#didn't think i'd get this one done till later into the weekend...

[supes9]

"I'm gonna take that promotion, I guess."

"Well, engineers have their bad days, too..."

🚨 SUMMER OF 51’s (2024) 🚨            ⮑ Day 16:  Change Your Mind

[helloalycia]

a bitch [one] // leigh shaw

summary: you're used to leigh's constant mood swings and unpredictability, but didn't expect she'd ever do something to hurt you like she did.

warning/s: cheating

author's note: an angsty leigh shaw imagine was requested, so here we are! there's one more part to this so enjoy 😊

part two | masterlist | wattpad

Leigh Shaw could be a very unpredictable woman.

Ever since the unfortunate death of her husband, Matt, she'd become very erratic. It was hard to remember what she was like before he died, but then she'd flash me a smile and say something adorable and I remembered. Other times though, she could be as explosive as they came. If you ever got swept up in her mood swings, you'd be screwed.

Despite this, I remained by her side. That's what best friends did. Even when she yelled at me or gave me the cold shoulder or treated me like dirt, I stayed because I knew that was what she needed.

One time, a few months after Matt's death, I was stopping by to see how she was. A prime example of the cold effect she could have on people.

I raised my hand to knock, but the door suddenly swung open, revealing a peeved Jules and a pissed Leigh further behind her in the hallway.

"Hey," I greeted her sister with a smile, but she moved past me moodily. I glanced at Leigh before catching Jules' arm, stopping her. "What happened?"

Jules smiled bitterly. "You know, you should reconsider where you put your care, Y/N. Some people just aren't worth it."

At that last part, she glared over my shoulder, no doubt at Leigh. I turned to look at Leigh, who merely stuck a middle finger up at her sister before storming towards to the kitchen.

"What a bitch," Jules mumbled, making me wince because it was such a horrible word.

Jules shook me off before marching to her car to leave. I sighed and turned around to let myself in to their house. Closing the door behind me, I followed after Leigh and found her making toast in the kitchen angrily.

"Hey," I began softly, not wanting to give her another reason to get pissed off. Sitting on a stool at the island, I asked, "What happened?"

She forced a smile as she grabbed her toast from the toaster and dropped it on a plate. "My sister can't respect my space is all."

I pursed my lips awkwardly, watching as she grabbed butter from the fridge. Noticing my silence, she glanced up at me through her eyelashes.

"What?" she deadpanned, pausing from her actions.

"I don't think Jules is trying to upset you," I began, knowing I'd probably regret it. "I'm sure she understands you want space, but she loves you. And when you see someone you love hurting, you feel like you have to do something."

A sour smile broke out on her face as she scoffed. "Wow. Could you have your head stuck any further up Jules' arse?"

"Leigh, that's not what I'm–"

"What the hell are you even doing here?" she snapped. "I didn't invite you, Y/N."

Tensing my jaw, I refrained from getting annoyed. "Believe it or not, I actually wanted to check on you."

She curled her lips into a frown. "Well, I'm fine."

As if to prove that she was, she continued to butter her toast, but when she set her knife down, it slipped off the edge of the table and clattered to the floor. Frustrated, she slammed a fist on the countertop.

"It's okay, I'll–"

"Just get out," she cut me off when I was making a move to help her. I paused, wondering if she meant it, then her deadly green glare settled on my face. "Leave."

Sighing with defeat, I nodded and wordlessly left.

—

Sometimes Leigh wouldn't apologise. She'd act like nothing had happened and we'd move on. Other times, she actually would, surprisingly recognising that she'd done something wrong.

There was this one time when I'd invited her over for the evening to eat dinner and watch some films. The dinner went perfectly fine – we talked, we laughed, we spent time together – but then when we settled in the living room to watch a film, things started to unravel.

I can't remember exactly what she'd said. One second we were choosing a film on Netflix, then she was trying to make plans with me on the weekend. Unfortunately, I already had plans with my girlfriend, Alex, and Leigh didn't seem to like this. She'd made a comment under her breath and though I don't remember it specifically, I knew it wasn't polite.

Before I knew it, we were screaming at each other, arguing over the dumbest things. It started off being about my girlfriend and then the most unrelated stuff was being brought up on both of our ends. Sometimes she could be so aggravating, managing to rile me up and bring the worst out in me. The argument lasted a few minutes before she left, leaving me seething and full of hurt.

It was the following day at work when she came to see me next. I owned a café a few doors down from her mother's dance studio and was working a shift when her sister came through the front door.

I smiled at her when she approached the counter dressed in gym gear, her usual getup when at work with her family.

"Hey, how're you doing, Jules?" I asked.

"I'm good," she greeted with a smile, before it faded. "Just a warning, Y/N, Leigh is incoming in one minute. She wants to apologise."

Eyes rolling with mild annoyance, I let out a sigh. As dreadful as our spat was last night, I knew I had to also apologise to her. I'd said some hurtful things that made me feel all icky inside. Going to sleep after a fight was never a nice feeling.

"I don't know how you've put up with her for this long," Jules commented, picking up a cupcake from the display. "She can be so horrible to you."

I frowned, not feeling comfortable talking badly of Leigh behind her back. "That's not fair, Jules. You know what she's going through."

Jules gave me a knowing look. "I do, but that doesn't give her a free pass to treat you like she does."

Shrugging, I busied myself with cleaning up the crumbs from Jules' cupcake and giving her a plate.

"I take it you're going to forgive her then," she stated, though she definitely knew the answer judging from her expression.

"We both said some things we shouldn't have," I tried to explain so it didn't seem like I was giving in so easily, which deep down, I definitely knew I was, but Leigh was worth it.

Jules chuckled. "Yep, you're forgiving her. Looks like it's Leigh's lucky day."

I didn't say anything as she picked up the plate, ready to take a seat at one of the tables. Just as she was about to leave, she paused thoughtfully.

"You know, if you didn't have a girlfriend already, I'd say you were whipped," she said casually.

Ignoring her words, I watched her take her a seat on one of the spare tables. She made jokes like that a lot, but the truth was that I would probably do anything for Leigh. We'd been best friends since university – that was way too long to simply throw away our friendship because she was going through a tough time. And yes, the girlfriend talk threw me off at times... by the time I'd realised I liked Leigh as more than a friend, she was engaged. And I got over it, but Jules continued with the jokes and I continued to dismiss it.

As Jules warned, Leigh entered the café and caught my eyes with a nervous smile. I returned it, just as nervous as she looked, before watching her approach the counter. She was dressed in gym gear, like her sister, but a fine layer of sweat coated her skin which made me think she may have just finished teaching a class.

"Hey," she said with a rare gentleness to her voice. Her hands rested on the counter, fumbling slightly, before she put them by her sides instead. "How are you?"

Uncomfortably, I played with a loose thread on my apron. "I've been better, not gonna lie."

She exhaled regretfully. "I want to apologise, Y/N. Last night... it wasn't fair what I did. Just snapping at you like that."

I didn't know what to say, so I stayed quiet and avoided her eyes.

"I just get so angry sometimes," she admitted, noticing I wouldn't speak. She sounded exhausted and I looked up to see her running a hand through her hair. "I can't explain it. My anger at you wasn't about Alex or the plans, it was just me."

"It's because you're still hurting," I told her what I'd observed, shoulders relaxing. "And you're not very good at expressing that."

She shook her head, eyes drifting to the till distractedly. "I should be because I keep hurting the people I love."

My heart ached at the devastation in her voice and I put my hand out, motioning for her to take it. Thankfully, she did and I squeezed hers gently.

"Look, let's just forget it happened," I said with a small smile. "I... I didn't exactly say the nicest of things either."

She grimaced, letting go of my hand. "No, I get why you said it. It wasn't fair of me to just start on you like that. You were just defending your girlfriend... God, I can be such a bitch sometimes."

I winced at the word, it grating my ears. "That's not true, Leigh."

"It is." She nodded slowly, rolling her eyes. "Everybody thinks it. Including you."

"I don't think that," I said with creased brows, meeting her saddened eyes. "You're not a bitch. I've never once thought that."

"Really?" She raised a brow, smiling with defeat. "Not even that time when I stole your doughnuts after that fight we had two weeks ago?"

I shook my head. "Nope."

"Not even when I snapped at you for no reason the other day when you tried to help me write my article?"

"Not even then."

Her expression softened with guilt. "Not even when I called you a selfish jerk last night for not wanting to spend time with me even though you have a life of your own?"

I rounded the counter and stopped before her, looking between her guilt-ridden eyes. "Especially not then, Leigh."

She breathed out quietly and I pulled her in for a hug, glad when I felt her relax beneath me. Her arms clasped around my waist and I was glad we were good again.

—

It was a year later when Leigh and I eventually got together as a couple. It was a long time after I broke up with my girlfriend and it was completely unexpected.

I'd invited Leigh to be my 'date' to my mum's birthday party, since the two had gotten on so well in the past. She was happy to oblige, but as soon as we arrived, her mood changed.

I was helping collect the pizzas from the delivery guy when he started to flirt with me. At the time, I didn't even realise, but I knew that Leigh had acted different since it happened. When I finally confronted her about her sudden mood swing, she proceeded to make out with me completely unexpectedly and then admitted she was in love with me.

I'm not gonna lie, it was a good time. Since breaking up with my girlfriend, I'd been single and falling for my best friend all over again. Leigh making the first move was all I'd needed to finally share how I felt, too.

That was six months ago, and since then, we'd been going strong. Of course, there were still times when she had her mood swings and took it out on me (and literally everyone else) without realising, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. I was used to it, used to her. So much that I should have trusted her even when presented with conflicting evidence.

We were at her workplace, Basically News, where she wrote columns part-time. It was a work party she'd been invited to and she'd asked me to be her date, which of course I said yes to. At the moment, we may or may not have been a little tipsy as we stood in the corner, drinking from flutes of champagne.

"Thank you again for coming here tonight as my date," Leigh said with a grin, arms laced around my neck as she held me close.

Pressing a kiss to my lips briefly, she pulled away and left my head spinning, and not just because of the alcohol.

"Any excuse to not be on the closing shift at work is good enough for me," I said playfully, resting my hands behind her waist.

She gasped. "Oh? So it wasn't me who persuaded you to come tonight?"

I pulled a face, feigning forgetfulness. "Hmm, I'm not too sure. Maybe you'll have to remind me why I agreed to come."

She bit her lip to contain her grin, eyes flickering to my lips. Leaning in, her lips met mine and I closed my eyes, enjoying the way she combed her hand through my hair and tilted my head towards her so she could get better access. She was a really good kisser and she knew the effect she had on me as I felt her smirk into it, catching her breath, before chasing down my lips and nibbling on them temptingly.

Remembering where we were, I gently pushed her back and tried to contain my smile. "Make it PG, Leigh. You're at work."

She licked her lips and began to laugh, green eyes darting between mine. "You're just so cute."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "I don't want everyone here knowing how irresistible you are or they might try to steal you away."

Her laughter filled the air, making my stomach flip at the sound.

"Though I think they may already know that because of how sexy you look tonight," I added, eyes fluttering down her body to appreciate just how well she pulled off her fitted black dress.

She raised her brows with surprise, making me mirror her expression comically.

Leaning close to my ear, she said above a whisper, "D'you wanna know something not-so-sexy?"

Her breath tickled my ear and sent shivers down my spine, making me tense up slightly. Judging from the expression on her face, she was very much aware of what she was doing to me.

"What?" I asked with amusement.

"I really need to pee," she said, and I began to laugh because she did, too, and I knew she wasn't kidding. Pressing a kiss to my cheek, she added, "I'll be right back."

Letting go of me, she waved goodbye before going to the toilets. I busied myself with getting to know her colleagues whilst I waited, until five minutes had passed and I realised she still hadn't returned. Deciding to check on her, I headed in the direction of the toilets, only to freeze when I saw something I definitely wasn't expecting.

Leigh was kissing another girl outside of them.

It was her colleague, Abby, that was the first thing I noticed. But I didn't stay to make out anything more as I immediately turned around and walked away, trying to make my brain catch up to what I'd just seen.

Leigh was kissing somebody else. Somebody that wasn't me. Somebody who I had always suspected had a thing for her, but I never considered that maybe Leigh had a thing for her, too.

Definitely not tipsy anymore, I found the nearest table and took a seat, trying not to assume the worst. But how else could I perceive what I'd just seen? It could have been a mistake, though I was so shocked and hurt and angry that I couldn't imagine how. Maybe she'd explain herself to me. Or maybe she'd tell me what actually happened. Maybe.

Leigh returned not long after, finding me at the table. Smiling like nothing had happened, she pulled me up and led me to dance. Not once, for the remainder of the evening, did she suggest that anything was out of the ordinary, nor did she explain herself. And I couldn't help but wonder how I had the worst luck with women.

This one hurt way more than the last time because it wasn't just anyone – it was Leigh.

—

A year and a half ago:

"Danny mentioned the breakdown you had last week because they didn't have doughnuts, so I, er, brought you these just in case."

Leigh cracked a small smile in the passenger's seat before accepting the box I held out to her. I'd just parked up outside the place where she went to her grief counselling group, having offered to drop her off. It had only been a few months since Matt died, but sometimes, the old Leigh shone back through and it made me feel hopeful that she'd make it through this.

"Thank you," she said genuinely, fingers wavering on top of the box, before she lifted her gaze to meet mine. "And thanks for the ride. You didn't have to."

I shrugged, thumb tapping the steering wheel mindlessly. "I don't mind. I just wanna make sure you get here okay."

She sighed, shaking her head, though a ghost of a smile was on her lips.

"Text me when you're done and I'll be happy to pick you up, too," I added casually.

"Thanks," she repeated, though didn't make a move to leave my car just yet. I didn't rush her.

Sadly, the silence was broken when my phone began to ring and my girlfriend's name flashed on the screen in my car where my phone was connected to. Glancing at Leigh, I just about made out the eye-roll she did.

"Sorry," I apologised, before declining the call instantly.

"Why d'you do that? Could've been urgent," she said with a clipped tone.

Oh, no, I thought. Whenever she used that tone, it meant she was picking a fight.

"I'm here with you," I said like it was obvious, hoping that one thing didn't ruin the moment.

She tensed her jaw, looking down as her hair fell around her face. "Whatever."

Before I could think of a way to make her feel better, the screen lit up again and my ringtone echoed through the car. I winced at the glare Leigh sent to the screen. If looks could kill, my car would be toast.

Declining the call, I looked to her worriedly. "What's wrong, Leigh?"

Her glare fell to me. "Why the hell do you keep declining it? She's calling you for a reason."

I raised my eyebrows. "Because I'm here with you? Alex can wait. I'm taking you to grief group."

"Well, I'm here at grief group," she mocked, turning to face me with an unexplainable frustration.

I didn't understand why she was so touchy all of a sudden. The car ride here, she'd been fine. Just a moment ago, she'd been fine. But now... now she was acting unreasonable.

My phone buzzed in my pocket suddenly, followed by a tone that signalled I had a text. Leigh smiled bitterly, rolling her eyes.

"Let me guess," she muttered. "It's her."

Still very much unable to keep up with her mood swings, I didn't answer. Her gaze snapped to mine as she stared at me with disbelief.

"Why the fuck aren't you checking it?!"

I grimaced, my own exasperation slipping out when I blurted, "I'm a little confused to what you want from me right now, Leigh!" Breathing out slowly, I said, "I'm sorry if this is bothering you. I'll turn off my phone next time."

As if I'd deeply offended her, she raised a brow incredulously. "Are you kidding me? Why would this bother me?"

Okay, I was extremely confused now.

"I don't know," I admitted, bewildered.

"Is that what you think of me? Some clingy bitch who won't let you live your life?"

I widened my eyes. "What?! Leigh! I never said–"

"Sorry if taking me is such a task," she said abruptly, moving to put the box of doughnuts on the dashboard.

"I never said that," I told her sternly.

"You didn't have to. I know already. I'm just a burden on everyone."

She got out of the car and slammed the door shut behind her. Meanwhile, my confusion was still trying to make out what the hell just happened.

"Don't bother picking me up," she said through the open window of the passenger's door. A scowl was on her face as she added, "You should go spend time with Alex. She's probably missing you."

Breathing out, I leaned back into my seat and watched her walk away and to the entrance of the building. When she acted like this – so push and pull with her emotions – I was so conflicted. What could possibly be going on in her mind that she managed to flip everything that just happened? A complete 180?

Knowing she'd just need some time to cool off, I shook my head and focused on leaving. But then I remembered my phone went off and pulled it out to see what was so important. Aside from two missed calls from Alex, I saw I had a voicemail, too, not a text.

