#i promise you it's not in a 'i only enjoy a more elevated humor' kind of way bc i turned that off and went to a fucking markiplier video

[arosebyan0thername]

Wanted to start watching Superstore (partly in hopes of retail humor but largely because I'm low on options for disability representation that isn't depressing) but I'm finding it very hard to want to continue past season 1 episode 1 because of, and I'm sorry to be this guy, the absolutely nauseating amount of focus given to heterosexual romance

[finalgirlkateausten]

trying to figure out how their daily life will look/change when the baby's there for rhekker? any/no au idm!!

IDK if this exactly fits the prompt but I wanted to write NICU Parents!rhekker. so pls enjoy some triplet NICU angst <333

Connor shifts a little in his seat, trying to bring back feeling in his left shoulder while still letting Ava rest in his arms. She has a paperback novel in her hands, but she keeps sighing at odd intervals, fidgeting with her IV line or pushing her hair from her face or adjusting her position against him, and he hasn't seen her turn the page in at least ten minutes.

"Avey," he says, hoping to distract her at least a little, "Hannah says you're probaby gonna get discharged tomorrow."

"I know," she says flatly, fluttering the pages of her book with her fingers, "it's stressing me out."

At that, Connor does pull his arm free, sitting up so he can turn around and see her face. "What? Leaving the hospital is what's stressing you out?"

"Yes," she sighs, another huff of impatience fluttering her dry-shampooed hair. "Here I may have to put up with IV poles and wheelchairs, but at least I'm only an elevator ride away from my babies. Now we're going to be forced back into our normal lives and only get a few hours a day with them, if we're lucky..."

Now that she mentions it, Connor feels a similar pit open in his stomach when he thinks about having to be even further away from his sons. Regardless, he tries to comfort Ava, taking her hand in his.

"Woah, woah. A, we're not going straight back to our normal lives-- you know we're off work for at least a few months. It'll be good to have some time to recuperate in our own bed, right?" He squeezes her hand. "And B, I know it feels like we're leaving them, but... we're not, Ava, we're not." He pauses to swallow down the lump in his throat. "I promise you're gonna feel so much better once we're back at home and you aren't stuck in a hospital room all day. And we'll come back to the NICU as much as you're up for it."

"As much as I'm up for it?" She shakes her head. "What kind of mother takes time just to rest when her babies are hurting?"

Connor hugs her as tight as he can in lieu of a response. "Ava. Ava. You're an amazing mother. The boys are getting the care they need, but more importantly, they're getting the love they need from you and me. The road ahead might be a little bumpy, but I promise you, all five of us are gonna come out the other side."

"I don't want to leave them," Ava says hoarsely. "How are you not terrified, Connor? There's a voice in the back of my head that's just insisting that as soon as we're separated from them, something is going to happen, something is going to go wrong, and we won't-- I won't be there."

"Baby," Connor breathes, almost unable to form words, "you think I'm not scared out of my mind? I promise, I am right there with you. I can start freaking out too, if it will make you feel better." He tries to smile, uncertain if his dose of humor is helpful or not.

In answer, Ava heaves a long, heavy sigh, tilting her head where it rests on his shoulder so that she can look up at him. "I don't know how to handle this," she murmurs. "I feel like I'm going insane."

Connor takes her hand and lays it in the center of his chest. "I know you can feel my heartbeat right now," he says. "I know you know how fast it's racing. It's been like that since the moment you delivered the boys, and honestly, I'm starting to feel like that's just how it's gonna stay."

Ava's laugh is so slight that for a second Connor doesn't catch it. "Maybe you should see a cardiologist," she jokes.

"Or maybe we'll get out of this insanity sometime," he says gently. "Maybe if we hold on tight enough, we can take a deep breath, together, and stop being afraid."

"I'm going to be afraid until the moment they come home," Ava points out.

"See what you did there?" Connor strokes her hair. "You told us both they're coming home."

"I want them to come home with us," she protests.

"I do too, baby," he agrees, "but it's gonna be just the two of us for a little while longer."

"No," Ava says, lifting her head, "it's never going to be just the two of us again."

Connor leans his forehead against hers, her hand still on his heart. He threads his fingers into her hair, bracing her against him and himself against her.

"Good."

[kevinsreviewcatalogue]

Review: Totally Killer (2023)

Totally Killer (2023)

Rated R for bloody violence, language, sexual material, and teen drug/alcohol use

<Originally posted at https://kevinsreviewcatalogue.blogspot.com/2023/10/review-totally-killer-2023.html>

Score: 3 out of 5

Totally Killer is a film where you can see the marks of Happy Death Day written all over it. That movie, which has grown in my estimation over the years, set a template for a kind of horror-comedy that Blumhouse has since come to specialize in, one that combines a slasher movie storyline with a big, high-concept hook straight out of a classic retro comedy (in Happy Death Day's case, it was Groundhog Day). In this case, director Nahnatchka Khan and writers David Matalon, Sasha Perl-Raver, and Jen D'Angelo not only put a slasher twist on the basic plot of Back to the Future and the Bill & Ted films, they went the extra mile and set large parts of the film in the '80s as well, having its modern-day protagonist confounded by the values of the decade as much as Marty McFly was by the '50s. The result is a film I enjoyed, but wanted to like more than I actually did given the wild ride that the trailers promised. On one hand, it nailed the comedy side of the equation and had a cool-looking killer, a great co-lead performance by Olivia Holt as an '80s mean girl, and a story that seemed to be going in some interesting directions, but on the other, the horror side was fairly rote, it held back on some of the ideas it leaned towards, and its leading lady Kiernan Shipka didn't do much to elevate the material. Ultimately, I'd sooner rewatch The Final Girls as a film that did a superficially similar story more effectively, but I can't deny that there's still a lot to like about this one, and I don't regret having watched it.

The film starts on Halloween in 2023, thirty-six years after Pam Hughes survived a killing spree where three of her friends were murdered by the "Sweet Sixteen Killer", a masked murderer who stabbed each of his victims sixteen times on their sixteenth birthdays in late October. Now, Pam is a soccer mom with a teenage daughter named (what else?) Jamie -- and tonight, she herself gets murdered by the Sweet Sixteen Killer, who was never caught and seems to have come back to finish the job. Jamie, distraught over her mother's death, suddenly receives two leads, first from a local true crime podcaster named Chris who tells her that Pam had received a note from the killer reading "you're next, one day" that she had kept secret, and second from her best friend Amelia, a science whiz who's trying to enter the science fair with a time machine that her mother Lauren designed but which she can't get to work. Thanks to some accidental intervention by the killer, Jamie somehow manages to figure out how to make the machine work, and gets sent back in time to 1987 on the day of the first murder. With a heads-up from the killer, she sets out to not only solve her mother's murder in the present, but also save her mother's friends in the past.

The comedy side of the film was clearly where Khan and the writers were most invested in the material. A lot of humor is mined from Jamie's reactions to not only how different the adults in her life were when they were her age, but also how the '80s were a very different time when it came to everything from politics to permissiveness, and not necessarily for the better, a rather appropriate perspective to take given how much of the film's plot concerns Jamie realizing just how much of a bitch her mother was back when she was her age. And on that note, Olivia Holt as young Pam was this film's heart and soul, not only looking like a perfect dead ringer for a young Julie Bowen (who plays her grown-up self) but understanding the assignment and feeling like nothing less than a more mean-spirited (if still heroic) version of the characters that her idol Molly Ringwald plays. Whenever Holt was on screen, which was fortunately often, this movie sparkled to life. The supporting cast, too, served as capable accomplices for Holt, whether it's their job to act frightened or make you laugh, and occasionally do both at the same time. (One kill in particular late in the film stands as one of the funniest "comedy" deaths I've ever seen.) The horror side of the film was a fairly boilerplate whodunit slasher that would be familiar to anyone who's seen Scream (a film that this one namedrops) or any of the films that followed in its wake. However, it was elevated by a killer whose look alone was creepy, wearing a Max Headroom-inspired mask that feels right at home in this movie's darkly comic sendup of the '80s and giving a twisted sort of edge to him. It may have just been aesthetics rather than substance, but those aesthetics were really damn cool, and given how much this movie is powered by a love of the visual and sonic landscape of '80s pop culture, it was exactly what the movie needed.

It was fortunate that this movie had Holt and its totally killer (sorry) style propelling it, because there were otherwise a lot of weak links here -- and unfortunately, they were some big ones. For starters, while I liked Kiernan Shipka on Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, I found myself very disappointed with her performance here, a problem given that she was supposed to be the main character. She acquitted herself well enough with the scares and as the "straight man" to the humor, but this film was built around Jamie's relationship with her mother, and while Holt carried her side of that story well enough, Shipka fell flat and couldn't get me interested in the character. What's more, the writing missed some very interesting and incisive directions that it could've gone in, tying Jamie's shock at her mother's awful behavior as a teenager to the jokes poking fun at the political incorrectness of the '80s and using both to craft a broader theme about how our memories of the past are all too often colored by selective nostalgia that glosses over the uncomfortable sides of the things we love. It's a dramatic throughline that was practically right there, waiting to be tapped, and yet the film barely even seems to think about how two of its primary elements might connect to one another. Finally, the reveal of the killer's identity was telegraphed almost from the moment we're introduced to one particular character, and the film did nothing to play around with it, resulting in a flat, uninteresting villain with a motive that's been done many times before and often better.

The Bottom Line

Totally Killer is goofy to a fault, seeming to actively avoid finding any deeper meaning in what it's saying in favor of delivering a sugar rush of '80s nostalgia. On that front, it delivered exactly what it set out to, a mix of retro aesthetics, lots of funny jokes, and a performance by Olivia Holt that ought to be a stepping stone to bigger and better things. If you wanna have some fun, check it out, though I do wish it got a bit meatier than it wound up being.

[readerstories]

Tie Reveal - Aaron Hotchner x male!reader

What is it with me and turning short and sweet ideas into long one shots? Yeah so anyway, enjoy (AO3)

Warnings/tags: relationship rreveal, fluff and humor, light angst

Wordcount: 2837

Summary: You come into work wearing the wrong tie

You hate rushing in the morning, preferring to start your day in a calm and relaxed manner. That’s not on the table for today however, as you and Aaron both rush to get dressed.

“You’re going to be late.” You say as you button your shirt, glad you had had the forethought to grab on from your to go bag, as not wake any suspicion or teasing from the team. Aaron glances at the clock as he puts his shoes on.

“It’s still before the time you usually get in.”

“Yeah, but not for you.” You pick up your ties from the floor, giving Aaron’s to him. You’re quick to put yours on, Aaron mirroring you.

“I’ll just say that I got a flat tire.” You nod, stealing a quick kiss from him as you grab your jacket on the way out.

“Okay, see you at work!” You’re out the door before he can respond, making your way quickly down, not even bothering with the elevator in your haste to get to your car.

—-

You make it to work on time, only a few minutes later than usual, but that can be blamed on the fresh coffee in your hand from the coffee shop down the street.

As the elevator plings to announce your arrival on the right floor, you’re met by Garcia, Reid, and Morgan standing right outside, groaning as they spot you.

“Well, good morning to you guys too.” You say with a confused look at them all as you step out.

“It’s not you, we’re just just waiting for Hotch.” Garcia explains and you raise a brow, faking confusion.

“Hotch? Isn’t he here already?”

“No, so I got worried, so I checked his phone and it was pinging on the road just outside his apartment building, which is weird cause he’s normally the first one here-”

“Are you even supposed or allowed to do that outside of a case or emergency?” Garcia hesitates, and you huff and shake your head at them.

“Well, I’m going to go and start work, like you all should.” You leave the team as they go back to watching the elevator doors, quickly shooting off a text to Hotch to let him know that the flat tire excuse won’t work.

A few minutes later you hear a happy Garcia shout Hotch’s name and seconds later he comes in through the glass doors, followed by Garcia, Reid, and Morgan.

“Guys, I’m fine, I just slept trough my alarm this morning.”

“But you never do that.” Garcia responds, hot on his heels.

“So what’s her name?” Morgan quips, Hotch stops in his tracks to give him a withering glare before resuming his path to his office.

“Ohhh, lover boy!” Morgan teases at Hotch’s back.

“Remember we got a briefing in ten minutes sir!” Garcia yells after him before the door to his office is closed behind him. You hide your smile behind your coffee, trying not to bring much attention to yourself. Garcia leaves to prepare a few last things for the briefing, but Reid and Morgan linger next to your desk, still standing.

“Do you really think that’s what made him late?” Reid asks.

“Come on, that man never misses anything and sleeps light, and Jack is away for a week, so what else could it be?” Morgan glances at you. “What do you think?” You take a sip of your coffee, pretending to think.

“Maybe, or maybe he is telling the truth. The man is only human, and with the amount of hours he spends in the office he might actually just have slept trough his alarm.” Morgan nods, but doesn’t seem convinced.

You all make your way into the meeting room. You sit down in the chair next to a standing Garcia as you often do, Reid, Morgan, JJ, and Rossi joining you around the table, Hotch striding in as usual a few minutes later.

“Garcia, please begin.” He stays on his feet, ready to go as soon as he can.

“Look to the screen my mighty crime fighters, because today you’re goi-”

“You’ve switched ties.” Reid cuts Garcia off mid-sentence, making everyone look at Reid, wondering what in the world he is talking about. He points at you.

“You and Hotch, you’ve switched.” Both of you look down, then at each other as the team looks between the two of you. Shit, he’s right.

“When you came in I saw your tie was the same as Hotch wore yesterday, a grey tie with a Gucci pattern. I just thought you had bought the same one, since you both have a similar taste in ties, but Hotch got the same as you wore yesterday, a grey tie with stripes, which still has the small coffee stain from when you spilled some yesterday.” Hotch frowns as lifts up the tie to inspect it, and yes, there’s indeed a small, barely noticeable speck of coffee about halfway up the tie he is wearing. No one says anything for a few seconds, you yourself have turned into a statue, neutral expression on your face. Hotch is much the same, everyone else looking between you two. Garcia is the first one to break the silence, squealing with glee.

“Omg, omg, guys!” She yells as she hugs you from behind, the angle a little awkward with how she leaning over your sitting form. You’re not stone anymore, but you don’t return the hug before she lets you go. Morgan and JJ are both grinning, Rossi is looking at Hotch with smile, Reid is trying not to do the same at you while you glare daggers at him. Hotch sighs.

“Garcia...” His tone is chastising, reminding everyone that there is something else to focus on, which seems to snap her back to work mode. Sort of.

“Right, right, case, lets just brush past that revelation about two of my best friends, so, uhhh, where were we? Or right! Today you’re going to-” She begins to explain the case, both you and Hotch get a few more glances before everyone turns their focus on the case.

----

On the jet you think you’re in the clear, until Rossie settles in the seat next to you. Which is odd, because you’re the only two on the jet so far, and he usually doesn’t sit next to you.

“So you and Hotch huh?” You pretend to read over the case files in front of you, and Rossi chuckles.

“You know, none of us expected a thing. Well done on hiding it from a group of profilers I must say.”

“Rossi, there’s nothing-”

“There’s nothing?” He’s grinning, clearly teasing as he looks down to your tie and taps it with a finger. “Something tells me otherwise.” You sigh, but are saved from answering by the rest of the team joining you on the jet. Everybody buckles down for take off, and not long after you’re in the air, and then all the attention is on the case.

For a little while at least.

You can tell they want to talk about it, but the case keeps everyone occupied, so there’s nothing else before JJ comes back from the hotel with the room cards. Everyone is spread around doing different tasks, so she finds you alone in the conference room the team had been given. You’re reading trough the victims files for some more specifics on victimology when she places a keycard on the table in front of you. You look up, startled as you hadn’t even noticed her entering the room.

“You’ve seen Hotch?” She asks and you furrow a brow.

“I think he’s talking to the police chief in his office, why?”

“His key card, but you can just give it to him when you see him, since you’re sharing a room.”

“I thought we were past the budget cuts-”

“Oh we are, but Garcia made some changes to the booking after this mornings briefing sooo....” JJ grins and you sigh, rubbing your forehead. There’s silence and no movement for a few seconds, then there’s a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, you know we will always support you guys right?” You sigh heavily, resting your own hand on top of JJ’s, looking up at her.

“I know, it’s just... It wasn’t revealed in the best way.” She grimaces.

“Yeah.” She looks uncertain how to respond, but seems to go for light, which you are grateful for. “But I’m surprised none of us caught on until then, it has been going on for at least a couple of months right?” You try to hide your grin as you pretend to go back to reading the files.

“Well, I’m not a ‘kiss and tell’ kinda guy, but it’s a bit more than a couple months.” JJ laughs and pats your shoulder before leaving the room.

You find Hotch not long after, and when you tell him the whole situation around the shared room, he sighs too, but mostly in a ‘oh what can you do’ kind of way, seemingly mostly resigned to everyone knowing now.

