•Caring

This was before I realised I was writing a song about Johnnie essentially. I was listing everything Johnnie had done for me,past and present. Johnnie was the perfect model for any love song.

I sit there tapping my pen against my paper,slowly running out of ideas before I edit a few more words.

“This is our place.” I hum to myself and quickly edit the line before I forget to,I smile as I realise i have my own house with the person I love. The realisation pulling a smile into my face.

“Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?” I whisper as I read out the lyrics,humming the tune to myself. This had become a love song about Johnnie and no one would know,I laugh to myself at the actualisation.

And before I knew it the click of the clock on my laptop changed the time to 1am, “Hey sweetheart,I need you to come to bed please,this isn’t good for you.” Johnnie whispered standing in the doorframe.

“Five more minutes,” I say as I look up at him, “Please!” I whisper to him as I see the disapproval sat on his face. “Okay,but after that im gonna have to drag you to bed.” He laughs but I know he would probably do that.

I mean ; not literally but Johnnie would drag me kicking and screaming if that’s what he had to do to get me to snuggle up to him in bed and sleep.

I edit a few lyrics and words before resting my head on the desk for a brief moment. A brief moment then turns into Johnnie tapping my arm, “Love wake up,you can’t sleep here,come to bed.” He whispers lovingly.

“No I have to finish this.” I say quietly looking up at him, “No,you’re coming to bed come on.” He says as he picks me up by the waist,holding me up to his waist without a reaction.

“Okay.” I whisper quietly.Tiredly I rest my head on his shoulder as we walk into our shared room,i strip myself of my clothes and put on my Pyjamas before huddling up in bed next to Johnnie.

“I love you.” I whispered as I kiss his cheek, “I love you too,princess.” He whispers before I drift of back into sleep.

[goosita]

being young!politician!snow’s secretary, continued—

the lingering gazes continue, even pick up in frequency. coriolanus greets you every single morning, says “thank you” earnestly for every fresh cup of coffee that awaits him when he arrives to work, and gives you his most dazzling grin each time he walks past your desk.

the days grow colder as december stretches on, most mornings bringing fog that clings to the windows. you wonder if coriolanus knows that you can’t stop staring when he peels his leather gloves off, the way his wrist muscles flex and jump as he adjusts his cufflinks. you watch him smooth back his pale blonde waves, the way they lay perfectly shiny at his crown. at only 25 years old, he holds a masculine grace that most men could only dream of well into their older years.

and its bitterly cold outside, but in his office, it only grows warmer and warmer.

“good morning, miss (y/n),” he greets as usual. coriolanus makes no effort to hide the way his gaze sweeps over your body behind your desk. “is that a new blouse? it’s beautiful.”

“thank you, mr. snow. i bought it over the weekend.” you give him a smile, trying hard to mask how his compliment reddens your cheeks. this is new too, the way he compliments you casually, like it’s nothing. it’s everything.

“well, you look as lovely as ever in it,” he says, voice calm and alluring. his phone rings in his office and you can see the crack in his carefully held expression, annoyance causing the slightest downturn to his lips. “barely in the door, and already on the clock it seems.”

coriolanus ducks into his office and closes the door to take the phone call, leaving you to deflate slightly.

the next time you see him is around lunchtime, when he meanders out of his office doors and over to your desk. it’s hard to continue typing and checking emails when you watch him rustle through your little candy bowl, plucking out a small lollipop to unwrap and slip into his mouth unceremoniously. coriolanus’s gaze settles on you, watching you work.

“everyone’s gone to lunch, you know,” he states, tongue working around the hard candy.

“i know, i just want to make sure i get all this done before i forget,” you reply, keeping your own focus on the computer screen. he lets out a little hum.

your heart hammers in your chest as he leans over the desk to see what you’re typing up, one palm flat on the dark stained wood while the other keeps the sucker firmly in his mouth. from the corner of your eye, you can see that it’s red. cherry flavored; your favorite.

“was there something you needed, mr. snow?” you ask, keeping your voice as steady as possible despite the way it feels hard to breathe.

“hm? oh, no. just being nosey is all.”

coriolanus waits for you to be brave enough to meet his eyes, smirking around the lollipop stick when you finally give in and glance up at him. the candy has stained his mouth red, lips shiny and plump with sugar and food dye. your thighs press together under the desk at the brief thought of tasting the cherry flavor from them when his tongue slips out to glide over his pillowy bottom lip. you wonder what he would do if you took it from his mouth, if you kept your eyes right on his and slipped it between your own li—

“well, i’ll let you get back to it, miss (y/n),” coriolanus tells you, taking a step back from your desk. he sticks the sucker back into his mouth, twirling the stick between his thumb and pointer finger. you watch him leave and swallow hard when he pauses at his office door, slowly pulling the lollipop from between his lips.

“thanks for the candy, by the way.”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Microsoft put their tax-evasion in writing and now they owe $29 billion

I'm coming to Minneapolis! Oct 15: Presenting The Internet Con at Moon Palace Books. Oct 16: Keynoting the 26th ACM Conference On Computer-Supported Cooperative Work and Social Computing.

If there's one thing I took away from Propublica's explosive IRS Files, it's that "tax avoidance" (which is legal) isn't a separate phenomenon from "tax evasion" (which is not), but rather a thinly veiled euphemism for it:

https://www.propublica.org/series/the-secret-irs-files

That realization sits behind my series of noir novels about the two-fisted forensic accountant Martin Hench, which started with last April's Red Team Blues and continues with The Bezzle, this coming February:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865847/red-team-blues

A typical noir hero is an unlicensed cop, who goes places the cops can't go and asks questions the cops can't ask. The noir part comes in at the end, when the hero is forced to admit that he's being going places the cops didn't want to go and asking questions the cops didn't want to ask. Marty Hench is a noir hero, but he's not an unlicensed cop, he's an unlicensed IRS inspector, and like other noir heroes, his capers are forever resulting in his realization that the questions and places the IRS won't investigate are down to their choice not to investigate, not an inability to investigate.

The IRS Files are a testimony to this proposition: that Leona Hemsley wasn't wrong when she said, "Taxes are for the little people." Helmsley's crime wasn't believing that proposition – it was stating it aloud, repeatedly, to the press. The tax-avoidance strategies revealed in the IRS Files are obviously tax evasion, and the IRS simply let it slide, focusing their auditing firepower on working people who couldn't afford to defend themselves, looking for things like minor compliance errors committed by people receiving public benefits.

Or at least, that's how it used to be. But the Biden administration poured billions into the IRS, greenlighting 30,000 new employees whose mission would be to investigate the kinds of 0.1%ers and giant multinational corporations who'd Helmsleyed their way into tax-free fortunes. The fact that these elite monsters paid no tax was hardly a secret, and the impunity with which they functioned was a constant, corrosive force that delegitimized American society as a place where the rules only applied to everyday people and not the rich and powerful who preyed on them.

The poster-child for the IRS's new anti-impunity campaign is Microsoft, who, decades ago, "sold its IP to to an 85-person factory it owned in a small Puerto Rican city," brokered a deal with the corporate friendly Puerto Rican government to pay almost no taxes, and channeled all its profits through the tiny facility:

https://www.propublica.org/article/the-irs-decided-to-get-tough-against-microsoft-microsoft-got-tougher

That was in 2005. Now, the IRS has come after Microsoft for all the taxes it evaded through the gambit, demanding that the company pay it $29 billion. What's more, the courts are taking the IRS's side in this case, consistently ruling against Microsoft as it seeks to keep its ill-gotten billions:

https://www.propublica.org/article/irs-microsoft-audit-back-taxes-puerto-rico-billions

Now, no one expects that Microsoft is going to write a check to the IRS tomorrow. The company's made it clear that they intend to tie this up in the courts for a decade if they can, claiming, for example, that Trump's amnesty for corporate tax-cheats means the company doesn't have to give up a dime.

This gambit has worked for Microsoft before. After seven years in antitrust hell in the 1990s, the company was eventually convicted of violating the Sherman Act, America's bedrock competition law. But they kept the case in court until 2001, running out the clock until GW Bush was elected and let them go free. Bush had a very selective version of being "tough on crime."

But for all that Microsoft escaped being broken up, the seven years of depositions, investigations, subpoenas and negative publicity took a toll on the company. Bill Gates was personally humiliated when he became the star of the first viral video, as grainy VHS tapes of his disastrous and belligerent deposition spread far and wide:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/12/whats-a-murder/#miros-tilde-1

If you really want to know who Bill Gates is beneath that sweater-vested savior persona, check out the antitrust deposition – it's still a banger, 25 years on:

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2020/09/revisiting-the-spectacular-failure-that-was-the-bill-gates-deposition/

In cases like these, the process is the punishment: Microsoft's dirty laundry was aired far and wide, its swaggering founder was brought low, and the company's conduct changed for years afterwards. Gates once told Kara Swisher that Microsoft missed its chance to buy Android because they were "distracted by the antitrust trial." But the Android acquisition came four years after the antitrust case ended. What Gates meant was that four years after he wriggled off the DoJ's hook, he was still so wounded and gunshy that he lacked the nerve to risk the regulatory scrutiny that such an anticompetitive merger would entail.

What's more, other companies got the message too. Large companies watched what happened to Microsoft and traded their reckless disregard for antitrust law for a timid respect. The effect eventually wore off, but the Microsoft antitrust case created a brief window where real competition was possible without the constant threat of being crushed by lawless monopolists. Sometimes you have to execute an admiral to encourage the others.

A decade in IRS hell will be even more painful for Microsoft than the antitrust years were. For one thing, the Puerto Rico scam was mainly a product of ex-CEO Steve Ballmer, a man possessed of so little executive function that it's a supreme irony that he was ever a corporate executive. Ballmer is a refreshingly plain-spoken corporate criminal who is so florid in his blatant admissions of guilt and shouted torrents of self-incriminating abuse that the exhibits in the Microsoft-IRS cases to come are sure to be viral sensations beyond even the Gates deposition's high-water mark.

It's not just Ballmer, either. In theory, corporate crime should be hard to prosecute because it's so hard to prove criminal intent. But tech executives can't help telling on themselves, and are very prone indeed to putting all their nefarious plans in writing (think of the FTC conspirators who hung out in a group-chat called "Wirefraud"):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/03/big-tech-cant-stop-telling-on-itself/

Ballmer's colleagues at Microsoft were far from circumspect on the illegitimacy of the Puerto Rico gambit. One Microsoft executive gloated – in writing – that it was a "pure tax play." That is, it was untainted by any legitimate corporate purpose other than to create a nonsensical gambit that effectively relocated Microsoft's corporate headquarters to a tiny CD-pressing plant in the Caribbean.

But if other Microsoft execs were calling this a "pure tax play," one can only imagine what Ballmer called it. Ballmer, after all, is a serial tax-cheat, the star of multiple editions of the IRS Files. For example, there's the wheeze whereby he has turned his NBA team into a bottomless sinkhole for the taxes on his vast fortune:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/08/tuyul-apps/#economic-substance-doctrine

Or his "tax-loss harvesting" – a ploy whereby rich people do a "wash trade," buying and selling the same asset at the same time, not so much circumventing the IRS rules against this as violating those rules while expecting the IRS to turn a blind eye:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/24/tax-loss-harvesting/#mego

Ballmer needs all those scams. After all, he was one of the pandemic's most successful profiteers. He was one of eight billionaires who added at least a billion more to his net worth during lockdown:

https://inequality.org/great-divide/billionaire-bonanza-2020/

Like all forms of rot, corruption spreads. Microsoft turned Washington State into a corporate tax-haven and starved the state of funds, paving the way for other tax-cheats like Amazon to establish themselves in the area. But the same anti-corruption movement that revitalized the IRS has also taken root in Washington, where reformers instituted a new capital gains tax aimed at the ultra-wealthy that has funded a renaissance in infrastructure and social spending:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/03/when-the-tide-goes-out/#passive-income

If the IRS does manage to drag Microsoft through the courts for the next decade, it's going to do more than air the company's dirty laundry. It'll expose more of Ballmer's habitual sleaze, and the ways that Microsoft dragged a whole state into a pit of austerity. And even more importantly, it'll expose the Puertopia conspiracy, a neocolonial project that transformed Puerto Rico into an onshore-offshore tax-haven that saw the island strip-mined and then placed under corporate management:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/27/boricua/#que-viva-albizu

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/13/pour-encoragez-les-autres/#micros-tilde-one

My next novel is The Lost Cause, a hopeful novel of the climate emergency. Amazon won't sell the audiobook, so I made my own and I'm pre-selling it on Kickstarter!

[pinkydevil16]

Unsub! Reid x Reader

18+ murder, blood, sex 

Y/n typed away at her computer as she thought about what to have for dinner, her mind going back and forth between forcing herself to cook or ordering takeout. Sighing she looked at the clock, 10 minutes left and she could pack her bag and be out the door by 5pm. Her nails clicked against the keyboard as she finished up the last report, her job just to check the BAU’s reports and finalise any details before they were sent to head office for review. It sounded easy, but each case brought in one report per BAU member and some of them ran behind more often than not, not that Y/n blamed them with their insane work schedule.

“Hey Y/n.” Spencer’s voice was chirpy as he poked his head into her little office, a small smile gracing his face as Y/n grinned and ushered him in.

“Hey Spence, you got more reports for me?” Y/n teased as she held out her hand, Spencer blushing slightly with a nervous smile handing her three folders with messy papers inside as Y/n shook her head and laughed.

“I swear if you weren’t so cute i’d kick you out of my office for handing these to me at 10 to five.” Spencer could feel his ears burn as she complimented him, her eyes now on the paperwork as she skimmed it, she knew she’d only have to upload his work since she’d never found a single error in the past 3 years. 

“Thanks Y/n.” Spencer stumbled over his words as he pushed his hair back and waved, exiting her office as Y/n sighed and placed the folders on top of the others she had accumulated in the last few hours. It was a friday and she didn’t want to stay late but the thought of picking it all up Monday was much less appealing.

She could hear everyone saying bye and leaving, JJ, Emily and Derek popping their heads in to wave goodbye whilst Y/n waved and continued typing up the reports. 

“Hey Beautiful.” Penelope spoke as she entered, sitting across from Y/n as they grinned at each other, Y/n taking a break to lean against her hand and stare at her friend.

“Hey gorgeous, what can i do ya for?” Y/n winked at Penelope as the blonde giggled and looked at her desk.

“I fancy a sex on the beach and you’re just the gal i’m looking for to provide it.” Penelope flirted back, the two laughing as Y/n leant back in her chair and looked at her reports, she was only half way through the first of three that she wanted done. Penelope quickly stood and placed her hands on the folders, Y/n pouting at her friend as she gave her a devilish grin.

“The reports will be here Monday, however $3 cocktails and nachos won’t be.” Y/n rolled her eyes and stood up, Penelope cheering as she watched Y/n grab her bag and turn off her computer.

“In that case how could i say no?” 

Y/n and Penelope laughed loudly as they drank their fourth cocktail, a pornstar martini, the both merry as they spoke about their plans for the weekend.

“Honestly i think i’m going to be so hungover tomorrow the way we’re going that i’ll be laid on the sofa all day.” Y/n laughed as Penelope spoke about her plans, Y/n agreeing as the pair ordered two more cocktails. 

“So…how was your date?” Y/n groaned at Penelope’s comment, sinking into her seat as she sipped from her straw.

“I thought it went really well, we shared a kiss and he promised to call me the next day. Three days later i tried to call him, which sounds so desperate now i say it but he was really nice y’know? And it says the number doesn’t exist.” Penelope reached over and took her hand, sympathising with her friend as Y/n finished her cocktail and smiled at the waiter as he brought the next round. The cute black haired man winking at her as he placed the cocktail in front of her, a napkin placed next to it as he walks away. Penelope grabbed the napkin and squealed, Y/n sitting up straight as she looked between her friend and the cute waiter.

“Well then tonight just might be your lucky night! He left his number and wrote he finishes at 11.” Y/n blushed and grinned as she took the paper, looking towards the waiter where he stood, leaning against the bar with his finger in a call signal grinning at her. Y/n turned back to Penelope and the pair giggled and began drinking their cocktails, the waiter coming over and flirting with Y/n periodically. 

Penelope looked at her watch with a drunken grin, standing up on wobbly legs as she pulled out her phone and dialled Derek knowing he would come get her in a heartbeat.

“Well my beautiful squirrel friend, it is 10 to 11 and the hot waiter is basically undressing you with his eyes so i am going to take my leave. Don’t do anything i wouldn’t.” Y/n laughed, standing and hugging Penelope before she watched the bubbly blonde leave, hearing her speak to Derek as the waiter walked over.

“Can i get you another drink? On me.” His hand extended as Y/n placed hers in his, allowing him to pull her from the booth and towards the bar as she grinned at him.

“I fancy a nightcap.” The waiter grinned widely as he threw his apron behind the bar and they walked to the exit.

“Whatever the lady wants. James.” Y/n shook his hand as she introduced himself, glad she was more than tipsy for some friday night fun. She needed a pick me up and here was a handsome tall black haired waiter to provide just that. 

Y/n stumbled as she walked, James laughing as he held her up, the pair talking about anything that came to their heads before Y/n’s phone buzzed. Pouting, she stopped walking, James holding her elbow as she answered it.

“Hellloooooo.” Y/n’s voice was full of cheer as she grinned at James, wiggling her eyebrows as he dropped his head to her neck and peppered kisses along the exposed skin.

“Hey Y/n, it’s Spence, are you at home?” Y/n covered the speaker and whispered to James.

“Stop distracting me.” Her smile giving away that she wanted him to do it more as he pulled her into his chest and kissed her. Parting quickly as she placed the phone back against her ear.

“Hey Spencey, no i’m out right now, is everything okay?” Her voice sweet as she swayed in James’ arms, his hands roaming her body and pinching her eliciting drunken giggles as she looked at him.

“Mrs Fredicks just knocked saying Dorito has somehow climbed onto her fire escape and she’s got him with her.” Y/n face palmed as she moved off of James and mouthed an apology to him as she sobered up slightly.