Grumbling fo myself, still disgruntled by Leigh's attitude, I raised the phone to my ear to have a listen, whilst hoping it wasn't actually anything life-threatening.

At first, all I could hear was some very faint laughing and vague noises, kind of like material rubbing together and breathing. I assumed Alex had left me a voicemail without even realising since I'd done that countless of times to other people, having dropped my phone in my bag without realising it was still on. But then the noises became more distinct and I made out words.

"Jake, stop messing about," a voice said, whom I instantly recognised as my girlfriend.

I furrowed my brows. Jake? Jake as in the guy she worked with Jake?

"If you stop teasing me then maybe I will," a gravelly yet devious voice responded.

My throat went dry when I heard more laughter before it went quiet. It didn't take a genius to understand what was happening, especially when the moans that followed echoed in my ear, begging me not to forget.

Unable to listen anymore, I hung up and threw my phone onto the passenger's seat. Tears welled in my eyes as I glanced over at it hesitantly, almost wishing it hadn't even existed. And as much as I didn't want to accept the glaring fact, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

She was cheating on me.

[s-brant]

Cherry Bowl (3/8)

(gif: @kiekiecarrera) (PART TWO) (PART FOUR) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: When Kie cancels their plans together, Y/N asks JJ on a date to the Cherry Bowl Drive-In. Unsure of how to navigate his first ever date, JJ seeks out advice. Unfortunately, the night doesn’t go as planned, and both parties are left shaken by miscommunication.

Word Count: 10.6k

Warnings: Smut, public sex/exhibitionism, sexual choking, angst, depictions of mental illness, post-traumatic stress disorder, and implied/referenced abuse.

A/N: Welcome back to Tokens! Slight trouble in paradise is brewing for these two lovers, so buckle up and read because it’s gonna be a rollercoster for a little while after what happens in this chapter. I hope you all like it, and if you did, feedback is very appreciated. Have fun!

"I'm just saying that oatmeal raisin is superior to chocolate chip, why is that such an egregious crime, Kie?"

The lunch room is filled to the brim with students going to town on questionably cooked frozen foods, soggy tater tots, and sugary drinks from the vending machines despite the Obama-era posters on the walls advocating for healthier school lunches that never seemed to make their way to Kildare County High. The extent of their healthy lunches extended to a serving of overcooked canned green beans served with the worst slice of doughy pizza known to human kind, so it was sort of contradictory.

Y/N sits across the table from Pope and JJ, the latter of which being the one who launched into a full-fledged debate with Kiara about which type of cookie was better.

The clear cling wrap sits, unfolded, on the table with one of her stickers neatly placed on the back of it. As consolation for his epic loss yesterday at the beach, she paid an extra .75 cents to get him it when she arrived first to their shared lunch period—one of only two class periods they have together, the other being gym. He was still in line when she peeled a surfboard sticker off of her sheet and placed it at the center of the wrapped up cookie as if to remind him of her triumph over him in the waves.

"Thanks, hot stuff," he said, voice somewhat quieter despite the fact that hardly anyone was in the cafeteria with them. Then his smile dropped into an deadpan expression as soon as he saw her choice of sticker and looked back up at her. "You're never gonna let me live that one down, are you?"

"Never in a million years. I'll be gloating about it until I'm elderly."

"That's my girl."

The sound of the constant chatter surrounding them from at least two hundred other people drowns out the memories of yesterday that threaten to haunt her when she watches him debate with Kie. The mere recollection of their night in the back of the van has her reaching to pull the collar of her cropped tee up to assure that the hickeys remain hidden on instinct, and he catches the action out of the corner of his eye. It has him fighting a smile.

Kie quips, "Maybe on another planet, but, here, I think we can all agree chocolate chip is better, right Y/N?"

Y/N's eyes widen around a forkful of mushy "green beans" at the sound of her name being said bringing her from the depths of her memories.

Usually, she's quick to jump in and give her two cents on whatever stupid back and forth they're all having, but her mind was elsewhere. Unbeknownst to Kie and Pope, she was mentally reliving every second of getting fucked in the van last night, so her attention to detail when it comes to the Chocolate Chip vs Oatmeal Raisin case isn't all too sharp.

"Uhhh," she stops for a second, looking at the half eaten chocolate chip cookie in Kie's hand, "If I say chocolate chip is better, can I get a piece of it?"

Kie's face lights up at her words, and she's already pulling off a generous chunk of the baked good to hand off to her. The sound of a certain someone whose lap Y/N's legs are outstretched onto from beneath the table scoffing distracts her from the first bite.

"I know you prefer oatmeal raisin, you traitor," JJ says.

Their brunette friend's brows scrunch.

"Why is she a traitor?"

They try to keep from making any faces or giving anything away, but Y/N has to stifle the sound of her choking on her mouthful of cookie at the question. You'd think one of them came out and asked if they were dating or something with how she reacts, and she feels JJ squeeze her ankle in a non-verbal way of telling her to hold it together. It was her idea in the first place, yet he's a lot smoother with keeping it under the radar.

Under it all, the aspect of keeping it a secret does unnerve him to a degree. He doesn't think he'd be brave enough to communicate it, especially not when their relationship remains undefined, but the darker side of his mind wonders...

He shrugs, saying, "Cause we were friends first. Duh. Other than John B, I've known her the longest."

None of them stop to acknowledge the identical aches in their hearts at the mentioning of his name. They skip right over it like it never happened. After the funeral a few days ago, they've filled their quota on mushy-gushy sad talk for the next week and a half.

The real reason is something far more complicated than him having a claim staked on her loyalty through having the longest friendship. It's something tied up in days of slowly getting pulled into one another's worlds like the tug of gravity itself, in how he has to refrain from slipping his arm around her waist in the hallway or kissing her goodbye after a sleepover at the Chateau. But until she gives him the go-ahead, he won't let it slip to anyone.

Pope speaks up from beside him, "You literally met her twenty minutes before we did."

"Still counts. Technically, I did meet her first, so her betraying Team Oatmeal Raisin is enough to be tried for treason in Pogue Court."

"Pogue Court isn't a thing."

He crosses his arms after he pops the rest of the cookie into his mouth.

"It is now. You can be tried for treason for breaking the rules. Rule number one is that all Pogues have to admit oatmeal raisin is superior."

He's about to ball up the cling wrap to throw away later when the surfboard sticker catches his attention again. It's the same color as his board, which he'd like to think is a result of her being an evil mastermind that went out to get this sticker sheet for the sole purpose of teasing him, but he's the one who got her the sheet as a gift for her birthday, so he knows it was pure coincidence.

Last second, he peels the sticker away from the cling wrap and looks down to place it over the top of her yellow converse that were once a vibrant, paler color when Big John got them for her, but have since turned into an ugly mustard/dirt-dusted color they heckle her over.

"What are the other rules?" Y/N asks.

One of the hands holding onto where her feet are casually planted in his lap, something that they've done long enough that their friends won't see it as anything odd, slides down to caress the stretch of skin beneath the frayed hem of her dark jeans. Something she didn't know about him before whatever it is they have together started was that he constantly needs to be touching her. She can't say she doesn't love it though.

Pope answers, "The oatmeal raisin rule is not official"—a pointed glance at JJ—"But I'd assume the rest of the rules of Pogue Court would be no lying and no macking."

"So, basically you two break almost every rule except the oatmeal raisin one, and I lie," JJ says and turns to look at her, "How does it feel to be better than everyone, Y/N?"

"Pretty good, not gonna lie."

He keeps caressing little circles and tracing up and down her skin beneath the flared out pant leg of her jeans while he swipes his phone off of the table top without attracting the attention of their friends, who continue on to a new topic. She isn't too focused on what it is. She only picks up that it has something to do with a class they're in that's more advanced that hers, so she promptly checks out of the conversation.

Ever since John B died, she hasn't been performing too well in school. She tries, truly tries, but her mind outright refuses to absorb any of the information. When she reads her assigned reading, she hovers over the same paragraphs over and over until she shuts the book in a huff and hides it in her backpack again. Losing someone you love has a surprising amount of side effects.

Her phone buzzing in her hand brings her away from the impending cloud of doom that often accompanies any thoughts of John B, and when she taps in her passcode, her brother's birthday, a message bubble appears with a banner displaying JJ's contact name.

JJ (Derogatory) ur a good liar. prob could've fooled me if i weren't the one macking on u

Their eyes meet for a second across the table, then he watches her thumbs move to type a response.

Kief Princess Little do they know I break every rule now that I've switched sides on the cookie debate. Kinda impressive ngl.

JJ (Derogatory) triple threat, baby

JJ (Derogatory) thanks for the cookie btw

She smiles to herself, so wrapped up in their own world that she doesn't notice everyone in the room starting to pack up their stuff in anticipation of the bell that is due to ring any second now.

Kief Princess Had to repay you for last night somehow ;)

When she glances up to see his reaction, she watches his chest rise with a particularly large inhale, and he chews on the inside of his lip in thought.

JJ (Derogatory) strategically bringing up last night so i'm turned on in physics? ur an evil mastermind

Kief Princess I try.

Kief Princess Apparently whooping your sorry ass at surfing isn't the only thing I'm good at.

She hears him scoff.

JJ (Derogatory) first of all, ouch. second, u barely beat me

Kief Princess I'm happy to challenge you to a rematch. I have plans with Kie tonight, so I can't till this weekend. All it'll prove is that I am the rightful winner, but we knew that already.

JJ (Derogatory) what r the stakes this time

Kief Princess No sexual favors. If you beat me (fat chance) I'll formally rejoin team oatmeal raisin.

JJ (Derogatory) :( sex makes it more fun but i still accept those conditions

JJ (Derogatory) team oatmeal raisin needs u, even if ur a traitor

Kief Princess Why bet sexual favors if you're just gonna fuck me after anyway?

JJ (Derogatory) good point

The sound of the bell ringing echoes through the cafeteria, and they both pop their heads up from their phone screens to see everyone, including Pope and Kie, already packed up and raising from their seats to scurry off in the direction of their next classes. Meanwhile, their stuff is all bestrewn across the table, particularly JJ's belongings.

The sight of Kie walking away makes Y/N ask after her, "We're still on for tonight, right?

She stops with Pope's hand interwoven in hers. The look on her face when she turns would make you think she got caught doing something she wasn't meant to. Something like forgetting about the plans they made last week to watch Fear Street together. The Cherry Bowl Drive-In is premiering the first two movies as a double feature for the horror movie buffs of Kildare, so they decided to get tickets. Kiara shares a fondness of horror movies with her. Since gory movies make the boys squirm, though JJ pretends they don't, it's their own thing.

"Actually, Pope and I were gonna go to the beach. I'm sorry."

JJ knows she's more upset about it than she lets on, but Y/N simply gives the pair a smile that doesn't reach the eyes.

The sound of JJ behind her makes them laugh on their way out, diffusing the minor tension lingering in the air from the awkward encounter, "Use protection!"

After their friends offer them a goodbye, they gather their stuff quite leisurely, not really caring about being late.

It's something they've talked about before here or there: her feelings surrounding Kiara and Pope's sudden relationship. It's not as if she harbors any ill feelings for them, she doesn't, but the ripple effects of their pairing on the group, and more importantly the girls' own friendship, couldn't be clearer from her perspective. Between the missed hangouts, forgotten plans, and the convenient way she never seems to have time to hang out with her and JJ unless Pope is there too, it's been building up for a month now.

What makes it sting the most is how close her and Kie used to be. They didn't hit it off immediately the way she and JJ did as children until her thirteenth birthday when no one she invited showed up to the party Big John helped her set up in the yard of the Chateau.

She was the one who rallied the boys together to walk to ask their school friends from the year above to come hang out for an hour or two, promising a slice of the wonky-looking but delicious strawberry cake her and John B spent the morning crafting together. She can remember the sound of their high-pitched laughs and the cloud of flour that hung in the kitchen when they high-fived over the finished product like it was yesterday. In her heart, it was yesterday.

That night was when she fell in love with her friends, and that was when she first knew Kiara was her best friend. They wove friendship bracelets on each other that night and wore them for years until they withered away. No one had ever done something like that for her before. Not even JJ.

"You okay?"

Feeling his hand on her arm, slipping down to take her hand for a moment in the seclusion of the empty cafeteria, makes her glance up at him with a distinct sorrow washed over her features.

You know what? Screw this. Why should she be torn up over Kie and let it ruin her excitement for the double feature tonight? There's no way in hell she's letting her best friend ditching her for her boyfriend get in the way of her plans.

"Do you wanna go on a date tonight?" she asks him abruptly, then adds, "To the Cherry Bowl with me instead of Kie?"

The question sparks a pause in his mind, a halt of hesitation in which he worries about her avoiding having to answer what he asked, but he attempts to play it cool and not fuss over her outwardly. There have been times where being treated like that has made her feel suffocated, so he doesn't want to risk it. When she's ready, she'll talk about it, and if she takes too long and buries her feelings, then he'll intervene. For now, he tries to keep his face neutral despite the frown tempting his lips at her disappointment.

JJ looks around once more before throwing his arm around her shoulder to walk her out.

"You bet your ass I do."

What is a person supposed to act like on their first date that's not actually a date cause everything between them is the same, but kinda is a date because they called it one? If you ever find out, please find JJ and tell him because he has no clue.

Pope wasn't too much help in the Instagram group chat he made for it seeing as his and Kie's relationship is too fresh, John B isn't even alive, so he's out of service for advice unless there's Ouija Board he can borrow, and, thankfully, Kiara was his savior.

Their phones began blowing up as soon as he reached his class after lunch period ended. He couldn't under any circumstances let it be known that this mystery girl he had a date with was their friend, but thankfully Y/N already had the alibi of going to the Drive-In alone. All he had to do was make up a fake date scenario and get basic advice.

danknugstickiestickies added kiara-c and popeheyward to the groupchat

danknugstickiestickies named the group HELP ME

danknugstickiestickies i have a date with this chick i met on the beach when i was out with y/n last week. i need ur advice

His phone screen lit up with the notification that both of his friends were typing, signified with the three dot symbol bouncing in the bottom left corner as he thought it through. They couldn't possibly figure it out, right? They'd been careful, he'd been respectful of her wishes, and they'd been too busy together to notice anything new with them. He figured it would work. It was a risk, sure, but it was worth it to him. He didn't want to fuck this up with her.

Knowing her, she probably wouldn’t even treat it differently than any of their other hang outs. It's not like they haven't been romantic or sexual with each other. They've done everything but go out on an actual date, so why was he nervous?

kiara-c ummmm

popeheyward Yeah, I'm gonna need you to ELABORATE!!

kiara-c did hell freeze over? since when does jj maybank go out on dates??

danknugstickiestickies renamed the group hell froze over

kiara-c very funny, I'm laughing so hard 😐

popeheyward Do we know her?

danknugstickiestickies don't think u do. she moved here last week and hasn't enrolled in school yet. her name's steph

popeheyward What about Y/N though?

kiara-c ^^

JJ's chest muscles tightened with the question prompting a rush of anxiety that made his breathing feel slightly harder. He glanced up at his Physics teacher, who was essentially dozing off behind his desk with his hand in a bag of chips and an educational video on the projector as an excuse to not teach, and looked back down at his phone without the added stress of possibly getting his phone confiscated.

Pope's message might as well have been a sucker punch. Forget butterflies, he set a wasp’s nest loose inside of his stomach to tie it into knots and flip it every which way. His neglected textbook served as a prop for his phone to lean on as he set it down to think.

Did they know? As far as he was aware, they were getting away with it. No evidence, concrete or circumstantial, was there to prove it. At least the stress of the situation killed any chance of him being turned on by her reminder of last night in their messages. This shit was boner repellant of the highest degree.

He played stupid. Better to let them volunteer whatever information they had before he went in saying anything incriminating that they didn't already know. If anything would sour the experience of their first date, it would be him accidentally making their strange in-between relationship public behind her back.

danknugstickiestickies ?? what do u mean

Three dots bounced in the bottom left corner of his slightly cracked phone screen.

popeheyward ...

kiara-c I mean, you don't see it?

danknugstickiestickies see what

popeheyward I guess we were wrong, but all of us always thought you two had some feelings going on.