Even with sharing the same room and not needing to hide anything from the team, you go back to the hotel without him. The man is a workaholic, and you want a shower and some sleep, but he promises to join you soon. Instead you end up sharing a car with Reid and Morgan, neither of which say anything in the car, but while you’re waiting for the elevator, all bets seems to be off.

“So, you and the bossman huh?” Morgan teases with a grin as you do your best to ignore him, watching the numbers on the display tick down. The elevator door opens and you quickly step inside, hoping to leave them both behind. But alas, no such luck, as they step inside and Reid presses the button to the floor above yours.

“You know, work place relationships aren’t actually that uncommon. Did you know-” Here you tune him out, once again watching the numbers off the elevator. Normally you like when Reid goes on a tangent, but now, not so much.

“Reid, I will strangle you with my tie to shut you up if I have to.”

“Don’t you mean Hotch’s tie?” The grin on his face is shit-eating, which is rare from Spencer, and Morgan laughs loudly. The combination of it makes you curse under your breath as the doors finally open to your floor. You don’t bother saying goodbye, just going straight down the hall towards the door with your room number on it. Sliding the keycard in, it opens with a click. You drop your bag on the floor as soon as the door shuts behind you, and you switch on the lights.

You can’t help it.

You laugh as you take in the big room in front of you.

Or rather, the suite.

The honeymoon suite by the looks of it. Red and white decor, candles, big bed, nicely decorated with towels shaped like a heart, and some champagne in an ice-bucket on the desk in the room. There’s a small white card right next to the champagne, which you quickly read. ‘Have fun ;) -G’. You snort at it, that woman is a menace. (But also very nice, but you do shoot her text to warn her that she should sleep with one eye open. The only response you get is a winking emoji).

A surprisingly short time later you hear the door to the suite unlock, alerting you to Aaron’s arrival where you just stepped out of the shower. He calls your name in a questioning tone, you’re quick to respond as you wrap a towel around your mostly dry form.

“In here, one sec.” You step out of the bathroom, Aaron’s attention going straight to you before pointedly looking around the room. You lean on the door frame of the bathroom.

“Garcia.” You offer as an explanation.

“Ah.” He accepts, looking around once more. “This is going to be a fun expense report.” You snort at that, pushing yourself of the door frame and walking over to him. Putting your arms around his neck, you pull him close for a kiss.

“Certainly, but let us enjoy it for now, I’m sure Garcia has an explanation locked and ready for the report when we need it.” Aaron tries not to smile at that, but is halfway to failing when you catch his lips in a kiss.

----

The next time your relationship is brought up is on the jet back when the case ends well a few days later. Everyone have found their way to pass the time as usual. Reid and Rossi are playing chess in the one of two seaters, Morgan is half asleep, JJ is typing away on her phone next to him, across from them in the aisle seat is Hotch who has started on more paper work already, and you’re laying down on the couch across from them reading a book.

Everybody is in their own little bubble, that’s until Rossi is standing in the aisle and clearing his throat. Everyone looks at him, even Derek who JJ jostles awake with an elbow. Rossi got a bottle of expensive looking whiskey in one hand, several glasses in the other.

“I believe a little celebration is in order.” He starts handing out glasses, you sit up and close your book as you accept yours, just as Garcia pops up on the screen over the couch.

“What for?” You ask, genuinely curious, giving Garcia a look trough the screen, a very grinning and happy looking Garcia.

“Well, the case went well, we saved several people, and ah yes, your not so secret relationship anymore.”

“Rossi-” You and Hotch try to say something at the same time, but Rossi doesn’t let either of you speak another word.

“Oh no no no, neither of you get to Rossi me. Just shut up and listen okay?” He pours a hefty helping of whiskey in everyone’s glass as he speaks, even Garcia got a glass back home somehow, no doubt filled with something similar.

“We just want you both to know that we are very happy for you, both of you. And though the way us knowing came about wasn’t ideal, we will always support and be there for you.” You and Hotch look around at your team, noting the happy faces watching you before making brief eye contact.

“I want you all to know that nothing in this team changes with this, we’re still going to work together and remain professional while on the clock. There will be no preferential treatment here.”

“What he said.” You incline your head towards Hotch as you look around the jet once more.

“Aaron, we know that. Like I said, we just want you both to be happy.” Rossi says, soft smile on his face. You raise your glass, trying to pretend that the slight sting you can feel in your eyes is just tiredness.

“Cheers to that.” Everyone joins in, clinking their glasses together in loud celebration and happy voices, Garcia cheering with her glass against the camera lens back home. Everyone takes a sip of the whiskey, several mentioning the smooth burn of it.

“So, how long have you two love birds been together?” Morgan eyes flicker between you and Aaron.

“See, that right there Morgan is the million dollar question.” Rossi points between you both. “Come on, out with it.” You grin, trying and failing to hide your grin behind taking another sip of the whiskey, Aaron doing the same.

“Do you want to tell them or should I?” You ask, getting up to lean on the chair Aaron is sitting in. He looks up at you, taking your hand and placing it on his shoulder.

“I think you should.”

“Okay.” You say with a shrug, looking at all of the team before settling your gaze on Spencer. “Remember the strangulation serial killer we caught in LA earlier this year?”

“We caught him and finished that case 6 months, 11 days, and 9 hours ago.” Spencer helpfully supplies.

Then it dawns on them all what that means.

Yells of surprise from everyone, and this time neither you or Aaron try to hide your matching grins. Rossi is laughing loudly while slapping his knee, Reid seems to have lost his composure, mumbling that he should have seen something sooner, Garcia is speechless for perhaps the first time since you have known her, Morgan looks frozen in shock, and JJ is trying to hide her laughter behind her hand.

“6 months? How even?!” Morgan exclaims. You shrug, your grin shit-eating by now.

“What can I say, we’re good profilers and now how to hide our tells.” You glance at Aaron and squeezes his shoulder, who in return brings your hand to his lips for a brief kiss on your knuckles. Garcia squeals from her screen, gushing over how cute the two of you are as you smile and laugh in response.

[apocalypticgargoyle]

Dream smut or fluff where reader and him are high key mean to eachotjer despite having so many mutual friends, but then something (very vague i know I’m sorry) makes them have to get close and the develop feelings? Sorry I’m shit at requests but thank you!!!

i know this is shitty im sorry akjsdh bls forgive me

𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑. ♘ 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

± warnings: dream being a dick, slight slut shaming, toxic behavior, vulgar/suggestive mentions and language, sexual harassment on a bus (not by dream, you can breathe)

⋆ song recommendation: When the Night is Over by Lord Huron

You pulled a blanket beneath your chin, yawning slightly at whatever the tv was playing. You only had it on in an attempt to drown out the noises coming from your roommate's bedroom as she smoozed her date. You were honestly shocked the two hadn’t moved in together yet with all the time they spent wrapped up.

Her door opened, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of you sprawled out on the couch. He marched toward you quietly, hovering over your shoulder. You peered up at her hesitantly. “What are you watching?” She asked, voice barely above a whisper. You furrowed your brows, opening your mouth to speak but she hurriedly cut you off. “Do you mind watching it at Nick’s instead?”

You raised your eyebrows. “You’re kicking me out again?” She gave you an apologetic smile, making you roll your eyes as you stood up and pulled on your jacket. “This would hurt less if they also paid rent,” you mumbled, with a small glare.

She thanked you repeatedly, holding onto your arm as you gathered what little belongings you needed for the night. “I promise I’ll make it up to you,” she courted, opening the door for you. “Tomorrow, dinner’s on me okay?” You sent her a tired look and she apologized again. She stopped you as you stepped out into the cold night, leaning through the space between the door and the frame. “Maybe you can cozy up to that Clay guy? You guys have such a good vibe,” she mocked, making you chuckle lightly.

You shook your head, waving to her. “Enjoy your night. Please, for the love of God, clean the bathroom afterward,” you called, hearing her laugh at your statement.

The bus ride was quiet due to the time of night and the weather, both of which you didn’t mind. You knew Nick’s house would be warm and loud. Before you knew it, you found yourself in front of his apartment door, kicking at the concrete ground as you heard someone stumbling to let you inside. The door opened swiftly, Clay’s large frame blocking the light from the kitchen. He leaned against the doorframe mockingly as he looked at you.

He wet his lips. “Who’s the lucky guy tonight?” He joshed.

You rolled your eyes, brushing past his body to get out of the cold. “Whoever’s dick you’re not sucking, I guess,” you quipped back, making him laugh darkly. You kicked off your shoes as he shut the door. “Where’s Sapnap?” You asked, shrugging off your jacket. You’d texted him ahead of time to ask if you could stay over, which he readily agreed to.

Clay sent you a smug look. “You guys have a fun night planned?” He made a gesture with his hand to insinuate you were there to give Nick a handjob.

You bit back a chuckle. “Why? You wanna join?” You shot back. He bit his lip and moaned pornographically.

“Cut it out, Dream,” Nick grumbled as he walked into the room. He pulled on your arm to follow him.

Dream scoffed exasperatedly. “Me? I’m not the one who started it!” He called after the two of you.

As Nick pushed you out of the room, you turned your head. “You most certainly did!” You answered. You heard him chuckle at your words as Nick shut the door to his room. You plopped down on his bed as he sat in his chair, swiveling to look at you. “Why does Dream pick at me so much?” You mumbled, fishing in your pockets for your phone.

“He’s jealous,” Nick answered absent-mindedly. “What's the date look like tonight?” He asked, referring to the reason you were there in the first place. This wasn’t the first time or the last time your roommate had kicked you out. It was becoming a more frequent occurrence for you to end up on Nick’s couch or at their place in the middle of the day with your toothbrush and a change of clothes.

You moved to lean into his pillows. “I don’t know, it's the same granola fucker she’s been hanging around,” you answered.

He rubbed his chin with a slight smirk. “There’s a subtle justice to knowing she’s still with that asshat,” he commented, making you snort.

A week later, you were on your way back to your apartment after a lecture when someone felt you up. It was the straw on the camel’s back for you as you spin around to smack the guy, stirring up a few of the bystanders. You’d walked the rest of the way home, stepping through the door to be met with your roommate and her hookup twisted together in the kitchen.

You clamped your hand over your eyes, mumbling about how you just wanted to take a nap when you were once again sent to Nick’s. You let subtle tears fall as you trudged your way across the city, hoping to get out whatever darkness you had to your attitude. The last thing you wanted to do was confront Clay looking like you did. He was like the troll with the keys to the bridge. That was really the only reason the two of you ever talked, so you knew he’d be waiting to berate you before you could get to Nick.

As you walked into the building, you spotted Clay carrying a large box, his hair slightly disheveled and his hands dirty. You knew almost instantly that he was probably attempting to fix the kitchen sink and got a call because of the size of the package. That sink had been dripping since they’d moved in, making it Clay’s mission to futz around with it every Friday afternoon. You tried helping him one time, only ending up with a deflated sense of confidence and the second wave of your childhood anger issues.

He nodded at you as you held the elevator door open for him. “What’s up, babycakes?” He chirped, popping his gum. When you hesitated to answer, he looked at you fully, scoffing. “Damn, walk of shame gone sour?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, inhaling deeply to try and calm your nerves. “I’m not really in the mood today,” you muttered, tucking your hands between your back and the wall.

He snorted, setting the box down between his feet. “You’re always in the mood! Isn’t that like your thing,” he continued to jeer. “You look like you had a fun night though-”

“Clay, stop. I’m serious,” barked at him. His expression twisting at your use of his name.

He raised his hands in mock defense. “Sorry, I thought we had---like a bit thing, um-” he cut himself off, awkwardly shoving his fists in his pockets. After a beat of silence between the two of you, the elevator came to a sharp halt on the wrong floor, the light switching to red. The two of you shared a look, knowing that the landlord was probably flipping the wrong switches again. Clay texted Nick to see what was going on.

It began to grow colder in the elevator, as it usually did. When it was off, the cold from outside usually seeped in through the elevator shaft. There was one time you were stuck in the elevator for a few hours with one of your neighbors and Karl when he had come to visit. Back then, the three of you played Uno on the guy’s phone. It was also summer, so the chill creeping up your legs wasn’t as intolerable as it was now.

You rubbed the arms of your sweater in hopes of generating some kind of warmth. Clay watched you carefully, his hands moving to grip the bar behind him. “Do you want my sweatshirt?” He offered. You shook your head, sliding onto the ground and hugging your knees to your chest. He hesitantly slumped down beside you, kicking his long legs out towards the door. The red light filling the space made his features look softer.

He nudged your arm gently with his own. “I know I’m not Sapnap, but…” he chewed on the inside of his cheek, shrugging slightly, “I mean, we’re stuck in here. We can talk about it.”

You blinked away the tears threatening to spill once again, your eyes burning and tired. “I haven’t slept with him, you know?” You stated, turning to look at him briefly before moving to sit cross-legged, planning with your fingers. “I’ve never even kissed him. I’ve never kissed anyone,” you scoffed. Clay was silent, but out of the corner of your eye, you could see him watching you intently.

Being this close to him, you could smell the smoky vanilla undertones of his cologne. The scent reminded you of a masculine version of the candle your aunt always burned when she went out for a night to spite her ex-husband.

Clay leaned his head back against the wood paneling, his soft blond hair flattening in the back to spread against the wall. You swallowed, sighing slightly. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet and I’m getting groped on the bus and kicked out of my damn apartment because my roommate and her fucking boyfriend have to hook up on every surface. Nothing is sacred.” You shook your head, wiping away some stray tears with the back of your hand and sniffling pathetically. “You can keep making slut jokes, I don’t care. But I swear to God, I haven’t done anything with Sapnap. Or Karl, or Quackity. No one.”

He chuckled softly. “I know. That’s why I used to make those jokes,” he mumbled. “It was like… ironic humor. And then it got so far that the only way I knew you’d talk back to me was if I was fucking around with you,” he admitted. You chuckled slightly at his words, taking a deep breath.

“Oh, Dream,” you sighed. “I would have hooked up with you if you weren’t such an ass,” you chided. His laugh made you feel better. He held his hand out to you, more for support than anything, but as you laced your fingers with his, your heart eased, feeling safe beside him.

After a beat of silence, he spoke up again. "I can ride the bus with you now... if you want..." He offered, a shyness that seemed so foreign to his character shown through his eyes. "I promise I won't grope you," he joshed, making you roll your eyes.

"That's really not something we should be joking about," you mumbled, wiping away the rest of your tears on your sleeve.

His thumb brushed against the back of your hand soothingly. "I mask my awkwardness around you in dark humor. I'm sorry."

[ppersonna]

thunder - ksj | m

your voice was the soundtrack of my summer. do you know you're unlike any other? you'll always be my thunder. - thunder, boys like girls

↳ summary- you allow your best friend Jin to take you backpacking once per year.  apparently, this year’s outing would be the wettest yet.

↳ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

↳ pairing- kim seokjin x reader

↳ word count- 6k

↳ genre- fluff, tiny angst, smut, comedy

↳ warnings- penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, light dom!jin, light sub!reader, fucking in tents haha ha ha ha, cum play, cum eating, possessive dirty talk

↳ a/n- wow hello! its been so long since i uploaded a fic i almost forgot how to do it! i would like to give you a fic that i’ve had in my storage since march, and one i’m excited to finally finish. i’d be nowhere without @taetaewonderland​ @xjoonchildx​ @ladyartemesia​ for hyping me up to post it in the first place.  thank u to @shadowsremedy​ for being my fav beta ily ily ily. enjoy my babes! pls feel free to message me!

 “Kim Seokjin, if you got us lost, I’m going to murder you,” you seethed as your pulled your booted foot out of a slick puddle of mud. 

“I didn’t get us lost, dear. The map is wrong,” he replied coolly as he twisted the crumpled map from portrait to landscape, and back again. “I’m an excellent navigator, but when the tools I have are faulty…”. 

You grumbled, stopping your walk to sit on a fallen log. You sighed audibly at your best friend, still maneuvering in the small clearing in the forest, trying to match the map to where you were. You chanced a look at the sky as you sought to catch your breath and sate your anger. Dark, heavy clouds were forming, the kind that didn’t just indicate a sprinkle but a torrential downpour. 

“Shit, Jin. It’s going to storm soon,” you warned.  

He stopped his map seeking and glanced at the sky, frown buried deep in his face. 

Instantly, as if it never changed, he returned to his bright and cheery demeanor. 

“Well! Looks like we should work faster to make it back to camp, huh?” 

Seokjin would be excited for an unexpected kink in your plans. The boy was obsessed with “roughing it”. You agreed to one weekend with minimal hiking. Camping, in your opinion, was meant to be spent drunk around a fire eating s’mores and telling scary stories, not walking for miles through nothing but trees, mud, and probably bears.