“Oh god, okay i’ll be back asap, i swear i locked all the windows but he is an escape artist.”

“Sorry.” Y/n hushed Spencer, thanking him for calling her and hung up. Turning to James she gave him an apologetic smile and leaned into his arms.

“I am sorry James but i have to go, my cat has decided to cockblock me.” James laughed and placed a kiss on her lips, his hands squeezing her hips as she let out a small moan.

“It’s okay Y/n, next time you come to the bar, drinks will be on me.” Y/n grinned as she waved goodbye and hailed a taxi. 

Y/n sighed as she knocked on the apartment below hers, smiling apologetically to Mrs Fredicks as she older lady opened the door with her ginger cat in tow.

“Here you go.” Y/n apologised profusely as she took Dorito from her neighbour, the older lady waving her off with a smile.

“It’s okay, he’s a sweet boy.” Y/n thanked her again as the door closed, turning and holding her cat up to face her as she scowled at him.

“You Mr Dorito are in big trouble.” Y/n placed kisses over his face as she cuddled him close, unlocking her apartment and letting Dorito in before she went around and found the bathroom window open. Shaking her head she closed it, she swore she had closed that before she left this morning but she must have forgotten. Sighing she kicked off her shoes and grabbed her slippers, exiting her apartment and walking over to the door on the right knocking as she waited for an answer. Spencer answered moments later with a sleepy smile, matching check pyjama’s on brand for him as Y/n smiled up at him.

“Hey Pretty boy, thank you for calling me. Dorito’s all safe and sound.” Spencer nodded and leant against his doorway as he took her in, the smell of cocktails and her smeared lipstick giving her away before she yawned and rubbed her eyes.

“Thank you again Spence, have a good night.” Y/n waved to him as he wished her good night back and closed his door. Y/n entering her apartment and stripping down before flopping on her bed and passing out. 

Y/n was awoken suddenly as she heard her phone blaring, her head pounding as she got out of bed and wandered around her apartment searching for the obnoxious noise. Finding her phone buzzing on the sofa she grabbed it and answered it quickly.

“Hello?” Y/n didn’t have a chance to fully wake up before she heard Penelope’s loud voice.

“Oh my god you’re okay! Thank god! Have you seen the news?” Y/n held the phone away from her ear before yawning and shaking her head.

“No, why?” Y/n heard Penelope gasp before she said she’d be over soon, before Y/n could say anything the phone was cut off. Sighing she wiped her eyes and turned on the tv, her jaw dropping as she saw James’ picture all over the news.

“A man was detained last night after police found human remains in his house and garden. The suspect was apprehended and arrested by local law enforcement for three hours before a handwritten confession was handed to the chief. The man’s name is James Stevens and he is being held in police custody until a court date can be arranged. So far none of the remains have been identified but we have been told there was atleast three women’s bones found with potentially more to be discovered. This was the morning news at 8am, stay tuned for the weather.” Y/n turned the tv off as she stared at the screen wide eyed, she had almost gone home with him, she could have been his next murder. She could feel her body shiver in disgust as she ran the shower, turning it up as she climbed in and tried to clean the man off her, scrubbing at her lips and cleansing herself. Climbing out she wrapped a towel around herself, hearing her apartment door open and the sound of Penelope clattering about.

“In the bedroom.” Y/n shouted as she grabbed a t-shirt, throwing it on and pulling on some underwear as Penelope ran in and pulled her into a tight hug.

“When i saw the news i almost had a heart attack!” Y/n let out a small laugh and hugged her back. 

“I’m okay, luckily Spence called me as Dorito had gotten out.” Penelope let go of Y/n and picked Dorito up from the bed, the ginger cat letting out a grumble as she kissed him dramatically.

“You angel Dorito!” Y/n laughed and shook her head as she walked through her apartment and flopped onto the sofa, Penelope carrying Dorito as she came in and sat beside her.

“Seriously though, that’s so creepy.” Y/n nodded as she ran her hands down her face, fingers pulling on her under eye as she groaned. 

“Why is my life like this?” Penelope pat her friend's arm as she grabbed the remote and turned on Netflix.

“Let's have a chill day.” Y/n nodded as she grabbed her phone and sent Spence a quick text thanking him for calling her last night. 

Spencer grinned as he read the message, his apartment dark as he laid on his sofa, his eyes moving to the tv where he watched the video of James being arrested again. He felt pride surge through him as he stood, his hand running along the fabric of the sofa as he entered his kitchen, sighing to himself as he began cleaning the blood soaked knife. 

Y/n smiled at Spencer as she opened her apartment door, Spence smiling back as he took in her attire, a fitted white blouse and black jeans which complimented her figure.

“Thank you for walking me in, sorry it was such short notice i’m still a bit freaked out from the news.” Spencer nodded and moved so Y/n could lock her door, placing the key in her bag before turning to Spencer.

“It’s no problem Y/n, i love walking in with you.” Y/n smiled widely at Spencer as the pair began walking down the stairs, Y/n listening intently to Spencer’s ramble about the new chest move he had learnt over the weekend. His voice full of joy as he moved his hands around explaining how it would corner most opponents, his laugh contagious as she laughed too and explained how she had only won one chess game in her whole life.

“You’ll have to come round and have a game with me, i’ll teach you everything.” Y/n blushed slightly as she agreed, pushing her hair behind her ear and grinning.

“That would be amazing, thank you Spence.” 

Spencer walked around his apartment, his mind whirling as he tried to make everything look purposefully out of place and disorganised as he wanted everyone to believe he was. He’d cleaned the apartment from head to toe before casually splitting coffee and placing a mug over it to make mug stains over the various surfaces. The kitchen had coffee granules and sugar sporadically spread across it to emanate use, the fridge had a mixture of fresh and out of date food, not by a lot but enough that he could be seen as forgetful of it. He’d laid certain books out, coffee stains on specific pages and a pen that he’d broken leaked onto another one. His bed was lazily made, spraying his everyday scent onto the pillows and the sofa to make it seem like he was there often. He’d left a few articles of clothing in a pile on the floor, all clean but purposefully mixed about to create a laundry pile. His bathroom had a toothbrush on the sink, toothpaste put in a cup and a couple of body washes sat at the bottom of the shower. A fresh towel he’d sprayed down with water hung up on the radiator, and the window cracked slightly. It looked like someone truly lived in it, as opposed to his normal almost borderline military lifestyle within the four walls. He placed a case file on the coffee table, opening it and placing pictures around to look like he’d recently looked through it, a half finished coffee sat next to it along with a breakfast bar wrapper. Nodding he concluded it was perfect before he texted Y/n to say she could come over whenever she was ready. It took her 30 minutes before she knocked, 30 minutes of pouring over each detail of his outfit and hair, making it look messy yet attractive. Opening the door he gave her a pathetic smile allowing her in, Y/n gushing over his apartment, looking at all his books and giggling at all the coffee stains.

“You really need to cut down.” She teased Spencer pretending to be embarrassed as he cleared the half filled cup and shoved the case file into a drawer, a bashful smile on his face as he told her to make herself at home. Entering the kitchen he pretended to clean, washing the cup up and placing it down. He watched  her as she sat down, her hands running over the fabric and smiling to herself at the book placed next to the seat, her head turning to read the page. Grabbing two drinks from the fridge he walked in, smiling as he handed her one and sat next to her.

“If you ever want to borrow any of my books you're more than welcome but i can’t promise they won’t be stained or full of pen marks.” Y/n giggled as she opened the drink, looking around before placing it carefully on the coffee table and clasping her hands together.

“Alright Genius, show me how to play chess.” Spencer grinned as he grabbed his board, spreading it out and spending hours pouring every bit of knowledge he could into Y/n. His mind took in each part of her as she nodded along and tried each move, her eyes lighting up when she captured a piece or pouting when Spencer won. It was so domestic, so perfect and exactly what he desired, for her to be in his space and to enjoy him as he enjoyed her. 

Y/n yawned as she looked outside, the sky was now dark as she smiled at Spencer, his eyes half open as she watched him take her King.

“You are way too good at this. Thank you for an amazing day.” Spencer smiled as she stood, standing with her as she gave him a hug and pulled back, running a hand through her hair.

“I’d better check on Dorito incase he’s somehow broken out again.” Y/n laughed and waved at Spencer as she opened his apartment door, his hand coming to hold it as he watched her enter her apartment. Her voice sweet as she called out to Dorito, a small giggle coming from behind the door before it closed. Spencer closed the door and sighed, itching his head from the headache he’d had all day. Trying to hold in his own thoughts and control his impulses was tiring, especially when she was sitting so close he could smell her conditioner. 

Entering his bedroom he unlocked his bedroom door, smirking as he pulled out her underwear and laid on the bed, smelling them with his eyes closed as he pictured her laid out in front of him. Her eyes half closed and chest rising and falling as he thrust into her, his hand dropping to his cock as he released it and thrust into his palm. He imagined how she’d look at him as he made her play her next move, her breasts bouncing as he thrust harshly into her making her moan, hand shakily grabbing a pawn and pushing it two places forward. He’d easily take the piece and in return he’d bite her nipple, hand on her hip as she whined and clenched around his cock, his eyes meeting hers and indicating to the board. Her eyes brimming with tears as he dropped a hand to her clit and forced her closer to the edge, a choked moan coming out as she knocked over the chess pieces. His own moan cut into his fantasy as he spilled over his hand, panting as he opened his eyes and moved the underwear off his face. Huffing as he got up and entering the bathroom, showering quickly before staring at himself in the mirror. 

He needed a plan. 

Spencer poured over the ideas in his head as he held onto the blade in his pocket, he’d already enacted his first part of the plan and now it was time to put it all into place. Breaking down the door he attacked the lady, his knife slicing through her carotid artery and stabbed her multiple times, the glove on his hand feeling wet from the blood before he threw the knife to the side. The shoes too big for his feet stomped in the blood as he trailed around the apartment, throwing things onto the ground and finding her address book. Opening it to the correct page and smearing a bloodied glove print over the name before he left, leaving the door slightly ajar as he did. 

Y/n cried as she sat in Hotch’s office, Penelope and JJ sat with her as they explained James Stevens had escaped prison and her neighbour Mrs Fredricks had been found murdered. She didn’t know how to process the information as Hotch turned a photo over to her, an address book had been found in Mrs Fredricks apartment, Y/n’s name and number scribbled down by the lady with Doritos name next to it and a little heart. Blood covering the page as she shakily took the photo and sobbed. Penelope consoling her as JJ looked over the photo and frowned at Hotch. 

“I think it would be best if we put you in secure housing and have someone with you until we can find him.” Penelope agreed with Hotch as she hugged her friend, Y/n nodding as she wiped her tears and stood, thanking Hotch as she left his office. Her head down as she bumped into Spencer, his eyes full of hurt as he hugged her, her tears soaking his jumper as he comforted her.

“I’m so sorry Y/n, I know how much you liked Mrs Fredricks.” Y/n nodded against his chest and sniffled as she raised her head and wiped her eyes.

“I just don’t understand why someone would do that to her. She was so sweet and all because of me, she’s dead because of me Spence.” Spencer went to comfort her but she brushed past him and rushed to the ladies toilets, his name being called by Hotch as he pretended to look concerned and entered his office. 

Spencer grinned as he watched James struggle in his chair, tears streaming down his face as he begged for his life.

“Please, i don’t understand. I did what you wanted, i, i confessed and i didn’t say anything. Please. Please just let me go. Please.” His voice cracked from his begging as he sobbed, Spencer laughing as he slowly pressed the needle into his arm, watching James eyes squeeze close before opening, pupils blown and brain slowly rotting from the drugs. 

“I need you for just a bit longer James, just enough to get her into my arms. Then and only then, do you get to die.” 

Y/n hugged herself as she sat on the sofa, the safe house felt so empty apart from her and Dorito, no neighbours moving around, no opening or closing of doors. Just her and her cat, she knew an agent was outside watching but she didn’t feel safe in the slightest, it had been a week and two more bodies had turned up. It had terrified Y/n to the core how similar they looked to her, and each one more brutalised than the other. Jumping she heard a knock, her hands shaking as the door opened revealing Spencer, a takeaway pizza in his hands and an apologetic smile on his face.

“I’m sorry for scaring you.” Y/n calmed her heart and smiled sadly back at him, watching him closely as he placed the pizza down and locked the door, checking outside before closing the curtains and sitting beside her.

“How are you?” Y/n just nodded in response, opening the pizza and taking a bite as she leant against Spencer and took solace in his company. 

“I don’t know.” Spencer nodded, taking a slice and eating it as he felt her relax against him, her warmth invading him as her scent captured his senses and his whole body reacted to her closeness. 

Spencer spent the next week going between the safe house and Y/n’s apartment, his FBI badge allowing him private entrance over and over as he did as he pleased. Sifting through her lingerie, showering with her products, taking her clothes and personal items. Anything and everything he desired to do was easy to accomplish, all he had to do was kill someone every now and again. It brought him such a thrill to watch the life leave their eyes, to know how pitifully they died at his hands and that each kill brought Y/n further into his arms. 

Now he was going to make sure she didn’t leave them.

Y/n curled up next to Spencer on the sofa, the lightning crackling outside making her jump as he soothed her, the tv playing some movie she couldn’t concentrate on as she heard a gunshot. Her body jumped up as Spencer’s eyes widened, his hand grabbing hers as he pushed her into the bathroom, handing her a gun with shaky hands and demanding she stay there. Y/n could feel tears falling down her face as she stared at the gun in horror, another gun shot rang out and she began sobbing, every noise making her body want to collapse onto the floor. 

Spencer held a gun close to his side as he ran around the building, hiding his smirk at the FBI agent on the ground, blood dripping from the gunshot wound to the head and stab wounds to his chest, turning her saw James stumbling towards the entrance of the safe house. His gun raised as he let out a shot, pretending to curse himself as it missed, he knew the BAU would be here soon after someone saw the video feed. Now he ran inside, calling out to Y/n as he found her, her gun on the floor as James held a knife to her throat protecting his body from Spencer. His eyes dilated and breathing resembling that of a rabid animal. Spencer held the gun up, showing James he was of no threat as he watched his commands take over.

“Back away or i slit her throat Pig.” His voice was almost robotic as he read off the mental script he’d been hypnotised to recall. 

“James, you don’t want to do this. Please give her to me.” James pressed the blade closer to her throat as Spencer pretended to step forward out of concern and winced at her face, eyes darting to her as she cried.

“Y/n. Y/n listen to me. It’s going to be okay.” Y/n tried to nod, her eyes staring into Spencer’s as he gave her a reassuring smile and looked back at James with an angry look.

“Put the knife down and we can talk this through James. No one has to get hurt.” The last three words triggered James’ next actions as he moved the knife away from Y/n’s throat, his arm still around it as he pointed it to Spencer and shook with anger.

“Oh yes they do! You all just had to get involved when i was finally getting what i wanted! All she had to do was come back to mine and die.” He seethed, Y/n shaking in fear before he threw her down and ran at Spencer, Y/n watching in horror as the knife slid along Spencer’s arm before he managed to shove James off. His gun shot twice before James’ body hit the ground, Y/n letting out a scream as his head rolled to the side and his eyes bore into her head. Spencer ran to her, holding her tightly as his blood dripped down his arm, her body collapsing into his as she clung to him for dear life. His words echoing in her head as he coaxed her to stand, turning her head away from James as he guided her out the house, a sob escaping her as she saw the agent on the ground but Spencer turned her away. The team arrived moments later as Penelope engulfed her in a hug and Derek tried to get Spencer to seek medical attention but he played his part perfectly. Refusing treatment, saying he was okay, wincing when Derek touched his arm. Everything was falling perfectly into place, the ambulance cleaned him up and just like that he was holding Y/n in the back of the SUV whilst Derek drove them to the apartment block. 

Spencer held open her apartment door as Y/n stood in the doorway, her arms hugging her before she looked back at Spencer

“Umm…could i stay with you tonight Spence?” Spencer pretended to be shocked and nodded, giving her a concerned look as she shuffled out the doorway allowing him to lock her apartment and watched her follow him to his. He unlocked the door and opened it, letting her in as he mumbled an apology for the mess. Y/n not even responding as she awkwardly stood in his living room, he’d made sure it looked more chaotic, a case file on James on the coffee table, aswell as pictures of each of his victims and a map of where he’d been. Pretending to panic he rushed around hiding them all as Y/n walked towards the pictures, picking up one of the victims photos and staring at it blankly as he slowly approached her.

“I’m sorry i didn’t think.” Y/n shook her head and looked up at him, handing him the picture as he shoved it inside the case file and carded his hand through his hair in fake stress.

“You don’t need to be sorry Spence. You saved my life.” Y/n reached up giving him a kiss on the cheek as he blushed, a real one that made his whole body tingle in excitement as she hugged herself closed.

“Do you…do you want to shower and i’ll set the bed up? I’ll sleep on the sofa.” Y/n nodded emptily as she wandered into the bathroom, a grin coming over Spencer’s face as he threw a blanket and pillow on the sofa, entering his bedroom as he made sure it was perfect. The bed was fresh but he’d made sure to lay in it multiple times and spray it aggressively so the second she touched it she’d be reminded of him. Grabbing a t shirt and boxers he folded up a towel and placed them outside the bathroom door, listening intently as he heard her showering, his mind demanding he enter and fuck her under the hot water. To fill her fully with him whilst she cried but he knew it would be much sweeter to wait. 

He waited by the kitchen as he heard the shower turn off, her feet padding against the floor for a while before he could hear her gasp and realise she had no clothes, the door opening a crack as she went to call his name. Her eyes dropping to the clothes as she smiled with teary eyes and collected them, his smile turning dark as he chuckled to himself, pouring tea for both himself and Y/n as she exited the shower.

“Thank you for the clothes.” Spencer nodded as he handed her the tea, apologising for it being a little cold as he hadn’t got the timing quite right but she brushed him off, drinking it with a little moan as she felt her body relax, a smile on her face as she looked at him. Y/n shuffled her feet for a minute as she looked between the cup and the sad excuse for a bed Spencer had made, guilt filling her before she put the cup down and looked at him fully.