"You don't say?" JJ murmured sarcastically to himself under his breath. "Never crossed my mind, Pope."

danknugstickiestickies bro that's jb's little sister

kiara-c so?

danknugstickiestickies forbidden fruit? making john b roll over in his grave? do those ring a bell or am i speaking in tongues

He was already a proficient liar in real life, but, fuck, it was easy in text messages. There's no chance at deciphering facial expression or tone, just a plain message with no room to budge. Thank God he didn't do this in person with them. He could've survived, but it wouldn't have been as quick and painless as the group chat was.

kiara-c jeez, sorry

Pope didn't voice it, but he noticed something.

He looked up from his phone and stared off at the wall in thought in his AP European History class. It piqued his interest that JJ simply said she was off limits, forbidden fruit as he put it, but did not outright deny having feelings for her. In fact, he didn't even address the question. He made excuses for why he shouldn't have feelings for her, but he never said he didn't have feelings for her.

Kie did not notice. Not because she wasn't smart enough to either, but because she was too busy hiding her phone behind her backpack to think too deeply about it. Her teacher was one of those teachers that would flip shit if they saw a cell phone turned off and faced down on the desk, let alone being used by a student during a lesson.

In his classroom across the hallway, JJ bounced his leg up and down beneath his desk in an absentminded urge to release the built up energy the anxiety produced in an over abundance.

popeheyward Our bad then. Even John B thought y'all were sus lmao.

Since when was that a known fact? Could he tell? Did he talk to Pope about him and Y/N before he died? Either way, it wasn't the time to pry about it.

kiara-c yeah you guys honestly could've fooled me if you wanted to

danknugstickiestickies well thank u, glad ur invested in our friendship but

danknugstickiestickies please help, i have no fucking clue how to act on a date and this girl is too cool for me to screw this up

That was when they finally dropped the interrogation session and started offering up tips. The best ones came from Kie, which made sense to him since women are more likely to know what other women like than two dudes who share one collective brain cell and never had real relationships.

Rule One: Be ready to pick her up five minutes early.

He wasn't ready to pick her up five minutes early. His bike broke down by the time he made it halfway down his street, so he had to push it back up the road and into the yard before setting off on foot to reach the Chateau quickly enough. And by quickly enough, it means he got there five minutes late, not early.

Rule Two: Compliment her after you get in the car.

She tossed him the keys to the Twinkie from across the hood, not giving him the chance to open the door for her, and it wasn't until they were setting off down the road that he remembered the next piece of advice he was given.

Side-eyeing her in his peripheral vision, he tried to find something to compliment her on specifically rather than the general compliments about her being pretty that she never fully believes when he says them. He was intending to say something about the skirt she had on, but when he chanced a glance over at her, she caught him and asked—

"What is it?"

Sent into panic mode, JJ blurted out instead, "I like your shoes."

He could've bashed his face against the steering wheel twenty times right then and there at the utter absence of reaction on her part for the next few uncomfortable seconds. It wasn't that it was a bad compliment. She appreciates any compliments at all...but her shoes were hidden from his view. Not to mention, they were the dirty, mustard yellow converse that the Pogues bash on a daily basis.

She laughed, lifting her leg to expose the sneaker on her right foot, and asked, "These? Dude, you roast me for these all the time. You and John B said they look like Big Bird shit on them."

The skin on the apples of his cheeks scorched hot with embarrassment, and he was never so glad that the overhead lights in the van were burnt out until that moment. He would've died on the spot if she saw him blush like that, face flushed pinker than sunburn. All he could do to save himself was murmur something about the color growing on him and keep driving in the direction of the theater with his hands white-knuckling the steering wheel he fantasized about banging his face into.

Rule Three: Insist on picking up the check.

In this case, it meant insist on buying the popcorn and drinks, and he miraculously managed to drop his wallet somewhere along the way when he ran over to the Chateau, so when he stepped up to the makeshift concession stand with her standing at his side, he felt around for his wallet in his jeans to no avail.

His thoughts echoed back to him, You gotta be fucking kidding me. Seriously? Is this actually happening right now?

"JJ, it's honestly fine," she said softly as he leaned over to search back of the Twinkie for the wallet. "We can look for it on your street right now if you want. It has your ID and stuff, you don't want a stranger to have that. We don't need to stay—"

It took all of his control to not shout it in reaction when he said, "No way. You've been waiting for this, and Kie ditched you, so I ain't ditching you too. We're staying."

His wallet could go kick rocks.

He came too far to be dragged down by the old leathery piece of shit anyway. Would he go out and search for it tirelessly the second the date ended? Hell yeah, that fucker had twenty dollars and his debit card in it, but he couldn't bear the thought of abandoning her or ruining her anticipated movie night by taking her out to search the streets with their phone flashlights for a wallet they might not find. He'd wait till the movies ended, take her home, then haul ass around the Cut searching for it after.

Thankfully, he found a couple bucks crumbled up in his front pocket while she scavenged for coins in the glove compartment, and they came up with enough to buy a water bottle and small popcorn to share together.

Rule Four: Don't have sex on the first date.

And it may sound easy enough to not act like a complete Neanderthal for the length of two movies, but the girl makes it pretty damn difficult if he's to say so himself.

That's what led him here, laying in the back of the sideways-parked Twinkie in the farthest corner of the outdoor theater with her practically on top of him. In any other instance, he wouldn't be opposed in the slightest, but with the cursed fourth rule in mind, he isn't too thrilled with the feeling of her hand rubbing up and down his thigh.

It isn't even meant to be sexual. They're constantly touching one another this way. She'll even slip her hands up under his shirt just to feel the warmth of his skin or when he asks her if she can get an itch on a part of his back he can't reach, but for some reason his brain is short circuiting right now.

The thing is, when Kie and Pope said he shouldn't do it on the first date, they meant it for his and Steph's made up circumstances, not his and Y/N's full-blown relationship without labels. When you've had sex with someone as many times as they have with each other, the hesitancy on the "first date" is nonexistent. It doesn't matter. But JJ, trying to follow the advice given to him to the letter for the sake of being the date she deserves, doesn't think about it that way.

It shouldn't be this nerve-wracking. They've been best friends since they were children, they've been flirting since they found out what basic attraction was in the first place, and they've been forming this relationship ever since John B died. Why can't he relax? Why is this so different compared to how easy it felt between them yesterday on the beach or today at lunch?

Rule Five: Be yourself.

It takes him another few moments of laying here with her before he realizes quite abruptly what went wrong in a quick flash of a thought that brings the fifth rule back to him. The problem wasn't the bike, or the weird compliment about her Big Bird sneakers, or the lost wallet.

The problem is him. The problem is that he's trying way too hard to make this something it isn't. The part about them that he adores so dearly is how they never have to try when they're together. With any other girl or guy, they'd have to fake something or act a certain way, yet when they're together, they can simply exist and everything is runs smoothly. That's not to say they don't disagree or bump heads, they do, but short of those outlier moments, it's easier than anything else they do in life.

His eyes flicker away from the screen for the first time since the movie began, which, by the way, is gruesome enough at times that he had to divert his eyes to prevent himself from seeing it happen. They land on where she lays, completely content with the night in spite of its mishaps, with her head propped up on the pillows they brought from the Chateau.

He wonders if she can tell he's acting differently. Surely she must notice. She's the type of person that typically never misses a thing, perfect for the gold hunt they went on in the summer with picking up the clues and helping her brother unravel the mystery, so maybe she noticed how flustered this date has him. Does it bother her? Does he bother her?

With a confirming glance back up at the movie to see nothing important happening, he can't fight the urge to speak anymore.

"Can I tell you something?"

His voice appearing through the darkness of the shut off van after spending the past half hour in complete silence makes her jolt at first before realizing who it was. Though she loves horror movies, she can't claim to not be affected by them. The night she falls asleep after watching one, she often finds herself compelled to turn a light on and keep her feet from dangling off the edge of the bed. It's worth the fear, though.

When she turns to look at JJ, there's a warm smile on her face. She's cuddled into his side with a hand placed casually atop his thigh, caressing with no purpose or intent, and her movement halts when the light from the movie on the projector allows her to see the expression on his face.

Anxiety has become an increasingly significant presence in his life with the recent events in mind; John B and Sarah, the four-hundred million dollars they lost out on, and dodging his father whenever he sneaks home to switch out the backpack of clothes and personal belongings he keeps at the Routledge house.

It manifests itself in jittery nerves, stomach pains, shortness of breath, and, at worst, panic attacks striking either at random or in response to a specific trigger. It's one of the few things he still tries to hide from her, and she tries not to push him too hard with opening up about it.

She abandons the movie for the time being and rolls onto her side to face him, upper body propped up on her elbow as she examines his face with downturned features.

"Of course," she says.

The words left unsaid are, "You can tell me anything. Whenever you need someone to listen, or to talk to about shit, you can tell me." He's heard her say it enough that he doesn't need to hear it now to know it's true.

There's a pause, then—

"I feel like I fucked this entire date up," he starts to ramble and cuts her off before she can think about saying what she wants to, "and I know it's okay to you. You have way too high of a tolerance for my bullshit, and I've been trying so hard to make this perfect, but all that did was screw it up."

She's left quiet for a second, taking it all in.

Maybe if he hadn't been so anxious about it, he would've realized what was wrong with his bike when he rode it home from school, or he would've noticed his wallet fall out of his pocket. The point is, he wishes he hadn't let the label attached to this freak him out so much. He isn't sure why it does, but it does.

But she doesn't do what he expects. She isn't drowning him in reassurances and, "It's okay's" because she knows he doesn't care for them much. When he, the most stubborn person she knows, apologizes for something he did, he doesn't want it to turn into the person accepting the apology coddling him.

Y/N sighs.

"Is that why you've been acting so different all night? I scared you with the whole ‘date’ thing, didn't I? It doesn't have to be a date if you don't want it to be."

What she doesn't know is that he wants it to be a date. He wants it to be a date so badly, he risked Pope and Kie finding them out for the sake of getting some proper advice on it, and now he's caught up in the same game of tug and war in his mind that always occurs when he wants to tell her the truth about his feelings for her.

Part of him doesn't understand why he doesn't outright say it. With every other girl he once showed interest in, he had no issues in letting them know he wanted them, but this is different. This isn't simply wanting someone, he thinks he's fallen for her. But whenever he says he's gonna grow a pair and tell her after all this time, he chokes. Involuntarily, he's reminded of his parents. Other than his friends saying it platonically, the only people to tell him they loved him were them, and with how they treated him, he sure as hell doesn't think that is love.

From his dad's brutal physical abuse to his mom's abandonment, he's too timid to tell her he loves her because of what could happen if she loves him back. Everyone else that has said that to him has either hurt him, died like John B did, or abandoned him.

He won't let that happen with him and Y/N. What they have, albeit undefined and codependent, is safe. It's the only thing he has left. Maybe it isn't right, and maybe he should open up about it to communicate the correct way, but somewhere in the misshapen logic of his mind, he correlates love to abandonment. And he doesn't want that to happen with her.

There are two sides of him at battle inside his mind. One side, the side that wants to do right by their relationship and actually communicate his feelings for once in his life, wants him to tell her everything. The other side, the side that responds based on the history of his past, wants him to hide it all.

"Will you be mad at me if we don't call it a date?" he asks.

She shakes her head.

The heavy sensation inside of JJ's chest nears a point of vitriolic violence against him as he starts to realize what he's doing to her, clearly letting her down, but he can't stop himself. Like a passive witness watching himself from outside of his body, the instantaneous trauma response to the sudden confrontation of his true feelings for her guides his actions without his permission. It shuts down any protest he has.

The sound of the movie fills the gap of silence between them the entire time. It’s a variety of bloodcurdling screams and disgusting sounds that would've made him gag if he weren't as distracted.

They can make out each other's faces through the darkness, but barely. It takes a flash of bright color from the film or a nearby car's lights turning on for them to fully see one another. Without the other knowing, they both put masks of calm and collected coolness on their faces despite the feelings raging beneath the surface—more so on his part than hers.

"Maybe," he says, pausing, "we should just keep things the way they've been."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, a soul-crushing amount of disappointment weighs her down. She said it was fine if he doesn't want it to be a date—and it is, she would never hold it against him—but that doesn't mean it can't hurt her. Things have been going so well, she almost thought...If tonight went well, she was thinking about no longer keeping it a secret, but if he said he wants things to stay the same, then maybe he isn't as ready for it as she is?

Meanwhile, JJ is on another page entirely.

She's embarrassed of being with you, a familiar voice in the back of his head croons. She's gonna leave just like everyone else does. If she doesn't even wanna tell your friends, why should you pretend you're dating?

The internal comments are the type that cause him to physically grimace when he's alone. Intrusive thoughts are just that: intrusive.

Sneaking into the guarded sanctuary of a person's mind, they set out to convince them the opposite of their reality. The only thing is, where most people's minds are guarded sanctuaries with walls of impregnable defense, his mind is the equivalent of a fortress blown to smithereens. The castle walls lay in rubble, the guards no where to be seen, and the path for these thoughts to slip past and straight to the vulnerability of his mind is left wide open.

In the privacy of his room, these thoughts attack him the most at night when he tries to fall asleep—when things get too quiet. With nobody around, when they get this bad there's nothing he can do except break down. It builds from the mere anxiety of attempting to force the thoughts away to full-blown panic attack mode. The more he resists them, the more aggressive they become. He'll gasp for air with tears streaming down his face, hitting his head with the heel of his hand as if that'd do something to stop his relentless mind.

But he can't afford to react in front of her, so the extent of his reaction is a subtle twitch of his face that she cannot see in the momentary darkness before the movie switches to another scene a second later. In a way, it does make the thoughts go away to have her here preventing him from spiraling alone. Having to focus on her keeps his mind away for moments at a time until the thoughts ease their grip on him.

When she hasn't answered for a while, he asks, terrified that he did something bad, "Are we good?"

The question seems to wake her up, snapping her out of the lonely direction her thoughts went into when he "rejected" her. It takes every bit of common sense she has left to force herself to understand that this doesn't mean he doesn't want her. He does, and not calling this a date doesn't mean they won't be together in the way they have been since John B's death, but she isn't perfect. She gets as unsure and insecure as he does.

As if the cloud of doom was lifted off of her, she makes her face lighten where she lays on her side next to him. Seeing this expression makes his chest feel less heavy, and he could let out a sigh of relief at the realization that he didn't break her heart and stomp on it. He should've known. Y/N is the sweetest person he knows, so she never would've flipped shit over him not wanting to label this as a date. That's not how she is.

And he's partly right. It isn't how she is. She would never hold it against him if he didn't want something further with her since she got herself into this position by pursuing him with his reputation with girls in mind, but she can't ignore it. Whether she wants it to or not, it had its affect on her as soon as he said it.

She leans in to kiss him, their lips meeting in the middle with the faint taste of popcorn salt mingling at the soft peck.

When she pulls away, she brushes the hair back from his face and says, "Don't worry. Nothing can change how I feel about you."

She has no clue what it feels like to hear that from her.

Despite the turmoil they unknowingly share beneath the surface due to this conversation, he could cry hearing her say it. It doesn't feel real to him that she feels the same way he does about her, because nothing could change how he feels about her either. That’s why he manages to work up the courage to repeat it back to her, and, for now, this is the closest he's physically capable of coming to telling her the truth.

"Ditto," he says.

It isn't what she wanted, but it's close enough, and if she dwells on this any longer, she might start getting too emotional and let the urge to tear up become too strong. Why does she have to be this sensitive? It's no secret that it's remarkably easy to make her cry, but this is insane to her. When all of this began with him, she didn't give a shit about him not wanting a label. She understood him, and she understood that he doesn't do this kind of thing, so why has it changed? Why doesn't she want to keep it a secret anymore? Why does she want this to be a date when she knows he doesn't want it to be?

Pulled by an invisible string back to him to silence her mind, she leans in to kiss him again with a hand cupping the back of his neck to guide him the rest of the way to her.

It shouldn't be laced with any sexual intention. She should be kissing him simply because she wants to, and, in a way, she is. Their kisses and touches are never lacking the motivation that is their underlying connection and mutual feelings for one another, but this is not the same. As he kisses her back with as much confidence and passion as always, she is reeling from the conversation that reminded her too much of a breakup.

It takes another minute of this for the kiss to heat up, their breathing becoming shallower in the moments they part to inhale, and she is undeniably the one instigating when she officially crosses the line between casual and sexual by crawling onto his lap. It's not hard for him to pick up on when their innocent moments take a turn. She's easy to read in that regard, and this has happened a multitude of times with them, so the shift of a mini make out session turning into something more is nothing out of the ordinary for them.

If he knew how shaken she is on the inside, he'd never want this. And the same would go for her if she knew what he was thinking before this. Neither of them wants to admit what they're feeling.