Camping had never been your favorite hobby, and you allowed Seokjin to take you off trail backpacking once per year. The man looked forward to it, planned it several months in advance, and counted down the days until he stuffed you in his Jeep down a deserted forest highway to the campsite. 

Only, Jin never took the “minimal hiking” thing too seriously. 

“It’s an easy hike,” he had promised you that morning as you set up camp. “More of a stroll than anything.” 

You kicked at the dirt beneath you now, upset you had listened to the dark-haired man’s empty promises. 

“How about we just go back the way we came from?” You suggested as you stood up and brushed the dirt off your backside from the log. 

“Nonsense,” he sniffed. “I’ve got it right here. We can take this trail,” he gestured at a clearing through the trees, “for about a mile, turn left at the open valley, and we’ll be back at camp two miles after that!”  He proclaimed his findings as if it were so easy, so obvious. 

“Great, three miles of hiking. After we’ve already done four, at least.”

“Yes, my ever-positive sunshine, you should be happy I found us a shortcut.” He patted your head and smiled at you as he adjusted your backpack strap that was sliding off your shoulders. He lingered, eyes on you and your lips for just a fraction too long, before he turned and began leading you through the forest. 

Your heart was racing, unrelated to the elevation or the hike. 

You gave in so easily to Jin not because he was your best friend since childhood, but also because he was the man you were hopelessly in love with. 

You’d been smitten with the older boy since your senior year of high school, when he jokingly asked you to prom and you realized you wanted Seokjin courting you to be a regular occurrence. 

You stayed by his side through it all, all girlfriends and breakups. It hurt to watch him with another, but maintaining his friendship was more important than anything else and you weren’t about to lose him to a crush that you could easily just avoid. 

Seokjin was attached to your hip, a fact your friends never let you live down. They were relentless in encouraging you two to be alone, and for you to admit your feelings to him. They told you they were sure he would reciprocate it.  

Unbeknownst to them, you had admitted it. 

You and Jin once got messy drunk on the floor of your apartment, where you slithered up into his lap and whispered your secret devotion to your best friend. Seokjin merely laughed and kissed your nose. You were so embarrassed and rejected you never brought it up again. Best to leave it be, rather than bring a 15 year friendship to a screeching halt. 

So—you valiantly stood by him as his best friend and confidante. You were there when he excitedly told you about his new girlfriend, or when he called you crying over their breakup. Your heart twinged at both; you wanted to be the reason for his excitement and the balm to his wounded heart. 

You allowed Seokjin to take you on all his wild adventures. Like now—traipsing through the forest with no direction in sight, because you would have done nearly anything for the boy.

A crack of thunder shook you from your thoughts and you jumped at the sudden sound. 

“Ah, so cute,” he smiled at you, “still afraid of thunder?”

You blushed and pouted. “It just surprised me, is all.”

He smirked as if to say he didn’t believe you and nodded. “We should get a move on, don’t want to get caught in the rain.” 

You shivered at the thought. It was already cool in the forest; the trees providing enough coverage it locked out any sun, if there had been any. You quickly moved in step behind your best friend. It only took a few minutes of silence before the telltale pitter patter of droplets on leaves began. A fat raindrop landed on your forehead. 

“Fuck,” you groaned. “It’s starting.”  

“I know,” Jin suddenly looked worried, his confident demeanor cracking. He looked back at you and tightened the straps on his backpack. 

“Let’s run?”

You were powerless to deny any request from him. Plus, you didn’t really feel like getting drenched. 

You adjusted your own backpack and took off, running through the quickly dampening forest beside Seokjin. 

The rain came in a downpour. It hit you hard, blurring your vision. Seokjin slipped his hand into yours, not wanting to lose you in the storm. You pushed your legs in time with his, jumping around fell logs and rocks and skipping large puddles. 

You were drenched as Seokjin pulled you into a makeshift canopy of rocks, a momentary pause from the storm to catch your breath. Your hair was soaking wet, as if freshly showered. Seokjin’s hair stuck to his face, and you smiled as he looked at you with concern. It only took a moment until you were both bursting with laughter, finding humor at the moment. 

It was something you loved about Seokjin. He always knew how to make you laugh in times it seemed impossible. 

“This sucks,” you spoke through your joyful laughter.  He nodded in agreement. 

“I think we’re almost back. We need to turn soon, and then we’ve got about two more miles. You ready?”

You agreed and pushed back the slick hair in your eyes, before doing the same for him. His eyes sparkled. You didn’t know what it meant. 

In an instant, you were running again. The backpack bounced against your back and rain pounded your body. The things you did for Kim Seokjin. You were whipped, and you knew it. 

The trail seemed like it went on forever. You both became so tired of running that you slowed and trudged slowly through mud as rain pelted you, accepting your fate of soaking to the bone. You were sure you had never been this drenched in your life.  Your clothes were stuck to your body and dripping down into your shoes and socks. Your teeth chattered in the breeze—it felt as if the wind whipped right through you.  The sky rumbled again, as if warning you to hurry lest it dump more rain on you.

Seokjin was always the caring companion. He rubbed your shoulders and arms to warm them up and promised a roaring fire. You hated how much it made your heart burst.

You were very much looking forward to your one-man tent, stocked with a sleeping bag and blankets. You could strip down and dry off and slip into the warmth of your own personal nest. 

Seokjin waxed poetic about his own spacious tent—a lofty family sized one, and how he made sure he brought his sleeping bag along with 8 thick blankets, and how he couldn’t wait to snuggle down into his own.  Seokjin was the picture of preparedness. He even kept a locking box full of snacks in his tent because the boy was a foodie and couldn’t survive without the treats. It came in handy. 

“What would you do if we were stuck out here forever?” You posed to your best friend, curious about his response and desperate to pass the time as you hiked. 

“Well,” he thought aloud. “I’d miss the guys. But I’d be happy to be stuck out here with you.”  

Your cheeks flushed. 

“You wouldn’t miss, ah—what’s her name? Miya?” 

Seokjin shrugged. “She’s fun. She’s not you, though.”

You couldn’t help but grumble internally. She was good enough to date, and you weren’t. She was different in some respect. 

“Are things not going well with her?” You asked, secretly hoping they weren’t.

“It’s fine. She’s nice and all,” he sighed.  “Just, there’s no spark there, you know?”  

You knew all too well. Any man you tried to date paled compared to your best friend, and the fireworks behind your every heartbeat when you were near him.

“What about you?” He was peering into your eyes and into what felt like your soul. “You and Jungkook sure seem cozy.” His tone sounded annoyed, sarcastic even.

You couldn’t help but bark a laugh. 

“Oh god, no,” you shook your soggy head.  “Not my type. We’re good friends and that’s it. Plus, I’m sure he’s into Jimin.”

Seokjin shrugged again. “You sit on his lap and cuddle up to him all the time…”

“Are you jealous?” You smirked, nudging the man.  Please, god, please be jealous.

“N-No!” He was sharp. “I’m not.”

Ouch.

You remained silent, eyes downcast at your muddy boots as you walked alongside the man.

“Sorry,” he mumbled after a beat of silence. 

“Don’t worry about it, Seokjin. I got it—loud and clear.”

Seokjin looked hurt, a wave of dissatisfaction crossing his features. He wanted to say something, mouth opening to continue his apology. You ignored it wholly. He knew your feelings. There was no way he couldn’t remember that night. You pushed ahead of the man, walking in front of him to avoid his pained gaze and likely hurried apology.  

The light of day was leaving. Everything around you was steadily getting darker, and the rain showed no sign of giving up. You silently begged to be back to the safety of your camp soon, lest you become walking mountain lion bait.

“There’s camp!” Seokjin finally pointed and ran through the rain ahead of you.

“Oh thank fuck,” you sighed, feeling as if it lifted a weight from your shoulders. You couldn’t wait to strip out of your soaking clothes and slither into your blankets.

“Oh shit,” Seokjin whispered, stopping where he stood.  You followed his gaze, concerned about what stopped the boy so quickly.   

Your tent was ripped open, the insides of it exposed to the wind and rain. Everything you owned was soaking wet. You had set it up in a clearing with not too many trees above it, and it appeared the lack of protection against the wind and rain tore the poor fabric to shreds.

A worn-out and distraught sob left your lips.

“No!”  

You ran to the tent and nearly cried. Fortunately, beyond just being soaking wet and useless for the night, everything was intact. There was only no warmth to be had. No warm clothes to change into. Nothing.  

“What the fuck am I going to do?!” 

Seokjin placed a hand on your shoulder.  

“You can share with me?” He sounded hopeful. “We can hang your clothes to dry and when the storm passes, we can build a fire and let your tent air out.  But you should probably sleep in my tent tonight.” 

You bit your lip. You had slept with Seokjin in more beds than you could count, always being forced to share a bed as the designated ‘best friends who don’t care’.  And it was never easy for you. You always woke up with the delicious scent of his cologne and shampoo, and your body curled around his. His hardness would always be pressed up against you, and it took all you had not to wrap your mouth around it to wake him up.

“Yeah, thanks Seokjin,” you breathed. “I’m fucking freezing. And I’m tired. I just want to get some sleep.”

Seokjin slipped his backpack off and pulled yours off your frame. He hung them from a sturdy branch, protected by layers of trees overhead, to let them dry.  

“I have some towels in my tent, go on in. You can get dry and hand me your wet clothes to hang. Then you can get in the blankets and I’ll make us something to eat.”

You blushed. Seokjin hadn’t seen you fully naked, ever; at least not since you were toddlers.

Slipping into his blankets while stark nude would be a dream. It was something you fantasized about more than you’d care to admit. But, in the current conditions, being naked and clammy in the blankets next to your best friend who didn’t return any feelings for you sounded more like an awkward moment waiting to happen.

If Seokjin noticed anything, he didn’t show it. He acted as if making you strip in his tent was a normal thing, nothing out of the ordinary. 

“I’ll wait out here,” he nodded dutifully. 

You slipped out of your muddy boots and socks, and into his tent. It was nice and spacious, and the blankets looked incredibly enticing. It was kind of Seokjin to let you stay with him, even kinder that he would remain soaking wet to make you something to eat. Your body felt so worn out and drained, and you were sure he did too. 

You peeled the wet clothing off of you, every bit, before sticking your head out the door and handing him the clothes.  

“Don’t worry about food, okay? You should get dry too.”  

He wrinkled his forehead. 

“You sure?” 

You bit your lip and nodded. 

“I’m sure. Plus, we have your snacks.”

“Ah, good thinking,” he shot his finger guns at you. “I’ll be there in a minute, then. Hand me a towel and I’ll get undressed out here.”

You shyly handed him a towel, now very aware that you and Seokjin would be in the same tent—naked. The thought thrilled you as much as it scared you. 

It didn’t take long to burrow yourself into his freshly made bed roll, sliding into the neat layers. Seokjin was nearly military in his routine and order.  Everything was always tucked, pressed, and laid down perfectly. 

Your body wracked with shivers and chills—the blankets and sleeping bag were cold from the ambient air outside. You folded yourself together in a fetal position to maintain some warmth. It felt good to lie down on the soft bed mat, but the blankets were doing nothing to provide warmth. 

The sound of the zipper opening the front door flap of the tent made you shake harder. You could feel the wind blow through the opening now. The sound of the storm was loud, and you were grateful for the heavy tarp covering Seokjin’s tent. It provided some respite from the wind and kept all water off the tent. At least Seokjin had been smart in his setup. You ignored the man’s suggestions to set up better, and you were fully regretting it now.

Seokjin had the towel wrapped around his waist and stepped about the tent easily. He dabbed at his upper body with a smaller towel from his suitcase and rubbed his hair dry. The normally perfectly coiffed head was now static-y and sticking up wildly. It would have made you laugh if you weren’t so cold. 

Seokjin moved around you and slid into the blankets, leaving a large space between you, before he threw the towel around his waist onto the floor. He was naked now; you noted internally. You both were. A shiver ran down your spine, unrelated to the relentless chill.

It was silent. All you could hear was the beating of the rain on the tarp and your teeth chattering as you shivered. 

Seokjin stole a look at you, finally, and noticed your position, holding yourself to build warmth. 

“Shit, are you okay?” He asked. 

“I’m j-j-just col-l-ld,” you whispered. “And t-t-tired.”

Seokjin didn’t reply, but you heard the scratching sound of a moving sleeping bag and rustling of blankets and suddenly felt a very warm, very naked body pressed against you. It was blissful, and you moaned out loud at the feel of him spooning you. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. You didn’t know what for, and couldn’t bring yourself to reply. 

You burrowed yourself down into his warmth and felt his arms wrap around you, securing you against him. He radiated heat. He felt like heaven. Your eyes closed—he had you feeling like you had stepped into a delicious sauna.

Seokjin’s muscular arms hadn’t moved an inch since they wrapped around you, but now his hands slowly rubbed at your torso, warming you everywhere his hand dragged. It felt electrifying and your body relaxed easily under his delicate fingertips. 

It started out innocent, rubbing along your stomach and side to warm you further. But his hand began straying north, reaching the crest of your breasts. Your breath hitched as he rubbed over the cold swells. Your nipples were hard from the chill and pebbled even further with the touch of his hands. It made a gasp stick in your throat.

His lips touched your neck, lightly. They were warm too. It seemed his entire body was twenty degrees warmer than your own, and every touch felt like a raging flame. His hands continued rubbing along your breasts as he laved and sucked.

 at the column of your throat.  

As instantly as it began, Seokjin stopped. His hands hovered above your breasts. 

He pressed kisses to your neck and face. “We should sleep, babe,” he sighed.  

You wanted to protest, to push him further, to take care of what he started, but you couldn’t find the energy. Seokjin’s warmth matched with the comfort of his bedroll, and the soothing rise and fall of his breath was lulling you into sleep. Even though it was still early evening, the hike and the run back to safety took it all out of you.  

Seokjin’s arms felt like safety. He secured them around you, slipping just underneath your breasts where his thumb could trace alongside the bottom as you easily succumbed to sleep.

It was still dark when you woke.  

The rain was still coming down, light this time. It sounded relaxing, soothing. Seokjin was still spooning you, sleeping soundly behind you. You twisted in his grasp to gaze at him. 

His hair was dry now, sticking out randomly about his pillow. You were sure if he saw it he’d panic, normally so precise with his looks. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep, none of his chaotic energy and dramatic charisma. 

You loved every facet of Seokjin. You loved the flamboyance, the sensitivity, the deep compassion for his friends.  

You turned around, as gently and quietly as you could, and pressed a hand to his cheek—rubbing at the warm and soft flesh. He sighed softly in his sleep, moving against his pillow. An eye cracked open, and he stared at you. 

“Why are you awake?” He whispered, his voice gentle. “It’s still dark.” 

He was confused, and the look that graced his features was adorable. You wanted to photograph it and frame it, make it the lock screen of your phone. 

You shook your head. 

“Don’t know.”

Seokjin’s hand rubbed at your shoulder, then up to your face. He tucked your hair behind your ear and smiled at you. 

“You look so cute in the moonlight.”

You closed your eyes, letting his compliment wash over you. You couldn’t find the words to reply. You let him continue caressing your cheek, feeling as if you were living a fantasy where Seokjin touched you like a lover. 

You were so close to him, chest pressing against his own. Something about the quiet storm, the dark tent, had you disregarding any embarrassment you should have felt pressing your naked tits to the man's chest, but the spell of the forest had you pressing closer. Your lips were inches apart, and you could feel his breath on your lips. 

The feel of Seokjin’s lips pressing against yours was light, but felt as if all the fireworks in the world exploded behind your eyes and within your belly. It started sweet, gentle. You kissed him like you always wanted to, full of unrequited love and unwavering desire. Your arms slithered around his neck, pulling him even closer against you.  

The kiss turned deeper, mouths opening to allow the passage of tongues. He sought into your mouth, caressing yours with his own, pouring what felt like his very spirit into you. His hand left your back and slid up your sides to press against your breast. 

“Seokjin,�� you murmured, feeling your brain swirl headily. “Feels good.”

He didn’t reply, only kept kissing at your neck and pinching gently at your hardened nipples. It made you cry out, gaping at the slight pain.

“If you want me to stop, tell me.” 

His words were gentle. His hands stilled, stopping all ministrations against you.

Your breath was hard and shaky, matching the erratic beat of your heart in your ribcage. Your unrequited crush of years was now roaming your body, touching you as a lover rather than a friend.

“Please, don’t stop.”

He was on you again, now bloodthirsty for any part of your skin to touch. He tugged at your nipples, suckled up your neck to kiss and lick at the shell of your ears.  You pressed against him, gasping at the feel of his now stiff cock. He circled his hips, relishing in the feel of you against him. You wondered how he would feel inside you. He was thick and long—it would be a stretch, and a most delicious and welcome one.