“I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me Spence, I can't have you sleep on the sofa, if you’re okay with it maybe we could share the bed?” She knew he would never let her sleep on the sofa, he was too sweet for that and she watched as he blushed and stumbled over his words coming up with excuses before he looked at her desperate face and agreed. Y/n smiling as she took his hand and guided him into the bedroom, both shy as they crawled into the bed, Spencer pretending to be rigid as she curled up to him.

“Is this okay?” Spencer nodded as Y/n gulped and hugged him, basking in his warmth as she felt him slowly relax, aware of how he was trying to be as respectful as he could. Y/n felt his arms slowly close around her as she closed her eyes and felt safe with him, his lips meeting her head in a quick kiss before he apologised.

“I’m sorry.” He stuttered out, red in the face as Y/n looked up at him, her eyes dropping to his lips before she slowly moved forward, eyes finding his to give him time to move away before she met his lips. The two closing their eyes as they kissed, hands slowly becoming harsher until Y/n was panting under him as he claimed her mouth. Both panting and frantic as Spencer stripped Y/n, her hands scrambling to push his shirt over his head, barely moving away to do so until their lips met again. Hot and heavy as her legs fell open allowing him between them, her hands clutching onto his upper arms as she moaned against his lips. Their bodies grinding against one another as he desperately tried to push down his bottoms, her hands coming to untie the knot holding them up as they giggled, eyes finding each other before they slowed down. Their kisses were more gentle and full of meaning as Spencer fully stripped, his body pulling away from hers to crawl down her body when she stopped him.

“You don’t…you don’t need to go down. I’m ready.” She felt ashamed at how aroused she was, Spencer’s eyes dropping to her pussy as he held in a moan at how soaked she was. For him. Nodding he pretended to be bashful as he kissed her, her arms around his back as he kissed down her neck, sucking and biting her collarbones. He could tell she was getting restless, her legs wiggling and hips lifting slightly to meet his cock before he lined up and raised his head.

“Are you sure?” Y/n nodded quickly, pulling his head back down to kiss him as he pushed halfway in, reminding himself he had to be timid, inexperienced and unsure, not overly confident and ready to fuck her so hard she screamed. Instead he looked at her as she nodded and bit her lip, a moan dropping from her lips as he slowly pushed further, his eyes full of care as he watched her face contort in pleasure. Her nails digging into his skin until he was fully in, her breath shaky as she ran her hands along his shoulders, one twisting in his hair whilst the other held his neck. Her head raising to meet his lips as he began thrusting, slowly and controlled, stuttering his hips to emanate that of someone unsure, each thrust gradually getting deeper as she moaned. Spencer moaned her name as he pushed his head between her shoulder and neck, kissing along her neck as she whimpered in pleasure. His thrusts now quick and long, his body fully controlled and each thrust powerful as he felt her jolt in pleasure and squeeze his cock each time. He could tell she was getting close, her pussy a vice-like grip on his cock as she moaned his name and clung to him. Raising his head he kissed her deeply, a hand reaching down to rub her clit as her head fell back and body spasmed, just like that she was cumming around his cock. He knew her body so well he could tell how deep he needed to thrust to optimise her pleasure, to push her over the edge and force her to whimper at overstimulation. Panting he pressed his forehead against hers as he slowed, pretending to not know what to do as she mumbled.

“No…no i’m okay. Keep going, please, i want you to cum.” The words alone made his dick pulse, making her squirm as he nodded and kissed her gently, his eyes now watching his cock slide in and out of her pussy as he quickened, her moans filling his ears as she cried out, pussy tightening around him as he moaned and came suddenly. His own mind was blown by how quickly he had lost control, eyes shooting open to stare at Y/n, her eyes still closed whilst her pussy milked him. His thrusts slowed until he stilled and let some of his weight go, her hands running up and down soothingly on his back. He went to move off but instead she locked her legs and shook her head, both of them sweaty and boiling as they cuddled, his soft cock nestled in her pussy as their breathing slowed until he could hear Y/n had fallen asleep. Raising his head he slipped from her pussy, watching her carefully to ensure she was asleep before spreading her lips and watching his cum seep out. Using his finger he pushed it back in, loving how she whined at the intrusion but her pussy took him so well. Chuckling to himself he laid beside her, pulling her into his side as he fell asleep beside her. 

Y/n didn’t move back into her own apartment, instead she moved Dorito in and Spencer had to remove any trace of his previous stalking from existence. Now he had her in blissful domestic life, she worked from home, case files brought home by Spencer so she could relax all day after he fucked her thoroughly each night. A wide smile on her face each time he came home, rushing into his arms and kissing him whilst she asked about his day. He’d finally gotten everything he wanted, sure he still would go out and kill every so often, just to quench the need but when he returned and felt her hug him it all slipped away. It was just bliss. His plan had worked, she was his. 

[sugawhaaa]

MINGI X READER🏁

💧Going fast isn't always physical💧

{{Chapter one}}

Warnings::suggestive, mentions of smoking/drinking/murder/violent acts under the influence(mingi and reader do not take part in any of these)

Pairing:: Racer!Mingi x referee!fem!reader

Genre:: street racing AU, lots of illegal stuff ex: street racing, trespassing, vandalism, driving under the influence, etc. Mingi is flirty asf, reader is mentioned to have social anxiety a few times

Word count:: 3 744

A/N:: surprise! It's a street racer AU 💀 ik it sounds weird but I promise if you read it makes sense

Special note‼️ spoilers for the story BTW - near the middle of the story reader confronts Russell about seeking attention and Russell is written to be overacting which may seem over dramatic but a fun fact I learned from a psychology university professor 2 years ago, when people are called out on their bullshit they overreact and act out of line, trying to excuse themselves. It is a natural reaction for people to act dramatically. This is even more so when the person has been hiding this lie or trait for a long time. The more you know :)

🎧::

You sat at your desk chair as the library halls started slimming down. You check back at the clock to see it was 9:00 pm. You yawn and stretch in your chair. You get up and stride over to the entryway and flip the sign to “closed” and lock the door. You go back to your desk and check a few things on your computer before signing out. You take a basket of a few books and travel around the library putting the books back in their respective places while also checking for any stragglers around the library that didn't notice the time or the darkness outside. You put the second last book on the shelf before something catches your attention from the corner of your eye.

Something bright yellow. You turn to see a man asleep on one of the desks of the library, his book next to his head. You walk over to him but surprisingly he doesn't wake or budge. He snores ever so softly as he lies there. He has bright yellow hair that fades into a bright red almost orange. He has circular glasses that are pushed off his face due to him resting on the table. He has a long brown trench coat on with a gray turtleneck underneath. He has a pair of earbuds in with the strings dangling down around to the desk, near where his book rests.

You stand there puzzled. You've never had to wake up someone like this. Sure you've woken up friends, or your mother in the middle of the night but this was a man you've never seen before. You lean down and extend a hand out to tap him but hesitate. You look at his face as he rests, at complete peace, his lips slightly parted as he breathes heavily. He has long lashes and a freckle underneath his eye. You take a deep breath and tap his back lightly but he doesn't budge.

“Sir,” you tap him a little more forcibly with the palm of your hand. You see his eyebrows twitch and his eyes peer open. He lulls his head up with a groan. His voice is much deeper than you expected and it takes you aback. You take your hand off his back and smile slightly. “Sir, the library is closing,” you say softly and he rubs his eyes groaning again. He runs a hand through his hair, slicking it out of his face as he tries to wake himself up.

“What time is it?” He groans again as he attempts to get himself organized. Closing his book, putting his glasses on and taking out his earbuds that played lofi music.

“It's nine thirty,” you reply and he looks surprised.

“I've been sleeping for four hours!” He panics and grabs his things. You chuckle softly and follow after him as he rushes to the door.

“Did you check that book out or…” you ask softly as he rushes down the stairs.

“Oh sorry, no, here,” he hands you the book as you make it to the main lobby. He heads for the door. “Sorry for the trouble! Thank you for waking me!” He waves as he scurries out the door. You wave back before heading to the desk. You set the book on the counter and notice something in one of the pages, probably a bookmark. You open it up and a driver's license slips down the page. You're taken aback by the license, expecting to see some dollar store cat bookmark or something. Who uses a driver's license as a bookmark anyways? Apparently a man named Song Mingi. Age 24, height 6, 0, blood type B, date of birth 8/9/99. All the information was there. In his photo he had blonde hair and a suit on. The license has expired though, strange for a man who looks so professional. You look out the main windows to see if he's near enough for you to catch him and give it to him but he's nowhere to be seen. You frown, trying to decide how to handle the situation. For now you put it in your wallet and set the book in a basket. Most people who come to this library tend to come back multiple times.

For now your concern was to close up and get home, you do just that. Your apartment is only a short walk away from the library so you grabbed your things and took a short walk by yourself. You get home and grab yourself a snack before resting, setting an alarm for 1am. You laid down in your bed, drifting off to sleep.

You awoke to the sound of your alarm and rolled yourself out of bed. You stretched and got your outfit on that you always wear to events like these. You throw on a tight black mini skirt, a crop top that barely covers anything but to make up for the lack of coverage you throw on a leather jacket. It's mainly black but it has checkered accents on it that really tie it together. You throw on your platform boots with black stripes going up the side. You grab a purse that contains your phone, keys, and your wallet. Just in case.

You take one last look in the mirror and conclude that you're ready to go out. You grab your checkered flag and swing it over your shoulder. You walk to the below city streets with bridges over top of them, tunnels around the roads. People surround the sides of the streets and sidewalks. You walk up to where the race is supposed to start and see there's only one car up on the road currently but there are many people here to watch so you must be in the right place.

That's the problem with being a street racing referee, sometimes you don't know if you're in the right place. Most of the time you're correct but it'd be really embarrassing if you got the racing date wrong. You strut out in front of the starting line waiting for competeros to show up. The car in front of you was sleek and red with lots of drawings and stickers on it. You hold your flag on your shoulder and check the time. 2:21 am. You sigh before seeing another car roll up. It's bright green with deep blue accents. It looks much faster but the win depends on the driver. You put your hand on your hip, the other hand holding the flag low to the ground as people start handing around money, placing their bets on which racer will win this race. Drinks start spiraling as well, smoke drifts off into the air from a few different directions as people start getting hyped up. You nod your head and people start paying attention.

You shout out your usual speel to the drivers basically explaining no cheating, no killing people, and no sore losers. You start your countdown as the drivers grip their wheels and Rev up. “3, 2, 1,” you pause and raise the flag. “Go!” You slam the flag down and the car's speed off. The wind from their speed whining through your hair. You walk off to the side and watch the cars go up the street. People continue their bets and pull out their cameras. Chatter fills the tunnel. People on the other side of the race start shouting as the cars rush past them.

As the cars come up from their circle to the tunnel again you raise your flag and as each car passes by the finish line someone chalked on the road you whip the flag down. So far, you were correct. The green car is in the lead and people start shouting out to the racers, cheering. You put your hand on your hip again as you watch the race go on. After 2 more laps the winner has been decided. The green car crosses the line first and drifts across the street, blocking the road to prove his victory. Smoke blows from his drift as the car screeches.

Cheers envelop the tunnel as money gets thrown around. The door to the green car opens to a tall man with firey hair. Yellow to red. You look up surprised, it was the man from the library! He even had a freckle under his right eye just like the one at the library. He looked very different now though. A tight white and red sport shirt hugged his muscular body as he strutted out of the car. Goggles strapped to his head and think cargo pants extenuating his thin waist and wide hips. He went up to the man standing by the red car, arms crossed as he leaned on the side of his car.

Mingi extended his hand out to the racer and he scoffed, turning his head. Mingi turned to you with a smirk. “What happened to no sore losers. Right hottie?” He put a hand on his hip as he cocked his head up. You feel blush dust on your cheeks as Mingi looks at you. Did he call you hottie? Should you be offended or flustered? You nodded as you held the flag on your shoulder. Mingi turned back to the opponent with a smirk and he complied, shaking his hand. “Good game,” Mingi smiled as he grabbed the money hidden in his opponent's hand. Mingi went back over to his car, chatting to friends with dyed hair. You grabbed your purse and found your wallet pulling out the license Mingi had left at the library. You looked up at him, people surrounding him and laughing. You wanted to give it to him but there were too many people, it'd be embarrassing.

You might be able to look hot and confident but nothing could hide the fact that on the inside your social anxiety was persistent. You waited until the crowd died off and other drivers left, leaving Mingi open. You walked up to him.

“Mingi,” you call out and he turns to face you.

“Oh hey, you're the referee right?” He smiles at you and you feel your face heat up. His smile is so gentle, pure, and genuine. Despite looking like an absolute delinquent he seems genuinely nice.

“Yeah…” you speak softly and Mingi looks a little confused. “You left this,” you hold up his license and he looks confused.

“You're the girl from the library?!” He looks surprised as he takes the card from you. “Or wait, are you? You look just as pretty as she did,” he frowns as he looks at you, analyzing your features.

“Yes,” you blush. “And thank you, but I just wanted to give you this,” you nod to the card and begin to head off but he grabs your wrist.

“Wait, you can't tell anybody about this alright?” He looks at you with puppy eyes and you raise a brow.

“About what?” You ask as he lets go of your hand. He leans in and begins to speak softly.

“That I go to the library,” he explains and you look at him confused.

“Why?” You ask, taken aback by his statement. You straighten your posture but Mingi pulls you back down, huddling you in as if you were gossiping in high-school.

“Because! If people found out I go to the library and actually do productive things like reading and work it'll ruin my reputation! I'll look like a nerd, weird kid,” he explains and you hold back your laugh.

“You kind of already are a weird kid,” you explain and he pouts. “Fine, I won't tell anyone,” you roll your eyes and straighten your posture again.

“Thank you~” Mingi smiles as he shoves his license into his back pocket. The crowd around has died off a bit but still a good chunk of people remain. As you go to say goodbye to Mingi the opponent racer comes up to the two of you shouting. Mingi frowns and rolls his eyes before turning to him.

“You cheated!” The man shouts and Mingi raises a brow.

“I did?” He smirks with a laugh and the opponent does not approve of his cocky behavior.

“Yes, dumbass!” He towers over Mingi trying to intimidate him. “I never lost to you in my life! We've been in so many races and somehow this one time when you just happen to be friends with the referee you win!” He shouts and the crowd starts getting drawn into the drama but now you, we're more than getting drawn in, you were part of it.

“Listen, Russell, I don't even know this chick's name,” Mingi reassured the opponent and the name that rolled off of Mingis tongue struck a memory buried in your head.

The name Russell Cardiac wasn't unheard of among most street racers or street racing fans. He had been arrested for crashing into another racer a few years back. Fortunately, the driver wasn't murdered in the process but he did suffer from some moderate injuries. It was a big discussion for a few years mainly because Russell was already known for being a dirty player but that one time he happened to take it too far. Mingi was lucky Russell didn't pull some shit.

“Oh, so you don't know the name of…” Russell paused as he glanced over at you. “The girl you're sleeping with?” Russell retorted and Mingi laughed. The crowd started going crazy, whispering and gasping.

“Whoa, whoa, I met this girl last night bro,” Mingi raises his hands to chest level as if submitting to Russell. You sigh and shake your head. It was obvious Russell just wanted attention, like always, but you didn't want to be a part of it. He was known to be violent and fierce, quite popular even, but after the accident, he lost his reputation and people stopped talking about him. Now he was constantly fishing for the attention he once used to get without begging for it.

“Even worse! Sleeping with a woman you just met!” Russell dramatized and you scoffed.

“Listen, attention whore!” You bark out at him and he's taken aback by your aggressive behavior. Usually, the women at these events don't really give a fuck about anything going on and just roll with the ball. “I met this man last night on a whim, he treated me nicely, we parted ways, and that was it!” You put your hands on your hips and Mingi nods. “Being a piss baby isn't gonna make you win more races. Try and actually get better at racing before trying to cry for attention,” you spell it out for him in front of everyone and the crowd starts mumbling to each other. Russell blushes, realizing he's been called out in front of everyone. Russell scoffs and storms off, muttering under his breath. People hummed and walked away as the dramatic flare fizzled away, their attention drawn elsewhere. You nod successfully at not creating a whole scene.

You collect your things to get ready to head back home to sleep in until probably noon when you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder.

“Hey,” Mingi says softly. His voice is deep and rough but his words are light and tender. “Thanks for being so relaxed and taking that maturely,” he smiles and you give him a reassuring nod.

“No problem,” you hike your purse over your shoulder. “Maybe I'll see you around,” you wave to him and begin to walk off but he calls out your name as he runs up to you.

“Wait! I didn't catch your name,” he rushes up to you and you giggle.

“Y/N,” you reply and extend a hand for him to shake. He shakes your hand through his thick gloves.

“Y/N, are you walking home?” He asks softly and you nod.

“I always do,” you reassure him and begin to walk away again.

“Wait, what if I gave you a ride?” Mingis comment made you stop in your tracks. You turn to look at him and he's looking back at you with puppy eyes. “It's dangerous for such a pretty girl to be walking home by herself at this hour,” he explains and you sigh, agreeing with him.

“Alright,” you agreed and started walking with him to his car. “But how do I know I'm safe with you?” You ask even though you've already agreed to go with him. Mingi chuckles as he opens the passenger door for you.

“Ladies first,” he cooes. He holds the door open and leans down to your level, his upper arm pressed against the top of the door. The other hand is on the outside rim of the opening to the car. “And if you didn't trust me, why would you get in? Sitting right in your little princess throne,” he smiles before closing the door. You blush at his comment. Thinking to yourself about his words as he comes around to the other side of the car, opening the car door he hauls himself into it. “Besides, you saved my neck back there why would I do anything but repay you?” He smirks before twisting the key in its respective place. His ungloved hand flexing all the veins and rings on it as he turns the car on. He pulls off his goggles and he hands them to you. “Can you put these in the dash for me princess?”