With her legs seated on either side of his hips, she kisses him like it's the last time she'll ever get the opportunity to. Her hands wander wherever they can, pulling at his shirt and feeling him up as his hands guide her hips to move against his in a steady grinding that she has no issue partaking in. It's an eagerness he hasn't seen from her in weeks. She's never un-excited when it comes to being physical with him either, but this is another level. The last time a girl was all over him like this, it was desperate touron at a party a few months ago.

In the span of time it takes her to glance over her shoulder to see if anyone could see them and reach to pull her skirt up until it bunches around her hips—no one can see them, by the way, since they got here late and were forced to cram the van into the back corner of the lot with no street lights illuminating the path—his brows raise at her presumptuous behavior. Not that he's one to complain, however, seeing as he's typically the one doing what she is.

Their next kiss clashes their teeth hard enough to make them wince, but he loves it. It makes him smirk into her parted mouth, alive with both the feeling her reassurance provided and the fuzzy-headed high that often finds him when they're together in this way. Incomparable to past flings or the high related to any drugs, she is the peak of everything to him. It's no contest.

His chest stutters against hers with a bout of amused laughter, asking within a brief pause in what feels like the most JJ thing he's said this awkward night, "Two for two in the Twinkie. What's gotten into you?"

Y/N's hand dips between where their bodies move together to unclasp the closed buckle of his belt in one smooth motion that has it falling apart with a clinking noise.

Her features are set with a look that tells him she means business. Whatever it is that sparked this, he wonders how the fuck to make it happen again another time. She's begged for it before, but never taken control so dominantly, and he can't deny what the role reversal does to him. The evidence is obvious in the distinct hardness she feels pressing up against the hand undoing his jeans.

"I was hoping it'd be you," she says, voice breathless and airy from the constant contact in a way that makes it ten times hotter for him.

If there were any chance of him not being in the mood prior to this, which wasn't the case anyway, it's gone now. He never wants to hear her say she doesn't deliberately try to tease him ever again.

He doesn't need to be told twice.

JJ surges forward to capture her mouth with his, this time with no intention of pulling away to breathe or speak again. No, he'll let himself get lightheaded and dizzy if it means he can stay with her for as long as possible.

With the circumstances of it all, them being visible to someone if they happened to pass by the open door of the van, they move at a pace quicker than usual. She's immediately helping him shimmy his jeans and underwear far enough down his hips to free his dick from the confines of his clothes, making him sigh out a breath of relief when her hand brushes against him in the process.

There's no opportunity to slow down, it has exploded into a full-throttle speed race that neither of them can halt.

His hand blindly flies out beside him to grope the floor of the van for the set of keys he tossed carelessly to the side once the movie started, eyes shut in the midst of the hot, messy kiss they share. His fingers find the fabric of one of the blankets they brought in case they got cold, then drifts again and lands on her Big Bird sneakers until he feels the sharp metal of her keys meet his calloused palm.

After the events of last summer, she bought a switch blade to keep on her key ring alongside the keys to the van, HMS Pogue, and Chateau. She may not like violence or weapons, seeing as she was a skeptic of JJ keeping the gun alongside her friends, but she saw it necessary. Between Rafe, Topper, and Kelce, how could she leave the safety of her and her friends up to chance knowing what some of the kooks did to them not long ago? What happened to Pope on the golf course alone was enough to make her skin crawl.

Right now, though, the knife flips out from the pressure of his thumb pushing the button to release it. He holds it out away from her at first to assure it doesn't nick her in the process, then uses his other hand to tug the side of her panties that hugs her hip far out enough to press the sharp side of the blade onto the inside of it.

She can hardly believe what she's watching as JJ cuts the delicate maroon underthings from her body as if he were doing something so normal, like it's something he's done before. Her forehead is pressed against his, her mouth parted both in shock and in a need to pant for oxygen, and she watches the knife ruin her favorite panties. The stitches come apart with a satisfying ripping noise that can hardly be heard over the sound of people reacting to the movie in the background.

Other customers of the Cherry Bowl Drive-In are too glued to the screen as a beloved character is chased down, reacting in shouts when she's seized by the killer and shoved onto the table of an industrial bread slicer, so they remain wholly unnoticed.

The lace, now ripped in half, dangles on the tip of the knife when he lifts it away from her, tosses it aside, and presses the button once more to retract the blade. It clatters to the floor, but is in no way forgotten with them resuming in a desperation to keep going until they both satisfy the need clawing at them from the inside. But her sense of need is different from his, and even with the fresh memory of him with the switch blade in mind, she's still somewhere else the whole time.

Her mind is faraway, muted through layers of sadness, anger, and disappointment as he reaches between them to line himself up to her entrance. The sensation of him running his cock, hard and messy with a few drops of precome, through her dripping pussy to coat it in her slick arousal is enough to make her moan pathetically. Yet when he's about to guide himself inside of her, she stops him.

"Wait, wait, wait," she breathes out rapidly, heart pounding so hard she can feel herself pulsating between her thighs, "Condom."

They were so antsy to get to it, they almost forgot.

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, and his eyes flicker from where they were trained between their bodies to glance back and forth around the van before it hits him. "I lost my wallet..."

But right when he thinks their public rendezvous in the back of the Drive-In is over due to his unfortunate mistake, she shakes her head and slips away from her perch astride his lap to crawl over to her bag.

She fumbles with the old tote bag and plunges her arm in to sift through the hodge podge of things that are purely Y/N in nature—stickers, glitter pens, a half-eaten bag of candy, etc—for the square foil package she decided to toss in before she left just in case. She usually doesn't keep them on her because he never fails to have one, but, thankfully, she had the random instinct to bring it tonight.

The only thing to bring her out of her cloudy, malevolent storm of feelings when she settles back onto his lap with the condom wrapper ripped open for him is him saying, "So you planned this, huh?" with his mouth tipped in a familiar self-satisfied grin.

She didn't plan it. In fact, she threw herself at him the second she sensed him withdrawing from her and can't stop herself despite the fact that she constantly feels two seconds away from letting a tear slip down her cheek. If that counts as "planning it", then sure.

"Maybe so," she answers, cool, calm, and collected—the antithesis of the truth.

They usually don't lie to each other.

They're thrown right back into it without any other hiccups once he rolls the condom on, and he takes in a shaky breath at her hand wrapping around him to align their bodies up. Before she can do anything, though, he takes chance to swipe the blanket he found a moment ago and wrap it around her back to keep her covered in case they get caught.

Y/N sinks down onto his cock with her lip caught between her teeth to stifle the sound that threatens to escape. JJ, on the other hand, doesn't bother concealing the sound of the groan he makes at the sensation of having her wrapped around him like this. The tension in her entire body from the anticipation and the looming threat of being seen by someone has her squeezing him so tightly, he can't help but be a little louder than he should.

Her soft palm slaps over his mouth with enough pressure to force his groan to quiet itself, and she watches his pretty blue eyes widen in reaction to the dominant action. Who is this girl and what has she done with his sweet, submissive Y/N? Don't get him wrong, he is very turned on by it, but it's unlike her to take the lead this way. He can't figure it out.

"What's wrong, angel?" she asks in a whisper into his ear, her hand over his mouth and her hips starting to slowly rock against him, "Watch the movie."

Once the words leave her mouth, she drops her hand, just in case he wants to stop and can't say anything because she had his mouth covered, and JJ is pretty sure he's died and gone to heaven.

He doesn't watch the movie, not at all, because he's too busy watching her. For someone losing their mind internally, she does not let it show, nor does she let it distract her from what's happening. If anything, the distraction in this situation is the sex, not what's going on inside of her head.

There's a moment of adjustment and going as slowly and gently as possible while waiting for the dull pressure of feeling him inside of her to fade away, but, for the most part, she doesn't waste any time. As soon as she feels comfortable enough with the ache between her thighs giving way to a spark of pleasure when she grinds her clit down on his pubic bone, she starts to ride him at a better pace than the initial slow movements of her hips.

She raises herself up and takes him again inch by inch, enjoying the sense of fullness she gets from having to fit him in spite of the slight discomfort at first, and she could swear that he'll leave bruises in the shape of his handprints with how tightly he clutches her hips. It's all he can do to prevent himself from moaning or saying something, ever the vocal lover she's come to know.

Unless his mouth is preoccupied like it was on the beach yesterday afternoon, JJ is usually impossible to shut up, especially in this context. With him always whispering dirty things to her, whether it be praises, pet names, or plans on what he wants to do to her, she has come to find it breathtakingly hot. He could likely get away with saying something if he wanted to, but he isn't sure he wants to risk it. If he opens his mouth to spew something filthy to her, he won't trust himself not to make a louder, different kind of noise that won't fit in the with background audio the other moviegoers are listening to.

The wet sound of their bodies colliding that fills the space of the van is drowned out by the loud and violent sequence occurring on the screen far ahead of them, and hearing it makes her bounce herself on him a little harder. She's fueled on by it all, and, strangely, what happened before she practically pounced on him is the main contributor.

Similarly to the nature of his intrusive thoughts, the harder she resists the memory of how it felt when he told her he didn't want this to be a date, the more forceful it is in its return. Her eyes trail down to watch where they connect with her forehead pressed to his, then she's thrown back into the feeling of helpless disappointment and insecurity. His head tips back against the window with his bottom lip dropped open and his brows furrowed just enough to create a crease on his forehead, and she's bombarded with the look of relief on his face when he realized he didn't have to be tied down to her with a label.

It makes her want to get rougher, harder, and she doesn't even care if it'll make her sore later on. She presses herself down so far every time she slides down on his cock, her teeth draw blood on her lip with how hard she must bite it to remain quiet. The pain of her hipbones rubbing against his doesn't even matter to either of them at this point. They're both too lost in the pleasure that has begun to take control of them to care about something as minuscule as that, or the burn in her thighs from the repetitive physical strain.

She grabs his wrist and brings his hand between them, flattening hers overtop of it and pressing down on the base of her abdomen in the midst of the increasingly feverish thrusts.

"Feel you here," she murmurs to him through a quiet moan, hoping he can hear it over the movie, and pushes down on his hand for emphasis. And if the way he reacts by cursing under his breath tells her anything, it's that he picked up on it. "JJ..."

He reaches out to grab her by the throat with his free hand and tug her forward to kiss him, as if something inside of him snapped in response to her doing that. The motions of her jolting up and down throws the already messy and uncoordinated kiss off-kilter, but they don't mind. It has them separating every time she lifts up, producing this heady little head rush from from them breathing in each other's air without actually letting their mouths meet in the middle.

Though they're trying their hardest not to alert anyone outside of what's happening, it didn't occur to him until now, when his eyes catch John B's old bandana swinging back and forth where it's secured around the rear view mirror.

They're worried about moaning while the entire fucking Twinkie is rocking with their movements. Well, at least it makes good use of the corny sticker he gifted John B last year as a gag gift. He tried to peel it off after JJ snuck it onto the side window to no avail. So, now Y/N is stuck with a sticker on her car reading, "If the van's a-rockin', come on in, we like orgies," rather than the more common phrase.

It almost makes him start laughing, and he prays no one takes that shit seriously, 'cause he is never intent on sharing this breathtaking girl. Ever.

Y/N isn't anywhere near laughing like he is, in fact, she's finding it difficult to keep herself together. She feels her eyes sting with the promise of tears, and she's never felt so pathetic before. Is she seriously about to cry during sex? Is she really that girl that is so ill-equipped to handle rejection, she can't get through it without tears?

She won't cry. Perhaps if he sees how glossy her eyes have become in a rare moment of good lighting, she can blame it on the hand around her throat putting pressure on the sides of her neck.

The worst part about her being near to crying is the timing of it.

The emotion of what she feels mentally mixes with the swirling, building sensation she feels in the pit of her stomach that tells her she's close to going over the edge, and it's so overwhelming. Was she imagining that their friendship had changed? More importantly, is this all she'll ever be to him? Sex is the only thing she's sure of with him, it's the only thing that doesn't require deeper emotions, and when the ground beneath their fragile relationship felt shaky...

He can feel her starting to unravel, and he knows that he'll come before she does if he doesn't do anything now, so he decides to take control.

JJ pulls the hand he had resting on her abdomen away as though he were burned by it, wrapping his arm around her waist to steady her body against his and using the hand around her neck for leverage to thrust up into her, effectively reducing her to a teary-eyed, moaning mess atop him. They both stopped caring about making noise the second he began to fuck her like this.

She cries out in ecstasy at the sudden change in pace and depth that has him hitting all the right places. Every time he thrusts up into her, just as rough as she wished for, the tip of his cock nudges into that perfect spot inside of her that makes her incapable of silencing her moans. This time, it's JJ that puts his hand over her mouth, letting the one he had around her neck move away to keep her from alerting everyone around them of what's happening.

There's nothing she can do to stop her climax as it barrels through her in its initial sweeping wave of bliss to contrast the venomous doubts in her mind. She's never felt such conflicting, yet powerful feelings before—the intensity of the physical pleasure that makes her whine into the palm of his hand, then the part of her mind replaying every word he said in their conversation before this.

Her body is rigid and tense through it all, squeezing down around his cock with the involuntary spasms of her orgasm, and he can't help himself anymore. All it takes are a few more frantic thrusts for him to bury himself inside of her one last time and spill into the condom, uncovering her mouth so he can drown out his own groans into a kiss.

Their skin sticks to their clothes on the inside with sweat from the exertion of their actions, and he can feel her stomach tremble where it presses up against his with each undulation of her hips that meet his as he rides it out.

But even with the added distraction of the sex, she can't rid herself of the feeling that started plaguing her as soon as things went awry. That was why he was acting weird all night. He must have been so worried about her thinking this was anything more than their typical hangouts that he couldn't bring himself to act normally.

She forces herself to look happy when they pull away from the kiss, panting, and JJ, unaware of what she's been thinking, doesn't notice the small deception.

Tag list: @gabiatthedisco

[spencers-dria]

Do You Trust Me?

Someone To Stay Ch. 6

Spencer x fem reader

Y/N POV:

*whack*

You smack your alarm as it goes off for the third time this morning. You look at the clock: 7:15AM. Was it later than you get to sleep in for work? Sure. Did you want to get up this early on your day off? Nope. Between JJ being the planner and Penelope's excitement for the weekend, they had convinced the the group that it would be best to get an early start. It was a several hour drive the to the lake, and they wanted to make the most of our time there.

You roll out of bed and look in the mirror. Sweats and a spaghetti strap tank...this will have to do. You leave your hair in the messy bun that you slept in. Half asleep, you fumble around for some socks and slip on some sandals. A horrific choice you know, but we're going for comfort here, not fashion. It'll be fine. You're not trying to impress anyone, and you'll fix yourself up once you get to the lake. You fully intend to nap part of the way there. You don't even bother to grab breakfast. Instead, you grab your bags you packed the night before and head downstairs. Spencer is probably waiting on you already.

You see him pulling the car up, right on time, as you make your way down the stairs. You slide into the passenger side, setting your bag down in the back seat. Reaching into a road trip bag in your lap, you pull out a blanket and pillow and curl up in your seat.

"Good morning sleepyhead" he chuckles. "Not a morning person, huh?"

You grin. "What gave it away?"

He hands you a paper bag and a coffee cup.

"Don't worry, it's green tea and honey" he reassures you, sensing your hesitation.

"I also got you a bagel."

"I don't know who's been giving you trade secrets but food is really the number one way to win me over." You glance over to see a slight smirk on his face. "How are you so awake? You had time to get ready, grab food, drive to my apartment, and you still seem more awake than I do."

"I'm kind of used to not getting much sleep." He shrugs this off as if it's nothing. You sense he doesn't intend on explaining any further, so you decide not to push him.

"I brought some snacks too. You're welcome to anything you'd like." You pull out a some goldfish, fruit gummies, and Capri suns.

He responds with a laugh.

"Ok you have the appetite of a ten year old."

You feel embarrassed for a moment until you see the smile he's giving you.

"It's cute though."

You find yourself blushing, not used to compliments. "Yeah I guess sometimes I just like to let loose, let my inner child out. Not everything has to be so serious all the time, ya know? What we do, both of us...it's stressful stuff. Sometimes eating whatever the heck I feel like helps with that. If that means chocolate milk and cocoa crispies cereal for dinner then so be it!"

Spencer gives you another smile before holding his hand out. "Alright, you won me over. I'll take a Capri sun."

You can't help but laugh as you watch him try to insert the straw with one hand and drive with the other. After awhile you decide to help him out.

"Here, let me see that." You fix the straw and hand him back the drink. "Goober" you laugh as you rolls your eyes at him.