He pressed you back against the pillow, hovering over your body as he kissed down your neck and sucked at the pressure points there. A pleasured sigh passed through your open lips, reveling in the feel of him on your skin. It was something you dreamed about often. It felt unreal to finally have it. 

You were on display for him, and his eyes raked over you as if you were a Dalí in the Louvre. His hands slid up to cup your breasts, and you tilted your head back to moan. You didn’t care at all about how you looked, how this might be awkward in the next few hours. You cared only about feeling Seokjin within you, getting him off, succumbing to your own pleasure wrought by his hands and his cock.

“Fuck, babe,” he sighed. “Wanted this for a while.”

“Me too,” you gasped as he slid a finger down to your core, circling faintly over your slick folds.

“Have you?”

“Seokjin, I’ve been in love with you since high school.”

Seokjin closed his eyes and smiled, breathing through his nose in contentment.

“You weren’t just saying that when you were drunk then.”

You shook your head, and Seokjin opened his eyes to peer at you.

“No, Seokjin,” you whispered needily, his finger still so torturously close to your clit. “I meant it.”

He leaned down with a smile and planted gentle kisses on your cheeks, adoring and gentle.  

“I’ve been in love with you too. I thought you were just drunk. I never acted on it because I didn’t want to get my heart broken.”

He pulled up and allowed his free hand to cup your cheek.

“I’m going to fuck you now, okay?” He asked. “Like, really fucking hard. You good with that?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. A deep, hearty chuckle passed between both of you, enamored with each other and the situation of being naked and intertwined together, the warmth of your matched confessions surrounding you.  

“Fuck me, please,” you begged.

And Seokjin would be loath to deny you.

His teasing finger finally slid into your core, fucking into you with ease from your slick walls.  You gasped at the welcome intrusion, eyes fluttering closed as he began a slight pace and watched the way you fell apart.

“So pretty,” he whispered. “So fucking pretty.”

He slipped another finger in, scissoring them open as he worked at you.  Your legs trembled, and it made the older man smirk.  

“Look at you,” he praised. “So easily turned into a *gushing* puddle for me.”

You nodded pathetically, back arching as he added yet another finger and pressed at the spot inside you that had your mind spinning and thoughts erasing.

“Oh—God, Jin!”

As much as Jin wanted to see you get off around his fingers, he was desperate for more. You were finally all his—something he’s wanted since he could remember. All he’s wanted was for you to be his.

He pulled his fingers from inside you and smiled as they came out slicked up with your own essence.  He ensured you made eye contact with him, then popped them into his mouth one-by-one, to suck them clean.

It made your mouth nearly fall to the floor as you watched him suck his fingers clean of you. Your body trembled with a need you hadn’t felt before. It was stronger than anything you’d felt before. It was unadulterated desire for Seokjin.

“Mm,” he sighed happily as he pulled the final digit from his mouth. “Delicious, as I thought.”

“Oh, my god,” you gaped. “Jin…,”

The man merely shook his head and smiled, crowding you down and hovering over your lips.

“You’re mine now, you got that?” 

His eyes tracked yours, watching your every movement. It took you a moment to swallow your nerves, to regain any ounce of confidence.

“I’ve always been yours, Seokjin.”

He held you down, watching you with a gleam of wonder in his eye, before surging forward and planting his lips onto yours. His tongue dove in instantly, seeking solace in the warmth of your mouth. Allowing him passage was easy, almost natural. Jin’s tongue swirled around your own as your arms slithered around his neck to bring him closer. Kissing Jin felt like everything you’d imagine it would be, and yet like nothing you could have even dreamed.

Jin didn’t just kiss you—he consumed you. He lapped his tongue into your mouth like he couldn’t get close enough to you. His chest pressed against your body and he groaned into your mouth at the feeling of your perky breasts pushing into his own broad chest.

“Baby,” he whispered as he pulled away. 

It sounded like a dream—the pet name fell from Jin’s lips so easily, as if it were always meant to be spoken to you.

“You’ve always been the one I wanted,” he breathed as he pressed his lips down your neck. “Always the girl I wanted and could never have.”

“Jin,” you gasped as your fingers carded through his hair. “Jin, you’ve always had me.”

He lifted his head and peered deep into your eyes again, so deep it felt like he was glimpsing into your soul.

“I only want you. No one else.”

It knocked you breathless, and it took a moment for you to refill your lungs before nodding.  

“I’m all yours.”

There was acknowledgement in both your admissions. An understanding that there was no more separation of you, and of Jin. That after tonight, it would be a partnership, and the beginnings of something more, something you’ve only dreamt of with the older man.

“Mine,” he whispered, before pressing his lips back to yours.

The kiss was sweet, nearly cloyingly sweet, as his hands cupped your face. He kissed you with every intention, every desperate plea he’s held in his heart for you.

Jin’s length pressed against you—his hips rutting minutely as he kissed you.

“Jin,” you gasped as you pulled away from his lip locked embrace. “Please, I need you.”

Jin’s charming smile spread across his lips, blooming your heart along with it.

“As you wish,” he whispered as he pressed in for another soft kiss..

Instantly, Jin flipped around and switched positions, guiding you to sit atop his hips while he settled down into the mess of blankets and pillows.

“What?” He asked as he noticed your confusion at the sudden mood change, a smirk rising on his puffy lips. “You think I’m gonna let you lay back and make me do all the work?”

There he was, your Seokjin. Never able to keep a comment to himself, regardless of the situation—always working to make you laugh. It made your heart sing.

His hands slid to grip at your hips while you lifted yourself up to hover over his hardened length, lining up the tip to just graze the wetness there.

“You see what you do to me?” You asked with a coy smile. “You see how badly I want you?”

Jin bit his lip, mesmerized by the way your cunt slicked up the head of his cock, desperate to spear into you but holding back.

“Fuck—,” he breathed. “P-Prove it.”

A smirk crossed your features before you took the plunge and allowed his length to slip inside you as you sank to his hips.  The intrusion was welcome, and you gaped at the sensation of him plunging deep.

“Oh, my God!” Jin gasped as you had taken him to the hilt.  His eyes bulged for a moment before they closed in bliss.  “You feel so fucking good.”

You didn’t need to speak. The feeling of Jin’s thick length inside of you was more than enough agreement.  He felt so thick, so long, prodding at the spot inside you that had you weak and stretching you wide to make you gasp at the sizzle of pain.  After a moment of adjusting to his size, you let your hands fall to his chest as you began to slowly rise and fall and set a pace on his cock.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” he whined—eyes wide open and watching you bounce on him. “Shit, this is where you belong.”

You eagerly pinched at your nipples as your pace quickened, nodding at Jin’s encouraging words. Your mouth felt dry, and you felt unable to even vocalize your pleasure beyond your loud sighs and moans.

“Jin,” you breathed.

He nodded, assisting your pace by gripping your hips.  He tugged you down, face to face, to rest on his chest while your hips kept their quick speed of enveloping his cock in your tight heat.  He let a hand cup the side of your face, the other moving to grip your ass.

“You’re all fucking mine,” he grunted as he thrusted his cock up into you, matching the rhythm of your rise and fall. “Gonna make you feel so fucking good every day, baby.”

You nodded quickly, heartbeat rising as you quickened each pound.  Jin’s lips pressed to yours again, this time messier, hotter.  He licked into your mouth, desperate for any more of you he could consume.

“Fuck, you drive me fucking crazy,” he said, cock still thrusting deep inside you. “Let me fuck you from behind?”

You didn’t bother replying, simply removing yourself from his body and assuming the position on your hands and knees.  Jin scrambled to line up behind you, hand pumping his slick cock as he marveled at the sight of you presented for him.

“Take me, please,” you whispered, turning your head to peer at him with a desperate smile. “Fuck me until I can’t see straight.”

Jin hissed an expletive, before lining himself up in your sodden folds and plunging in without a second thought.  Your eyes widened at the new angle, gasping as you felt it hit different areas inside of you that had you squeaking with each hard thrust of his cock.

Jin’s hands gripped your ass, your hips, anywhere he could leave his brutal fingerprints.

“God, you take my cock like a fucking queen,” he gasped as the sound of skin slapping echoed around the tent. “Look at your pussy, so fucking wet for me.”

He marveled at the way his cock plunged deep inside you, then came out covered in your creamy slick.

“You gonna cum for me, baby? You gonna let me claim this pussy with my cum?”

The pleasure was overwhelming—it felt like every nerve ending was lit on fire, and you were a burning fuse about to detonate into a thousand brilliant explosions.  Each thrust of Jin’s thickness had you crying for more, moans echoing off the trees outside.  You were suddenly thankful you were in the middle of nowhere, allowing you to be loud and needy.

Jin reveled in your desperate sighs and the way your body pushed back against his to match his pace.  He knew his end was coming, knew it was going to be short-lived from the start. He’s wanted your body for as long as he could remember, and wanted you in his life as his lover, his girlfriend, more than just what he had been relegated to for so long.  

“Mm, baby, you look so good on your knees for me, fuck,” he gasped as his speed increased. “I can’t wait to make you cum on my cock every fucking day, love. This is my pussy now.”

Jin’s possession of your body made you see stars, vision blurring as your cunt tightened its grip around his cock.  Jin gasped at the grip and his hips stuttered.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groaned. “I feel you, baby, fuck. Cum for me, angel. Let me feel this tiny little cunt milk me.”

The coil inside you was tightening, pulling tight and making you gasp and scream at the oncoming rush.  Jin’s pounding was relentless, making your entire body shake with the anticipation.  

Your hand dipped to circle at your clit, the ultimate piece to your end. 

The coil snapped, and your cunt pulsated wildly around his cock, vice-grip tight.  It felt as if you had been catapulted off into space, vision blurring and all sound indiscernible from the blood rushing in your ears.

Jin’s climax quickly overtook him at the feeling of your delicious heat gripping at his cock.  With just a few strokes inside you, his cock pulsed hot stripes of cum within you and painted your channel.  Something primal in Seokjin loved that he was within you now, a piece of him deposited inside. 

He allowed a few moments to pass to catch his breath, before slowly easing his spent cock from your dripping walls.  He groaned as he watched a bit of his seed drip out, and he was careful to collect it on his fingers.

“Come here,” he whispered as he pressed his chest to your back and lifted you upright, sitting on your knees.  He presented his fingers to your lips, dripping with your combined slick, and wrapped his free arm around your stomach.

Obediently, you opened your mouth and allowed the man to swirl his cum-coated digits in your mouth. It made your stomach erupt in butterflies, the taste of you and the man you’ve only dreamt about for years now on your tongue.

A crack of thunder shook you from your silent reverie, and Jin removed his fingers from his mouth before wrapping both arms around you and tugging you down to lie face to face on the mused sleeping bags.

“Now, aren’t you glad we did this?” He asked with a chuckle and a kiss to your nose.

You wrinkled your brow and smiled coyly.

“I would have enjoyed it more if you hadn’t gotten us lost.”

Jin pouted and huffed.

“I didn’t get us lost,” he sniffed with indignation. “The map was wrong.”

[sunlight-moonrise]

The Five Times (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Reader recounts the first moments she shared with her new neighbor. 

A/N: I finally wrote a pure fluffy fic! This is a complete 180 from my previous fics. I hope I did the genre justice. As always, thank you to the lovely @spencer-reid-in-a-pool​ for being an awesome beta! Enjoy.

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: None

Word Count: 4.2K

Masterlist

The first time I met my neighbor, I was moving into my new apartment. The movers from the company I hired were kind enough to bring up my heavier furniture, but I was stuck with the boxes holding my miscellaneous objects.

This was my fifth trip up to my apartment and I still had at least ten boxes lying around in the lobby. My body was starting to get tired from all of the excessive movement. 

I heard the familiar ding of the elevator, signaling its arrival. With my current pace, I wouldn’t be able to get in before it closed.

“Hold the elevator!” I quickened my stride, hoping whoever on the other side of the door would be kind enough to adhere to my plea. Luckily that was the case, as I saw a hand shoot out to keep the doors from closing.

Once I made my way inside, I placed the boxes down, allowing my arms a few seconds of rest. I turned to my companion, noticing his tall figure, kind eyes, and small smile.

“Thank you.”

“No problem, what floor?” His voice was soft and sweet. He smelled like cinnamon and coffee. The words that immediately came to mind when I took all of him in were cozy and home.

“Second floor, thanks.” Just then, I noticed that the button was already lit up, signaling that it has already been pressed. “Oh, I guess we’re floor mates,” I commented with a light laugh.

“I guess we are.” There was a momentary silence as the elevator rose up the two floors. I saw him observe the boxes scattered on my feet. “I’m assuming the other packages downstairs are yours,” he stated.

“You got that right.” The doors opened with a ding as I tried to quickly pick up and balance the items in my arms once again. Before I could say something, the kind stranger grabbed one of my boxes and held it in his hands.

“You don’t have to,” I started to protest, “I don’t want to be wasting your time.”

“It’s fine. Helping people is what I do.”

I wanted to complain, to put up more of a fight but my body was already starting to feel weak. It’s been hours since I’ve rested and the heat was not helping my current situation.

With that in mind, I begrudgingly accepted his help. “Okay, but I owe you one.” I led us down the hallway, taking a turn until we were in front of door #24.

“Wow,” I heard him whisper to himself. I was confused as to why he made that comment. Did I do something weird? Is there something embarrassing on my pants?

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just that I live across from you. I’ve never had a neighbor my age before.” He pointed to the door that was behind us, a small smile adorning his face. I couldn’t help but reciprocate with a grin of my own.

“Wow indeed. I promise you I won’t have loud music or multiple visitors.” I open the door, pushing it wide enough for my neighbor to easily go through. I gestured for him to place the box on the floor while I put mine on top of the kitchen’s table.

“Do you want help with the rest of your stuff?” he asked, taking note of the disarray in the small space.

“Yes, I’d appreciate that.”

We finished bringing the rest of my stuff back to my apartment in record time. What would have taken me five trips was cut down to two. I thanked him profusely throughout the whole ordeal and he laughed every time I did so. Once we had all the boxes inside, I made sure to see him out the door, thanking him a final time for his help.

“It’s not a problem, really,” he said, his voice getting slightly higher in pitch. “Uh, my name is Dr. Spencer Reid by the way. Y-you can call me Spencer. It’s less of a mouthful. Or Reid, whichever you prefer. I answer to all three.”

He had the shy smile on his face once more and I couldn’t help but repeat his name in my head. Dr. Spencer Reid. “Pleasure to meet you Dr. Reid. I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

It was at that moment that I associated Spencer with kindness.

●●●

The second time I saw Dr. Reid, I was jogging at the park. It has been two months since I last spoke to him and I felt a twinge of sadness at our lack of interactions. I figured since I was the first neighbor he had his age, that we would be seeing each other more often. Guess that was wishful thinking on my part. I shouldn’t be too upset, he’s a doctor after all; his hours must be crazy.

I was slowing down on my run, searching for a nearby fountain to fill up my bottle. Instead, I found Dr. Reid sitting on a bench, skimming through a thick book. The happiness that filled my body should be embarrassing, I only talked to the guy once. Nevertheless, I made my way too him.

“Dr. Reid!” He startled a bit, almost dropping his book. He looked up, a smile gracing his face when he recognized it was me.

“Hi (Y/N). How are you?”

“I’m pretty good, long time no see,” I stated, hoping he’ll hear the humor in my tone. He gazed at me and for a moment I felt self-conscious. I’m a sweaty mess right now. Loose strands of my hair were sticking to my forehead and my face was red.

“You-uh-went for a run?” he stammered out. A slight pink tint crept on to his cheeks, which I am pretty sure was due to the sun’s rays.

“Yeah, I try to get some exercise here and there when I can. How’s everything going at the hospital by the way?” Maybe if I find out what his schedule is like, I’ll be able to see him more.

“Pardon me?” Crap, did I say something wrong? I tried to recollect the small amount of information I gathered from him when we first met. I don’t recall him mentioning where he works. Maybe he has his own clinic.

“Sorry. Do you have a private practice?” I hated how nervous my voice sounded as I asked him. Spencer’s look of confusion quickly morphed into one of mirth. He let out a small laugh and I became more perplexed by his actions.

“I’m not that kind of doctor,” he clarified. “I hold PhDs in Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering as well as BAs in Philosophy, Sociology, and Psychology.” His voice lowered a bit at the end and he started looking elsewhere once he finished his statement. Was he ashamed of his accomplishments? I hope not. If I were him, I’d be bragging to anyone within listening distance of my achievements.

“That’s very impressive, I barely know what’s going on in my own profession. You must be some kind of genius,” I remarked with awe. His head snapped back at me, probably trying to figure out if I was pulling his leg.