You take the goggles and pop open the dash, sticking them in. You close it up again and watch as he takes off the other glove, tossing it in the little compartment between your two seats. You look around the fancy car, looking at all the illuminated buttons. He chuckles to himself as he watches you admire his treasure. “You ever been in a race car?” He tilts his head before putting his foot on the gas.

“Well any car can be a race car if you go fast enough,” you chuckle and he laughs at your comment. “But no, I haven't,” you continue to look around as he drives. You then realize he's going the opposite way from your house. “Mingi, m-my house is that way,” you point your thumb behind you and Mingi hums.

“I know,” he replies and you side eye him, looking him up and down. “I'm buying you a treat. Do you like ice cream? McDonald's?”

You're taken aback by his question.

“I guess, ice cream?” You look confused and he nods. He then runs a red light and you turn around, watching the street light pass. “You just ran a red light,” you frown at him.

“Oops,” he shrugs.

“There were people there, you know?” You cross your arms and Mingi just shrugs again.

“And they were driving slow. It would've taken a hundred years for them to get close to me,” he says before pulling into a gas station. He parks his car by the main part of the gas station, near the windows. He takes out the keys and rushes over to open the door for you. You giggle at his chivalry.

“Chivalry never dies. Even in delinquents,” you chuckle and Mingi laughs.

“I'm not a delinquent,” he comments as he holds the gas station door open for you.

“Meh, you're close,” you say as you walk into the gas station, your hair brushing past Mingi, leaving your scent lingering near him. The smell brings butterflies to his stomach.

“I disagree,” he retorts as he catches up to you looking at the freezer of ice creams. “What are you thinking,” he goes to bring his hand up to your back but he hesitates. He bites his lip as he thinks hard, his brows furrowing. He puts his hand down with a quiet sigh and you turn to him with a Creamsicle in hand. You see his frown and wavering eyes.

“You okay?” You turn your head slightly and he snaps out of his thoughts.

“Oh yeah, all good,” he nods and looks at your icy treat. “You want this?” He asks and you nod. He nods back and opens the freezer going to search for what he wants. An ice cream dipped in chocolate. He guides you over to the cash where a tired middle aged man rings you up.

“Is that everything,” he speaks lifelessly as the other cashier peers over the corner.

“Yup,” Mingi nods and you inch closer to him. The other cashier winks at you with an encouraging thumbs up. You smile softly and gently wrap your hand around Mingis. Mingi looks surprised but brushes it off, acting like nothing happened. As he tapped his card in the machine his face turned a soft pink. He gave you your ice cream treat and the two of you walked back out of the gas station, fingers loosely intertwined. You were in front of him so you opened the door for yourself, holding it open for Mingi this time.

He laughed at your action before walking over to his car. He unlocked it and it beeped softly, but it wasn't the usual car sound, it was fancier.

“Whoa, cool,” you murmur and Mingi chuckles. The two of you hop into his car and he opens his ice cream, using one hand to drive off afterwards. As he drives he tells you what certain buttons do and lets you press them, experimenting with his car. He loves seeing your curiosity as you press the buttons. He then pulls up to a parking lot near a park, a river in the view. He sits with you as you eat your ice cream. He looks over at you, seeing the way your lips hug around the ice cream, his mind traveling. His face reddens and he turns to look out the window, shifting in his position. “Everything alright?” You ask softly as you notice Mingis body tense up.

“Yup!” He turned to you with a smile and you chuckled.

“So why did you bring me out here?” You ask softly and he looks down, feeling almost ashamed.

“I just…” he bites his lip. “I wanted to get to know you. Just hang out a bit, until you finish your ice cream then I promise I'll bring you home,” he looks at you with guilty eyes. You knew why he was doing this now, he needed you but couldn't say it.

[ssivinee]

✧Wounded Heart✧

Part 1 | Part 2

BEBE! Bada Lee x F Reader: You've always been known as the smartest student in school, while Bada was known as the campus heartthrob and player. She decides to take advantage of her situation, but puts your heart on the line along with her passing grade.

Word Count: 9.2k

TW: Slight self harm

Note: This is the longest fic I've written so far😮‍💨. I felt so evil writing this, but I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY THE ANGST😈. ALSO, please check out my new rule. If not, it just warns blogs with no pfps and reblogs. I have a high chance of soft-blocking you, as I may get shadowbanned bc Tumblr can't defer you from bots.

Character Vision Board

You were never one to gain any attention from anyone. Frankly, you liked it that way.

Known as the most reserved yet nerdiest student in school, you were never called by your name. How could anyone put a name to your face when no one knew what it was. People had only given you the title of top student in university.

Most people knew of your existence, but by always wearing your oversized hoodie over your head, glasses, and mask, you kept your identity a secret amongst your peers. You survived high school like this, so being in your final year of university and still being able to maintain it was a breeze.

It was a regular Monday morning, and you sat in the library before classes, trying to freshen up on your Physics lesson yesterday. You woke up at 6 a.m. to get ready, showered, and ate breakfast with an energy drink before heading out to the library. That was your daily routine, the loner lifestyle, if you will.

As you typed away on your computer, the buzz of other students started coming in waves at 9 a.m., hitting the clock. That meant it was time to head to your first class. After multiple hours of classes, hand-cramping notes, and sitting in the back of every subject, you headed to your favorite class, computer science. For some reason, your brain was highly advanced in this area, making it enjoyable.

30 minutes go by, and just sitting in the back of the class, a tall, nonchalant figure walks in. You visibly see your teacher's face contort as she rolls her eyes at the student. The notorious Bada Lee came in late once again. You believed she began to do it on purpose at this point, as she stopped giving excuses for her tardiness by the second week.

The thought certainly loitered in the back of your mind. You never understood why Bada was the way she was. This was one of the few classes with several options, so if you wanted to avoid taking it, you had multiple other choices. Yet, even being late every day, she showed up and did the work.

Maybe not to the best of her abilities, but she still did it.

There were a few things to note about Bada. She was captain of the school's basketball team and had a distasting reputation. The campus player and heartbreaker. It felt as though, every week, there was new drama surrounding a girl whose heart got broken by the tall student, and it always made you want to roll your eyes every single time. Never understanding why these girls chased and chased, even when knowing their situationships wouldn't be the way it was from their fantasies.

Nearing the end of the class, everyone was getting ready to leave, but the Professor stopped anyone from going further. "Before you leave, I want to discuss the upcoming midterm project."

She pulls up the presentation on the board and explains, "This project requires you to make an updated website for the school. The requirements will be posted online by the end of the day, and I will assign you a partner for this. The highest grade will have their website be used as the new official website for our school. This will be due a month from now."

Everyone becomes surprised and happy at the prize for their upcoming trials. Your professor begins to list the names, and she gets to you, "Baek Y/n... and Bada Lee." Your heart sank instantly at those words.

You grumble with your head down. Out of all the people in the class, you got stuck with the one who'd rather mess with a girl at any chance she had. 

Bada sits in her seat, brows furrowed. Who the fuck was Baek Y/n?

Bada knew almost everyone, but she'd never heard of that name. That's when the Professor lets everyone go, and she sees a girl walk up to the teacher. You wore the gigantic hoodie, and Bada couldn't see your face, but with all the gestures you gave your teacher, you seemed like you weren't pleased about something. When she hears you huff in annoyance, and your eyes meet hers while leaving, she sees anger bubbling behind them. 

Bada gets up, confused, and heads over to the teacher. "Professor Min, who was that?"

"That was your partner Baek Y/n. You've heard of the top student before, right?" Her eyes double at the older man's words, and her face becomes extremely happy. She would undoubtedly be using this to her advantage.

"Now, don't think of trying to get the girl to do all the work, Bada. I'm allowing you to bring up your grade with this project." She nods furiously before heading out to tell her friends the news.

She sees them over at their school's common room, and her friends, Aiki, Noze, Lee Jung, and Emma, give her weird looks like Bada grew three heads. "Now, why is she cheesing now?" Aiki asks, and the taller girl replies with a smack to her arm.

"You guys won't believe who my partner is for my computer science project."

The four girls looked at each other and began naming several popular girls. Bada rolls her eyes at her friend's antics. "Well, you wanna tell us? We named like half the girls already." Noze says.

"Baek Y/n."

...

"Baek, who now?" Lee Jung looks at her in amusement, but your title shocks them, "Top Student." Their eyes grow wide. The group looked around the room to see if they could find you. "Her name is Baek Y/n?" Emma confirms, "She's in my class, so I'm pretty sure that's her name."

"Well, if you don't ace that project, she must hate you." Lee Jung jokes, making Bada think, "Truth be told, she didn't seem too happy about being my partner either."

"We wouldn't be happy either." "Can't blame her."

They kid around, but Aiki tells the girl, "You better stay on her good side. I'm sure if you don't do the work, she'll find a way to ensure you don't have a shared grade." "True, she's always been partnered with smarter kids, so she's never had an issue, but knowing you? You’re gonna need to play nice girl this time, Bada."

Bada scoffs at Emma's words, "She'll do the work by herself whether she likes it or not. Besides, I'm on everyone's good side." She shows a cocky grin, but Emma and Lee Jung specifically can't help but doubt her. "I don't know about this one. Doesn't seem like an easy girl to get through."

"Nah, have some faith in our girl," Noze says, patting Bada's hip. "Wanna bet on it?" Bada says, with pure confidence backing her up. "I get her to fall for me, and you owe me a month of doing all my assignments." Lee Jung smirks at the girl, "Deal."

"So when are you gonna start?" Noze asks as she eats her chips. "Not sure. Definitely not tonight, though. I'm seeing Redy after practice." All her friends roll their eyes at the girl's name, finding her ignorance ever so bothersome.

The next morning, you find yourself in the same spot as usual and have begun the project already. Bada finds herself looking for you on campus and figures, where do all nerds hang out? 

The library.

She makes her way over, and as she enters, she automatically finds you in the corner of the large hall. "Hey there, partner," She greets, and you look at her dead in the eyes, "What are you doing here?" Your tone ached in annoyance.

"Come on, don't be like that. I want actually to try on this project."

"Fine. Let me ask you this first. Why are you even in computer science?" You were straightforward, your serious demeanor never fading. Bada is surprised by your daring question but never trembles, "I just thought it would be interesting." An irked scoff is heard from behind your mask, "Yeah, right," was said with an eye roll. Well, this is gonna be harder than she thought.

"I'm being serious. I wanna earn the grade as well." She whines slightly, and your eyes cry disgust. "Give me your number, and we can work on the project at my house after basketball practice." You grumble and slouch in your chair, and Bada, unconsciously,  finds the position adorable as your oversized hoodie collapses on your body, "Sure," is all you mumble, not wanting any more trouble than there already was.

Bada grins as you write your information down on a purple post-it note and shows her excitement when you hand it over to her. You sat there as she left the library, wondering what she had planned for you. It wasn't like Bada to talk to nobodies to "do work." Yet the sooner you had this project done, the better you took her words with a grain of salt, hoping she was being at least a little truthful with her words.

You weren’t one to trust many people’s words, particularly from individuals like Bada, but you knew it had to be done for the sake of your grade. A hefty sigh leaves your body, and you try to go about your day without going too deep into it. During your last period, you feel your phone buzz and read an unexpected message.

Bada Meet me after practice at 5 PM at the gym. I’ll give you a ride so we can work on the project.

The recurring disdain takes over your face again as you read. You hate that you even had contact with the girl, so you just leave her on read as you remind yourself about the meeting. You would just have to wait for her, deciding to go to the school's garden as you let time pass. On the other end of campus, Bada stares at her phone in dismay, “Did she just leave me on read?” She mumbles to herself, and her fellow co-captain hears the uncommon words from the latter’s mouth. “Someone leaving the queen Bada on read? You don’t hear that every day,” Haechi tells the girl, and Bada sneers at the comment. “She’s just playing hard to get for now. Trust, she’ll fall for me by the end of the week.”

“Who is it anyways?” Haechi questions. “Baek Y/n,” she simply states, and the other’s eyes widen. “Like top student Baek Y/n?” Bada looks at her in confusion, “You know her?”

The latter shrugs, “We went to the same high school. She’s a sweet girl,” she adds, and Bada’s curiosity grows. “Sweet? Do you even know what she looks like?” “Nope, but if you care about your grades, she’ll notice and help you, even if you're struggling.” 

Haechi was one of the few popular students in university who focused on her grades, so her statement wasn’t so out of the blue. “Know anything else about her?” Haechi briefly considers the inquiry, “She really likes energy drinks, from what I remember. She always drank the blue Monster cans.” But there was a slight hesitation in the co-captin’s voice.

“I know how you are, Bada, so I’m aware I can’t stop you from your plans, but try not to do too much damage to the girl. She’s too precious to be broken by someone like you,” Haechi tells her, and despite the brutal words, Bada doesn’t take it to heart, almost shoving it out of her mind.

“Don’t worry. I won’t.”

The practice continues for hours before Bada notices your small figure sitting on the bleachers, waiting for the little time left. She jogs her way over to you with a bashful smile, “Hey, let me just change, and we can head out.” You just nod, wanting to get out fast, but Haechi’s familiar face has your eyes smiling. “Y/n-nie! Long time no see,” she opens her arms, and you gladly hop down to hug her. Bada watched the interaction, not knowing how to react to this side of you. You looked overjoyed to see the girl, and she may not be able to see your face, but the new energy made her feel a sense of loss.

She didn’t understand why you favored Haechi but not her. They were both tall, popular basketball team captains and had similar recognition in school. The only thing Haechi had over Bada was her straight A’s in classes. Was that the thing that would get you to like her? Bada grumbled at the concept. She wasn’t failing or anything, or else she couldn’t play on the team, but ALL her grades were not close to par with Haechi’s, not even a little bit. When her attention returns to the two of you, she sees you handing a new water bottle to Heachi, who thanks you. “You two seem close,” she tells them, and her co-captain looks at you almost with cherishing eyes. “Y/n’s the best man. Helped me a lot throughout high school,” you wave your hands in denial. “Heachi, you did your best in high school with or without my help. You’re hard-working,” your voice appears in a softer tone. Bada wanted to roll her eyes hard, but she left you two to change.

Bada wasn’t jealous, but maybe being narked was the better way to express her feelings. The girl was the type of person to feel better and superior to everyone else, so the fact that Haechi was already on your good side had her deep in her cycling thoughts. She needed to work hard to get this version of you, and not just with the project.

When she finishes, she tells you to go with her, and you hug Haechi before leaving the court and going to the parking lot with Bada. As she drove, she tried to make some conversation. “You started the project, right?” “Yeah.”

“You might have to teach me a few things so I can actually help.” “Sure.”

“You like computer science?” “Yup.”

That. That was the substance you gave Bada after every question. It made her want to jump out of the moving car, her ego bruised by your one-word replies. She stops trying after 10 minutes, letting the silence overwhelm you two, and you couldn’t have been any happier with the lack of sound. The car pulls up to this large mansion, and you try to hide your awe. This house was huge. Probably being able to hold the capacity of 200 students. “Come on in,” she invites with the large open door. 

When you entered, your eyes marveled at the marble architecture, the classical aesthetic being the prominent feature of the house. Bada then leads you to the living room, where you sit timidly on her couch. “Do you want anything to drink?” She asks you as your eyes still wander the house. “Um, I’m ok.”

“Well, let me just change before we start,” you nod, taking out your laptop and notebook, trying to get a bit comfortable for your peace of mind. You pull up the empty website domain with only your school's colors and a sleek banner that takes up a decent amount of the screen. After 10 minutes, Bada returns with gray basketball shorts and a tight wife beater as her top. Your eyes go up and down her figure before focusing on the monitor.

You were honest, and as much as you didn’t understand Bada’s playgirl mentality, you did understand her appeal to the female population in school. Her tall figure, the varieties of colors she’d use on her long hair that cascaded all the way down to her waist, and the hats she wore to hold a sense of mystery were the perfect formula for the way to a girl’s heart.

“So what should I do?” Bada says, sitting beside you, which had you scoot in the opposite direction. “We can split the parts. Professor Min already put up the criteria for the website. I can do the harder stuff like navigation, school history, subjects, majors, and minors.” You tell her as you view the recent handout your professor had put up. “That’s too much, no? All I’d have left is the decorating, department information, and help desk information. Why don’t I help you with the major and minors?” You look at her with bewildered eyes, “You sure? A lot of coding and linking goes into that?” The taller one nods confidently, “You just have to teach me, and I’m sure I’ll be able to do it.” You nod with some hesitation.

“How about we start brainstorming the website's theme, and we can start with the project next week?”

“Sure, but why next week? My practices always end at 5-6 PM, so we should have time.” You shake your head, “it’s not because of you. I'm just gonna be busy with the school council this week.” And Bada looks at you in surprise, “Your part of the school council?”

“Yeah, but I’m just the secretary. Since the sports events are around the corner, I have to oversee everybody and their work,” you explain. Bada feels the admiration brewing inside her. She was aware of your hardworking nature, well, everyone was. You were the top student for a reason, but this put you on a different playing field. On top of your multiple studies, you did your due diligence as a prominent figure on their school council.

“Well, why aren’t you the president?” You scoffed, following a pity laugh, “Bada, I can’t lead anyone to save my life.” She stares at you, not understanding your point, and you take notice. “I might be smart, but that doesn’t mean I have leadership skills.”

“Maybe I can help you,” the tall girl shrugs. She thought she was a good captain for her team, so with that credit, she could give you pointers. “It’s fine. I like my position. I get to help everyone.” The two of you let the time pass as you continued to work on the project before ending the night.

The next few days, you had a lot on your plate. You were running around the school, ensuring all the projects and events were being set up properly, writing reports, and then reporting to the president and vice president about overseeing.

During this time, Bada rarely saw you in class, and she thought about how busy you’d be. You weren’t lying, huh.