"So what all are you planning on doing at the lake this weekend?" He asks.

"The question is...what am I NOT going to do?"

"Ugh." He rolls his eyes and laughs. "No fair. You're athletic, coordinated. You can actually do all the fun stuff."

You turn to face him with an incredulous look on your face, jaw dropped. "You're kidding me right? Me? Athletic? That's funny!" You laugh shaking your head. "Nahh I'd say we're on a level playing field. I'm not coordinated at all! I just like go have fun, try adventurous things. Like kayaking, I'm just mediocre but I still love doing it. The only sport I ever did was swimming."

"Ha! You were a swimmer, we're going to a lake, and you think we're on a level playing field?"

"Ok fair enough" you concede. "Will you at least try something new this weekend? Please?" You bat your big brown eyes at him, a technique that rarely failed you.

He feigns a look of annoyance, before a smile finally starts teasing at the corner of his lips. "Alright, alright." He throws his hands up in surrender. "But only if you help me with whatever it is we do. A swimmer and a nurse, you're practically our lifeguard for the weekend. Don't let me drown, ok?" He teases.

"Well since you asked so nicely." You give him a playful punch in the arm as you both laugh.

After a brief moment of silence you hear Spencer speak up. "Did you know that Michael Phelps is the most decorated Olympian of all time, winning 28 medals in total, 23 of those being gold medals? He swam in his first Olympic Games at only 15 years old, and won his first gold medal at 19. And you...already knew this didn't you?" He stops when he sees your eyebrows raised, giving him a slight smirk.

"Yeah Spencer" you smile, shaking your head at him. "I don't mind though. I like hearing all the cool stuff you know."

You spend awhile listening to Spencer talk about everything from Olympic swimming facts to CPR statistics and the origin of the different swimming strokes. A lot of it you don't know already, and you enjoy learning all of this stuff from him. After awhile, you unintentionally drift off to sleep.

He looks over and smiles, he doesn't mind. This happens to him quite often, and the fact that you encouraged him to share his knowledge gives him comfort. He reaches over and pulls the blanket over your shoulders. Hoping to drown out the sound of the highway, he puts on some classical music at a low volume.

You wake up a couple hours later as you hear the loud sound of gravel under the tires.

"Morning sunshine" he grins at you.

"Oh I'm sorry! I wasn't going to make you drive the whole way."

"It's ok, you got your rest. Better you be rested up and have fun today than stay awake just to drive."

"Thanks Spencer." You smile to yourself. He really was very sweet. Good friends are hard to come by, especially ones you can trust that will stick around. You secretly hope that Spencer doesn't plan on dropping you as a friend anytime soon.

You climb out of the car and take a look around. You've arrived at a modest log cabin, sitting right on the edge of the lake. It's surrounded by y'all trees, so thick that you can't see any buildings anywhere else, if there are any. You stand there for a moment taking it all. You lean your head back and close your eyes, enjoying the sounds and smells of nature. It felt like home. You grab your bag out of the backseat and make your way along a dirt path toward the cabin. You stick yourself hand out by your side, brushing the leaves on the trees as you walk by.

"You really are in your element here, huh?" you hear Spencer call out from behind you.

"Oh you have no idea. Just wait till I get in the water" you shout back over your shoulder.

The two of you make your way into what appears to be the common living room. The cabin appears to be completely wooden everywhere, floors, ceilings, walls, beams. There's rustic decor and lots of plaid, but it's done tastefully. It feels so cozy, and you love it.

"Y/N! You made it! We're in here!" You see Penelope's head pop out of a doorway. You enter a room to find two sets of bunk beds. Penelope and Alex have taken bottom bunks. JJ has her stuff placed on the top bunk above Alex. You set your suitcase in an empty corner and throw your pillow on the bed above Penelope. You feel her sneak up and pull you into a tight hug. "Hey bunk buddy! This weekend is going to be so fun!"

"I'm surprised Penny, the outdoors don't seem like your type of weekend."

"Oh don't worry honey! I brought a float with coasters and a tray for the lake! I'll be sipping on wine and tanning all weekend."

"Just make sure to wear sunscreen okay." You give her a nudge and a smile.

"Okay Nurse Y/L/N." She rolls her eyes and laughs.

"Don't worry! I brought enough sunscreen for everyone."

"Haha, of course you did Aunt JJ."

You look over to see her unpacking her suitcase and organizing her things in the drawers and closets. You decide to do the same, that way it will be easier to find all your things later. After you've all finished unpacking, Alex says she's going to take a quick nap. After getting ready in your swim wear and coverups, you, Penelope, and JJ wander over to the guys room to see what they're up to.

You peek in to see Spencer reading on the bunk above Hotch, who appears to be on a FaceTime call with his son, Jack. Rossi isn't in the room. He's probably already started organizing things in the kitchen. Derek looks like he's ready for the lake, already in swim trunks and rubbing on sun tan lotion.

"You need any help with that, hot rod?" Penelope jests.

"You know it mama."

At this response, Penelope runs quickly across to room and helps Derek to finish rubbing in the suntan lotion on his back. She looks to be enjoying it a little too much.

You and JJ stay leaning in the doorway, laughing.

You finally speak up. "I don't know about y'all, but I've been stuck in a car all day! So if you need me, I'll be out at the lake!"

"I'm right behind, ya." JJ turns to follow you.

At this, Spencer finally pops up from behind his book. "Oh umm, we're going outside now? What are you going to do?"

"I don't know yet Spencer, come with us and we'll figure it out."

You wait on him while he changes into some swim trunks and a t shirt. He stands in the doorway a bit awkwardly, hesitant to leave the cabin.

"Come on!" You grab his hand pulling him out onto the porch and down toward the lake, following behind JJ, Penelope, and Derek.

When you get to the waters edge, you see the group has already spotted a rope swing. Derek appears to be climbing into a position to jump from. JJ stops him, to test the integrity of the rope first.

Penelope watches as Derek effortlessly climbs up the rocks. "My monkey man" she smirks.

Once JJ seems satisfied that the rope won't break, Derek swings out over the water, doing a back flip before making a splash in the water that sprays everyone watching from the shore. A chorus of groans rings out, half from annoyance at the show off, half from not wanting to get splashed.

You remove your shoes and your coverup as you prepare to get in the water. You can tell Spencer is making a conscious effort to avert his gaze. You blush, suddenly remembering the girls' previous comments about how good you looked in the slick back two piece.

You quickly make your way up the rocks and grab onto the rope as it swings back towards you. Spencer gives you a concerned look.

"Are you sure you want to do that? You could get hurt!" He shouts up at you.

Instead of answering you give him a quick smirk. You back up and get a running start for momentum, holding onto the rope as you swing out over the water. You let the momentum push you out as far as it will take you, as you angle your arms and body to dive deep into the water, just like you used to off the starting block in swimming. As you feel your body dive down into the water, you angle back up and do a quick, few dolphin kicks, propelling yourself much further from the shore. When you finally surface, you're about 20 or so meters from the shore. You see the group staring at where you dove into the water, confused and concerned.

"Over here guys!" You shout at the group to get their attention. They look up to see you much further away than they expected.

"Hey, you weren't kidding!" Spencer laughed.

"We might have to have ourselves a little competition little miss mermaid!" You laugh at Derek's new nickname for you.

You do a few strokes to bring you back to shore as you climb out of the water. You slick your hair back out of your eyes as you wring your hair out.

"Alright Spencer! Your turn!"

You giggle as you grab his hand and drag him towards the rocks.

"Umm yeah this is definitely not a good idea. You clearly know what you're doing, but I will definitely hurt myself. Did you know that drownings are the third leading cause of unintentional deaths?"

"Stop being such a party pooper! Loosen up a bit. Now climb." You cross your arms giving him a look that lets him know you mean business.

"If you fall, your knight in shining armor, Y/N will catch you!" Derek shouts from his spot where he's swimming in the lake. JJ and Penelope are watching from a float shaped like a giant unicorn. Typical Penny.

"Shut up, Derek!" Spencer shouts back at him.

You can tell that he's actually nervous, and not just unwilling to participate, so you decide to climb up after him.

"How about we go together?" You smile at him.

"Can we do that?" He asks, clearly not believing you.

"Yeah! See how there's a plank of wood on the bottom here? There's room for both of us to stand. And then we just hold onto the rope. We'll back up to get some momentum, then right when we get to the edge, we'll hop on the rope ok. But make sure to let go before it swings back towards the rocks."

The look he's giving you says he still doesn't think this will work.

You take his hand in yours, giving it a quick squeeze. "Do you trust me?"

You see the anxiety wash away as he's overcome by comfort. "Yeah, I do actually" he smiles, squeezing your hand back.

"On three okay? One...two...three!"

Before you know it, the two of you are landing in the water. You both come up for air as he starts a splash fight with you. You're both giggling and splashing like little kids, but having the time of your life. You feel water peg you in the back of the head. You turn around to see Hotch and Rossi armed with oversized water guns, peeking out from behind the trees on the shore.

"Hey that's not fair! We're unarmed!" You shout at the two men.

"Come join our team!" Rossi yells back. You and Spencer look at each other confused. You look up to see Alex carrying four water guns out to the water toward Derek, JJ, and Penny.

You and Spencer turn to each other, each with a huge grin. "Oh it's on!" You say.

"It's so on!" he replies before you both make your way onto shore as quickly as possible. Hotch and Rossi hand you each a weapon and the war commences.

After a long fight, the team in the lake finally surrenders. Your team is the clear winner.

"Winner's get dinner first!" Rossi shouts before the four of you make a mad dash for the cabin. You grab your towel, guessing that Alex had laid it out for you, as you see the other ladies' towels laid out as well well. Rossi had the dinner on warmers, so it's all ready for you. As the four of you take your plates full of food to the dining table outside, you pass your opponents. A series of snickers and goofy faces ensues as your team teases them endlessly.

You felt so comfortable around all of them. For people with such serious jobs, they sure do know how to let loose and have fun.

A/N:

I hope everyone is still enjoying it! I know it's a slow burn but it's so cute right 🥰I plan on picking up right where we left off! Please reblog or comment if you liked this chapter! I love hearing feedback!

[thewalkingfanfictions]

Softly, Barely a Whisper -- Daryl Dixon x fem!reader (part one)

Softly, Barely a Whisper — Daryl Dixon x fem!reader (pre apocalypse) (part one)

Part One/ Part Two/ Part Three

Description: (Name) moved in with her uncle, the Sheriff of a little town in Northern Georgia, to escape an abusive household. While living with her uncle, she meets Daryl, a redneck with a heart of gold and a life very similar hers. Fluff and angst and awkward shy Daryl Dixon ensue.

⚠Warning⚠: great amounts of bad language, past mentions of abuse, past mentions of rape, there's probably more, this'n's kinda a mess. Don't read if you get triggered easily.

Genre: angsty fluff?? Hurt/comfort?? I've no idea. Is awkward Daryl a genre?

Pairing: teen!Daryl Dixon x teen!fem!abused!reader

A/N: hey, sorry I've been gone for forever, I suck at commitment. I also suck at naming things, hence the title. I wrote another long motherfucker of a "oneshot" and therefore am breaking it into chapters like I did with Impromptu Cuddles, so look out for the other chapters soon enough. Enjoy.

Words without A/N: 3242

<—————————————>

"Sure thing, Daryl. You can use whatever ya'd like, just make sure you put it back afterwards. The doors unlocked and yer more than welcome to go in for a drink or anythin' if ya need it." Bill Coleman, or Sheriff Coleman, as most knew him by, called out as he moved to open the door to his cruiser.

The Sheriff was an interesting character to the youngest Dixon. He had hardened features and a voice like a gravel truck that immediately implied a harsh disposition, his eyes were constantly squinted into a look that resembled judgment, and the vibe he gave off was just generally unpleasant; but, in all reality, Bill Coleman was probably the gentlest man Daryl had ever met. He understood the workings of the Dixon household without ever having to be told, and did what he could to make life any bit easier for the teenager. Whether that be arresting the senior Dixon whenever he found possible, or offering Daryl a place to stay in his home over the weekend. Bill was, all in all, a genuinely kind human being. Something, Daryl found, was rather rare in his life.

But, even though the Sheriff had his trust, and he knew the Sheriff trusted him the same, it still came as a bit of a shock to him to see the officer willingly let him, a Dixon, have open access to his house while no one else was home.

Everyone knew not to trust a Dixon. Nobody in the town was willing to make eye contact with him, let alone trust him to their house and belongings while they were away. Will, his father, had done a fine job of destroying the family name in his drunken escapades, and his brothers addictions did nothing to help. This, combined with the confusion and disbelief that coursed through his system, explained the gawk the boy's eyes held as he stared in awe at Mr. Coleman's retreating figure.

This had to be some kind of trick, right?

"Oh," the Sheriff called. There it was, the part where he'd laugh it off and say "just kidding. Like I'd let a freak like you into my home without supervision."

Once again surprising the young man, his expectation was the farthest thing from what the greying man actually said.

"I fergot ta mention my niece, my sisters kid. She'll be here soon enough, gets off work in a half hour or so. She's been stayin' with me since, ah–" he trailed off a bit, one leg up in the cruiser, the other still planted firmly on the ground as he looked at Daryl over the door's window, looking mildly uncomfortable "–well, she's jus' stayin' with me. She's real sweet, you'll prolly get along with 'er. Jus', eh, just be soft, ya hear? She's a bit skittish, and real shy, too, so don't be too offended if she avoids ya, she don't mean it rude like."

And what on earth could he mean by that? The avoiding that he'd done when describing why she was here, what had happened that he didn't want to talk about? Daryl had a few theories already.

"'Till later, Daryl. Take care, and remember what I told ya, boy." With a wave and a caring (or warning, he could never quite tell with the old man) smile, the grizzled man pulled out of the small driveway and onto the road leading out of the trailer park to go do his civic duty, leaving a still heavily confused, and now slightly concerned, Daryl Dixon standing outside of his garage.

This man, knowing his family's history with bad habits, was not only willing to let the teenager into his home without a watchful eye, but was also perfectly okay knowing he'd be there, alone, with his (skittish and shy) niece?

Maybe the old man is finally losing it, he thought.

Still in shock, the young man turned on his heel, and began the short trek back to the shedd to continue working on the pickup that he had been working on fixing up. Though it was really nothing but a shell sitting on bricks right now, he knew that someday it'd be his pride and joy.

Some uncounted amount of time later, Daryl was finally pulling himself out from under the hood. His throat itched with dryness, and he was covered in sweat from the never-ending harshness of the Georgian sun, but, nonetheless, he couldn't help the little spike of pride that ran through him as he looked down at the beginnings of the new-made guts of his pickup. Allowing himself the luxury of a small smile, he decided he'd finally take the old Sheriff up on his offer, and moved to head into the house to grab something to wet his throat, and maybe even a rag to wipe off his face, if he was feeling risky.

He found, upon entry, that the house was relatively clean. Cleaner than it had been the last time he'd been in there, at least, and only as clean as an old trailer house could really get.

Still, where before there had been newspapers scattered, now there were none, and in place of the cluttered kitchen was a clean countertop and a basket of fresh apples. He didn't dwell on it a whole lot as he moved to the sink to fill up a plastic solo cup, though he did wonder if Bill would mind if he stole an apple. The young Dixon couldn't really remember the last time he'd eaten.

Filling his cup, he was quick to chug it down, the cold a dramatic (but welcome) shock against the harsh dryness of his throat. He let the water run into the sinks basin as he filled the cup up again, again, and then one more time, and only on his fifth return to the water did he realize the difference in sound. A few inches of water was backed up in the bottom of the sink, refusing to go down the drain like it should, and completely changing the sound the water pouring from the faucet made as it headed downwards.

Quickly setting the cup aside and turning off the faucet, he watched the water make its incredibly slow decent into the drain, and decided he needed to pay back Sheriff Coleman's hospitality. It was the least he could do, after all.