“Well, I do have an IQ of 187 as well as an eidetic memory. I can also read 20,000 words per minute,” he stated, his voice returning to its usual octave. I glanced at the book on his lap, he probably was reading the text instead of skimming through it like I initially thought. 

“So if you’re not a medical doctor, what do you do? If you don’t mind me asking,” I wondered. 

“I work for the FBI, with the BAU. Behavioral Analysis Unit. We catch serial killers, terrorists, rapists, and other criminals by analyzing their personalities.” I would have never guessed this man was a federal agent.  

“Wow, so you’re a professional hero then.”

He laughed once more before shaking his head, “I’m far from a hero. I just use my skills to my advantage. It’s all in a day’s work.”

I can now add humility to my mental list when describing Spencer Reid. With every moment I spend with him, my infatuation seems to grow.

I was going to continue talking when an insistent cough came out from the man to our left. He sat in front of the chess table, staring at us expectantly. His eyes kept on dashing between Spencer and myself. I scowled at him, wondering what his problem was.

“Uh this is my friend Eric,” Spencer said to me, gesturing to the coughing man. “Eric, this is (Y/N), my neighbor.” Great, now I feel like a jerk for thinking of his friend in such a rude manner.

“Nice to meet you,” I said.

“Likewise.” His eyes returned to Spencer, gawking at him as if he had a secret. However, Spencer’s attention was on his phone and I saw his features change to a stoic expression.

“I have to go; it's work,” he said to the both of us. He gathered his items and stood up from the bench. He turned to me, “Hopefully I can see you by the apartment more often.”

“Hopefully,” I agreed, “See you soon, neighbor.” I flashed him a smile and waved goodbye. He returned the gestures as he walked away.

At that moment I associated Spencer with bravery.

●●●

The third time I saw Spencer Reid, I baked too many cookies. It’s been two weeks since I last saw him, but I knew he was working hard. I heard him come in pretty late last night when I was finishing some chores and decided to come up with a reason to see him. Hence the cookies.

I tried to make sure I appeared decent this time around. So far, the only times he has seen me, I’ve been sweaty and tired. After applying a small amount of makeup and putting on my favorite sundress, I was ready to go.

I made my way across the hallway, balancing the plate with one hand while knocking on his door with my other. I didn’t need to wait that long before the door opened. Only the person I was expecting was not behind it. My smile immediately left my face.

“Hi, can I help you?” asked the beautiful petite blonde woman. Oh god, this is probably his girlfriend. And I am over here pinning over him like a pathetic little girl. If the ground could have swallowed me up, that would’ve been a blessing.

“I made these for Spe- uh Dr. Reid. As a thank you for helping me move,” I quickly stated, hoping she doesn’t hear the dejection in my voice. “Can you please give these to him?” I stared down at my shoes as I pushed the plate towards her hands, cursing my own for being a bit shaky.

“(Y/N)?” I heard a lowly voice whisper. I turned back towards the door and saw Spencer standing behind his girlfriend. He whispered something in her ear before motioning for her to go inside. She glanced at me quickly before doing as he requested. Great, so they both know about my little crush and now he has to come let me down gently.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, although I am sure he had an inkling with the way he was eyeing the plate still in my hand.

“I baked some cookies. Chocolate chip.” I cleared my throat, hating the way it clogged up so fast. “As a thank you for helping me. Had I known your girlfriend was over, I would have given you some more.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, she’s my colleague,” he corrected, that shy smile that I grew to love on his face once again.

“Oh.” A sigh of relief left my body only for it to stiffen once more. Sure she’s not his girlfriend but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have one.

I debated whether I should ask him if he's single or not, but figured that would be pushing boundaries. I shouldn’t be asking someone such intimate details about their personal life, especially on the third encounter. But then again, it’ll be nice to know his relationship status before I dig myself too deep in this hole. However, he deserves to tell me that kind of information without me pestering him. Although he migh---

My thought process was interrupted when I saw a hand, Spencer’s hand, waving in front of my face. He had an expression of confusion yet amusement on his face. He was the only person I know who was able to pull off the look.

“(Y/N), are you okay?” He asked with slight concern in his voice. Or at least I’d like to imagine that there was slight concern. I’d like to think he cared over my well-being. I shook myself out of my stupor, returning my attention back to him.

“I’m sorry, I was distracted. What was it that you were saying?” I noticed I was still holding the plate so I quickly placed them in his waiting hands. Gosh, how many times am I going to embarrass myself in front of this man? 

“I said that it’s a good thing that I don’t have a girlfriend. I wouldn’t want to share these with her.” Spencer’s voice had that timid tone once again, the one that reminded me of when he was talking about his accomplishments. I saw the redness on his cheeks which I’m sure matched my own.

“You never know Dr. Reid, these may be the worst cookies you’ve ever had,” I teased. I couldn’t hide my current contentment no matter how hard I tried. The more I talked to him, the more I wanted to spend time with him.

“I highly doubt that. If they’re as sweet as you I’m sure I’ll enjoy them.” I felt butterflies in my stomach at his statement. I’m pretty sure my face got even redder because all I felt was heat enveloping my form.

“Well, my door is always open if you want more,” I responded. And to think that I wanted to drop dead on the floor a few minutes ago.

“I’ll be sure to take you up on the offer,” he smiled, this one bigger than the others I have seen so far. My heartbeat picked up a little and I prayed that he didn’t know the effect he had on me.

I needed to go back to my sanctuary. I can only handle so much before I internally implode and that’ll do neither of us any good.

“See you around Dr. Reid.” I started a slow retreat to my door. Once I made it inside, I turned to see he was still staring at me.

“See you (Y/N).” He waved to me before closing the door.

 At that moment I associated Spencer with warmth.

●●●

The fourth time I saw Reid, I wasn’t prepared. The day was going on pretty normally. I did my daily routine and made a trip to the grocery store. Thankfully, it wasn’t packed so I was able to go in and out within minutes.

I was placing my purchased items in my car when I heard a noise behind me. I couldn’t figure out what it was. I’d typically ignore it, but my mind was screaming at me that something was off. 

When I turned around, I saw a man with a bloody knife in his hand staring at me a few feet away. He seemed as if he came straight out of a horror film, the crazed look on his face made me very uneasy. I thought that this had to be someone’s idea of a sick joke. 

He slowly made his way towards me, knife up ready to strike. I didn’t bother closing my trunk before I jumped into my car, thanking the angels above that I left it on and running. I turned my key in the ignition, preparing to drive off when all of a sudden this man was at the driver’s window. 

He was pounding hard against the glass repeatedly, leaving bloody prints in his wake. I screamed as I saw cracks forming, knowing it was a matter of time before he would hurt me. Pure adrenaline kicked in as I stomped on the gas pedal. I zipped by him, feeling a bump as I most likely ran over his foot.

I kept driving, not stopping until I thought I was in a safe area, which happened to be a relatively deserted dead end. I called 911 and told them about the situation. How they understood me through my hysteria is beyond me but I was informed that help was on the way.

I watched around my surroundings, noting the few people that did walk by. They stared at my car with concern but I didn’t care. I was hyper-vigilant now, holding my keys as if they can offer me a smudge of protection. All I could hear was the sound of his footsteps, the sight of the bloody knife occupying my mind.

Even when the cop cars and black vans pulled up, I did not feel safe. I stayed inside, not daring to come out. Despite seeing a middle-aged cop approach my passenger door, I still jumped when she tapped on the window. It reminded me of the pounding I heard barely fifteen minutes ago.

Tears streamed down my face as I felt myself hyperventilate. Oh my gosh. oh my gosh, oh my gosh. I could have died just now. I could have been dead. It would have taken a few seconds for him to plunge the knife into me, taking away my life. My body would have probably been cold before anyone would have notified the authorities.

The driver’s door opened and I held my keys closer to my chest. I know that it was irrational of me to get defensive over the people that I called for help but I couldn’t help it. My body was still on fight or flight mode and there was nowhere else for me to run to.

“(Y/N). It’s me, Spencer.” What? Is my mind playing tricks on me? Bringing forth the person that could offer me the best comfort at this moment. But as I turned my head, I took in the sight of him. Spencer was here, he was actually here.

“Sp-Spe-Spencer,” I cried out, tears still trailing down my face.

“Yes, I’m here. Can you grab my hand? Can I take you out of there?”

All of sudden, I wanted out of this car. I quickly jumped into his arms, holding him as close to me as possible. The scent of coffee and cinnamon helped to relax me.

I felt his arms wrapped around me, his hands running soft circles against my back. “Shhhhh. It’s okay. You did so well. I’m so proud of you.”

Proud? Of me? I didn’t do anything remarkable. I panicked and ran. 

“Do me a favor. Breathe with me. Follow the way that I breathe,” he stated, his voice offering me serenity and calmness. He could have asked me to jump over a bridge or deep dive into the Atlantic Ocean and I would have done it at the moment.

I obeyed his instructions; inhaling and exhaling the same way he was. I followed the movement of his chest, captivated by the soothing rhythm. The adrenaline slowly started to leave my body. The blood rushing in my ears gradually decreased in volume and my breathing began to lengthen once again.

“Reid, the ambulance is here. They can examine her.” I heard a deep baritone voice say. I didn’t want to go, I didn’t want Spencer to leave me. I tightened my hands around him and buried my face even deeper into his chest, enveloping myself in his scent even more.

“It’s okay Hotch, I’ll take care of it,” I heard Spencer say. The vibration of his chest as he spoke brought warmth to me once again. I wish we could be in this position under different circumstances.

“The paramedics need to check you,” he whispered to me. “But I’ll be right next to you the whole time. I’m not going to let you go.” I peeked over at the ambulance, feeling my heartbeat picking up once more. I didn’t want to go, but I had to have faith in Spencer. I gazed up at him, needing affirmation of his previous statement.

“Promise?”

“Promise.” He offered me that small smile of his. The one that is full of comfort and tenderness.

I believed him. I trusted Spencer more than I feared the unknown. 

He kept his word. Spencer stayed by my side the whole time I was with the paramedics, the car ride back to the precinct, and the duration of the questioning I received from some of his teammates. He even drove me back home and walked me to my door, promising to check on me in the morning.

At that moment I associated Spencer with safety.

●●●

The fifth time I saw Spencer, I was making dinner. It’s been a couple of days since I last saw him and my life was slowly returning to normal. I still flinched when I heard loud noises and I strayed from using my bigger knives. However, the nightmares have decreased and the therapist I’m seeing is very helpful. I hope I can go back to being the person I was before this incident.

I heard a gentle knock on my door. I made sure to calm myself down before answering. Unexpected loud noises still frighten me but I am slowly moving past it. I made my way to the entrance, checking the peephole before answering.

I unlocked the door, welcoming the sight of Spencer on the other side. It amazes me how fast my lips tug upwards just from looking at him.

“Hi (Y/N).” He gave me a small wave and an even smaller smile. “We caught him. He won’t be able to hurt you or anyone ever again,” he promises.

Something tells me that he didn’t have to come over here to personally deliver this message. Sure, we’re neighbors, but he didn’t have to go out of his way to tell me information that can be delivered with a phone call or a text.

“Thank you. I really appreciate you telling me this.” I took in his form. He appeared tired, more so than usual. I guess he just got out of work, especially since he still had his satchel on him. He didn’t even go back to his place before coming to mine.

The small pause lingered between us. Spencer looked like he was debating on what to say next. “Well, enjoy the rest of your evening.” He started taking small steps towards his door.

“Wait,” I shouted. The word came out louder than anticipated in the quiet hall. He startled a little but stopped walking to focus his attention on me.  

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” I asked, hopeful that he would accept my request. “I assure you there is plenty of food. Plus, it’ll be nice to be in your company again,” I finished. His head tilted as he stared at me, a bewildered expression on his face. I felt mine heating up as I realized the mistake I made.

“Uh I-I mean to have company. It’ll be n-nice to have company again,” I rushed out. I anxiously waited for his response as he contemplated my invitation. His hands were fiddling with one another and I saw a slight blush decorating his cheeks.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had a home-cooked meal,” he stated with a smile that I returned. I moved out the way, allowing him to enter my lovely abode.

“You can place your jacket and satchel on the coat rack. Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back.” I made my way back to the kitchen, checking on the food to make sure it hadn't burned. I then opened the fridge, grabbing my pitcher of water.

“I like the way you arranged your furniture. Your living room looks a lot more spacious than mine.” I heard Spencer commented. I poured the water into a glass before walking back to where he was standing. He was admiring the small stack of books I had on my shelf.

“Thank you, I tried to make the most of what I got. I’m glad it worked out.” I handed him the glass of water which he graciously took from me. I cursed myself for staring at the way he drank the cool liquid, his Adam’s apple bobbing with every swallow.

“Dinner is almost ready,” I stated, my pitch coming out higher than normal. I hoped my face was not as red as it felt.

“It smells amazing. Would you like me to set the table?” he asked.

I looked at Spencer again, noticing that he had a different smile on him. This one was wider and more genuine. I could see his white teeth peeking through. This smile gave me a sense of domesticity, affection, purity, and more. I am sure the grin on my face matched all the emotions I felt for him as we stood in front of one another in my living room.

At that moment I associated Spencer with love.

[ssa-steverogers]

𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙜𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙨

pairing ╏ aaron hotchner x female!reader

word count ╏ 2.4k

summary ╏ a couple years have passed, and aaron and reader begin to question their status; inspired by two ghosts by harry styles

warnings ╏ none (?) please tell me if i missed anything x

note ╏ guys. i haven't written fanfics for like three years!1!!1!1! so i apologize in advance for any mistakes and grammar errors! i do hope you enjoy though! and also for the sake of the fic, jack and haley don't exist sorry guys lol and the ending is kind of bonk bonk but leave a like, comment, or reblog if you want! <3

I couldn’t pick up the phone. I sat back on the chair in the apartment we bought a couple years ago. But it tasted bittersweet just thinking about it; something I was supposed to cherish but couldn’t. The two plates of food on the table were now dull. What was once smoking and bled with heat was now encrusted in a dry film; unappetizing.

The phone continued to ring. Once. Twice. A pause. Once. Twice. Three times. But after the eleventh call, I figured he stopped. Aaron had forgotten his key that morning. It's almost humorous how he could tell the difference between a psychopath and a sociopath in his sleep but forgot the simplest things like our house key. And our fifth anniversary.

Earlier today, I had asked Aaron to go home early. But even after five years of marriage, eight of living together, and ten of dating, he couldn’t seem to care less of my whereabouts lately. Distracted, distant, and rigid.

“Hotch,” I swung into his dimly lit office earlier that day, “I'm going to be headed home early tonight. I-“

“Alright, see you at home,” Aaron continued writing his paperwork and took half a second to glance up at me. It’s unclear if he meant to cut me off or not but it didn’t matter because it would’ve hurt either way. Distant, I thought. A quick look at his office and nothing would’ve seemed different but I thought I saw more clutter than usual.

“Okay, well... I’ll see you tonight. Don’t be late!” I tried to look past it, for now. I blew a kiss his way and he looked up to smile at me briefly. The smile reached his eyes but I couldn't tell if it was genuine. His pen didn’t stop writing. Distracted, I thought. “Bye, I love you,” I breathed out and quickly shut the door, walking out to gather my stuff. I didn’t wait for his reply; unsure if he even had one. I wondered what he’d say. And if it’d hurt more than what his words didn’t say.

Looking at my watch on the way to my desk, it was half past four and it was clear to say that no one was done with paperwork yet.

“Where are you going?” Spencer questions, catching Emily’s attention. She looks up from her pile of work as well.

“Well, things to do and places to be,” I smiled at the two, putting my tablet into my bag. I grabbed my gun from my drawer and put it to my holster. Emily smiled knowingly. She knew it was me and Aaron’s fifth anniversary. Emily even helped pick out the perfect outfit for tonight’s homemade dinner. She also knew about Aaron’s behavior lately. We both thought of it and we discussed every scenario except the worst one yet. He wouldn’t do that to me, I would think to myself, not after what Haley did to him. It was the unspoken what if that I wasn't ready to swallow yet.

Emily and Spencer waved me goodbye and she wished me good luck, along with a smile that was poisoned in pity. I was almost entirely sure it wasn’t on purpose but I wasn’t sure of anything at that point. I walked out the door, into the elevator, and it felt so repetitive. The same elevator every day, the same building every day, living the same life every single day. I’d casually mention to Aaron how the repetition felt like a lot sometimes over paperwork in our office at home and he’d hum quietly. Maybe in agreement. We both loved our job. The same thing every time; but we were saving lives. Maybe it was the effect of his changed behavior. Maybe he felt it because he thought my behavior changed as well.

The same thing every time; coming home separately, even though we used to come back together. We were drifting and although it wasn’t the first time, we always resolved it. Things happen and we’d come out stronger and I had never had a doubt. Sometimes the job was hard and I was there for him, and he was there for me but it was different this time. He'd come home late and I'd be asleep by the time he got back. Then, I started to do paperwork at the local coffee shop and he’d be sitting in our office, waiting for me to get back.