But on a Thursday afternoon, you watched the gym setup and saw Bada’s little group chilling on the bleachers. Another student, Doyoung, walks in with papers stacked in his hands. It was all the papers you needed to sign and read through, but a basketball flew in his direction before he could reach you. His head throbs as he drops the papers, and you see Bada’s groupies laughing as Bada yells, “Sorry, Do-ah, the ball slipped out my hands,” she says as she collects the ball and returns to the bleachers. You ran over to the boy, helping him get the papers and helping him up. “Doyoung? Are you okay?” You help the boy up, and he stares at you, dizziness coating his face. You glare at Bada, who catches a glimpse of your raging eyes, and she realizes her fuck up in an instant.

“Come on, let me take you to the nurse,” you say as you grab his arm, wrapping it around your shoulders. “Shit,” Bada says as she watches the two of you leave, you having the stacks of heavy paper sticking out of your bag. “Looks like your timing is off this time,” Noze teases, and Bada thinks she has to make it up to you. She ran out of the gym, trying to catch up to you. She found you settling Doyoung on the nurse's bench as you explained what happened, and to avoid punishment, she waited for you to leave the office before she could talk to you.

Walking out, you make eye contact with the basketball player and scoff at the sight. You tried to walk past her, but she stopped you, pulling your arm, “Y/n, wait.” You rip your arm away, feeling grossed out by her touch. “Did you feel cool?” You bluntly ask, and Bada is taken aback at your tone. “No, that’s not it-”

“Then what is it, Bada? It doesn’t take much to be nice, but it sure does take a lot of energy to be as rude as you.” The disappointment felt like knives to Bada’s heart. It felt like the same judgment she got from her parents, and now you were saying it to her? It made her want to suffocate six feet under. “I just wanted to be funny. I didn’t mean to hurt him. I’m sorry,” she mumbles as her head hangs low. “That apology shouldn’t be for me, asshole. Apologize to Doyoung,” you tell her, leaving her where she stands as you are still much to do. “Doyoung-ah, just text me later when you get home,” the younger boy nods, and you return to your busy day.

“Dude, I apologized to Doyoung yesterday, and she still hasn’t texted me anything about the project,” Bada tells her friends as she paced back and forth. “I don’t see what the big deal is,” Aiki says, and Bada looks at her in distress. “It’s a big deal 'cause I need that A to play in that prelims.”

“Maybe give her something to make it up to her?” Lee Jung suggests that Bada’s eyes grow at her words, remembering Haechi’s words. “The blue Monster,” she gasps, and her friends look at her weirdly as she runs off campus. Bada went to the convenience store, buying a can of Monster energy drink, some cookies, and an egg sandwich. It was early morning, so she knew she’d find you in the library at your usual spot.

Instead of being on your laptop this time, your eyes never left the papers you read and signed. Not even noticing her presence, Bada drops the bag lightly on the desk and pushes it in your direction. You look up, see the girl’s sorry face, and check the inside of the bag. “What’s this?”

“My apology to you for being a dick. I also apologized to Doyoung yesterday, so I’m in the clear.” You roll your eyes and sigh heavily, “Why are you like this, Bada?” Now she was confused, “What do you mean?”

“You're capable of being nice to people like me, so why can’t you do it to others?” Because other people won't help my grade, Bada thought. “I’m not sure,” Bada acts, trying to look ashamed. “But I know I’ll try my best to change,” she says, that confident smile taking place on her face again. 

So, during the next few weeks, you worked with Bada. She did her best to show you the better version of herself. Yes, she was acting initially, but as time passed, she got comfortable with the routines. She attended classes earlier, paid attention, participated, and even studied. The week after the altercation, Bada had asked you to tutor her in certain subjects, and you gladly accepted, liking the direction of her change.

So, the two of you sat in her home on a Friday afternoon after school, and you were working on your chemistry assignments. You had become comfortable in the setting after working at her home a few times. “Y/n-ah, help me with this long-ass formula. It's confusing.” You giggle at the pout on her lips and check the screen. “The prefix is hepta- and check out the periodic table for the names.” You point to the table of chemical symbols, and Bada begins to understand the list of prefixes on the coffee table.

You continued your work and studied the current topic you guys were on. Bada looked at you, wondering, “I hope this doesn't make you uncomfortable, but why do you always wear a mask?” You pause, not expecting the surprise question. “It just makes school go by faster. Drama-free too,” you express, and Bada rolls her eyes. “But it’s just you and I here.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that it makes my life easy,” you state. “Look, tomorrow, when you come over for the project, come without the mask, please?” You look at her in confusion, wondering why she was pressing on so much. But seeing her giving you puppy eyes, you reluctantly agreed, “Fine.”

“Great! Now help me with this question, please?” You laugh at her struggle.

The next day, you woke up to prepare for the long day. You took a shower, did your everyday skincare, and ensured you looked presentable. You were much more alert about your looks when you didn't wear the mask. You wanted to feel confident and ensured you did when applying the lip oil and putting your hair in a high ponytail.

You took an Uber to Bada’s place and rang the doorbell. When Bada opens the door, she takes in your appearance. You were out of your uniform for once, and the hairstyle displayed your small face clearly. Bada looks at you fondly, not expecting such a pretty girl to hide behind the mask daily. Even with the glasses on, your eyes looked large, and your heart-shaped lips colored bright pink. The tall girl couldn’t pull her eyes away from your lips. They looked too juicy not to kiss.

“Are you gonna let me in, or should I just stay out here?” Bada shakes her thoughts away and moves to the side. “So you were hiding this the entire time?” She asks as she pats your head, and you swat her hand away. “You practically begged for this.”

“And I’m not complaining,” She continues, staring at you, “go to school like this man.” “Okay, it was one thing asking me to come to your house like this, but school? Never happening.” You tell her, settling your bag down on the couch. “Wait, we should work in my room today. My parents are gonna be home today.” 

She leads you into her room, the cool gray walls blinding your eyes. You observe your surroundings, surprised to see the clean room. She puts your bag on the office chair and lets you sit on her bed. You began to talk about what you’ve done on the project, but as you talked, Bada wasn’t even concerned about your words, focusing on your body more. Your outfit made Bada want to have you moaning underneath her, chest rising up and down as you begged for more.

“Bada?” You check on her worryingly. “Yes?” She whispers, still not staring at your face. “Have you done the majors and minors?” “I finished the majors, but I’m still working on the minors,” she tells you, clearly still entranced. “Can you show me?”

“Oh, um, yeah,” She shakes her head and takes her laptop out, showing the work she had completed, and you were visibly pleased with the progress. “This is actually really good. Nice job,” your validation had her heart swelling as your grin held a tint of pride. “Maybe you can finish up the minors today? Just so your work goes by faster.” She nods and checks out all the work you’ve done as well. “You finished all of these? That fast?” She stares at the screen, astonished by the amount of stuff you did the past two weeks. “Anything that needs to be done on a computer, I can do in a quick flash,” you joke, but it holds some sincerity. “I’m trying to be like you, girl,” She comments, and you laugh.

“Let’s do this so we don’t have much left to do next week.” With those words, the two of you worked the entire day. By the next time you checked the time, you realized the hours passed quickly. “Damn, it’s already 4 PM?” This also makes Bada check her phone, “Oh, your right. You want something to eat?” “I wouldn’t mind that actually.”

The two of you enter her kitchen, and Bada heated up some leftover Chinese food she had left in the fridge. Once you guys were eating, Bada tried to get to know you more, finding your presence comforting. “So, Y/n, why do you work so hard in school?” Your mind malfunctions at the question, unsure if you should be honest with the girl. “Um~,” you start, slowly picking at your food. “It’s mainly for my mom. My dad left us for his other family when I was five, and she raised me all by herself. This is the only way to give her a good life after everything she has gone through.” Your voice said with a hint of sadness, and Bada watched your pretty face fall. You wiped away the slight tears that formed. “You’re a good person, Y/n. Never forget that,” She tells you, and you find your heart racing at the words. Bada never had this effect on you, but her words of encouragement made your day.

She was about to continue the conversation, but another tall, more mature woman walked in the room, eyes looking cautiously at the sight of you. “Bada,” she called your partner's name, and you look surprised at Bada’s figure. She straightened herself up, fixing her appearance slightly. “Mother.”

“Who is this?” The older woman’s hand points over in your direction, and before Bada can answer, you decide to try and please the stern woman. “My name is Baek Y/n mam. I’m Bada’s partner for our computer science project. It’s nice to meet you.” You bow at the woman, and her eyebrows raise at your politeness. “Good manners, proper style, pretty face, excellent speaker,” her mom states, as her gaze moves around your body. “You should be more like this, Bada.”

“Mom, not in front of her, please,” Bada’s voice goes small, and you regret speaking up. “What? It’s true. Instead of basketball, you should be a model student. I should thank your teacher for partnering you up with this young woman.”

“I don’t know how we failed to raise you. This is how you should’ve turned out,” The older woman goes to your side, using her two hands to present you as if you were a presentation. Bada’s feelings were in a whirlwind. She wasn’t sure if she could be mad at you, her mom, or just the world. Her mom wasn’t even wrong. You were perfect in every way, and she was the disappointment. Two different worlds were crossing paths, and she was beginning to wish she was partnered with another individual instead of you.

Your eyes grow at her mother’s harsh words, and you shake your head, moving away from the woman. She wasn’t even aware of Bada’s new changes and efforts the last few days, but she belittled her daughter.  “Madam, with all due respect-”

“Y/n. Don’t,” The tall girl tells you, with a stern voice, her breathing going shaky. “You right, mother. I’ll do better,” Bada says, head hanging low as she walks past the two of you. “What a dramatic girl,” You hear her mom telling herself, and you do your best not to ridicule the woman. “I’ll go check up on her,” you bow and run up to Bada’s room, finding the door shut. When entering, her back was turned to you as she sat on the edge of her bed. You were about to reach out on her shoulder but halted when you heard the sniffles as they gradually grew heart-wrenching. You rush to Bada’s side without any reluctance, pulling her into a hug. The warmth engulfing Bada had her break down instantly, never having anyone hold her as you did. Your eyes teared up at the sounds of her hyperventilating, her grip on your shoulder becoming tighter. 

You then thought this was such a common occurrence for Bada. She put up this facade in school, wanting the attention of other women, and finally understood where it all stemmed from. Bada just wanted to feel loved and longed for, but with a household like this, it felt so hard to even ask for. She shouldn’t even have to ask. It was her mother, after all.

“Bada, you’re doing your best. Don’t let your mom’s words take that away from you.” You whisper as you rub her back, “If you ever want to talk, you can always talk to me.”

Bada begins to calm down at your words, the shakiness in her voice fading away. “Thank you, Y/n-ah.” She whispers, leaving her head on your shoulders. She wavers and asks, “Can you come to my game on Friday?” 

“Of course. I’ll be your personal cheerleader,” you quip, in a shot to make her feel better, which works when a cheesing smile forms on her face. “You’d only cheer for me?” “Maybe for Haechi as well,” you tease, and she hits your arm with a pout. “Okay, ouch. I’ll cheer for you only, damn. No need to get violent on me.” Bada laughs at your words. 

You try to stray from the topic, but you can’t help but ask, “Does she talk to you that way all the time?” Bada sighs, “Yeah, basically every time she’s home.” The lightbulb in your head flickers when she says, “My house may not be as extravagant as yours, but how about we work on the project on my house on Tuesday? I’ll send you my address, and you can come over after practice,” Bada’s eyes shined at the proposal. “I’d be honored.”

So the following Tuesday, you come home and relax on your bed before deciding to take a shower, feeling the stickiness of your sweat getting to you. You changed into a large baby pink shirt and some pajama shorts. Deciding to get a head start, you started your other assignments before Bada could get there. You worked on your easy English paper as you waited for the time to pass and heard the doorbell. Your eyes checked the time, and seeing 6 PM, you already knew who it was. You open the door to find Bada changed into gray sweatpants, an oversized hoodie, and one of her iconic hats covering her head. “Well, Miss Bada, welcome to my humble abode,” you say, welcoming her in. Bada’s eyes roam around, taking in the simplicity of the house, finding it shocking as she took a liking to it. “It feels… homey,” She mumbles, and you pat her shoulder. “I have more space in my room. Let’s work there.”

Bada’s eyes wander to your exposed thighs when going up the stairs. They looked so thick and plump. Bada, never realizing the build of your body, wanted to grip your thighs until they were turning red. Once you let her into your sacred space, Bada sees the tiny potted plants you kept, shelves full of books, your desk looking organized, and your twin-sized bed and pillows wrapped in a light purple set. 

“So I have the navigation and research of the school's history. I might leave that research for next week to work on other subjects today.” Bada nods, settling on your bed and opening her laptop, “What other assignments do you have to do?”

“I’m trying to finish my English paper and then study for next week’s Chemistry exam.” “CHEM EXAM?” Bada yells, startling you into a jump. “Yes, Bada, chemistry exam.” Bada rubs the back of her neck, “Can you help me study?” You smile at her, “Of course.” The two of you finished the topics you agreed to do today, and Bada explained that she only had the decorating left. “Y/n?” You hear a voice coming from downstairs, and you smile, “Yes, mom?”

“Did you and your friend eat yet?” Bada is bewildered at the foreign voice. Your mom knew she was here? “We haven’t yet!” You voice out as you put your hair up in a messy bun. “Come down and eat. I made some mandu and kimchi jiigae,” Bada’s eyes brightened at the names of the food. You giggle at her face and pull her into the kitchen with you. Bada makes eye contact with your mom, and the woman gasps. “Y/n, you didn’t tell me how beautiful your friend was.”

“Mom, stop~,” you whine as you give her a welcoming hug. Bada smiles at your relationship with your mom. It is the exact opposite of what she was used to. “Let me help you with setting up the table?” Your mom handed you the plates and utensils, “get comfortable, Bada. You’re about to eat some of the best food ever,” You tell the tall girl, trying to tease your mom, who laughs at your comment. “Come on, sweaty, sit down,” Your mom tells the basketball player as she puts both dishes at the center of your table.

“How was school you two?” Bada almost chokes on her first bite of food as your mom asks, not used to the motherly love. “Oh dear, here, have some water, darling,” Your mom pours a glass as you pat Bada’s back. “I’m sorry. Um, school was alright, thank you for asking,” Bada says, mumbling, and you smile pityingly at your mom. “Same mom, nothing new.”

“That’s good!” She finishes, letting you all eat in peace. “Have you rested this past week, Y/n?” You grin at your mom’s question, “You know I try and stop doing work an hour before I go to bed, Mom.” “That doesn’t count.”

You sigh, “Don’t worry. I plan to go to Bada’s game on Friday, so I’ll take a break then.” Your mom gets excited, “Really? Good luck with your game. I hope you guys win!” Your mom was joyful, even with what had happened in the past, which made her your hero. “I hope we win too, Ms. Baek,” Bada gives an appreciating smile. “Oh, please call me mom. Any friend of Y/n can call me Mom. She rarely has any friends, so,” Your mom whispers her ending statement, and you roll your eyes at her. “Can we not expose Y/n? Thanks,” You say, pointing to yourself. The two smile at your gesture, and Bada teases you, “She’s not wrong.”

“Look at what you started, Mom!” 

After you ate and studied with Bada, it was already 9 PM as you walked her out of your house. “You’re mom is the sweetest person on Earth,” Bada says, a sense of peace taking over her as she held the bag of food your mom had packed for her. “I know,” you giggle, knowing how your mom was. She accepted everyone and anyone as long as they treated you and her kindly.

“Thank you, Y/n. You’ve been helping me so much recently, and I don’t know how to pay you back,” she says, bringing you into the tightest hug. Your chest pounded, feeling a new overwhelming feeling of emotions. You knew that you and Bada had become closer in the past few weeks, but now you blushed at her touch, making you nervous.

There was no way you were starting to like her, right? You believed Bada was changing for the better. She had stopped flirting with so many girls, focused more on school, and acted as a more proper captain for her team. That’s what you thought, at least.

It was Thursday morning, before Bada’s game, and she was chilling on her hour break with the rest of her friends. “How has the project been going?” Emma asks with genuine interest. “It’s actually really good,” She simply states, and her friends stare at each other, unsure of how to go about her answer. “You remember our deal, right?” Lee Jung asks the taller, reminding her of her words two weeks ago. “Of course, I do,” Bada’s words felt like a harsh smack to the face. Her statement simmered in her mind like she was lying to herself.

Bada knew she was changing, and whether she would like to admit it or not, the thought scared her. It was because of you and only you. She was never meant to go this deep or even this far with your friendship. She couldn’t help herself, though. She shared tears with you, personal issues her friends didn’t even know about, and even bonding with your own mother. Feeling like a brand new person, Bada felt liberated and accomplished. Lately, she thought she could stick up to her parents, defending herself from their judgmental words. Last night, during their family dinner, Bada’s mother and father had some words for her again. “Bada, your grades better be good this semester, or you’ll be sent to military school.” Her father tells her in an eerie, monotone voice. Bada looks at them, sensing betrayal. “Do you guys even love me?” “What kind of question is that?” Her mom gazes at the girl, the cold look never leaving her gaze. “You haven’t even noticed the effort I’ve been putting in the last few days. Everything I do is never enough for the both of you.” Bada’s parents were taken aback at their daughter's sudden outburst. “Maybe if you were putting this much energy before, we wouldn’t have to say anything to you,” her father points out. “It’s because of that Y/n girl. I should thank her for you.” Bada grumbles at the authority, not wanting to hear the same crap repeatedly. “I understand I may not have been the best child. Trust me, I know. But maybe if you two showed even the tiniest bit of compassion and love, I wouldn’t have turned out this way.” That statement had both her parents shut up, letting her words brew in their minds.

“Bada,” she hears your voice, pulling her out of her thoughts, and everyone looks at you. Your eyes looked at them weirdly as they looked surprised at your presence. “Are you free on Sunday? I have things to do on Saturday, but we can probably finish the project by the end of this week.” She smiles at you, “No problem, we only have a little to go anyways. It shouldn’t take that long.” 