Opening the doors that lead to the plumbing beneath the sink, Daryl set himself to work.

~~~~~~~~~~×~~~~~~~~~~

"Good night, (name)!" Mr. Sennet's overly cheery voice called to the young woman as she moved her way through the front doors of the diner.

Calling out a quick goodbye to him as well, she hurriedly climbed into her rig. A shitty little Honda though she was, she still got the young (name) from a to b, and (name) would be forever grateful to her uncle for gifting it to her.

Dusk was just beginning to settle as she took off towards her new residence, and she worried slightly if her uncle would be angry that she was out later than usual. The diner had been busier tonight than normal, and instead of getting off at seven, as per usual, it was now closer to nine.

Taking a calming breath, she reminded herself aloud:

"He's not like they were, he won't be mad at you. He's not like them, he won't be mad."

Though she really did believe it, she still repeated it aloud to herself the entire way back to the house, as if she thought she could will it into existence if she hoped hard enough.

It was silly, she knew, but she didn't really care. After all she'd been through, she thought she deserved a little self reassurance.

The drive to her new home was short lived, though she didn't much mind. She hated to be alone now, it gave her too much time to think, and far too much time to overthink. A regular pastime of hers, it seemed.

It was odd, really. Before, when it was just her and the chromed glass house and the bruising voices, before she was taken away by her uncle, she loved to be alone. She cherished the times of peace she had between the hurt. Now, if she was alone for more than thirty minutes, it was likely she'd be found having a mental breakdown in a bathtub.

But, enough of the depressing stuff.

As the scarred girl pulled into the driveway, she didn't notice the second pair of tracks that accompanied her uncles, as she was far too wrapped up in her head. Something she'd be sure to kick herself for at a later date. She didn't notice the single light that was on in the kitchen, either, nor did she pay mind to the tools that lay neatly around their box as she passed the shedd that functioned as a garage, and she simply put the shell of a pickup truck that sat just outside off as another of her uncles pastimes. Opening and stepping through the front door, she didn't even notice the smudge of mud off the sole of someone's shoe that was left on the carpet.

She did, however, definitely notice the way the hair on the back if her neck stood to attention at the sound of a voice that most definitely wasn't the Sheriffs cursing angrily from the kitchen. Metal clinking to the ground and a tapping on something that echoed like tubing followed behind the exclamation, and (name) felt herself seize up in fear.

"It can't be them," she reminded herself silently, "it isn't them, it can't be."

Swallowing her fear, trying desperately not to let the tears that branded the backs of her eyes build enough to fall, (name) forced herself to move farther into the room, grabbing the aluminum baseball bat that resided behind the door and dropping her bag by a table near the door as she did.

Thinking back to the little bit of self defence that Bill had taught her upon her moving in, she pulled the bat to her side to keep it close enough that no one could easily pull it from her grasp, but could still cause some damage if shoved forwards hard enough.

Sneaking around the corner of the refrigerator that hid the person from view, she took a deep, calming breath before poking her head around to take a peek.

He was young, she could tell, likely not much older than herself. Shaggy, brown-blond hair nearly reached broad shoulders, and even though he was hunched over beneath the kitchen sink, she could still tell he was much larger than her. Muscles flexed under a sleeveless button-down shirt as he twisted a wrench against the plumbing under the basin, grunting lightly as he did.

He didn't seem like he was there to cause trouble, she figured. Who in their right minds broke into a house just to fix their backed up sink? Oh dear, maybe he's not in his right mind? What if they sent him and he's here to kill the girl? What if he was there to bring her back to them somehow? But they were away, they couldn't hurt her, could they? Even from the depths of prison, or the entrapment of the psych ward, the girl didn't really doubt that one of the two could get a word out to have her hurt (killed?) for getting them put away. She was going to die now and she wouldn't even be able to fix the meatloaf that she had planned for tonight's dinner. She felt her body begin to tremble (or perhaps it was already, and she only just then noticed) and her eyes glazed themselves with tears, to her dismay.

Could she swing and knock him unconscious? Could she at least discombobulate the man long enough to escape? Could she really even hurt somebody like that?

Before she could come to a decision, however, the decision came to her.

Away in the living room, a phone rang. The shrill tlrrring! making both bodies jump slightly, and causing the boy bent beneath the kitchen sink to take notice of young (name).

Blue eyes widened as he caught sight of her, baseball bat clutched in hand, and he threw himself backwards and away, slamming his body into the ovens door. Instinctively, his arms moved to guard his face and torso.

"Fuck! Fuckin' hell, girl!" The loud exclamation startled the girl, and she jumped again, shoving against the refrigerator hard enough to make it rattle dangerously.

~~~~~~~~~~×~~~~~~~~~~

Fixing the plumbing turned out to be far more difficult than Daryl had originally assumed. The bits holding the stuff to the things was rusted on, making it difficult to loosen the thingy mabob and clear anything clogging the that thing.

Putting all of his focus into wrenching the bits away from the stuff, Daryl completely failed to notice the other presence in the room with him, and when the phone in the other room shocked him out if his thoughts, he found his mind immediately assuming it was his father standing there with a weapon in hand.

As his back hit the oven and his arms moved to guard his head, he caught full sight of the person, and quickly came to realize his mistake. His heart beat harshly against his ribs, and he couldn't help but exclaim his dislike for the situation.

"Fuck! Fuckin' hell, girl!"

At his shout, the girl flinched away from him so harshly that he thought the refrigerator was going to come crashing down on top of him, and he immediately felt guilty, for some odd reason.

She looked absolutely terrified. (Eye color) eyes big as saucers, glazed with fear and glossy with tears, shaking hands gripped the metal of the baseball bat so hard her skin turned white, and her entire body was shaking like a leaf. Her eyes never left his form as he slowly stood up from the ground, one hand still held out in front of him, whether to ward off an attack, or to show he meant no harm, neither really knew. The girl was down right terrified of him, and he hadn't so much as said a word to deserve it yet.

This had to be the niece the Sheriff was talking about, he decided. The scared look she was giving him as she slowly backed away from him made him feel downright awful, and he knew he needed to do something to show her he meant no harm. So, remembering her uncles words, Daryl worked to make his voice a bit less gruff than usual, and tried to keep the edge out of his tone.

"Uh-uh, I ain't here ta hurtcha, girlie–" she took another quick step back "–I'm a friend of Bill's. I was jus' comin' in ta get a drink, I ain't here ta hurtcha."

There was far more that could be said, he knew, but words never really were his forté, and he wasn't sure how much he could talk before he made her more uncomfortable. However, the little bit that he had said, mostly naming her uncle, he thought, had made her shoulders un-hunch a bit, though she kept her distrusting posture. Smart girl.

Slowly lowering the bat until it pointed at his chest she grabbed it with both hands and hesitantly backed out of the kitchen, beckoning him to follow her. Keeping him safely at the end of the bat, and moved to pick up the still-ringing phone and gingerly press it to her ear, her eyes never leaving him, and the bat never wavering (though it did shiver along with her tremors.)

Her eyes relaxed a bit more at the voice on the other end of the line, and though Daryl couldn't much hear the words that were being said—aside from the mumbled tone—he could still tell it was the sheriffs deep voice that spoke.

"Yeah? Uh-hm, good, I uh, I guess... I did. Of course," as she spoke to the formless voice, Daryl couldn't help the small spike of fear that ran up his spine. What if the Sheriff didn't want him there now that he'd scared the girl? He had warned him, he thought. What if Bill made him go back to his shit-hole house and wouldn't let him come back again? This place was one of the few he had to escape that hell, he didn't want to lose that. What if the officer freaked and called Daryl's dad to come pick him up? He'd have hell to pay if he let that happen. He was sure he'd end up with a few more scars at least if his dad were to find out that someone knew of what went on behind closed doors. The Sheriff, no less. What if he–

His spiraling thoughts were disrupted when he caught the sound of his name coming from the other end of the phone line and immediately tuned back in.

"Uhm, uh, yeah, I–I guess. I mean, yeah, yes, he's still here... Oh, no, he's, uh, he's been nice enough," was she even still talking about the red-necked youth? "Yes, of course it's okay, uncle Bill. Sure-sure thing, yeah, that's okay with me. I was thinking about making meatloaf tonight, anyway, that usually makes enough for more than just you an' me."

Wait, what?

The girl had lowered the weapon, though she still kept a tight grip in it, and gave him a shy, almost apologetic smile, before finally letting her eyes dart away. Daryl stayed frozen in his spot. What was even happening?

"–oh," she suddenly looked dejected at whatever had been said on the other side. Scared, almost. "Yeah, no, no, that's-that's okay, uncle Bill, sure thing. It's okay, promise," she suddenly donned a small smile, and though he knew imediately that it was fake, he still found himself startlingly light-of-breath at the sight.

"Yeah, of course, see you tomorrow, uncle, stay safe." Tomorrow? What? Why was all this so confusing to the youngest Dixon? Why was the disappearance of her smile making him feel so hollow?

The sudden change in the expression that the smaller figure wore was dramatically startling to Daryl. Going from sad and scared and sorry and a bit regretful to blushing and wincing and all together uncomfortable in the blink of an eye, the girl shriekingly exclaimed:

"Uncle Bill! No! Ew, gross! Don–Don't say things like that, ya nasty!" Daryl couldn't help but find her blush and stutter quite endearing.

Even from the few paces away that he was, he could still hear the loud laugh that erupted from the other side of the phone.

"Alrigh–alright, uncle Bill," the girls face was still flushed intensely, "I'm hanging up on you now... Yeah, yes, okay—thanks for that." She winced again at whatever he'd said, and she somehow flushed even harder. In a softer voice, now, "I'll see you tomorrow, then. Stay safe." Her last words were barely a whisper.

Slowly pulling the phone away from her ear, the girl placed it gently on the receiver before turning to glance at Daryl, though he took note that she never once fully looked at him again.

"I'm, uhm, I'm sorry," she whispered, grimacing softly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ו×~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[mochilici0us]

One New Message | jjk (4)

➳ 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: angst, thriller, stalker au

➳ 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: Skye realizes she has to deal with a ruthless stalker when the messages she’s constantly receiving are getting more and more threatening. A stalker that makes her recall memories of the past she swore she would never rake up again

➳ 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2,5k

prologue, part one, part two, part three, part four

April 2013

''Skye can you pass me the milk please?'' my father kindly requests while we enjoy our breakfast. They enjoy to be exact. I can hardly take part in their conversation, my mind is away.

My eyes can't stop following her skinnier, exhausted figure moving from the kitchen to the dining haul and serving breakfast.

Something's up these days, she avoids eye contact with me at all costs, we haven't even talked properly. She's acting cold towards me just muttering a few weak goodmornings and goodnights. Yeah, those are the only words I've exchanged with my ''best friend'', not even a little talk to catch up with each other's news.

''Ruby can you fetch me some honey?'' my mother yells so that Ruby listens from the kitchen. A few seconds after she appears holding a jar of honey. Even her walk is stiff, I'm genuinely concerned about her health.

''Here you are'' I'm sure she can feel my burning gaze as she leaves the honey on the table and finally after a week our eyes meet.

Shit, she looks so pale, dark circles under her red eyes, chipped lips, I can even practically see her facial bones. To my surprise she doesn't look annoyed or angry. She just glances at me tiredly, as if she had quit living.

My piercing gaze on the other hand is anything but calm and sympathetic. She's clearly sick, something's eating her alive and instead of sharing her concerns with me she stays away?

Our eye contact lasts only for a few seconds but it's strong enough to show my restrained rage.

She realizes it immediately, averts her gaze and leaves like the coward she is.

''This weekend I'm leaving on an unexpected business trip'' my father announces and takes a sip of his coffee right after

''Again? You were on a business trip last week'' my mother fires back

''Do you think it's up to me? For your information I'd rather stay home and relax with my family''

''I don't mean it's your fault I just...''

''You make me feel terrible every time I have to tell you about a businesstrip. I can't talk to my family without restrictions anymore Christen''

''Ok I'm sorry don't get mad'' my mother lowers her eyes and apologises quickly before my father gets more angry.

Sometimes I admire my dad. He's so manipulative but not in a bossy way, he always prevails upon my mother with sensible arguments, voice laced with sweetness.

He's so diplomatic, no doubt he has built such a great career

''Darling why are you not eating?'' my mother remarks as I fiddle with the spoon. The bowl of granola cereals is untouched.

''I have no appetite. I have to go to school anyway, I'm late'' I pretendto study my watch and stand up

''Do you want me to come with you?'' my father suggests

''Nο it's ok I can walk''

''Skye are you sure everything's ok?'' I hear my mother's voice as I head towards the living room to grab my backpack.

''I'm fine mum I just didn't sleep well. See you later''

As I'm about to exit alone Ruby appears out of nowhere. Her body posture screams nervousness.

''You didn't eat your breakfast'' she speaks quietly biting her already chopped lips

She's been avoiding me for a week and now she pretends to be a thoughtful friend. She made me feel depressed, cry myself to sleep thinking what the hell I did wrong and now she plays dumb?

I just stay still without answering, my intense eyes glued to her wandering ones. She doesn't even dare to look at my eyes.

She clears her throat ''Here''she takes a fresh hand-made sandwich out of her pocket and extends her hand. I eye her hand without moving an inch.

''You can eat it instead. You look like a sceleton'' I spit my venom and walk out of my house without sparing her a glance.

It was too late when I realized what I had said.

''I love spaghetti but my mother never cooks. My dad says she cooks terrible but that's a secret'' Grace's friend Lisa whispers and pretends to seal her lips. She's so cute.

''Don't worry your secret is safe''

She nods and digs into her food again. Under other circumstances I wouldn't have cooked but today Susan picked up both Grace and Lisa so I couldn't disoblige her. Her puppy eyes gave me enough courage to get up and cook even though I'm still in a cast.

The three of us are sitting in the dining table and enjoying my home-made bolognese spaghetti. I was never good at cooking, I couldn't cook to save my life to be exact but I had to learn how for Grace. So I practiced and practiced till I reached my goal, I didn't want to become the new master chef, just learn how to cook some basic things so that Grace eats home-made food. In the beginning I would constantly fail but practice makes perfect.

''Eat your veggies as well girls'' I gesture at the bowl of salad.

They both nod like good girls and do as I say. They're so freaking adorable. Lisa has short black hair with bangs and chocolate brown eyes. She's small but taller than Grace. She comes by often, most of the times I pick her up from school as well since Grace and her are classmates.

Her favorite foods are spaghetti, steak with baby potatoes and vegetable fried rice. Let's not forget my signature fruit smoothie which I always serve with vanilla frosting cupcakes.

We always sit and eat together, exchanging news, telling jokes. I really enjoy their interactions, they look like two tiny dumplings.

"What did you do in school today?" I ask intertwining my fingers

"We drew our dream gardens, mine has a huge swimming pool" Lisa hurries to answer

"Mine has a plenty of colorful flowers and a big telescope on the center to admire the stars. And the Sky. Sky as we say Skye" Grace jokes shyly, puffing her flushed cheeks. Lisa bursts into a laughter once she gets the joke.

"Good one Grace" I wink at my little sister who resembles a puppy waiting for a praise.

After a while we're finally done with the food. I really missed cooking and eating my own food, Susan cooks pretty decently as well but I was craving so bad for some of my spaghetti.

''Did you enjoy your meal girls?'' I eye the empty plates

''Yeah!''they both cheer

''Go to play now while I prepare your fruits''

The two small kitties obey and walk towards the room wiggling their small butts. I can't help but chuckle at them.

My eyes land on the dirty dining table as I sigh disappointed, washing the dishes is definitely the worst part of cooking and eating. No matter how much I enjoy preparing food and trying new recipes, the process of cleaning after is terrible. I'm going to wash the dishes later I think and slowly proceed to my big kitchen to cut fruits for the girls, my hands holding the crutches tight.

Being on my feet isn't the best idea whatsoever but tomorrow I'm having my cast removed so my ankle is pretty much healed.

I go for strawberries, bananas and pears and also pick two colorful bowls.

As I already mentioned tomorrow I'm having my cast removed. My stomach twitches in anticipation. Will he be there? Two weeks have passed but I still find myself thinking of him before sleeping even though the picture of him is blurry and distant. Just a memory, a distant picture of him is enough to keep me up at night...

I brush away these thoughts and throw the fruits into the bowls, adding some honey on top and voila! A quick and healthy sweet fruit salad.

"Girls come on" I yell and wait for the two little ones to arrive, trying to distract my mind from unwanted thoughts.

What I know for sure is that tomorrow is a big day....

"You're finally able to walk again, I'm so happy'' Susan cheers and hugs me tight as we exit the hospital. Unfortunately I didn't have my cast removed by the pretty doctor, he didn't even appear to be exact.

Disappointed but not suprised

The young cute nurse was there though, she recognized me and even greeted me, I was THIS close to ask about him but my pride didn't allow me.

''How are you feeling?'' Her hand strokes my back

''Weird'' I respond eyeing my healed ankle ''I was used to walking on crutches''

Indeed last 2 weeks I would only walk using my crutches, they had become a part of my routine. I certainly feel better now though, well-rested,healthy, ready to return to reality.