No words would be exchanged once we were together for the night. Maybe a ‘hey’ or ‘how was your day?’ and then a simple ‘good.’ We’d both change our clothes and get into the bed. We were getting further and further away every night in bed. Too exhausted to think of words for this odd place we were in. Sometimes he'd hug me and take a deep breath and I'd release a breath I didn't know I was holding. Something was just not working this time. Trust your gut, Aaron used to say to me when I first joined the BAU. My gut told me that this couldn’t keep on going at the rate this seemed to be deteriorating.

All these moments led to right now. The phone rings beside me as Aaron waits outside in the drizzling rain at eight o’clock, without the key that he forgot this morning. I unlocked my phone to read the messages exchanged earlier tonight.

today 7:40

y/n: hey aaron are you still at the office?

love: Yes, is there something going on?

y/n: aaron

love: Yes?

y/n: oh you forgot, didn’t you?

love: Forgot?

y/n: aaron, it’s our anniversary?

read 7:46

I purse my lips and wonder if he still loves me. Of course, he does, my mind wanders, would he have been with you for ten years if he didn’t? I chuckle sadly. The food on the table now cold, the outfit Emily and I chose doesn’t seem so perfect anymore. The candles on the tables nearly half melted. The dining room looked eerie now, sitting by myself on a Thursday night with two uneaten plates of food with candles nearly burnt out.

That’s when I hear him knocking on the door gently.

“Y/N? Please let me in. I didn't forget, I just,” Aaron’s sigh is muffled by the door but I hear it clear as day when I get out of my seat and walk up to the door. I think he hears me walking to the front and continues. “I was distracted. Something isn’t right between us right now and we should talk about it. I’m sorry, Y/N, please let me in so we can talk.” I sigh in defeat and unlock the door, slowly. The door opens and his hair is flat from the rain, briefcase tucked under his arm with his phone in the other hand. But his posture isn’t as upright as it usually is – he probably knows he fucked up. I wonder if he’s been profiling me from my texts, or my current body language even though we promised we wouldn’t do that to each other.

He walks through the threshold of this house but his eyes don’t waver from mine as he sets his stuff down and puts his gun away in the drawer. A glimmer of his keys reflects the light in the drawer. It’s almost funny, how he remembers his gun but not his keys even though they were in the exact same place. It makes me wonder about the integrity of our situation and if he had left the keys on purpose.

I walk to the dining table with the food I made and turn away from Aaron. I’m not sure about what to say. I've obviously been avoiding this conversation for quite some time and even after all this procrastination; I still don’t even know what to say. I hear Aaron's footsteps from behind me and I wait to see if he has anything to say. After I'm sure that he doesn’t, I begin.

“Aaron,” I turn around to face him. I smile grimly, feeling tears prickle at the back of my eyes and it hurts to swallow, “What the hell happened to us?” Aaron stands there, arms crossed and a hand on his chin. Crossing arms suggests closing yourself off and is a gesture of defensiveness. “What happened to our Thursday night dates? Aaron- I don’t- I mean,” I struggle to complete a sentence when millions of thoughts are racing through my head, “I know you’re not happy. Sure, maybe everyone thinks that you don’t show a lot of emotion but I know you and you have a tell for specific things. When was the last time we really talked about how we felt about us? C’mon, Aaron, who are we bullshitting? We weren’t communicating and you know that it’s one of the most important parts of a healthy relationship.”

“Why are you using past tense?” Aaron asks and he’s doing the face he only gives to people he thinks are suspicious.

“What are you talking about? And why are you giving me that face?” I pause and Aaron tries to cut in but I get to it first. I make a face and pull my eyebrows together. “Are you profiling me right now?”

Aaron looks taken aback at my comment. “Are you?” Oh. When I don’t say anything he continues, “You’re using past tense when you mention our… marriage and relationship. If you have anything you want to say you should say it now. There really isn’t a better time,” His voice grows cold on me, the same way he does to unsubs we interrogate. I don’t think the ice in his tone is intentional but he probably can’t help it. He’s right though, should I confirm my suspicions? I don’t want to hear his answer to my question in fear that it might be the wrong one. But he is right, this conversation is long overdue.

“Are you cheating on me?” I breathe out at once. “Are you?” The tears are getting harder and harder to hold back and time seems to move slower by the second.

“Y/N, what? No, I'm not! Why would you think that? I could never do that to you. You know about Haley and how she cheated! And you think I'd do that to you?”

“You were just distant lately and-“

“Distant?” He pauses, I know he wouldn’t interrupt me if not necessary so I let him go on, “Y/N, so are you. I didn't think you were cheating. I thought you needed time and that I needed mine. I had thought about what you had said a couple weeks ago about how repetitive life felt.” I nodded at his words. “You’re not the only one who thinks that.” A pang of guilt radiates in my chest, because I think we both know how this was going to end.

“Okay,” I say.

“Okay?”

“Okay.” I walk a little closer to him and cradle his face in my hands. He rubs circles on my wrists, caressing me and I do the same to his face. Tears are spilling from my eyes, down my cheeks, “Aaron Hotchner, I love you more than anything in this whole entire fucking world. I know you love me and that I love you but you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met in my life and we both know what’s coming. It’s been unspoken for too long, I know that. But whatever happens, you have to know that I love you. We had our good days,” I look around to see picture frames on the walls of our relationship in earlier stages. Smiling, dancing, laughing. I remember each and every one of the pictures and thinking that this would be the man I would love for the rest of my days. “And we had bad days. There will never come a day that I forget all the wonderful things that we had. I’m using past tense now because I think-“

“I think you’re right,” Aaron quietly cuts me off. “We’re not the people we used to be. We’ve changed but we can’t grow like this. I love you too, more than words will ever be able to encompass but maybe we’re feeling stuck, not bored or repetitive.” I want to say something for the hell of being a couple for probably the last moments but I don’t want to stray far from the truth. Aaron’s eyebrows turn downwards a bit and his eyes are glimmering with tears. He envelopes my body in his and leaves a quiet kiss on my hairline.

I take a deep breath of air, trying to savor this moment for the rest of my life. My face is wet from tears and they won’t stop falling. I hiccup from the crying in his grasp so he plays with my hair fondly and almost inaudibly hums to me.

“Will we be okay? I mean,” A hiccup, or three. “I don’t want either of us to leave the BAU because of this but also will we be okay? In terms of feelings and… well, more feelings.”

“Of course,” Aaron begins. “I don’t love you any less but we both agree that things will be better this way. We just... go back to how it used to be before you asked me to a drink for the first time,” I can feel his small grin as he leans against my head. Being reminded of that day hurts now, but it has for a while anyway. I wonder if I hadn’t asked him to that drink one night after a local case, if we’d be where we are now. But I know everything here was nothing less than fate itself and that I probably shouldn’t dwell on what if’s.

And so after some moments of silence for something that would soon be gone, we stand underneath the dim lights of the dining room. Aaron holds me against his chest as we look at the candles on the table. They’re both burnt out. There’s no light there anymore. The candle has melted onto the chamberstick, leaving long trails of wax.

I hold him a little tighter and he does the same to me. I don’t know what the future holds but our two halves have drifted too far to come back together and that’s okay. I know things will be weird for a while but it’ll be okay.

“It’ll be okay,” I whisper under my breath. For the sake of us, we'd leave it here. Once upon a time, we were younger and more naive, better for each other then. But we're older now and we're stuck. Just two ghosts standing in the place of him and me.

[jamespotterthefirst]

Hit the Town (Ethan x f!MC)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 1.5K Warning: N/A Premise: After enjoying drinks with their friends, they escape to a quick dinner date. 

A/N: Just self indulgent crack, don’t mind me. 

They stood in comfortable silence as the elevator ascended to their destination, the scent of her perfume embracing his every sense in the confined space. Not surprisingly, Ethan had found himself easily persuaded to abandon the tower of paperwork that awaited him in favor of spending the rest of the evening with her. 

As the elevator announced the 20th floor, she moved closer to him, her body fitting so perfectly to his side. “Are you still thinking about work?” she correctly guessed. 

Ethan’s arm automatically draped over her shoulders, as though it was second nature. 

“I’ve been thinking of nothing but work these past few months,” he confessed in the silence.

Lilac simply nodded. The same could be said for her-- for everyone at Edenbrook-- as the date of its final day loomed closer. That thought alone was enough to send his mind spiraling into a cesspool of melancholy. He forcefully pushed them away, deciding to focus instead on the rather pretty smile she gifted him. 

“Let’s not think about work tonight,” she proposed, straightening her posture with a new sense of purpose. Her fingers toyed with the gold pocket square that matched her dress perfectly.  “Tonight is about you, me, and how good we look for this date.”

The latter point of her argument was undeniable, at least when concerning Lilac. His girlfriend in the gold dress that clung to her like a second skin had to be the most alluring sight he had ever seen. His eyes traveled down the plunging neckline, tracing the sparkling band of her necklace. 

Lilac caught him staring, her smile turning devilish as she pressed herself closer to him. 

“Besides, there's so much more you could be doing with your time than paperwork,” she argued in a low whisper, lips pressed against the column of his throat. 

Ethan wholeheartedly agreed with that compelling argument, particularly with the one her delicate hands made at the buttons of his shirt. A chill traveled down the length of his body, not from the air conditioner of the elevator but from the captivating, expectant way her green eyes studied him when she pulled back. 

“Like what?” he asked anyway. 

“Like me,” she returned without a beat in the sexiest murmur he had ever heard. 

Ethan grinned down at her, surprised he had enough self control to do even that. “That was terrible, Allende.”

Yet it worked, his body thrummed with an overpowering need to push her against the elevator railing, the unbridled longing buzzing wildly through his veins like an exposed wire. The loud ding of the elevator announcing their arrival, however, interrupted what promised to be a charged and heady kiss. 

Lilac took in the lavish décor of the restaurant, rendered even more intimate by the twinkling lights of the city sparkling through the floor to ceiling windows. As the maître d' approached, she hurriedly leaned up to whisper in his ear. 

“Ethan, this looks like the kind of place that needs a reservation.” 

Her eyes fell on the crystal chandelier adorning the high ceiling and added, “A reservation months in advance.”

Ethan only grinned crookedly at her. 

“And given that I just seduced you into this date one hour ago, I really doubt we have one.”

“Seduced me? Is that how you'll get me to do your bidding from now on?” 

He would welcome that new development. To his slight disappointment, however, she ignored this question, wide eyes fixed on the maître d' before them. 

“Good evening. What is the name for the reservation?” 

“Ethan Ramsey.”

The man nodded once. “Of course. Welcome, Dr. Ramsey. If you follow me.” 

He turned to lead them into the luxurious dining room. By the time they sat at their private table with an unobstructed view of the bay, Lilac blinked out of her surprise.

 “How did you—?” 

“I'm friends with the head chef.”

“Of course you are.”

Ethan flashed her another crooked smile, this one taking effect immediately in the adorable blush of her cheeks. His own stomach swooped in response, part of him incredulous that he was really there, on a date with the woman of his dreams. 

The waiter arrived and Ethan wasted no time in ordering an expensive bottle of champagne, earning him a curious glance from Lilac. 

“What are we celebrating?” 

The bravado seemed to fizzle out and Ethan, suddenly self conscious, shrugged. “The fact that we can finally do this openly, without having to hide.”

Her eyes met his, the rosy patches on her cheeks burning brighter. Looking positively touched, she gave him a fond smile. 

Lilac did not have an opportunity to say anything else because their champagne arrived, along with a beautiful display of appetizers. At the sight of food, her expression brightened, eliciting a laugh from Ethan. 

“I hate seafood but I'm going to try the Ahi Tuna Poke,” she informed him confidently. 

Ethan raised his brows. “Why? You know you'll hate it.”

“I want to see if I'll like it now that I'm older and more mature.”

“Mature?” he asked with faux sarcasm. 

Lilac stuck out her tongue at him. “You know what I mean. You start enjoying things you once hated as you grow older.”

Ethan considered this in the quiet ambiance of the restaurant. Finally, he nodded his agreement. “I definitely know what you mean. When I was younger, I hated pistachio ice cream. My dad always insisted on buying it and just the sight of it made me gag.”

It was Lilac's turn to laugh, endeared by the story. “Poor little Ethan,” she commented, leaning in to bop his nose with her finger. He would never admit it out loud but it made his chest swell pleasantly. “I always wondered what you were like when you were younger.”

“I was a devil. Remember that story about me blowing up my neighbor's shed?” 

She laughed again but shook her head. “No, I mean I've never seen any pictures of young Ethan Ramsey.”

“That's been on purpose, Rookie. They're locked away in Providence, safe from prying eyes.”

Her shoulders deflated at that, the light of the chandelier catching the sequin of her dress. The crestfallen expression, however, did not last long.  

“And how do I get access to these adorable pictures?” 

“When I die.”

“Or,” she added without missing a beat, her expression brightening in a way Ethan didn't exactly appreciate. “I could just text Alan right now. I bet he'll send them if I asked.”

Ethan glared at her, finding it difficult to remain unsmiling when her playful grin lit up the entire room. 

They stared each other down for a long minute before they both sprang into action at the same time, each reaching for their phone. 

“Too late,” she proclaimed, her voice giddy. It attracted the attention of a nearby couple but she didn't seem to care. “I'm texting him now and—Oh my God, he's replying.”

Ethan wasn't even sure what he meant to do with his own phone. There was no chance he could ever compete with Lilac's lightning-speed texting.

Finally, a message came in on her phone and Lilac clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh my God,” she squealed, the sound muffled. “Ethan!” 

He knew his father had sent her the pictures he requested because her eyes darted from her screen to Ethan and then back again. 

“You were so—” 

“Don't say—” 

“Adorable!” 

Lilac showed him her screen and he groaned.

As she dissolved into giggles, Ethan brandished his own phone at her. “You'll pay for that, Allende.”

“Go ahead,” she challenged. “Nothing you do is going to top—” 

“I'm texting your sister,” he interrupted calmly. “For pictures of young you.”

Her laughter halted completely, all traces of humor vanishing entirely. With as much dignity as possible, she shrugged, though the intended effect was ruined by the way she had almost leapt across the table with every intention of snatching his phone away. 

Before she could do just that, Ethan began to text.

“I'm going to murder her,” Lilac said passionately just as the server stopped at their table to refill their glasses. He didn't even bat an eye at Lilac's declaration. 

“No need,” Ethan said with a chuckle, glancing at the pictures once more. “My plan of embarrassing you backfired since there's not a single bad picture of you in here.”

She rolled her eyes but he could tell she was fighting back a smile. Unable to resist, he gently took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. The private moment between them lingered, their eyes locked on each other’s as though magnetized. 

“Thank you,” he murmured. 

Her lips were parted, her voice slightly breathless. “For what?” 

“For making this night infinitely better.”

Her responding smile was brighter and far more breathtaking than the view of the city behind her. 

“It's only just starting.”

_________________

A/N: Told you that was crazy and pointless. I really wanted them to go out somewhere, anywhere in those hot outfits. Thank you if you made it this far!

Dedicated to @takeharryandgo​ who said “Ethan is the town and MC is going to hit it” in regards to the dress being changed from “Date Night” to “Hit the Town” 

thank you @aestheticartsx​ for pre-reading!

Love you all,

Bree

Also, the Pictagram series: Chapter 10 is taking longer because work is crazy for me atm. I also want to make sure this particular chapter is the best it can possibly be! 

_____________________

(Sorry if I forgot anyone) 

tags: @openheart12​ , @takeharryandgo​ , @trappedinfanfiction​, @aestheticartsx​, @aworldoffandoms​, @paulfwesley​, @myusualnerdyself​,  @rookie-ramsey​, @ohchoices​, @colossalpainintheass​, @enmchoices​, @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​, @choicesfanaf​, @openheartthot​, @octobereighth​, @nazarihoe​, @utterlyinevitable​, @kites-in-our-skies​, @maurine07​, @schnitzelbutterfingers​, @doilooklikeiknow​, @snesdudes​, @kingliam2019​, @perriewinklenerdie​, @cinnamonspongecake​, @choicesstan1​, @queencarb​, @ethxnrxmsey​, @missmiimiie​, @jens-diamondchoices​, @adamsdumortain​, @mrsramseyy, @apphia12​, @kalogh​, @lucy-268​, @binny1985​, @queenbirbs​, @honeyandsunfl0wers​, @newcolonies​, @lilyvalentine​, @rigatonireid​, @interobanginyourmom​, @parkerattano​, @custaroonie​​, @nikki-2406​​, @lilypills​​, @chasingrobbie​​, @nooruleman​​, @angela8756​, @lonely-mxxnlight​​, @ruinedbypixels​​, @shadynaturehilariouscookie​​, @tsrookie​​, @mvalentine​​, @professorkingslay​​, @drakewalkerfantasy​​, @casey-v​​, @helloblueeyedcat​​, @mysticaurathings​​, @blossomanarchy​​, @thegreentwin​​, @togetherwearerapture​​, @rookieoh​​, @ramseysno1rookie​​, @rookiemarsswiftie​​, @natashajaniphil​​, @mysticalgalaxysstuff​​, @hatescapsicum​​, @choices-lurker​​, @kiara-36​​, @junehiratas​​, @danijimenezv​​, @macy-ray85​​, @adrex04​​, @canigetanawwjunk​​, @sanchita012​​, @overwhelminglyaquarius​​ , @scorpiochick8​​, @skylarklyon​​, @starrystarrytrouble​​, @mercury84choices​​, @drariellevalentine​​, @ethanrcmsey​​, @lion-ess24, @aarisa-frost​​, @kaavyaethanramsey​​ , @udishaman​​

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO,  “Post Apocalyptic Utopia.”