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you wave off, and Bada’s friends sat there, frozen at the exchange. “That might be the first time I’ve ever heard her voice,” Aiki says, hypnotized by your sweet voice. “I might have to snatch her up from you, Bada.” Noze kids, but Bada looks at her with stone-cold eyes, “No.”

Her friends sit there, unknowingly triggering something inside the tall girl. “It was just a joke, Bada, chill.” Lee Jung tells her as she shakes her head.

Emma looks at her, eyes growing at the assumption, “Are you falling for the girl?” Bada instantly looks at her like she’s crazy, “I just want to finish this project before you guys try anything,” she says, saving herself. 

Being oblivious to Bada’s words, you were excited about her game tomorrow. Your outfit was planned. You had snacks and a Gatorade for Bada to drink during her match. Since Tuesday night, Bada had been running on your mind constantly, and you weren’t sure how to handle your feelings. It was the first time you were hardcore crushing on someone, and this project made it challenging to contain your emotions. Her presence, attention, and beauty had you fixated. Since this was a first for you, you wanted to slow it down, trying to navigate it as you went.

So when game day finally came, you wore your hair up in a sleek ponytail and wore an extra jersey that Bada had given you with the number 22. You paired it with some simple Air Forces and ripped baggy jeans. Keep up the mysterious facade. You had your black mask covering the lower half of your face. Everyone stared at you as you sat on the court, wondering what your relationship was with their school’s basketball captain. You only kept your eyes down, not enjoying the amount of attention you were getting. 

Bada comes out from the locker room in full uniform and her eyes find your body, and an unconscious smile takes over her face. You looked adorable in the oversized jersey, and Bada just wanted to run up and hug you, but the game was starting soon, and the team had to warm up. 

You space out, but the loud blaring of the alarm shocks you out of it. As a book-believing student, you weren’t familiar with the rules or how the sport worked, but Bada made it worthwhile. Bada was noticeably agile and had a massive amount of stamina compared to everyone on the court. As you watched and cheered after her every shot, a blonde girl noticed your attire. A scowl and a look of disgust replaced her cheers. You weren’t even aware of her, focusing on the tall girl the entire time.

When half-time took place, you handed Bada the drink you had prepared for her. Smiling at your gesture, she thanked you and sipped as their coach spoke to them. 

The game started again, and as the timer was hitting the last few seconds, the score stood at 86-87, the score slim to the tee. Your heart beats anxiously as you watch Bada maneuver through the court. Haechi had passed the ball to her co-captain, and at 5 seconds, Bada had taken her chance at a three-pointer, and everyone held their breath as the ball spun around the rim. So when the ball fell in at the last second, all your school's students jumped and cheered at the epic finale. Bada looks over at you again, seeing your proud eyes on her. She blew a kiss at you, and you giggled as she celebrated with her team.

“Hey,” you hear her voice and turn around to see her sweaty figure, as her cheesing grin never leaves her face. “Wait for me at the parking lot? I’ll give you a ride home.” She offers, and you nod, pulling down your mask, not wanting to hide your thrilled face. “You were amazing out there, Bada.” The sincerity of your voice made Bada weak to her knees, and she felt giddy inside. “Thanks. I’ll see you in a bit, okay?” You nod, leaving the gym to the parking lot, where you wait, sitting on a bench. When Bada watches you go, she feels the butterflies in her stomach and stands there terrified. The girl started falling for you, the feelings piling up since your first study session. This couldn’t be happening. Bada’s pride wouldn’t let it happen, so she had to do something about it fast.

20 minutes had passed, and Bada still hadn’t come out. Worrying began to fill your mind. You kept checking your phone every minute, and the same anxiety overtook you. You decided to look for her, which honestly didn’t take long. You turned the corner of your school's building. You saw two figures holding each other tightly as they enthusiastically made out with each other.

Due to the darkness of the night, you squinted at the sight, but as it became clear, your heart broke into a million pieces, feeling like it was now dust. It was Bada and another girl. They pull away from each other, breathing heavily, and you hide behind the corner you turned from. “What about that other girl?” The unfamiliar voice asks. “What other girl?” “The girl wearing your jersey?” You swallowed lightly, your chest becoming heavy in your current position. “She’s no one, baby. Don’t worry about it. She was just a little bet.” You hear her, and you sob in silence, walking away from the detrimental scene that just occurred right in front of you.

You sit at the curb, staring at the stars, and laugh at yourself, “You’re so stupid, Y/n. So stupid,” you mumble, the tears getting harder to contain as Bada’s words repeat in your mind. Of course, you were just a bet for her. You were just another girl added to her collection, and it made you fall into despair. She cried to you and opened up, yet you were just another girl. You hit your head lightly in frustration with yourself. “Y/n?”

You jolt up from your spot, wiping your staining tears away, and turn around to find Haechi, who looks at you worried. “You okay?” You nod with a deep breath and huff, “Yeah, just feeling down right now. No biggy,” you try saving yourself, but the cracks in your voice tell the girl otherwise. “What are you still doing here-” She was about to ask but realized what may have happened since she saw Bada walking out with some blonde student from her Physics class. Haechi’s face was now painted sorrowfully, engulfing you in a hug. Her touch had triggered the waterworks again, and you were now crying again, breaths getting weaker when each tear dropped. “I’m so fucking stupid, Haechi. I hate her. I hate her so much,” the tall girl rubs your back, letting you release your anger and sadness. “Don’t say that Y/n-nie, you’re the smartest girl in school. Bada is just… ruthless.” Haechi states, some rage hiding under her voice. She had warned Bada, and the captain still went against her word. “I’m like every other girl, Haechi.”

The tall girl pulls away, shaking her head furiously, “No. No, you’re not. Come on, let me take you home.” You nod, too tired to say anything and sit in Haechi’s car, taking a nap on the way home as you wasted so much energy.

Bada was now trying to look for you everywhere, not noticing how long she took, keeping you waiting.

Bada Y/n? Where are you?

She waited for a response, but it never came. She began to worry but let the win of her game control her mind. An hour later, she was home, and you just got back to her.

Y/n-ah😚 My mom wanted me to go home early. Sorry.

Bada sighed in relief. At least you were safe at home. She was about to respond, but you texted her again.

Y/n-ah😚 About the project, don’t worry about it. I’m finishing it tonight and sending it to Professor Min tomorrow morning.

The tall girl furrows her brows.

Bada Are you okay?

Y/n-ah😚 Splendid.

Safe to say, Bada was terrified at your one-word answers. She felt back at square one, but little did she know she wasn’t even close. Not anymore.

The next time Bada saw you, you were both in school, and she approached you with your favorite drink. “My payment for last week,” she says, handing the drink to you, and you dismiss the interaction instantly. “I’m good,” you tell her and just walk away. Bada stares at you in confusion and is about to go after you but sees you standing at Haechi’s locker. From afar, her co-captain seemingly handed you a blue Monster can, and you hug the girl, thankfully. The interaction had Bada bothered and angry. You took Haechi’s drink but not hers?

She would talk to you about it one way or another, but she couldn’t find you the entire day. The fact that you didn’t have computer science today didn’t help the matter. So Bada decided to talk to you at your house. The rain began to pour, but it wasn’t stopping her from finding out what was wrong. She rang the bell at your gate, unsure if you were home, but when you opened the door, a glimmer of hope sparked until you spoke. “Go home, Bada.”

“What?” “I said go home,” your monotone voice made her want to hide. “Y/n, talk to me, please?” “Why should I?” She looks at you in shock. “What happened?”

“You wanna know so bad?” You walk up to the gate, anger fueling your eyes. Not even caring about the pouring weather. “Somehow, me being the smartest girl in school means nothing when it comes to you.”

Bada didn’t say a word, not knowing where this conversation was going. “Congrats, Bada, you made the top student in school look like the most mindless person in the world.” Bada’s eyes widen, “what do you mean-”

“Oh, don’t act stupid.” You groan and look at her with eyes of disgust. Bada sunk into the thought. She was back to square one. “I seriously don’t understand-” “You don’t understand sucking off another girl’s face while I waited for you in the parking lot? God, when I thought there was progress in your thought process these past few weeks, but I guess I was wrong.”

That’s what froze Bada, her heart dropping at the statement. You saw and heard everything. Bada only wanted to beg for forgiveness right then and there, but she knew she had no right to. It's not like you were gonna accept it anyway. “Y/n I-”

“Just save it, Bada. You don’t have to explain yourself. I get it. I’m just another girl, right? Or what was it you told blondie? A bet?” Bada had no words to save herself, wanting the ground to swallow her whole in shame. “Forget about it, Bada, forget we were ever friends.” You left the conversation at that, slamming the front door behind you. That’s when you broke down. The crying just couldn’t stop, kneeling on the floor of your home as the dreadful silence filled your ears as you heard the heavy rain and thunder pouring outside the windows. For once, you hated the silence. 

The next day, Bada wanted to try and apologize again. She looked and looked, not finding you anywhere on campus. She then looks for her second-best bet and sees her standing with her friends. “Haechi!” Bada runs up to the girl as she waves her friends off. Her co-captains eyes held frustration, and it told Bada she also knew the situation. “Do you know where Y/n is?” “Why? So you can break her even more?” Bada knew to expect this, but she wasn’t expecting to be cornered by the girl who shoved her into the lockers.

“I fucking told you, Bada, but what Bada wants, Bada gets, right?” Haechi’s pointer finger drilled into her chest, and the captain winced in pain. “I-I wanna make it right.” “Too fucking late.”

Bada’s body ignores the pain at her words, “What do you mean?” Haechi looks at the girl whose eyes began to water slightly. “She’s leaving for the States. The school gave her an internship for 5 months.” Bada’s world crumbles, and she takes out her phone, sending you multiple messages.

Bada Y/n, I’m sorry. Please don’t go. It was a mistake. I was stupid. I was falling for you, and I was scared. Y/n?

Bada’s tears were uncontrollable as they fell, reading how her messages weren’t sending. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.” Bada was now beating herself up in the middle of the hallway. She was hitting her head hard with her fist, pulling her hair harshly, and everyone who saw looked at her in worry. Haechi was shocked at the girl’s actions, seeing how bad she genuinely felt. She did her best to pull Bada’s arms away, and Bada slid down to the floor, blubbering as Haechi did her best to stop the girl from hurting herself. “I’m so fucking stupid, Haechi.” Her teammate didn’t know how to respond, just holding Bada’s arms down as she cried her pain away.

A/n: SHIT IS INTESNE RN DAM.

Tag list: @chipswsauce @nimixe @yooqui @eeeetaetterswife @efyyylee @froufrousnowman @amararosesblog

[etherealising]

chapter twelve | a slow burn for me

masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣ |

pairing(s): carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: a peek into the beginning of an awkwardly domestic night between you and carmy.

warning(s): honestly none for this chapter, what a surprise.

wc: 6.4k (of filler someone get this girl an editor)

It was late. If the lack of light streaming through your office windows wasn’t enough of an indicator of the hour, the time on the small analog clock gifted to you by Nat and Pete was enough to force you to call it quits for the night. You did a quick check of the document staring back at you on your computer to make sure not only was it saved to the software you’d chosen to use, but also to the backup hard drive you’d learned to use over time.

The building was quiet as you tidied up your desk and powered down your appliances, your coworkers having cleared out hours ago. You could feel the exhaustion seeping into your bones, working overtime wasn’t on your agenda this morning but considering the two personal days you took after your emotionally demanding conversation with Carmy, it was no surprise the extra time was needed to catch up on all the work you missed out on. The hour wasn’t horrendous per se but watching the clock on your desk tick past 9:30 was all the excuse you needed to begin your journey home.

Your decision to return to the Tribune wasn’t as hard as you expected it to be. You were finally getting your life back on track, you were in a city you loved surrounded by the people you loved and cared about. If you needed to spend the next year avoiding and appearing indifferent to your boss, so be it you would figure things out as the days passed by. And maybe it wasn’t your most logical decision but you were sure within a year or two you might find another position, for now, though you just wanted to go home.

An exhausted sigh escaped into the dimly lit office as you began to gather your belongings of the day, eyes catching onto the pristine manila envelope that you remembered plucking out of your mailbox before driving to work. Ignoring the envelope you shrugged on your jacket before bending to grab your bag from one of your desk drawers quickly slipping your laptop and the unassuming envelope inside before double checking everything was exactly how you always left it.

The elevator ride to the ground floor was surprisingly relaxing considering how annoying the music playing through the speakers was. Exiting the metal box as it stopped you gave a cordial goodbye to the night guard on duty before exiting the building and speed walking to your car before the cool air could assault you any longer.

You were quick to start the car, allowing it to warm up as you turned on the heater and placed your hand in front of the air vents. The artificial warmth wafted through your car as you carefully plucked your phone out of your bag casually eyeing the envelope that you’d rather deliver sooner than later. A few minutes ticked by as you thought about the best course of action, scrolling through your contacts you quickly found Nat’s and pressed the call button hoping she’d be able to help you.

The phone didn’t ring for long before you heard Nat’s voice ring through. Your hopes that she wouldn’t answer didn’t have a foot to stand on knowing she always made time to answer your calls whether she was busy or not.

“Nat, hey I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” You could hear Pete’s voice in the background as Natalie sounded like she was maneuvering around.

“Baby, no you’re fine. Is everything okay? It's pretty late.” A small smile graced your lips at the slightly worrying tone in Nat’s voice.

“Yeah I’m fine, I uh...I was just hoping I could stop by real quick. I got the revised trademark paperwork in the mail today and was hoping to drop it off.”

The line was quiet for a moment as you awaited the woman’s response, part of you was sure the call had dropped but you could still hear her little noises through the phone.

“Nat? You still there?”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to drop it off with Carmen? He doesn’t live too far from where you are now.” You frowned knowing you hadn’t mentioned where you were during the conversation.

“I never said where I was Nat.”

“Oh, I know my love Pete checked your location.” Of course, you were on speaker, not that it annoyed you, whatever you divulged in this conversation with Natalie she’d be sure to gossip about it with Pete regardless if he could hear the conversation or not.

“Isn’t that like an abuse of trust? I shared my location for emergencies Nat.”

“Isn’t this an emergency? You’ve been avoiding Carmy since the night of my baby shower and as much as I love my brother Baby, I am sick of his moping.” You bit your lip suddenly realizing the truth behind Nat’s words, it hadn’t been your intention to avoid him but then you remembered the unanswered texts and the missed calls you had plenty of time to return but for some reason chose not to.

“Is he even home, feels a bit early doesn't it?”

“I’m sending you his address Baby. And I love you, but I am tired of this cycle between the two of you and trust me I know Carmy has his faults, I know the part he’s played in this relationship between you two. But aren’t you now doing exactly what you’ve been crucifying him for?” You could feel the indignation rising in your chest, the need to defend yourself coming in hot.

“I’m not excusing his actions Baby, but the two of you are adults and the fact that Carmy’s pulled his head out of his ass and is finally trying is a big step in whatever the hell is going on between you two.”

The sting of tears behind your eyes was the last thing you wanted to deal with right now. You hated when Natalie was right but you appreciated her perspective and the way she appeared unbiased. You took a deep breath trying to keep the tears at bay not wanting to cry once you began driving.

“I’m scared Nat.” It was quiet as she let you gather your thoughts. “Things have just been fucked up between us for so long that I’m not sure how to navigate a healthy relationship with him. And I…god I kind of hoped him finding out about everything would make him hate me and want nothing to do with me. But then he just accepted it and forgave me and now he’s checking in on me daily and sending me little anecdotes about his day and I’ve just been ignoring him hoping he’d finally just give up because Nat I just…I don’t know everything just feels too good to be true you know?”

You took a minute to even your breathing surprised by what you just admitted to Natalie, unaware that what you’d been feeling over the past few days could be put into words. You reached over to turn off your car, sure you wouldn’t be leaving this spot anytime soon, before laying your head against the headrest and allowing your eyes to flutter closed.

“Baby, you’re never going to be healthy if you continue self-sabotaging.” Nat gave you a minute before continuing. “I appreciate your candor but I don’t think I’m the person who needs to hear these things. Given Carm a chance, I know he’s a bit inexperienced in the relationship department but you both deserve a shot at whatever this dumpster fire of a relationship is.”

You let out a quiet laugh thanking Nat for her oh so kind words of wisdom. You checked the time on your phone as Natalie hung up, time wouldn’t stop just because you wanted it to. Your eyes were drawn to the incoming message from Natalie, a pin with Carmy’s address followed by a quick good luck text. You gave a tired smile at the combination of emojis before clicking on the pin and watching it load in the maps app, an easy 15-minute drive to his apartment complex.

Throwing the phone into the seat next to you, you quickly started the car forcing yourself to begin the journey before you had any more time to talk yourself out of showing up on Carmen’s doorstep unannounced.

This whole situation felt like deja vu. Here you were at Carmy’s doorstep uninvited once again, trying to work up the courage to just even knock on his door. A part of you hoped he wasn’t home to spare yourself from the apology you knew he deserved, but you also just wanted to clear things up between the two of you, finally get things out in the open, and hope the two of you could move forward in whatever way you both agreed upon.

You took one last deep breath before raising your hand to finally knock, cringing a bit at how hard the knocks must have come across. You waited a few seconds with no answer deciding to knock again, you were already here so all you could do was try.

Another series of knocks went unanswered, you couldn’t help the huff of laughter that escaped out of you at the parallels between this moment and your visit to Carmy’s New York apartment a year ago. You checked the time on your watch, deciding to call it a night and send Carmy a text when you returned home, hoping the two of you would be able to connect at a more decent time. Spinning around to return to your car you jumped on the spot, your hand moving to clutch the spot over your heart as it raced.

“Fuck Carmen! Why are you sneaking around?” You did your best to calm your breathing, surprised to find Carmy’s figure in front of you along with the fact that you hadn’t even heard his approach in the first place.

“I uh…I wasn’t.” He looked surprised to see you outside his door, slight confusion drifting through him as he tried to recall ever giving you his address.

The tension in the hallway leading to Carmy’s apartment was palpable, neither of you saying a word in hopes that the other would begin the conversation. An awkward smile curled your lips as Carmy’s eyes darted everywhere but your eyes. If anyone walked in on this scene of the two of you they’d be confused if you told them you’d known the man in front of you your whole life.