''Let's go, I'm treating you to brunch.. There are so many things we have to catch up on after''

''W-what do you mean?'' I stutter scared because I have a feeling that I already know her answer

''Shopping therapy of course''

Oh no...

''Susan are you kidding I just removed my cast''

''Sweetheart you know I wouldn't drag you along unless I had a reason. Next Tuesday is Yoongi's birthday party, we have to get our outfits''

''Yoongi's birthday...'' I scratch my sculpt looking at her sheepishly''I totally forgot, I'm sorry''

''It's ok, you're coming anyway''

''What about-''

''Taehyung's gonna take care of your sister don't worry'' she cuts me off as if she had read my thoughts

I nod, it's rude to deny the invitation

''Yoongi's friends are really handsome and some of them are single so don't think you're getting off. We have to find a cute outfit for you as well... now let's eat'' I roll my eyes but agree rubbing my stomach that hasn't stopped rumbling and finally get in her car .

''It's stunning'' I examine the purple midi dress Susan's holding. The material is silk, it appears glamorous, expensive and the embellished straps detail completes the look.

''Should I try it on?'' she hesitates

''Of course, purple looks amazing on you'' That's true, the contrast between her ginger hair, green eyes and the purple colour is definitely unique. Purple flatters every single of her characteristics.

''Let's find something for you'' her eyes wander around the store

''I gained weight these days so I should go for something baggy''

''No Skye, you should go for something sexy yet sick that emphasizes your cleavage. Your boobs got bigger, thankfully'' she whispers the last word and rolls her eyes

''Susan'' I whisper yell covering my breasts with my hands ''Did they?'' I rethink my friend's comment. Indeed I've noticed a slight development. This whole weight gaining story had a positive result at least.

Once I realise where my hands are and how the rest of the customers look at me probably thinking I'm a horny pervert I instantly lower them and grab the first dress I lay my eyes on.

''This one is perfect yes'' Susan practically runs towards me ''It's very elegant and the lace detail makes it sensual. You're definitely trying it on''

I take a closer look at the dress I picked out on random. It's certainly cute, off shoulder, midi, black with lace but tight as hell

''Isn't it way too tight? I think it's gonna accentuate every single bloated part of my body''

''Try it out you have nothing to lose. Besides the party is in 5 days, you have plenty of time to search for a dress''

''There's no way I'm going through this again. It's either today or I'm coming wearing my Pjs'' I announce and make my way to the fitting rooms determined. I can hear Susan mumbling a few curses, probably blaming me for being grumpy and stubborn.

''Excuse me'' an assistant approaches us

''There's only one fitting room available. I'm afraid you have to wait for a while''

''No problem, Susan you go first''

''Are you sure?''

I nod and sit in the comfortable blue chair that matches the rest of the decoration and furnishings of the store.

This showroom is excellently designed, the minimal yet eccentric blue décor casts an air of originality as the majority of stores follow a consistent pattern. No wonder it's Susan's favorite showroom, modern decor, excellent service and the clothing here is feminine, figure-friendly just like the dress I'm holding.

I'm so absorbed in gaping at the interior decoration that I don't notice my friend standing in front of me.

''Hey, earth to Skye'' she wiggles her fingers in front of my face

''Sorry'' I take my time studying her figure. ''I really like it. It's ideal for your body type and the colour is gorgeous''

The violet silk dress looks perfect on her, the semi tight fit shows up her toned silhouette, the swarovski embellished spaghetti straps together with the V neck flaunt her beautiful collarbones.

''I think it looks lovely too'' the cheerful, helpful assistant comments

''Yeah I like it'' she stares at the mirror

''You can use that fitting room'' the girl gestures at an empty room smiling. How are they always so kind and happy?''It's free now''

''Thank you'' I smile back and give a long sigh standing up from the soft chair.

Reluctantly I undress myself and wear the cute midi dress. It's tight but not as much as I expected. Well it's not that bad after all, I still need Susan's opinion though and a closer look in the big mirror. A few seconds later I'm out and heading for the mirror.

''Wow'' Susan talks ''It looks... stunning''

The dress hugs my body flawlessly, emphazising my curves. The off-shoulder design is very cute but sexy at the same time because my cleavage is shown off perfectly and I'm not even wearing a push up bra. I never thought I'd look that attractive in a dress.

''It fits you like a dream. You're definitely buying it'' Susan insistsand the assistant agrees

It's elegant yet sexy. Sexy in a non provocative way since it shows off only the right places.

''I think I'm getting this one'' I finally decide and Susan winks excitedly

''Hurry up we have to go for heels as well''

''Heels? Ha''  A humorless laugh leaves my lips

''You're laughing? What are you planning to wear with this dress then?'' she crosses her arms.

Her question catches me off guard but I act cool ''Flats? I don't care, anything but heels''

She laughs sarcastic lifting a shaped eyebrow ''Flats? If you plan to wear flat shoes on my husband's party I inform you that you're not invited''

I simply pout, my eyes pleading for mercy

''Come on Skye it's a party, a bussines kinda party you don't have to walk or dance. You can deal with heels under these circumstances I'm sure''

''Okay'' I sigh defeated meeting her gaze. There's no point in agruing, she's right I need heels with the apparel I chose.

''Hurry up then'' she scolds and enters the fitting room.

Have I mentioned how much I hate shopping with my best friend?

[thatssonanii]

Just the Two of Us (15)

HAHN AU

Lainey worked half the day then let her stylists know she was leaving and her parents would be there sometime before closing to lock up. Figuring the ride to see Marcie was a good time, Lainey decided to tell them about her plans.

They'd taken Cam's Tahoe since Cam wanted to drive. Benny made sure both his brother's cars were taken care of and ready for them because he just honestly didn't want them driving his. Benny and Lainey say in the middle row and Zion in the passenger seat.

"Hey, can you turn that down for a second?" Lainey asked over the music.

Cam turned the music down, glancong at his sister in the rear view mirror. "I'm going the wrong way or something?"

"No, I just wanna talk."

Benny was silently praying that it wasn't another sex question. After the two hour talk he had with her, he didn't think he could take any more torture.

Zion turned in his seat to look at her. "Whats up?"

"Sooo I'm gonna be gone from Friday night till Monday night."

Benny let go a sigh of relief. "Where you goin?"

"Charles invited me to stay the weekend with him in Atlanta at his house. And I told him I would." She said with a smile.

"You might as well call him and tell him you can't go," Cam fussed. "Must be out ya mind if you think you going 6 hours away with some man we don't know."

Lainey huffed. "He's a freaking governor, he's not gonna do anything to ne and ruin his career."

"Why can't he come here like he been doing?" Benny asked rubbing his beard.

"Because he has stuff to do there. He wants to but he can't keep. So I'm gonna go."

Zion shook his head, "We appreciate the honesty this time around but Lainey, you sure about this? You don't know this cat."

"No, yall don't know him," She smiled, "I know him and I like him. Can yall please be supportive?"

Benny adjusted in his seat thinking everything over. He waved his sister to live her life but he wanted her to be careful. "Listen, you can go under one condition."

"What's that?"

"We take you down there and stay for a little while."

"I'll take it! But please don't threaten him and not longer than two hours."

Cam chuckled, "That's fine but an hour of that is just us and him."

Lainey knew not to argue, she would take what she would get.

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

Lainey jumped out as soon as Cam put it in park and crossed the street. She had to pee and they were taking too long. Jogging across the pretty much empty street, she got to Marcie's porch and rung the doorbell a few times. She bounced from foot to foot waiting on her friend.

"Hey, girl," Marcie laughed opening the door. "Whats wrong?"

Lainey invited herself in, "They wouldn't stop to let me pee. I gotta go, they coming."

With that, Lainey ran upstairs the bathroom and Marcie stood at the door waiting. She watched the brothers walk across the street and waved. They waved back politely.

"Damn," Cam cussed under his breath.

Benny shook his head laughing, "She married man."

Cam laughed, "So is Melissa."

Benny shrugged playfully, "You got me there."

Marcie let them into her house and to the livong room area. She walked over to the kitchen.

"Thank yall so much for coming here. I have water, juice, and tea. What would yall like? We're gonna be here for a little second."

"Water is fine, Marcie," Benny answered, "Did you get to meet my brothers at the party?"

Marcie shook her head getting the food together she made for them.

"No, I didn't. Melissa and Lainey hogged me to themselves most if the night. Lainey talks about yall a lot though so I feel like I have." She picked up the platter and walked it over sitting it down on the table in front of them. "I made some chicken, potatoes and broccoli for lunch since yall were coming."

Zion smiled, "You aint have to but we glad you did."

Marcie laughed, "You're welcome. You must be Zion and you must be Cameron. Its nice to actually meet you guys."

"Just Cam is fine, my mama is the only that calls me that and it's only when I'm in trouble."

Benny and Zion laughed under their breath as they fixed their plates. Their older brother was the biggest flirt between the three of them.

"Cam it is then. I'm gonna go grab the papers really quick."

Cam nodded watching her leave the room and whistled lowly. "The Lord is testing me and my patience."

Benny scoffed, "You wouldn't know what patience was if it fell in your lap."

Lainey beat Marcie back to the living room. She sat on the sofa across from them, eyeing them wearily. They laughed when they noticed her looking at them.

"I don't know what yall doin or was talkin about but nip it." She warned in a whisper.

Zion sucked his teeth. "We ain't did shit yet."

"Uhuh, yet. I know yall."

Marcie came back with the papers, as she crossed the room Lainey watched her brothers then realized it was mostly Cameron.

After four hours the papers were finally done. Lainey helped Marcie clean up their mess. They sat around talking for a little while until Randall walked in. He smiled politely as he spoke to each of them.

"Lainey, always nice to see you. You look nice." He said politely.

"Thanks, Randall. We were just leaving."

Randall stuffed his hands in his pockets, "Oh no, don't leave on my account. I'm just gonna get changed and go work on my boat."

Lainey hummed, "You're always working on that thing. Either you don't know what you're doing or its junk."

Randall have a stiff laugh. "I'm putting my father's boat back together actually. It got badly damaged during a storm."

Marcie bumped her friend's shoulder, "Its sentimental. He loves that thing. Go ahead, Randall."

Randall nodded and bowed out heading upstairs. The men didn't miss the way he looked back on his way upstairs but they didnt want to say anything without knowing.

"Well since Turbo is home, we're gonna go." Lainey huffed getting her purse.

Marcie laughed, "Hush before he hears you calling him that. But don't go, stay a little longer."

"I'd love to but I gotta get back home. We promised our nephew we'd spend time with him and I need to start packing."

"Ooh yeees, I almost forgot about your lil sleep away trip with your boo," Marcie grinned, "You excited?"

"She bet not be too damn excited," Cam fussed.

Marcie waved him off. "She can be excited. That's her man and she finally gets alone time with him away from you three. Uhuh, she told me about yall."

"I dont care what her lil sassy self said."

Marcie laughed and turned back to her friend, "Anyway, I hope you have fun and I got you something to take with you."

Lainey laughed at her brothers' expressions. "Go wait in the car, I'm coming."

"Nope, we wanna see what she got you." Cam said getting comfortable.

Marcie rolled hwr eyes playfully and got up then pulled her froend up from the sofa. Lainey grabbed her purse and followed her friend.

"You jist can't help yourself, can you," Zion asked laughing. "Fighting counts as flirting. And you know that."

Cam laughed, "Give me some credit at least I don't have her legs on my shoulder."

"Chill," Benny laughed, "She sat her ass on my desk, aight. Damn."

Randall came back downstairs in lounging clothes. He stared the three men down then went to the kitchen to grab water and went out the back door.

"Who the fuck was he staring at?" Zion asked sitting up. "Fuck is his problem?"

Benny shrugged adjusting his hat, "Must know competition when he sees it."

The women came back whispering with each other. They all said their goodbyes and Marcie walked them out to their car. She waved to her neighbors then rolled her eyes making Lainey laugh.

"Ooh that reminds me," Marcie huffed, "I gotta text Melissa."

"About what?" Lainey asked.

"Well she needs to get her mind off of a certain someone," Marcie said looking briefly at Benny, "And out of that apartment I'm gonna get her to come to this dinner party Friday."

"She better stop thinking about Benny."

Marcie laughed, "You know, I know and he knows that she thinks he's cute. But I need a friend at this stupid dinner party Alex is throwing. I don't wanna go but Randall's always so excited to go hang out with Brad."

"Mmhm," Lainey said hugging her, "Well yall have fun. Ima call yall later while I'm packing. And thank you again for this. I dunno if I'll use it but at least I'll have it."

"Trust me, you will." Marcie moved to hug her brothers, lingering in Cameron's arms before walking back across the street to her house.

Lainey smacked the back of his head snapping him from his thoughts. He flies ched hard and stared at her.

"And yall talking about me being a hot ass. You get your hot ass in the car and stop looking at my friend. You too Benny. I don't know what happened but it better not happen again."

[xxkellsvixen19xx]

Notice Chapter 15

She was now being rewarded for her bravado. "You look like an exotic slave girl who's escaped from a harem. My harem. A very exclusive harem of one very beautiful and beguiling young woman." His intense blue stare swept up and down her body. "Do you have any idea what you do to me, Y/N?"

"So, I'm your love slave now?" she asked, though there was no rancour in her tone as there had been when she'd first learned what he was offering. Instead her tone was teasing.

But Michael chose to take her question seriously. Their present accord was so new and he didn't want to scare her into leaving. He needed to assure her. "Only when you want to be. You have safe words for a reason and if you decide to say no at any time, I won't force you. I can't. I wouldn't."

Y/N raised herself off his lap to rest her hands on his shoulders. She'd worked out that this was mostly acceptable to Michael as long as she didn't threaten to move them. "I know. But I might want to play."

“Y/N, I'm not sure that's a good idea right now. You still haven't recovered completely."

She leaned forward and placed an open-mouthed kiss on his sculpted lips, slowly moving her body until she was straddling his hips. Within seconds, he wrapped an arm around her waist and slipped his free hand into her hair, holding her head still as he ravaged her mouth hungrily, nipping, licking, his tongue pushing past her lips, stroking... teasing.

Breathlessly, Y/N spoke almost against his mouth as she slipped out of her robe. "I trust you not to hurt me. Take me. Take me to the Red Room." Like falling off a horse, she felt she needed to face the room now, if she were ever to get over her fear from the last visit.

Michael's lips strayed to her right ear. "Are you sure?" he whispered, placing sensuous open mouthed kisses down her neck till he pushed the spaghetti strap off her shoulder, while his fingers repeated the process with the left strap. Momentarily, the silk clung to her dampened skin, till her top slid down her breasts. His hungry mouth followed the path of the camisole till he was sucking her left nipple and rolling the other between his thumb and index finger. "Don't say yes just to please me." He forced the words out around her swollen nipple. Never had he given a submissive such leeway, but Y/N was different. If he hadn't realised before, he knew for certain now.

Yes, he wanted her as a sub and a wife. He didn't want to give up the lifestyle completely and he was fairly sure she liked the kinky fuckery, too. He just had to be careful to do only what she was comfortable with. "If we go to the playroom now, there won't be any punishments. I think you've had enough for one weekend. This time there may be a little pain, but it'll be more about pleasure. You have my word. I'll take care of you."

"Then please, Sir! I want you to play with me."

Through his jeans, Michael could feel her excitement dampen her harem pants and slid his hand to cup her mound, his fingers exploring her folds. “Y/N, you're so wet and ready." He stood up, steadying her with his arm around her waist. "Come!"

Y/N adjusted her camisole, took his proffered hand and followed him up the stairs while the music continued to play

*************************************************

For the first time, Y/N felt the Red Room welcome her. As the subtle lighting came on, she trembled slightly, but more from anticipation than anxiety. Michael, however, felt her shiver and immediately turned to her, pulling her into his arms. One of his hands held her head as he bent to kiss her... a kiss of tenderness, of reassurance.

“Y/N, you can still say no. We can go back downstairs to our bedroom. You know there are other ways of keeping me happy."

"No! I signed the contract of my own volition. I might not like the belts and stuff, but I've enjoyed all the other things we've done in here."

He kissed her quickly again, with a stirring of passion. "I've enjoyed it too, Y/N, and, since it's your wish, I intend to make you cry again but this time it will be with pleasure. Turn around."

She complied at once and said, "Yes, Master."

There was a sound of an edgy indrawn breath as Michael's hands stilled in her hair. “Y/N, don't. Master is not a name I wish you to call me. I like the way you say my name, but in this room, Sir will suffice."

"As you wish, Sir."