I was actually able to write something today, which I didn’t expect. So I hope you all enjoy!” 

A small delegation of Vrul scientists were waiting for them when the shuttle landed. Dr. krill looked around the city and noted the increased security from the last time he had been here, though that had been almost a year ago, so he couldn’t have said if that was a recent development or not. Behind him, Admiral Vir, Doctor Katie, and their resident microbiologist stepped out of the shuttle, followed closely by their select group of marines.

The marines had been ordered to keep a close eye on Krill, as it was a well known fact that the Vrul council had put a termination order on his head. They had said the termination order had been dissolved, but to say that he didn’t exactly trust their word, was a bit of an understatement.

Admiral Vir stayed close at his shoulder eyeing up anyone who got to close.

They had brought the marines for a reason, but a single human would have been enough to scare of the Vrul if they were to try, and Admiral Vir, as important as he was in intergalactic government, was even more of a deterrent.

They were met a few feet later by the council members, no one that Krill recognized, so they must have been council assistants.

“Dr. Krill, we were not sure you would answer our call.”

“Is that because of the termination order on my head, or because the Vrul council seems to have a disdain for my work?”

They stepped back a little shying away from his bluntness, but he stood his ground. Perhaps it was a little mean to behave so human-like in front of them, but he had to admit, it gave him no end of pleasure to see the squirm, all except for one.

One of the Vrul scuttled forward and his movements were familiar.

Together both Krill and the Admiral recognized him as the psychologist who had stood up for krill the last time he had brought in on a termination evaluation.

‘I am pleased to see you have answered our call Dr. krill, I was worried the past issues with the council might drive you away.” he looked up and raised a hand to the human, “As well as you Admiral, I am always pleased to see the man who saved my life.”

The admiral saluted, “The pleasure is all ours.”

Krill nodded pleased to see at least one sensible Vrul in this entire place, “I am sure we are all very happy to see one another, but I doubt you would ave called us here for a simple visit?”

The psychologist nodded his head, “Yes, yes of course. Please follow me.”

They did as ordered, the humans sauntering along behind them as the Vrul walked and talked. Around them, the city was surprisingly deserted with few workers and even fewer pedestrians. 

“Something strange has happened, something we are not sure what to make of.” 

They turned a corner down the middle streat, heading towards the outskirts of the city.

“The morning before last, a…. Minor beta geologist by the name of Dr. Kell was allowed permission outside the city walls.”

“Beta scientist?” Dr Krill wondered 

“He was one of those hard cases. His original tests showed promise, but it was later determined that he was closer to a beta than an alpha, though the council let him keep his teaching position at the institute as long as it was only the entry level classes, regardless, that is not the point. The point is, he was allowed outside the city on request to study surrounding soil samples. He was gone for maybe two or three hours before returning, dazed and catatonic. His helium sack had been ruptured, and shortly after being contained within an isolation chamber, he began to develop large yellow soars across his body. Those who came in close contact with him, including myself, have been put into isolation for a days duration, longer than it took for him to be infected.” 

They stepped onto a small elevating platform which rose them high into the air along the wall. There were no rails, as Vrul didn’t fear falling, butthe humans clustered at the center to avoid the drop.

They made it to the top of the wall and were motioned over by the psychologist to peer over the edge.

“That of course is not even mentioning these creatures.”

Together they looked over the edge of the wall. The humans muttered in surprise, and Krill Felt his antenna vibrate slightly in unease and burgeoning horror. The creatures below him looked awful like deltas, with their six limbs and thickened bodies, but the way they moved was just so rong. They clambered over each other hauling themselves up against the wall as if they were trying to climb it.

There were no more than seven of them in total and their eyes glowed a glassy white. All over their bodies, he could just make out the sickly yellow pustules. One of the creatures attempted to climb over his brethren, and in so doing stepped on one of the bulging sacks causing it to rupture and spew a thick spray of a pollen like substance. The cloud expanded shortly but was too thick to spread properly and slowly dropped to the ground coating the others in the layer of yellow.

The human grimaced, “Do you smell that?”

The Vrul looked up at him in surprise, “You smell something.”

All the humans nodded. Adam shook his head and sneezed rather violently taking a step back from the edge before wiping his face, “Smells like…. I don’t even know how to describe it, organic but…. rotting .”

Ramirez peered over the edge, “Tree zombies.”

The little vrul psychologist looked up at them, “What is a zombie?’

Krill sighed, “here we go.”

“Its an old legend or folktale I guess. There have been a lot of iterations of it over the centuries, but the general idea is that some kind of virus infects a human and the symptoms cause them to become aggressive and violent. A bite causes them to spread the Virus, and so they become cannibalistic. The disease rapidly spreads through population centers and the entire world shuts down in an apocalyptic event while small pockets of humans attempt to survive. Of course, its not exactly scientifically possible with the diseases we know of, but.” Adam glanced back over the wall, “Obviously not the same thing, but…. A similar principal I suppose. Twenty bucks says that those sores are what make it contagious.”

Krill nodded slowly, “it would make sense why none of you who came in contact with Dr. kell were ever infected, because you were never exposed to the pathogen. I am assuming he was not showing signs of those yellow pustules by the time he showed up?”

The psychologist nodded. “No, he developed those late last night and is still under observation. That happened about the same time he started showing signs of aggression towards the staff.”

“Let me see the patient.” krill said and the psychologist nodded, motioning them forward and back down the wall to where they were keeping their observation room.

It had been set up away and secured from the other buildings, and as they walked in most everyone was dressed in hazmat equipment.

They were brought forward, to an outside observation room where they could see through two sets of thick paned glass to where dr Kell, or who they supposed used to be Dr, Kell, paced around the room scuttling this way and that towards anyone who moved outside of his enclosure. The entire inside of the room was coated in a delicate layer of yellow pollen.”

Krill ordered someone to give him a hazmat suit and he hurried into the crowd to take a look for himself.

Dr, Katie was able to bring her hazmat equipment from the ship and followed after him, walking around with Krill as they examined the subject.

Adam didn’t know much about Vrul related illnesses, but he still found the behavior of the vrul inside the enclosure to be rather unsettling.

He walked around the outside examining the creature as Dr. krill and Katie spoke with each other.

He tapped his fingers against his arms nervously. This was very strange as far as he knew no vrul had lived outside their cities in centuries if not millennia. So how could there be infection outside of the city…. Of course…. That was unless…

A sudden scuttling could be heard outside the door, and he turned around to watch as a small alpha Vrul stepped into the room. It hurried forward and stood at the edge of he room looking unsure and nervous. On occasion it glanced over at him with a wary expression, to the point where he thought it was going to get whiplash.

He nodded, “Do you need something?”

It jumped as he spoke clutching some files on its chest, “i uh… uh I wanted to speak with the doctors about…. About something I found.”

Obviously Vrul only had one gender, but there was just something about it that made him think female, so he went with it.

Usually Vrul chose based on convenience when working with species of more than one gender, but until she said otherwise she was going to have to do.

“You can tell me.”

She looked up at him with a skeptical expression.

Most vrul had a sense of intellectual superiority when it came to other species. It made them insufferable sometimes as humans had IQs closer to their betas than their alphas. Difference was your average human could handle abstract concepts where a beta could not. Though the vrul tended to forget this.

He pressed his lips into a thin line, “I think I can keep up, just humor me.”

She looked at him long and hard for a moment before moving closer, “I am Dr. Vess, head historian at the Vrul institute here in the city, and I have been examining some ancient documents which I think might shed some light on what is happening here.” She paused.

He nodded for her to go on.

“About four thousand years ago, there is a sudden drought of historical documentation. We don’t know much of what happened before then. We think before that time we had light travel expeditions to other planets which gave us the shoot-off species, the Gibb, but there is no historical information to back this theory. I did, however, find architectural blueprints for the wall. The most dangerous predator on our planet is only ten feet tall and can only jump two feet, but our wall is forty feet high and twenty feet thick with no doors. This is also the time when we began to develop our force field technology, which is why we are so ahead of the times. The force field that can surround this city goes as a dome into the air, and even penetrates underground. Based on everything we know, the structure of the wall is far too dramatic to have been built by those who live in the world that we do, unless there was something that happened to prompt the construction.”

Adam nodded slowly, “You think that these creatures…. Whatever they are, were an issue before the wall was built, but you have lived so long behind the wall that it was forgotten with the historical records because no vrul has bothered to go outside the city for the past four thousand years, and by the time they did they were leaving by way of spaceship.”

Her antenna vibrated, in what he had come to know as the Vrul version of a nod.

“It makes sense, as I said before there is no reason for them to have built the walls so high and so thick. Furthermore, I have been analyzing satellite patterns of the surrounding area.” She opened a map before him and he crouched down on the floor with her to take a look as she spread it out on the ground, “Circular clusters of trees, everywhere, at first I thought they were just the natural way in which our trees grow, but you can see patches of them in others places that do not follow this pattern, but looking over here in this book that I found on etymology, they seem to be similar circles made by certain types of hibernating creatures that live on this planet.”

He stared at the evidence eyes wide, “So you are saying you believe that these creatures, whatever they are have been hibernating for a couple thousand years and were only distrurbed when the doctor made his way outside the city, probably due to vibrations in the ground.”

She nodded her head, “That was another thing I had been meaning to point out. The city walls are set on a series of inertial dampeners. Now when we do construction inside the city, the foundation rattles a little bit but the housing around it does not meaning that the city does not disturb the ground around it. This includes when spaceships take off and land despite their engines generally being powerful enough to cause shock waves.”

“Well I’ll be damned.” Adam muttered, “You guys may very well be living in a post apocalyptic utopian hellscape and no one knew because the historical records beforehand were lost.” He lifted his head and turned towards where krill and katie were still working, “Doctor! Wou will want to come and hear this.”

***

He could hear the others speaking in sharp tones behind him, though he wasn’t really paying attention. His eyes were focused mostly on the creature inside the tank. Some of the actual council members had deigned to descend from their council chambers as this was actually turning into a more serious matter than they thought. The history of the vrul was apparently a little more complicated than the “Brave new world” hellscape utopia in which they lived. In fact, it appeared as if they were some kind of post zombie apocalypse.

It was both cool and rather frightening at the same time especially when you considered the fact that these creatures were still hibernating beneath the ground, and could rise at the slightest provocation.

Inside the room, the zombie Vrul bashed it’s head against the wall causing another one of it’s yellow sores to pop spreading its pollenthick against the glass.

He moved forward to where one of the doctors was standing and asked, “Is there an intercom into the room?”

The Vrul turned to look at him and then nodded slowly, “There is, why?”

“I want to try something.”

The doctor stared at him as if he had been audaciou enough to pull off his pants and start pissing on the floor.

“What!”

“Humor me doc, if it works then I might know a way to defeat these things.”

The doctor looked about ready to argue with him but Adam gave hima look and he quickly backed off.

Adam knelt down and had the doctor show him how to transmit something into the room. He scolded quickly through his music library before picking something he thought had a nice complex beat.

The doctor watched him curiously as he turned on the song.

The glass was too thick for much sound to penetrate back through, but as soon as the beat started the reaction was almost immediate, and rather violent.

What had once been Dr. Kell jerked in it’s spot, then agitatedly began to run in a circle before falling to the ground where it twitched and convulsed. He stopped the song before the doctor could order him otherwise, and he turned to look at the little creature staring up at him in confusion, “Rhythmic induced cataplexy, just like the rest of you.”

He turned to look back at where Dr. krill was standing an idea beginning to form in his head.

It was a very extreme idea. He doubted anyone would be willing to try it.

But he had to admit, it did sound pretty tempting. 

Very tempting indeed.

[hyukmoon]

Class trip.

Synopsis | you're a teacher going along on a trip for a week with your class and a colleague you despised for a good amount of time now. Things turn around and you don't know what to think about him anymore.

Teacher!Xiaojun x Teacher!gn!Reader

warnings | kissing is the most rated things happening in this, all over awkwardness from you, terrible humor, pretty much just fluff and a there's only one bed situation

word count | 2.2k

things to note | this is the first thing I wrote here, so I'm open to constructive criticism, also [P/A] means prefered form of address bc you're a teacher and all that (not proofread yet)

Let’s preface this. You never really wanted to go onto this trip. You genuinely loved the children in your class, but to go onto this trip for an entire week seemed to be a compromise in the least. Neither were the other teachers your preferred ones nor was it your say where the class trip was going to take place. To be honest, you even found the colleague you were going with a bit annoying.

“It can’t be this bad, you might even enjoy it there. Our fellow colleague is pretty to look at and the worst that could be happening on that trip is that one of the children puts their finger into a pencil sharpener again.”, your friend Yasmin and also, teacher said. Your tired face was working, she shut up. Of course, your fellow colleague was incredibly handsome.

You would and could never argue against that, yet every time you heard their kind and expressive voice you felt like you were blinded by the sun. He just seemed to exude everything you lacked. It is not that you weren’t a good teacher, every time you were out of breath or already done with everything only half through the day, he almost smiled compassionately at you sometimes even winked for that matter.

Xiao dejun, who also went by Xiaojun was the topic of your discussion, a man that handsome you wouldn’t be able to make up in your dream and smart enough to make up for every “inconvenience” you faced with him.

Well, he was that smart to bring you coffee every morning into teachers lounge, share his chewing gum with you and sometimes write you notes if you seem stressed. “Jeez, what’s your problem in the first place? I’m kinda sure he is into you. Every time he looks at you, he literally has heart eyes and bringing you coffee every morning? Please.”, she rolled her eyes at you.

“I don’t think so, I just subbed some of his classes a few times. You know how nice he is.”, nervously you now shy away from looking into Yasmin’s eyes.

Xiaojun didn’t like you, you would feel terrible if he did. Tweaks of shame overcame you; this trip was not going to work out.

Fully packed and all over suspiciously you started counting again the fourth graders on the bus while also having a very good view of the chocolate brown hair of the teacher going along on the field trip. This time his hair didn’t fully cover his forehead, his glasses eyeing you as well. Suddenly his hands tapped on the seat next to him. Heat rose up to your cheeks gradually making it harder to move forward to sit next to Xiaojun. “Mila’s parents called me, she’s sick so don’t worry about her. Just sit down [Y/N], I brought some tea.”, he smiled while pointing at his thermos can. “Uh, sure. I have some cookies with me if you want.”, the last sentence closely sounding like a question as you quietly took the seat next to him.

Not only were you now stunned about the fact that there was a possibility for him to view you in a light like this in spite of you being so passive towards him in the past. Yet there is still the lingering feeling far, far up in your head that you were only imagining things and Xiaojun read everything wrong. “Are you feeling well? We can also sit farther in the front if you feel better there- “, he worriedly stroked your shoulder. “No, it’s completely fine. Just fine.”, you interrupted his ramble and put up your mouth into a cramped smile. His eyes returned that favor, crinkling up into a smile as well.

The bus drive didn’t take as long as you might have thought, your counterpart on the excursion was more than enough to keep you on your toes. Casual glances along a few accidental brushes over your hand kept you in your seat. Now counting again all the children in the lobby of the youth hostel you anxiously eyed Xiaojun again. The amount of children matched up, so your job was done for now, you were most likely only seeing them for dinner. The only thing to do for you now was to go up to your room and contemplate how to not have a physical reaction every time your favorite colleague called your name. Very obvious, you had of course no crush on him or anything like that. He was just blessed with beautifully shaped eyebrows and a voice that could make the worst words you knew sound like a ballade. You moved up from the hotel lobby with some of the grade schoolers to the elevator.