“I have-,”

“Would yo-,”

Awkward laughs left the both of you, your hand gesturing for Carmy to go first. He cleared his throat adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder, one hand digging into his pocket as he pulled out what could only be his keys.

“Would you uh, like to come in?” Carmy jingled the keys slightly to clarify as if his question wasn’t obvious enough.

You nodded, sending him a genuine smile, “Yes please if that’s okay with you.”

Carmy nodded clearing his throat as he shuffled past you, fingertips slightly grazing your waist in a move you both knew to be unnecessary but neither of you cared to comment on. You waited as he unlocked the door cautiously following behind him as he held the door open for you. A small nod of thanks was sent his way as you walked past eyes surveying what you could see of his apartment thus far.

Although the layout was different from his lodgings in New York, you got the same feeling you had when you entered that apartment a year ago. There was minuscule decoration hardly any to be exact but his presence could be felt as soon as you walked through the door a warmth that was incandescently Carmy radiated around you.

You felt heat at the small of your back as Carmy rounded on you walking past the board in the middle of his living room as he made his way towards the kitchen.

“Are you hungry? Have you eaten yet?” You watched as he rummaged through his fridge in search of something as you continued to look around his abode.

“Actually I-,” Carmy cut you off with a quiet curse under his breath, his figure quickly moving towards you before stopping in front of you. Confusion washed over your features as he carefully removed your purse out of your hands gently setting it on his coffee table and returning to you. You watched as he reached for your arm, hands tugging the sleeve of your jacket off before walking around you and removing it fully, the domesticity of the moment sent a shiver up your spine.

“I uh..I’m out of groceries but I’ll run and go get us some take out yeah?” He still wasn’t looking at you as he spoke whatever was going on in his mind keeping him occupied.

“Carmen I-,” You stopped upon seeing his sporadic unfocused gaze.

“Stay please?” Carmy’s eyes finally met yours after the constant minutes without doing so. The soft glint of hope you found there went straight to your chest as you gave a forced smile nodding your head in acquiesce.

The corner of Carmy’s lips ticked up, eyes quickly darting across your face before moving towards the door removing his wallet from his bag and stopping by the door, you slowly followed behind so you could lock up for him.

“Anything in particular?” He asked, shoving his hands into his pocket as he turned to look at you.

You shook your head, nothing coming to your mind as you stared at him, “Surprise me?”

He stood there for a moment before rapidly nodding his head, turning to leave, stopping in the now open doorway, “Call me if you want anything specific, yeah?”

A genuine smile was sent his way at just how considerate he was, you moved to close the door, immediately stopping as his hands reached out surprising you as they found purchase on your waist. There was no time for you to question his motives as he quickly leaned in, chapped lips softly ghosting across your cheek before he quickly pulled away.

“I’ll be home soon, lock up okay?”

You stood there dumbfounded unsure of what to say or do or if you should say anything for that matter. The further Carmy got from the door the longer you stood there trying to wrap your head around how that man's mind worked. And even after he’d been gone awhile you tried to rationalize that the feel of his lips caressing your cheek meant nothing.

Carmy sat at the small table waiting for the order as he stared down at his phone. On the outside, he appeared calm like someone just stopping for a late-night bite to eat, and while the latter part was true the idea that he was anywhere near calm couldn’t be further from the truth.

At every stop he made he was itching to pick up the phone and call you, to apologize for the random kiss, unsure himself what even drove him to do it. When he stopped off to buy you more comfortable clothes so you could change if you wanted to, he almost called you. And then as he drove across town to pick up the order he placed at your favorite restaurant from your younger years all he could think about was the impromptu kiss he’d left you with.

His hand reached up for the nth time, his thumb unconsciously grazed his lips. The longer he sat there waiting the stronger the urge to call you and apologize became. He didn’t know what the fuck was going on with him when it came to you he was double and triple texting you throughout the week, basically having a conversation with himself with all the messages you’d left unanswered. Checking his phone for what felt like every second of the day, hoping that at some point your contact would be there waiting for him.

Carmen was sure he was going overboard but he couldn’t help the incessant need he felt to surround himself in you. He couldn’t be 100% sure but he felt like the time you spent together after the baby shower, basking in and understanding each other's hurt helped the two of you to come to some new point in your relationship. And then you continued to let him in, you allowed yourself to be the most vulnerable he’d seen you since before your fallout. You allowed him into your life, allowed him to see the hardened parts of you.

Something changed that day…well almost everything changed that day for Carmy. But the morning after as the two of you sat in your backyard and then you asked him to help you tend to your garden he realized he wanted to spend his Sunday mornings like that always with you. With you guiding him, teaching him a trade he wasn’t aware he’d ever enjoy. But watching as the morning sun pierced through the gloomy clouds and illuminated you at such a peaceful moment, the only time he swore he’d seen you truly in peace since you’d arrived back in town.

He remembered watching you from a few feet away tugging at the overgrown weeds, your skin glowing even as the sun fought with the overcast clouds to be able to steal glances at you the way Carmy was allowed to while in your presence. The way your gloved hand would travel up to wipe the sweat off of your face, leaving behind a dusting of dirt and mud in its wake. Carmy could indulge in your beauty forever and not just the physical aspects of it but the beauty in your movement, in the way you spoke, the beauty in your personality, and the grace you gave others; especially him.

Carmy’s reverie was broken as his packaged order was placed in front of him, he sent the worker a quick smile thanking them for their service before gathering his food and exiting the establishment. Carmy usually didn’t have many reasons to feel excited about returning to his lodgings, but reminding himself that he was returning home to you was all the truth he needed to lead him back to you.

The sound of keys turning in the door alerted you to Carmy’s return, but you didn’t give it a second thought as you continued working on the rough draft you began writing in his absence. A spark of motivation hit you as you were left to your own devices in your childhood friend’s apartment.

“Baby?” You let out a small distracted hum as you continued working doing your best to build the foundations of an article you were already weeks behind on. “Baby!” Your head shot up at Carmy’s raised call of your name, eyebrows furrowed until you turned to find him still standing by the door, hands full. The worry you could see on his face melted away the longer he looked at the silver of your head barely visible over the couch from your position on the floor.

You quickly stood up making your way towards him, surprised at how full his hands were, your eyes quickly darting around before landing on the bouquet among the few bags. “You get lost on the way home?” Carmen’s cheeks took on a pink hue at your teasing.

His lack of verbal response caused you to falter, unsure if you had read the situation wrong when he asked you to stay. You watched as his eyes glanced over to his small living area, your laptop open on his coffee table with papers he knew weren’t his scattered around it. You prepared yourself to apologize for the mess knowing Carmy had his own system of organized chaos and that maybe having your own added chaos was unwelcome.

“These are for you,” your eyes snapped back to him as he held out the bouquet to you. “There uh nothing compared to Willie’s but I uh…I saw them on the way home and I,” Carmy cleared his throat looking around for any sense of confidence he could find. “I wanted to get them for you.”

You nodded along with his explanation, uncaring of how much the smile on your lips may have given away your feelings, “Thank you for thinking of me, Carm.” Your hand rested on his forearm as you carefully removed the bouquet from his hand, “Let’s get these in some water yeah?”

Carmy sent you a small shy smile placing his now free hand on your back and leading you to the kitchen portion of his apartment, “Is it okay if I use these as a vase?” Carmy looked in your direction after setting the remainder of the bags on unoccupied counter space, a slight chuckle leaving him as you held up the plastic containers he’d use at the restaurant for certain ingredients and often time to drink out of.

“Course’ Baby.” He watched you for a moment longer, the smile on your face easing whatever doubts he’d been feeling about the rocky status of your relationship, one last longing look sent your way as he began unpacking the food.

The smell of delicious food wafted through the air as you began cutting the stems of your bouquet and arranging them in the containers. You could see Carmy moving around in your peripheral, not paying him much attention as he moved around you, your head finally perking up at the sound of the washing machine starting eyes finding Carmy as he once again joined you in the kitchenette.

You finished arranging the flowers, moving to the sink to fill the makeshift vases with water before turning and looking for a spot for them. The containers were momentarily forgotten as your eyes landed on an all too familiar photo hanging on Carmy’s fridge. A small sad smile lined your lips, the five of you all together like one big happy family, your heart ached for the younger versions of each of you in the picture who wouldn’t realize until it was too late that life wouldn’t always be this way. Your eyes strayed to Mikey’s figure for one last time wishing you had just a bit more time with him.

Giving yourself a small moment to tame your emotions, you maneuvered to the only empty counter space still left. Carefully you placed the two containers in the bit of space, a warmth radiating through you at Carmy randomly buying you flowers, you were loathe to admit it but he was the first person to buy you flowers unprovoked, and the fact that this was his second time doing so was not lost on you.

You turned to Carmy to find him still removing food from the takeaway bag, surprised at the amount of boxes now littering his counter. “Do you need any help?” You leaned back against the stove watching as Carmy’s head shot up, almost as if he’d forgotten you were there.

He nodded, “Could you grab some forks, from the drawer to your left.” He turned back to his previous activity, leaving you to grab the utensils.

Locating the only drawer on your left you quickly grabbed the only two forks taking up space in the draw, a soft laugh escaped you, part of you hoping Carmy had more forks that just needed to be clean. You felt a little sad at the idea of him only having utensils for himself, you were curious how much time he even willingly spent in this apartment but it didn’t feel like something you could outright ask given the awkward tension between the two of you. Though for once it wasn’t Carmy’s fault, you caused the awkwardness this time.

Closing the drawer your eyes focused on the forks for a few moments longer, as if they could give you answers to the self-doubt you felt about fixing your relationship with Carm. Moving to join Carmy you caught a very familiar, very intimate photo tapped above the stove.

You did a double take unsure if your eyes were playing tricks on you, but upon staring head-on at the Polaroid, you were surely not mistaken. From the intimate image of you and Carmy in bed, your eyes so full of love looking at the still image almost made you sick, and of course at the bottom your phone number. A part of you felt angry, it didn’t seem like Carmy had just randomly placed the Polaroid above the stove one day, you couldn’t explain it but the placement felt deliberate and if it hung there for however long it did, then why was it so easy for him to give Claire your number instead of calling you himself when you were sure he saw your number almost every day.

Taking a deep breath you allowed yourself to feel hurt about the picture, you had every right to be. But you also knew if you let your hurt guide you the two of you would just fall back into your cycle of arguing and going days without speaking. It was obvious the two of you had a lot more to talk about, so you would take the high road and hope more things got solved tonight.

“Hey Carm,” your hand reached out to delicately remove the photo from its place on the wall.

“Hmm,” he was now occupied with plating you each a portion of the food, eyes not giving you any attention.

A small smirk made its way to your face as you made your way over to him, your arm brushing his as you stopped next to him. “Do you keep all your porn in the kitchen?”

You felt him freeze next to you arms going slack as his head snapped up to look at the side of your face.

“W-what?” You could hear the slight fear and tinge of embarrassment in his voice, the notion making you smile bigger at how easy it was to mess with him. You allowed him to simmer in those feelings as you perused the plates surprised to see the familiar logos on the takeout boxes, your heart warming at Carmy’s attention to detail. You carefully set the forks on each of the dishes before grabbing the one closest to you.

You dropped the Polaroid in the empty spot the plate once was, “Thank you for dinner Carmy.” You placed a chaste kiss on his cheek before maneuvering yourself around him so you could eat.

The apartment was quiet as you took a seat on the floor, placing your plate on the coffee table, before beginning to eat. The quiet expletive that left Carmy’s lips gained a small laugh from you, you sent him a wide smile as he joined you on the couch, neither of you saying a word as you ate dinner.

The awkward air from earlier returned as the two of you finished your respective meals, the quiet dialogue from the random T.V. show playing was the only noise in the apartment as you and Carmy sat on opposite sides of the couch. You intended to initiate a conversation after dinner but found yourself overthinking the best way to address everything between you two at the moment. The longer you sat there in silence the more resigned you felt to just thank Carm for dinner and leave his apartment without another word.

As if the atmosphere wasn’t ripe enough with tension, the “sneaky” glances the two of you stole from each other did little to help especially when one of you caught the other and shy smiles ensued. You felt like a teenager all over again all shy and uncertain. But the longer you sat in Carmy’s apartment you realized just how juvenile this all was, Carmy already knew how strongly you felt for him and if it wasn’t clear when you let him pump and dump you a year ago, then you were damn well sure it was clear when you yelled that you loved him in the restaurant all those weeks ago. And now the two of you were just dancing around what everybody else had known for some time.

Suddenly you sat forward from your position on the couch reaching to grab your bag off the coffee table. Carefully removing the pristine envelope you placed your bag down and turned to look at Carmy, unsurprised to find his eyes already on you.

You held out your hand to him urging him to take the envelope, “This came in the mail today. Everything is in your name now, the trademark is yours, Carm.” You waited with bated breath as his eyes flickered from yours down to the envelope in your hand, confusion sweeping over you the longer the envelope hung between the two of you.

His hand reached out gently removing the object from your grip, you wanted to tease him from the unnecessary contact he’d created. His hand latched delicately around your wrist to hold it in place while his free hand reached for the envelope, the hand still holding your wrist gently slid away as he pulled back making sure each of his work-calloused fingers left behind the whisper of a kiss against your now empty palm.

You watched as he silently opened the envelope taking the time to read over the enclosed document. You could tell he read it more than once, likely soaking in that what he’d been working for was finally coming to fruition; that Mikey’s dream would finally become reality. Your heart lurched as his fingers traced over the printed words, you couldn’t help the wetness that rose to your waterline, a feeling of gratefulness raced through you at the fact that you were back here in Chicago surrounded by family watching each of them accomplish something different.

As Carmy continued ruminating on whatever thoughts were racing through his head, you quietly began gathering your items feeling as though this was a good time to call it a night. You had just slipped on your jacket when you felt pressure at the base of your spine, looking over your shoulder to find Carmy’s confused eyes looking at you.

“You’re leaving?” You were surprised by the slight hurt in his voice, your arms dropping to your side as you felt like you had done something wrong.

You gave him a small nod motioning toward the watch on your wrist, “It's late Carm, I don’t want to inconvenience you more than I already have.” You hoped the joking tone in your voice was evident to him.

“You haven’t inconvenienced me.” The conviction in his voice wasn’t lost as you stared at him for a moment.

A quiet laugh left you, “I showed up at your doorstep unannounced Carm, and then I basically forced you into buying me dinner. Does that not sound inconvenient to you? Plus, I’m sure you want some alone time.”

His eyes locked on yours as though he were searching for something, you couldn’t be sure but standing in his living room under his penetrating gaze like so warmed you. You watched as a light blush raced up his neck, his cheeks tinging a pretty shade of pink, you could tell his mind was racing with what to say next, his eyes were still locked on yours but now had a faraway look to them.

“Would it…ahem,” the clearing of his throat brought his full focus back to you. “Would it be weird if I wanted to spend my alone time with…uh with you?”

It was quiet after his confession, the smile you once held dropping as you realized his words to be serious, his widening eyes told you that he was seconds from backtracking on his previous words. You quickly shook your head, sending him a quick smile.

“Are you asking me to have a sleepover with you, Carmy?” Your eyes were full of mirth as his earlier blush deepened when your eyes found his once again. “Like when we were kids?” The latter question was unnecessary it would always be worth it every time if it meant you got to watch Carmy clam up as he thought of a way to relieve his embarrassment.

You waited for his response, part of you assuming you’d teased him too much as he just stared at you wide-eyed, you tried to laugh off the awkwardness you were beginning to feel. “It was sweet of you to ask Carm, but I don’t have an emergency overnight bag in my car.” You hoped your tone didn’t give away just how much you were actually thinking about accepting his offer.

“You do.” You frowned at his words, eyebrows raising as you urged him to continue, “I mean…it's just that I uh picked up some stuff for you when I was out.”

You felt your heart clench at Carmy’s confession, his eyes looking everywhere but at your as he realized how the whole thing may have come across to you. “I…sorry I didn’t mean to overstep or…or imply anything I just-,”

“Carm hey,” you reached out to grip his hand, your thumb rubbing soothing circles against it. “You didn’t do anything wrong, I’d be happy to spend the night with you.”

He nodded, you could still see the apprehension on his face and you couldn’t tell if it was because of his own actions, or if he was regretting having asked you to stay the night in the first place.

“Not to sound ungrateful but did you happen to pick up anything I could change into?” Your question had its intended effect, diverting Carmy’s attention as he pointed to the washer in answer before leading you back to the kitchenette to the still-full bag you paid little attention to while in the kitchen with him earlier.

To say it was a surprise to see the bag full of the products that could be found in your bathroom back home would be a lie. You zoned out as Carmy took the time to explain that he picked out what he could remember seeing in your shower, your eyes burning into the side of his head as you took the time to allow the events of the past hour to sink into your mind thinking back on the advice you’d received from Natalie.

“Baby?” The questioning tone of Carmy’s voice revealed he tried to gain your attention for some time now.

You blinked a couple of times your eyes immediately finding Carmy’s as you cleared the blur of tears away. You couldn’t help the way your heart seemed to beat faster the longer you looked at him, or the way it ached all the same as though it was longing for a want that was finally so close, a want that could become tangible if you allowed it to. The silence permeated between the two of you, worry lines etching into Carmy’s forehead the longer you went without speaking.

It was as though a realization had just dawned on you, sure you were standing in front of Carmen Berzatto, but you didn’t know this man standing in front of you; not really. He was so different from the young man you left behind all of those years ago and in some ways all the same. Although you’d seen him at Christmas that one time and spent a few hours with him in New York, neither of those instances made up for the 10 years the two of you spent apart living and maturing without each other.

But you wanted to know him, to know him intimately. To know him as a friend and a lover and everything in between. And even though you still had so much time to make up for between the two of you, you knew deep down that it would all be okay. You knew it in the way he cared for you as you showcased your most vulnerable parts to him. He showed it in the way he forgave you so easily for hiding such a horrifying truth from him. In the way he checked in on you over this week as you went silent, the way he so easily invited you into his space made sure you ate, and brought you flowers all because he wanted to.