"Good girl," he said, running his lips up her neck and gently nibbling her ear before braiding her hair. "Now, undress and wait for me as I've instructed you."

The room was still while Michael left to don his playroom jeans and Y/N calmed her heart beat as she followed his instructions. When he re-entered, she could hear him open the drawers of the chest and within moments, he was behind her. She could only hope the toys he'd chosen weren't too extreme as she wasn't sure how much she could withstand. Yet he'd asked her to trust him and, like Michael, she understood they could only be together if they believed in each other.

"Stand, Y/N," he commanded.

She obeyed and he slipped a blindfold across her eyes, causing her to draw in a quick breath.

"Hush! It's only to heighten all your other senses." His hand was on her arm as he explained further. "I'm going to tether you to the cross, but it's not for a punishment. It's just that I want your body completely open to me. Do you trust me, Y/N?"

"Yes, Sir."

A few moments later, her wrists and ankles were shackled to the carved St Andrews cross. None of the fetters were over tight on her skin, but she certainly couldn't move any of her limbs.

"What are your safe words?"

"Yellow and Red, Sir,"

"Remember you can use them at any time for any reason and I'll stop immediately," Michael said in his Dom voice, though Y/N sensed the hint of anxiety still in his tone and she vowed that she would try to endure whatever he had in-store for her.

"I'm going to use some toys in this session and I hope you'll find them pleasurable."

She could feel his breath on her cheek and knew he'd moved very close. His lips were on hers, his mouth devouring her, his tongue probing. Y/N greedily leaned into his kiss, but just as her desire pooled in her groin, he moved back. She felt bereft. But she had no need as his mouth was nipping at the base of her throat, running open-mouthed kisses down to her shoulder. She squirmed beneath his touch.

"Stay still!" he ordered. "And have patience. I hope to have you squirming with need very soon."

Again, he lifted his lips from her skin, only to replace them on her left nipple where he teased and sucked, worshipping it with his teeth and tongue. The feeling went straight south. But suddenly, she experienced a bite on her engorged nipple which wasn't from any part of Michael. Within seconds, he'd repeated the same actions on her right breast.

"They're nipple clamps, Y/N," His voice came soft in her ear and his breath heated her skin. "Very mild ones. They shouldn't cause you too much pain once you become accustomed. You can tell me to remove them, but I'd like you to give them a chance." As he spoke, his fingers were tenderly massaging her breasts around her clamped nipples. "You look mighty fine like this, baby."

Michael's words sparked Y/N's desire and, surprisingly, she was discovering he was right. The clamps did hurt a bit, but the pleasure that was building deep inside her robbed them of their worst sting. She didn't trust her voice and just nodded.

"My brave girl," Michael said before she felt something long and narrow trace a pattern on her flesh from shoulder to shoulder. There was a click and suddenly soft vibrations massaged her sensitive skin. "This is a wand," he explained again. "It won't hurt you at all. It's purely for your pleasure."

He lightly moved it down her side, below her breasts and up the other side of her body. It grazed up her arm all the way to her cuffed wrist then slowly back again, repeating the same path below her breasts and up her other arm. Y/N groaned.

"Is that good?" She felt like she was in a trance, dancing to her sexpertise puppet-master and when she didn't speak, the vibrating halted. "Do you need me to stop? Answer me, Y/N"

"No! Please don't stop," she whimpered and was rewarded by Michael moving the wand down the side of her body towards her stomach where it hovered on her navel, teasing... torturing her with a promise of what was to come. He appeared to concentrate on her middle, moving up to her waist then from one hip to the other, increasing the pressure on her skin.

"Please," Y/N  ground out again, her body trying to lean into the tormenting wand.

As she arched her body forward as much as possible, a small space was created between her back and the cross. Immediately, she felt the wand slide around to her back and Michael increased the speed of the vibrations, very lightly following the curve of her spine upwards then down towards her buttocks.

Again, he leaned in close to her. "Remember, you must tell me if you are uncomfortable at any time?" He paused, waiting for her answer.

"Yes... yes. I will." And the wand was vibrating against her butt, her butt which just yesterday had experienced the pain and humiliation of the belt, but the tip of this instrument was soft and he was handling it with a lightness and gentleness of touch, so that it caressed her skin rather than caused her any discomfort. If she felt pain, it was barely there at all. Instead she felt the reaction cause her juices to flow even more. She was thoroughly wet and wanting.

“Michael," she said, demanding and beginning to writhe with passion.

Everything ceased.

“Michael?" she asked, puzzled.

[hugee0715]

2018

January

2 weeks into the year I cut my hair, probably like 80% of it. Which I quickly regretted. It just seems like every year starts with me doing something to myself, except this one. This January there'll be no surprise, promise.

I also had to decide what schools and courses I wanted to apply to until the 15th. So being the person that I am, at 23:20 on the 14th I submitted all the forms. Earth science, civil engineering or software engineering? I had another 6 month to find out which path my life would take.

February

This photo was taken at around 6 in the morning when I was on my way to a nearby city to take a language certification exam. I was so nervous because I was going into the C1 level right away, basically blindly with no exam experience whatsoever. I remember arriving and meeting 3 other girls who were there for the exam too. We started chatting and they all said that they took the B1 level previously because their teacher advised them. One has already failed, this was her second time. One was there with a whole book of exercises. They all looked so prepared and for a moment I panicked. If I were to fail that day, I'd have had 40 less points for my university application. And a lost bet with my girlfriend. But I didn't fail neither of those.

I also got my girl into MBTI that month, which quickly became the new astrology of our relationship. ENFP-INTP pairing. Cute, huh?

March

This was the month where I kind of chilled down for a moment. It was totally unjustifiable but I still did, thinking I've got plenty of time still till exams would start. I was going to school, doing some small preparations but nothing major.

April

Now this was the month where I regretted all the laziness back in March. My days were counted and I know that makes it sound like I was about to be executed but that's exactly how I felt.

On top of that, in the middle of the month my mum got hospitalized suddenly. It was supposed to be just a check but they didn't let her leave after it. My days were spent with visiting her instead of going to school. She scared us shitless but slowly she started getting better with each day and by the second week she was already coming home.

May

Oh May. I had graduation right at the beginning of the month and 2 days later my week of exams started. A peaceful image of my table right before maths exam. 20 minutes later it wasn't as peaceful anymore.

School ended for good and we had a monthish time before the second part of it all, which are the oral exams.

June

So many papers, hundreds of pages littered everywhere. Stress, overthinking, contemplating why I even applied for software engineering when I was so sure I'd fail the comsci exam, procrastinating, some self pity and over all panic.

One of the exceptions was this day, my mum's work did a little event. They work with old people, helping handicapped elders. A school building full of people who long left the classrooms, doing all kinds of crafts, little games and even some shooting outside. We sat around painting on glass, doing things we probably haven't done together in like a decade.

29 out of 50 so be careful, sharp shooter right here.

July

The 25th came around and at 20:00 sharp the point limits went live. The website instantly crashed by the tens of thousands of people and my blood was loudly rushing inside my head. Once it finally let me in I was scanning through the names of the different universities, then different faculties and lastly the different courses. Earth science. 290. Less than the previous years. A lot less actually. I got into the place I wanted to so badly. I got in by a ridiculous amount of points.

August

An accidental snapshot of my feet while I am having a mediocre melt down in the middle of a bridge over the Danube. The morning started horrendously, I left my student ID at home but I only realized it on the train. Which meant I couldn't buy discounted tickets but I didn't have enough money for the full price ones. So I called mum who called a friend who has a car that they have to come to the city with my ID within 20 minutes because if I miss the train I'll be late and won't be able to enroll to uni. That got solved last minute when they arrived 4 minutes before the train left, which then arrived to Budapest an hour late, the tram was out of service so I took one of the replacement busses but they only went till the Pest end of Petőfi bridge. Which meant I had to walk over when I was already running late so we could very well say that I was done at this point with life and everything.

September

With this picture we can confirm that I wasn't late for enrollment. This is the place most of my days are spent at. The days leading up to me having to move were filled with a weird type of anxiety. It wasn't the kind I was familiar with, it wasn't as scary. As consuming, as toxic. It was kind of exciting, like the feeling you get before getting on a roller coaster. My girl made it feel like that, the security of having her. If there's one good thing about LDR then it's the fact that I can literally have her anywhere with me and it feels like not much has changed. The calmness that this gave me was beyond understandable. I still had her, so there was no need to panic.

Of course it was still a little challenging, the whole change in our schedules and although it sometimes got a little frustrating, she was understanding and I need to thank her for being my safe spot, for making me so brave when I used to be so scared. Without her I would have never been able to do this and she knows that.

October

This is my view everyday when I go to work and back home. A city of so much magic and beauty and also a city that I can't wait to share with my love.

We had our first anniversary. A whole year of being together. I got off of work just in time before it turned midnight in the Philippines. I had a bag of cookies I made the previous day to show, cute, heart shaped ones. Maybe it wasn't the most ideal way or how I imagined it but the meaning behind it is still the same. A year of loving eachother, slowly changing, slowly realizing who we truly are as a team.

November

I made that! My job's description would most likely be miscellaneous. I stand at the counter, make coffee, help customers, sometimes clean or go to the post office, I'm responsible for the paper bags and cups, but on the weekends, I bake. I spend all my Sundays there quietly doing my job. Cookies, pies and as it was getting closer to Christmas gingerbread as well. I had the most tiring days, one time I spent 12 hours there building 6 of these trees and around another 400 of normal figures. My hands got inflamed by the end of the night because of all the icing I had to squeeze out. But nonetheless this is a good first job. I get to learn around really nice and helpful people. Not even mentioning all the free food I get.

December

A happy girl living a more challenging life than ever but still enjoying it like it's nothing.

Decembers are nice. I think back to all the things that happened this year and how different they were compared to last year. I was whining for 66.66666% of the 2017 post. And for the 2018 one all I can think about are the good good things that happened. None of the bad matters. I had one of the worst and one of the best years of my life after one another. No doubt about that.

So yeah,

2018 was a year that will truly be missed. I loved it. But no need to mourn anything because 2019 will give me even more things to write about at the beggining of 2020. Not to even mention 2021. This is far from the end.

[frogsandfries]

It's been a long day

It pretty much started after work yesterday. It's gotten very cold, so I went to my parents' to sleep. I only got eight hours of sleep, but not till about four in the evening. Got up at eleven, probably when my brother came in and my mom needed to talk to him. I heard my name, and chicken, and forced myself to get up. Leave me the chicken breasts, I requested. My brother claims not to know the difference....... -.- I went to the storage bin with my dad so he could have the truck available to help a friend, then forced my brother to sleep in the bed. I cleared his area out for him again (second time in less than six months) before I did some weaving. Then I noticed my second square was very wonky, so I went back and fixed it. I'm really trying hard to practice weaving more loosely. I learned to weave using a piece of cardboard to make a pouch, so I could pull the yarn as tightly as I liked. I'm trying to unlearn that habit.

By that time, my brother was up for work (he did not get much sleep), and my dad was trying to put together the itinerary of sorts. I thought I might get some wood work done, but by the time we got the lumber situated, we didn't have a saw, drill, hardware or my heater, and my dad's friend was ready for help...... except not? Because then we ended up driving a couple towns back for something my dad wanted while his friend took care of something else. This friend and her kids have a dog that got maybe temporally fostered out, and a cat and hare that my dad is taking care of. Now they have a barn kitten with a cold and eye infection......... And they're assuming this sickly kitten is going to bond with their healthy male.....just because he's a good boy.......ummmm..... okay. Jussain, if I was going to introduce two cats, I'd put the kitten in the new space while she gets healthy, then bring the male into the space. And they want the space to be my van......

First: I would love to have a cat. I've been telling my dad I would watch the first cat once my space is fixed up.

Second: The space is not fixed up. I am now two weekends behind getting that shell in place. Once I have the shell in place, I need to puzzle out the loft futon, because my plans for such do not include negotiating with a bracket/lip that eats up about two inches on both sides. You take your inches for granted until they are restricted, believe me. The shell is only twenty-six inches high, before insulation. I'm thinking I may have to cut the rear thirty inches of the lip to make space for the loft. That's the thought I keep coming back to. Trim it off, and I can sit the bed up into a couch, or store it up into the shell while I'm working in the studio. I'm still going to have to make the bed entirely custom, but I can do that later.

Third: My heater uses a small flame, like a candle, to heat the space. If I'm going to have any critter in the space, more than just getting the heater stabilized, I want it in some sort of cage where neither paws nor tails are at risk. The space, even poorly insulated as it is right now, gets incredibly warm after a while. Unfortunately, too warm, and I can't regulate this heater to a specific temperature, but I guess better too warm than too cold for liquid water.

Fourth: I thought I would have a chance to negotiate with the humane society for a cat of my own--the pet store had several really great cats today, very sociable and I was very inspired to see if the rumors are true. I want a furry companion in my life, even if my life is on wheels, and I would rather adopt a healthy pet than buy one at a ridiculous price that might be sickly.

I guess my final side point is that I haven't figured out how I want to facilitate my verticality, let alone make it pet- or child-friendly. I mean, I know I want my stairs to double as my wardrobe, so I think I'm going to have to contemplate that a little further. I'm so attached to the idea of combining my storage with my vertical facilitation, and I'm also, for better or worse, terribly attached to the drawers I've been keeping my clothes in for almost two years. But I think the age/design of the drawers will come in handy for the idea I'm contemplating. And given that it's just too much effort to figure out how to hide my stairs while I'm using the lofted space, I'll save my time and energy. It's also beneficial to leave the stairs open while I sleep in case I have a pet or small human who wants to use my bed, or in the event I wake up for nature calls or wake up late for work or otherwise need to leave my sleeping area in a hurry. I can offer more structure to the storage stair by.....wait......ummm......ooh, here we go: build the front six inches of each stair in like, inch sheathing? over maybe 1×1s?? But the part where I put my foot, on every other stair, would have to drop down when the stair is pulled out. It would be cohesive to carry the look through. And now, I suppose we wait. Because this weekend is basically gone. The best I might hope for yet is to start building the frame. I was debating between clean, pretty 45° cuts and rough, sloppy 90° angles edge to edge, and I've decided to do the 45° angles on the frame that will hold the shell aloft, and try to cut some neat 90° joins in the corners, to join the two walls together. I think with some screws in from the front/back and sides, plus I was going to use a generous bead of silicone in place of wood glue (not sure this is a terrific idea? But I'm thinking of the waterproofing value). I might be able to do a lot of sawing tomorrow, but knowing me, I'll saw enough boards to assemble one wall, need a couple days for my muscles to recover, use at least one off day to assemble the sawn lumber, and hopefully install by next Friday. If it really takes me more than one day to be ready for more sawing, I haven't even started insulating the shell, I barely started painting the shell, and from the sounds of it (I haven't taken an opportunity to investigate myself) the back hatch of the shell won't close because of rust on the latch, so maybe some actual rust treat, some WD40, it should close properly. I'm going to build the paneling slightly over the lip of the hatch to keep it closed for winter. Or maybe I'll put some hinges on the paneling back there so the loft opens? I'll think about it. Maybe if the rust is the only problem with the hatch, I'll just have the hatch available to open. Who knows.

Anyway.

Basically watched my dad wrestle a hundred gallon fuel tank into the storage bin, so he could still have the space to offer to help his friend move. That took about an hour, then he bought lunch, by which time I was starving.

I've been contemplating the storage thing and writing this while they load the truck. Instead of making up for missing yesterday's NaNoWriMo word count. Oh well. I've got a lot of things figured out for my van and I'm ready to start building. I've been ready. The sooner I can not have to sleep in the same building as my mother, let alone the same group of rooms.....the better. I've got my shell, I've got some lumber to start, my dad has a saw and drill, I can purchase some hardware, and while I'm out for hardware, I can get some sheathing and more spray foam. I'm planning to use the spray foam to seal and insulate, as well as shurforming it, giving it a nice generous layer of priming before painting, which will bring back the cohesion on my exterior.

So as far as I'm concerned, here's the riddle: Do I paint my extension walls all white, all copper, or half and half? I still want to cover those stripes with the copper paint, so maybe it would add strong cohesion to paint it half and half, but it's going to bee a pain in the butt either way to tape everything off all pretty....

As far as I'm concerned, I've got this project figured out. I just need to get my hands dirty. The sooner, the better. At least get some wood and the insulation done this coming week; if I'm lucky, finish the painting before Friday. It would be bothersome to take it out in public half painted.....but definitely not life or death. It would feel worse to take it out covered in unfinished spray foam.