It felt abysmal the way you were picking at straws at this moment, but Natalie was right the self-sabotaging was getting ridiculous. And right now all you wanted was to be happy, and Carmy seemed to be offering you that in his in-experienced way.

You took a step forward, arms instantly wrapping around his neck as you melted into him regardless of whether he returned your affection. But it was immediate, the way one of his firm arms snaked around your waist, the remaining one moving up to grip the back of your neck holding you as tight as he possibly could, if it was possible you were sure he would’ve melded your bodies together. The rough pad of his thumb swept across the skin of your neck, you listened as he took a sharp intake of breath, his body relaxing into yours even more as he inhaled your scent finding comfort in the mixture of your signature perfume and just the smell of you.

“I’ve missed you so much, Carmen.” The quiet words found their home in the space of his neck, your soft lips leaving behind the ghost of a kiss.

a/n: domestic filler with a subtle splash of fluff and angst. next chapter will pick up where this one left off enjoy. 🤍

[anikaluv]

I'LL BE THERE —

❤︎︎ pairing:  Miles (e!42) × fem!reader

❤︎︎ genre: fluff

❤︎︎ cw:  stalking , Miles being a barbie kinnie, reader realizing there’s no escape lmao

❤︎︎ summary: Miles was your ex from a year ago, and you had completely moved on, blooming in your new life. So, why was he just now popping up everywhere?

❤︎︎ w/c: 800

❤︎︎ a/n: Was thinking about how Barbie has a million different jobs and went like, “What if that was Miles?”

E!42 MILES getting so frustrated in an argument you two were having; looked you dead in the eyes and spat, "If you don't like that shit, you can get up and leave."

E!42 MILES being genuinely shocked when that is precisely what you did, thinking this was just gonna be another one of the little squabbles you two were used to having

E!42 MILES realizing in the next following months that you could live perfectly without him and move on, while he, on the other hand, was going through the worst turmoil of his life

E!42 MILES deciding that whether or not you wanted him in your life, he needed you in his. So he was going to get you back no matter what

E!42 MILES turning around to greet you with a cheeky grin on his face at the cafe you’ve been a regular for the past 6 years as the barista going, “Hello precious, ¿Qué será para ti hoy? (What will it be for you today?)”

E!42 MILES ignoring your look of surprise as he jots down your usual order that he already has memorized and then has the audacity to look back into your eyes and ask, “Can I get a name for the order, please?”

E!42 MILES a few days later watching as you pull in your cart full of groceries to checkout and couldn't help but laugh mischievously when your jaw dropped when seeing that he was the cashier. (He made sure to scan your items very slowly)

E!42 MILES becoming the bus driver of the bus you took every day to work. Pulling up to your bus stop, opening the doors, tipping his hat, and greeting you with a playful smile. "Mornin', mi vida (my life), pretty day, ain't it?", ignoring your eye roll as you stepped onto the bus.

E!42 MILES who “coincidently” ditches the home gym he’s been using since he started being the prowler and starts going to the exact same gym as you, sucking in his breath when he sees you squat in those tight seamless shorts

E!42 MILES who’s happy to treat you and your niece to some ice-cream at the park inside of the ice cream truck he now works at, playfully chuckling at you as you arrogantly shoved the money into his chest.

E!42 MILES sitting comfortably in a salon chair at your normal nail salon as a nail tech, ready to paint whatever design you desire on your delicate fingers

E!42 MILES who types into his computer at your local bank as your bank teller, prepared to enter in your weekly / monthly checks when you walk in. Taking your check out of your hand to observe it, acting shocked like it’s not its about the same amount every time. “Woah, cariño (darlin’) , did’nt know my girl worked this hard.” (He was proud of you, he knew his girl could achieve anything she wanted on her own )

E!42 MILES who welcomes you openly to his salon chair at your favorite hair salon when your usual stylist “happens” to be out of town going, “Hey mami, you want the usual?”

E!42 MILES at your library organizing books loudly while you’re studying for a important exam, holding his finger at your lips when you’re about to explode and scream and whispers, “Baby, this is a quiet environment, quiet your lips f’me aight?”

E!42 MILES clocking in as your yoga instructor at your yoga studio only on the one day of the week you go, wearing a purple headband with a tight tank top and yoga pants that showed the ass you didn’t know he had. You groaning as he does doggy style shouts, “Thats it ladies! You want to really arch your back like this!” while smirking. (Kelly Clarkson’s “What doesn’t Kill You Makes You Stronger” is playing in the back)

E!42 MILES who works at your local mall at Nike on one knee in front of you happily assisting you put on one of the pairs of shoes, locking eyes with you the whole time wearing that smug grin he always got. (When he was finished you kicked him in the face before he got up, but lets be honest, he probably fell in love more)

E!42 MILES being on the plane you were taking to move and get away from him. Wearing his flight attendant uniform and slowly making his way down the aisles. Finally getting to you and turning to you as that cute scowl appears on your face while nonchalantly saying, “Would you like some pretzels, ma? They gluten-free.”

E!42 MILES chuckling loudly when you downright ask him why was he following you everywhere like a stalking creep, amused that you haven’t gotten the message yet

E!42 MILES picking up your chin to make you give him all of your attention, leaning down to where your lips brushed against each other, and spoke in a quiet tone no one else heard,

“Doesn’t matter where you go or what you do conejita (bunny), I’ll be there."

ENDING A/N:  Is this really extra and extremely unrealistic, damn right. But its funny.

TAGLIST: @janaeby @bellstwd @nmgstuff @axeoverblade @zaddyskye69 @agstuffsworld @spidrstar @laylasbunbunny @missusmorales @popeheywardssecretgf @lumineliax @fukingsad @wisteriaflowersss @crxss01 @joliety @fiannee @sylisan

TAGS:

[roostersbby69]

0.7 | For old times sake

Summary: Bradley hasn’t gotten any action with his wife. They didn’t have kids, not because of their jobs, but because she just didn’t want to anymore. Bradley had a very high sex drive, and his maid that his wife hired might just give him a memory refresh of how good sex is.

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x maid!reader

For old times sake masterlist. Full masterlist.

Before the end of the week, you had accomplished two exams and finished three energy drinks.

Your roommate was packing up her side of the dorm and you were steadily finishing up an assignment.

It was getting towards the end of the year and graduation was a couple weeks away. It was unbelievable, really, you were working on double majoring and finding where your heart was set in life.

You had a pretty good idea of what you wanted but you weren’t completely sure yet.

Today you were scheduled to clean the Bradshaws house at 3:00, as usual. So you quickly finished up your essay and typed away on your computer when an email popped up on the top of your screen.

Raising a brow, you clicked on it and watched as your computer took you to your email website.

Your lips twitched when you read the email.

Bradleybradsaw12@icloud.com

You clicked on it and read the message in your head.

Bradleybradshaw12@icloud.com

Hey, I was wondering if you could come a little earlier today. Around 1, if it’s possible. I know this is short notice, just trust me. I don’t have your phone number so this is the only way I could contact you rather than sending a dove with a letter to your place.

You smiled and started typing a response back almost immediately.

Hi Mr. Bradshaw, yes that is fine with me. I will be there at 1:00.

You sent it and sighed, this was wrong. You shouldn’t be emailing a married man, but then again it wasn’t completely inappropriate.

It was currently 12:00 so you grabbed your bag with your computer before grabbing your purse and heading towards the door.

-

Bradley typed on his computer at the kitchen table as Isabelle walked in.

“Goodmorning.” He mumbled as she rubbed her eyes and went to the fridge.

“Don’t be an ass.” She retorted back and grabbed a water from the fridge.

“Let me guess, you’re going to that stupid yoga class.” Bradley leaned back in his chair and folded his broad arms over his chest.

“What is the matter with you? I can’t do the things I want? And it’s called Pilates.” She put the word Pilates in syllables for him.

He rolled his eyes and slammed his computer shut before getting up and walking towards the sink.

“Oh yeah? Is that where you’re going?” Bradley turned around to face her as she stopped in her tracks.

“Where else would I be going, Bradley?” She crossed her arms and blinked at him.

“Don’t know, Isabelle, why don’t you tell me?”

“What the fuck are you on about?”

“Just forget it.” He muttered as he turned around and flicked the sink on. He scrubbed his hands with soap so hard he thought his hands were going to start bleeding.

His eyes flashed to the clock on the oven and realized you would be here in 30 minutes.

He also realized that starting an argument with Isabelle would get her out of the house, leaving him enough time to get you over here.

She grabbed her keys and bag before slipping her tennis shoes on and walking out the door without saying a word.

Called it.

Bradley knew she always did that, she always ran off when there was an argument or a conflict between them. And Bradley wasn’t one to just walk away, he liked to talk it out and make things better between the person.

He learned in the past that petty arguments aren’t worth it and that he didn’t want to live the rest of his life holding grudges.

Bradley turned to the stove and checked the time again, twenty minutes before you would be here.

He sighed and turned around before grabbing his laptop again, which was still at the table.

He sat down and typed in his password, the screen popped up as a website for facebook and he typed in Isabelle’s name.

He found her profile then clicked on her following list.

“Damn,” He muttered to himself, “Who knows three hundred people?” He scrunched up his face as he scrolled through the various accounts she followed and noticed it was more supermodels and health enthusiasts.

The hard thing was, Isabelle doesn’t work, she isn’t employed at all. It would be easier if she were and Bradley could find out faster who the face behind the number is.

As he was scrolling endlessly through the numerous amounts of accounts, he didn’t notice you knocking on the door.

His head whipped up as you knocked a third time on the window.

He saw your head peeking down below the blinds and he shot up from his seat to hurry and unlock the door for you.

“I’m so sorry.” He apologized and let you inside, “I always forget to unlock the door.”

You waved him off and thanked him as you walked past to enter the house, “No problem, I haven’t been outside long.” You noticed the computer that was open on the table and set your bag down on the chair, “What you up to?”

Bradley walked towards it and adjusted the screen before typing again, “Nothing much, just some work stuff.”

You nodded then scrunched your face in thought, “I thought you were in the Navy?” You said more of a question than a statement.

His eyes raised to you for a split second the back down to the computer, “I am.”

“Oh okay.” You nodded and made your way to the sink to grab the spray bottles.

Bradley continued to type as you sprayed the counters and wiped them down.

You found yourself looking back at him, but he was too busy “working” on his computer.

Bradley scrunched his eyes as he tried to find some evidence that could tell him who this number was.

You were humming a random song when he snapped you out of your daydreaming.

“You know how to hack a phone or something?” He never looked towards you.

“Uhm, yeah, kind of.” You set the rag down and walked over to where he sat and peered over his shoulder at the computer screen.

“I’m trying to find out some information.” He mumbled as he patted his thigh.

You thought you knew what he was trying to tell you but you didn’t know if you were right or not, so you decided just to stay standing.

“What information?”

Bradley grabbed your hips and guided you to sit down on his lap as he spoke, “A mystery phone number in my wife’s phone.”

Your eyes widened but you tried to remain composed, “Why don’t you just ask her?”

“Because I believe she is seeing this person.” He mumbled, trying to stay composed himself.

“Oh.” Was all you could say, what were you supposed to say, sorry?

“You didn’t write down the phone number?” You turned to face him.

“Yeah.” He dug through some papers and mail on the table and plucked out a napkin with the phone number written in blue ink.

You took it in your hands and read it over, “Well, it’s a work number. For sure.” You leaned over to let him see the numbers for himself.

“How do you know?”

“You see the first three numbers?” You pointed to them.

He hummed to show he was listening and stared at the first three.

“Those are the numbers of that bank on 45th street. I use that bank.”

Of course it was.

Bradley’s jaw clenched as he listened to you explain.

“So, all we have to do is go through every bank nearby and match the numbers. Like a puzzle.” You turned back around and typed one the keyboard.

Bradley was truly amazed, despite the situation he was in, and the context behind it. But you were figuring this out like it was nothing.

He watched as you took a paper and pen and wrote the name of the bank down and crossing it out.

“Not that one.” You mumbled as you typed in another bank name

His fingers trailed up your thighs as his pointer finger rubbed the seam on your jeans that sat tightly against your pussy.

You breathed deeply, feeling his wonderful fingers, and tried to stay focused.

His eyes trailed up your neck and to your jaw where he leaned forward and placed a kiss under your ear. You squirmed in his lap and leaned back into his touch.

His tongue poked out to kitten lick your jaw as he replaced it with a soft kiss.

You sighed and felt his hands tease their way up your ribcage as his fingers hit every bone and they skimmed under your boobs.

“Keep going.” He groaned as he felt his dick tighten and realized your typing had slowed down, “Need you to be a good girl and help me.”

You nodded and kept typing and crossing out as you tried to discreetly rub yourself against his thighs.

His hands came up and gave each of your boobs a nice squeeze, “You’re such a smart girl. Always so good for me.” He praised and listened as you almost moaned.

His movements stopped when he heard you gasp and say, “Ive found it.”

Bradley grabbed the computer and read the name of the bank slowly.

“JP Morgan citi-bank.” He read out loud.

“Got you now you son of a bitch.”

—————————————————————

Part 8

Authors note: they’re full blown detective at this point! See you next chapter!!

Drop a comment!

Tag list:

@rosiahills22

@schreksdoubledeckerhomechecker

@aestheticaltcow

@bellaireland1981

[iovevrse]

broken clocks, p. bueckers pt. 3

broken clocks masterlist

pairings: paige bueckers x fem reader

synopsis: when you met paige, you thought the two of you would have one of those cheesy high school love stories that lasted for years. you were wrong.

cw: slight smut (theyre 18), hs p, angst, first personn

1 Year Earlier

After that night, Paige and I talked at the pizza place. It had been as if we’d immediately become a more significant part of each other’s lives. We did everything together, and from that point on, it had been rare for me to miss a Hopkins game day.

Today was no different from the usual routine we’d adapted. It was a Friday night, and Paige had a late practice, so I’d made my way to her house to wait in her room for her. Coming over despite Paige not being there herself had been Paige’s idea. She still wanted me to come over but didn't want me to have to drive so late at night. She said her dad wouldn’t mind, but that didn’t make him any less confused when I’d shown up on his doorstep for the first time, and he told me Paige was at practice. I informed him I knew that and that his daughter said I could come over and wait for her to get back. Nonetheless, the man let me in, still confused, but he didn’t doubt it was something his daughter would do.

I sat on her bed waiting, typing away on my computer in an attempt to add something to my English essay that was due Sunday night before Paige came back. Despite Paige claiming it would be time to “lock in” on schoolwork, I knew nothing would get done tonight. She, in fact, never locked in. She just put on music and took a nap.

Like usual, Paige barged into the room with her two backpacks slugged over her shoulders. She threw them on the floor and immediately crashed into the bed, wrapping her arm around her pillow. “Hey P,” I muttered, still typing my essay, “how was practice?” I ask. She mumbled a “good” response before turning around in the bed and pulling me down with her. She wrapped her arms around my waist and cuddled me, resting her head on my shoulder. She had always been the kind of friend that was touchy, but this was different than usual. I just figured practice had tired her out completely. Maybe they had to run laps or something. I closed my computer and set it on the floor before laying in her arms, not saying a word. We’d both fallen asleep like that and a few hours later, we’d woken up.

Paige yawned and checked her phone. The time read 2:30 AM, and I rested my head on the blonde’s chest. That’s when she looked at me. I looked back, and I felt this tight feeling in my chest. I’d always noticed it happen when it came to Paige’s gaze. She had this ability to make whoever she was with or talking to the main thing her eyes were set on. We’d stayed looking at each other for what felt like forever until she leaned in, kissing me softly.

That soft kiss had escalated, and as soon as I knew it, the tall blonde was on top of me, kissing me harder than before. Paige then made her way down my body, planting light kisses. Before she had made it between my legs, her blue eyes looked at me with that same gaze again, more intense and clouded than before. “Is this ok?” the blonde whispered, her voice as raspy as it always was after waking up from a nap.

I just nodded in response, and she continued to trail kisses on my thighs, inside and out, before sliding my shorts and baby pink undies off. She looked up at me again, same as before, begging for my approval again, and once she got it, her tongue started to slowly lick at my folds, her middle finger sliding in and accompanying her tongue’s movements. Before I knew it, I was covering my face with a pillow to stay quiet and not wake up Paige’s parents or brothers.

Current Day

Seeing Paige again had brought back every negative and positive emotion I’d ever felt or had about the girl. I thought I’d done so well to forget about her until it came to having to see her again. I cursed myself for not playing it normal and acting unbothered when I saw her. You prepare yourself mentally for so many situations, telling yourself that you’d do one thing or another just for the time to come and nothing will go as planned. As I stood there, quickly texting Alexa that we needed to go, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Once again, I whipped my head around to be met with a tall, blue-eyed blonde. The same one I gave my everything to.

Almost on reflex, I shrugged her off. “Look, I’m so sorry,” Paige started. I rolled my eyes in response and continued walking in some random direction. “Please, hear me out,” pleaded the blonde as she grabbed my arm, pulling me towards her. I almost fell for it again. Her gaze made me feel like I was the only thing on her mind. Like the most important person in her world. I force myself to look away and pull back from her. “I’m not tryna hear shit of what you got to say right now, Paige.” The blonde groaned softly before stepping closer, “Just listen to me, please.”

“Nah, not today,” I mutter, forcing myself to look into her eyes again. She looked hurt, and I couldn’t help but want to take back what I said. Maybe even forget everything she did to me because the Paige I knew before would never hurt me like that. I almost opened my mouth to speak again before a taller girl pulled me away.

I guessed Alexa had finally found me, and she wasted no time dragging me away from the blonde. I wondered if maybe she’d been there longer than I thought and heard Paige’s pleas. Either way, I thanked her for getting me out of that situation. I just hoped I wouldn’t have to run into the blonde again. I knew that wouldn’t be the case though.