"[P/A] [L/N], do you think when I make Lasagna with my mum it’s the same as cake?”, Xia, a girl from Xiaojun’s music class asked while her classmates giggle about her question. A few loud no’s were to be heard with the occasional high pitched laughs from her friends. “That is a very good question I have never thought about before”, you stopped for a second, what exactly does it mean to be a cake? It is still baked in an oven with layers and contains the tomato sauce as frosting? “I am pretty sure it is. Even though I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow though, I am not a baking expert. I promise I’ll look it up for you, yes?”, you were pretty content with your answer. “Hmmm. Okay. They wanted me to ask.” Xia answered while pointing at the three boys in the back of the elevator which earned her some distraught faces from her classmates. The familiar sound of the elevator bell ringed. “Anyways, if you have as burning questions as these please come to me or …, we’re happy to help. Also, if you feel homesick or sick, I’m always in my room, just knock.” As soon as the last syllable was said stormed the children to their respective rooms and left you there looking at their body shaped dust cloud remembering the cartoons you watched at their age.

You walked down the long corridor towards the light brown lacquered door which showed in golden numerals written the 420. Your shoulders visibly sank down, finally you were able to take a nap. The door opened and closed maybe a millisecond later. Seeing a wide back heaving some shirts on to the rooms ear chair made you catch your breath. His glasses missing and his usually kempt hair was now chaotically drifting across his forehead into separate directions. More importantly though, he was most likely about to put on a fresh shirt, and you stood across the dark brown carpet in the door with a perplexed face.

“Sorry!”, you yelled and closed the door to just sink down with it in your back. Xiaojun packing out his suitcase along his pullover wasn’t what you were expecting to after talking about lasagna and wanting to fall asleep for at least good 30 minutes to then decide if it’s worth it to start to watch a movie. Yet you were barely discussing the fact that he was in your room. Neither did it make sense nor were you able to really comprehend the situation right now.

The door opened and you jumped up onto your feet. “[Y/N]? Why were you in my room?”, Xiaojun quiet voice slid through the gap of the door. “I swear there’s an explanation to this. I think they might have given me the wrong keys or something like that, I didn’t look at you or anything-”, he interrupted your nervous chatter to push the door open and face your confused state. “It’s fine, we’ll figure it out together.”, the usual quirky smile you normally saw when he was trying to cheer up one of his students appeared on his face. Your breath stopped at the together while a comfortable warm feeling churned in your stomach.

“Then let’s go downstairs and work it out with the staff!”, he gifted you another wink which not only gave you the final confidence to grab onto his arm before heading again into the elevator but to for the first time give him a wink back.

“The school only booked one room for the teacher. I can’t really do that much about it, most rooms are already full and other guests will arrive tomorrow, so I’m very sorry for the inconvenience.”, the hotel worker returned to the computer in front of them. “What are we supposed to do now?”, you sighed and gazed at the visibly pondering man. “Honestly, no idea. There isn’t much we can do, so I guess we could talk about it in my room?”

The walk to his room had to be filled with an uncomfortable silence, neither you nor he were able to say something that made the current situation less painfully horrendous. Almost as if the newly gained confidence left your body, you didn’t even dare to make more than an unfunny joke about your nonexistent room or more like transferred room for another alone soul. His room was already coddled with the scent of freshly washed clothes along his close to quiet cologne. “So here we are.You take the bed and I’ll sleep on the ground.”

“This is so inappropriate, dear god.”, you started to sigh again caressing your temples. “Also, no, please take the bed, the school probably forgot to book another room because I said yes to this trip so late.” Even though Xiaojuns throat seemed to struggle a bit with his next proposition, it was still loud and clear what he said. “We can also share the bed... We’re two grown adults.” He laughed awkwardly; you were pretty much speechless.

“Yeah, of course. Two adults. Nothing to worry or think about.”, you tried to brush off any thought you could possibly have about your opposition. No thoughts about his warm breath in your neck while holding you loosely in his sleepy state to waking up to his beautifully messy bed hair in the morning.

“I’ll take a shower if you don’t mind, some of the children were kinda fussy today and I just need a few minutes.” You nodded and unpacked your suitcase, followed by changing into some comfortable shorts and large shirt.

The second you were done; you sank into the still cold sheets of the large bed. He didn’t make you wait for him very long, barely noticeable however his eyes rested on you when he entered the small apartment again.

Neither did it take too long to sit along with you on the bed. “Are you sure you’re comfortable with us doing this?”, his soft voice hit you unexpectedly. “I can also sleep on the floor, or we switch everyday to do it.” You shook your head simply and crawled up the bed to make yourself comfortable under the duvet. “I’m so tired, just don’t steal the blanket, okay?”, barely able to keep your eyes open you sank even more into the mattress.

You really thought it would be easy to sleep next to him, yet the thought of holding his face in your hands didn’t leave your mind. Even asleep he had a stunning presence around him. “[Y/N]? Do you like me?”, Xiaojun turned around to see your surprised expression. “Of course, I do. I just thought that because you were so good at everything, you did all of these things just to spite me.”, you quietly confessed. “[Y/N], I wanted you to like me. You’re a wonderful teacher and I really admire you. You’re so funny with the other colleagues and generally so, so gorgeous.” Xiaojuns eyes lingered on your lips. They stayed there.

“Can I kiss you?” You nodded. His lips brushed softly across your bottom one. You took the opportunity to gain closeness to his warm side before shifting your hands onto his back. Slowly you began to pepper small kisses along his jawline resulting in a small whine from his side. His hands started to wander across your waist to rest on your lower back and pull you in even closer.

Not a lot longer after he started to skim your neck with his teeth. You rested your head now in his freshly scented neck. Again, his lips on yours moving over to just behind your earlobe, nipping on it and breathing into your ear: “Do you want me to continue?” Still resting his soft lips on your ear goosebumps rose up your spine. Waiting for another hint of pressed lips against your skin your arms lethargically crawled up and grazed his cheeks.

“Ah right, the children.”, your voice hitched he was still so close to you. “We could discuss this maybe on a date?”, he looked almost hopeful when his dark and strangely staring eyes met yours in the dim lit room.

“Us kissing and almost doing the deed? Sure. I’m much better at physical presentations though.” You pressed a delicate kiss against his lips. “Since when so provocative?”

“You bring it out in me.” “I’m glad it’s me and no one else then.”, he smiled into the kiss he gave you now. Not long from this you actually found the peace and quiet to fall asleep in his embrace.

[xbladekitkat85]

Why Clint is on Tony’s Sh*t List

Word count: A bit over 3k.

Chapter summary: Peter and Harley are brothers and the children of Tony Stark. Which is highly classified knowledge that nobody outside of the Avengers knows. Until Clint Barton accidentally spills the secret with a technology related mishap.

Warnings: A bit of language here and there. Tony threatening Clint’s life because he did an oopsie.

Peter's POV

In the school that is Midtown School of Science and Technology, everyone is basically a genius of some sort. You have biology geeks, math geeks, chemistry geeks, robotics geeks. You name a branch of STEM subjects, there are guaranteed to be at least 5 masters in every subject.

That being said, being a master in a subject doesn't mean that you would be instantly popular. Sure you might get hounded for homework help, but it doesn't mean you actually make friends as easily. It's more like people want to leech off of your knowledge and don't bother to get to know you.

There's a social pyramid in all schools and let's just say I'm towards the bottom of mine. I build Lego sets, I love Star Wars, I'm a whiz at chemistry and math. But people ignore the fact that I'm 'somewhat' intelligent and focus on the Lego and Star Wars part of my image. Which sucks big time. At least I'm graduating this year.

But at least I have my brother Harley to confide in. We argue over stupid stiff but we both enjoy poking fun at each other.

3rd person POV

Peter was sitting at his usual table with his small group of friends. Ned, MJ, and Betty made up this small group of people.

"So, what are you guys doing this weekend?" Ned asked the group.

"Uhhhh, I was planning on going to see that new movie coming out." Betty answered. "You know, the one with Emilia Clarke and what's his name."

"Oh yeah, I know which one you're talking about." Ned replied.

"You losers can go see a movie, I'm going to a protest outside of Oscorp." MJ replied, sipping her thermos of coffee.

"What did Oscorp do?" Peter asked curiously.

"They're trying to cover up an employee getting severely injured, the safety protocols are shitty, and HR is as usual, the worst part of it all in addition to the censorship of the incident online."

Peter nodded his head, eyes widened.

"Gotcha. I definitely understand why you're going."

MJ set her thermos down and opened her latest book, Speak.

Ned turned to look at Peter.

"Stark internship all weekend?" He inquired.

Peter shrugged and took a sip of water.

"I'm gonna hang out with Harley. Probably do some stuff in the lab. Usual stuff."

Betty shook her head in disbelief.

"I still can't believe you're friends with him." She said. "He's pretty high on the social ladder here. I mean I know you guys have the internship together but it's still kind of baffling that I never see you interacting in school."

Ohhhhh, if you only knew Betty. Peter laughed to himself on the inside.

Nobody at school knew that Peter and Harley were half brothers and the children of Tony Stark. Not even Ned or MJ knew although he suspected that MJ somehow knew or was close to figuring it out. She's scarily perceptive and freakishly good at knowing things about other people that she definitely shouldn't.

The bell rang signaling the end of lunch.

The four friends parted ways and headed to their respective classes.

*After school*

Peter arrived at the tower straight from Delmar's after picking up snacks for the weekend. He had grabbed an assortment, ranging from potato chips to pretzel M&Ms.  He waved at Ms. Maldonado, the lady who commanded the reception area and dashed to the elevator, scanning his pass when prompted.

FRIDAY greeted him when the doors closed.

"How was your day Peter? Harley is already waiting for you. He told me to tell you, and I quote, "Peter, I hope you remembered my PRETZEL M&Ms not PEANUT M&M's like last time. If you forgot, I'm going to steal that new Lego set you were planning on building tomorrow. And I WILL hide it somewhere you'll never, ever, find it. Insert maniacal cackling, blah blah blah."

Peter stifled a laugh at Harley's message.

"Uh, well my day was the usual, you know. And tell Harley I got his stupid M&Ms. And I grabbed him something else too if he promises not to threaten the Legos again."

"Sure thing, Peter."

He exited the elevator to the floor which housed the labs he shared with Harley. There were multiple as the duo tended to accidentally blow things up and would need to have another place to work while repairs were being done. Needless to say, Tony was more than a little annoyed that his kids needed multiple labs because they kept blowing them up. But whatever, he loves them and will pay for it as long as he gets to blackmail them with all the ridiculous stories of what blew up and how it happened.

Harley looked up towards the door Peter walked through and lifted his welding mask off his face.

"Hand over the merchandise, blockhead." He said, his arm stretched towards the bag of goodies Peter was carrying.

"Only if you promise to leave the Legos alone, biotch." He replied.

Harley rolled his eyes and dramatically lifted his hand in the air as if he was testifying in court.

"I promise not to touch the Legos." He said in a half joking tone.

Peter handed him the pack of M&Ms as well as a container of Oreos.

"I still don't understand why you like pretzel M&Ms." Peter remarked. "There's too much pretzel and not enough chocolate."

Harley stared directly at him as he tore open the M&Ms and popped a few in his mouth.

"I don't understand why you don't like pineapple on pizza." Harley shot back as he swiveled around in his chair

Peter groaned.

"We are not having this discussion again."

"Peter you're an idiot if you don't like pineapple on your pizza."

"Harley, you're a disgrace to the entire state of New York if you do. Fruit is not supposed to go on a proper pizza."

Harley chucked a bolt at Peter's head.

"Hey!" He protested as he turned to look at Harley. And then he saw a glint in Harley's eyes.

"Pizza is a dish with everything from the food pyramid. You have grain, dairy, meat, vegetables, fats, and oh, wait, you don't like pineapple so you're missing out. You could be getting every nutrient from the food pyramid but you're an idiot so you miss your daily serving of delicious pineapple on your pizza."

"Oh my god, stop."

The boys busted out laughing for a full 3 minutes, eventually with Harley falling out of his chair. Tony walked in to find his kids cackling at who knows what, and one on the floor, almost incapacitated by his laughter. He sighed before clearing his throat to gain their attention.

The boys sobered up and finally stopped laughing but they had unshed tears left from the fun.

"What on earth were you two dying of laughter over? Should I call a therapist? Do I need to be concerned? Did you eat something that you shouldn't have?"

Harley sniggered as Peter was trying to keep a straight face.

"He was eating pretzel M&Ms!" Peter said, holding back his laughter. "The type that should be illegal!"

"Peter, you don't diss Pretzel M&Ms, they're an underappreciated member of the M&Ms family. If you think pretzel M&Ms should be illegal, you clearly haven't tried the raspberry ones." Harley replied while doing his best to keep his face straight. "If anything, you should call a therapist for Peter and help him overcome his aversion to pineapple on pizza."

Tony looked even more lost than he was before.

"Ok, I don't know what I'm supposed to make of this. FRIDAY, show me footage of what the hell happened while I wasn't here."

"Sure thing boss."

Friday pulled up security footage of Harley and Peter's conversation. Tony watched it as the two teens were snickering behind him. After he understood the situation he turned to his kids and let out a tired sigh.

"Ok, I don't understand your sense of humor, but I came to tell you that we're having Italian for dinner."

Peter pumped his fist and Harley just shrugged.

"Italian is fine by me I guess."

"All right kiddos, be in the dining room by 7ish or else I'll cut the power to these labs. We eat as a family."

*Time skip*

It was 2 am, Monday morning and everything was silent except for the faint noise of shuffling towards the ceiling.

Clint Barton was crawling around in the vents, obviously on his way to do something he probably shouldn't be.

He had lost a bet with Nat earlier and the punishment was that he had to steal something for blackmail off of FRIDAY's databases.

He quietly dropped out of a vent shaft into an important looking office. He didn't bother checking who it belonged to but he was already too far gone to ask.

"Ok Nat, what do you want me to look for?" He whispered into his earpiece.

"Check the computer on the desk. The password is written on a sticky note in your pocket."

He checked his pocket and there was indeed a post it with a password on it.

"Ok, what am I supposed to find?" He asked once he logged in.

"Look for footage from the labs." She said. "Check labs CTS2 and IAI1."

"CTS2 and IAI1, gotcha." He reaffirmed.

He browsed around until he found the cameras he needed.

"Ok, found em. What dates should I look at?"

"Look at this past Friday," She answered, "around 4:45 to 6:15 pm. Tony drank from a can of motor oil instead of his coffee cup. I would like this footage in my posession. For my entertainment, and possibly blackmail to pull on him."

"All righty, ok, uhhhh." He muttered as he searched through that window of time.

He watched snippets of the footage and fast forwarded a few times until he glimpsed footage of Harley swiveling around in his chair as Peter looked exasperated. He paused and rewound to see what the situation was.

As Clint watched the whole argument play out and the aftermath, a shit eating grin began to spread across his face. He emailed himself the whole interaction for his own entertainment (blackmail, cough cough) and went back to searching for what he originally came for. He eventually found it, sent it to Natasha, logged out of the computer, and climbed into the open vent.

"You get it?" Nat asked suspiciously.

"Oh yeah, I got it." He said, trying to hold back the mischievous laughter that was threatening to let loose. He checked his phone to see whether he got the email he sent to himself. But to his surprise and sudden panic, it was not there. His social media, however, was blowing up with comments about the two kids and who they were and theories people were spouting.

"Oh shit."

"What did you do, Clinton?" Nat asked in a threateningly monotone voice.

Clint banged his head on the vent, forgetting that he still had his comms on.

"I may or may not have accidentally exposed Peter and Harley as Tony's kids."

Nat was silent for a moment before she finally responded.

"Tony's probably going to kill you for this, so you should pack your bags right now. Make funeral arrangements as well and update your will."

"Ah shit."

*Monday morning, 6:45 am*

Peter woke up to his phone ringing. He groaned and turned on his side to ignore the call. The phone rang again and he sighed before reluctantly sitting up and grabbing his phone.

What the hell, who's calling this early?

He looked at his notifications and saw multiple missed calls and texts from Ned and MJ. Something must have happened because Ned had typed in all caps, 'PETER EVERYONE KNOWS! CALL ME NOW!' MJ's text just said, 'I knew already. Don't try to hide it from me whenever you come to school.'

Instantly, Peter was wide awake. Did the whole world know he was Spiderman? But how did this happen, who would leak that information and how did they get it?

He called Ned and before he could even say, "What's up?" Ned butted in with a sentence he was not expecting.

"Peter, when were you going to tell me your dad was Tony Stark?! This is even bigger than Spiderman! As your Guy in the Chair, I think this knowledge might have been missing in our conversations."

Peter was at a loss for words as he stood up.

"It's all over social media and people are going apeshit over this!"

"Ned, you shouldn't believe everything you read on the internet." Peter replied in a nervous tone as he began pacing back and forth in his room. "How do you know the source is credible? Remember what Ms. Hernandez said about credibility when giving information in an essays or whatever?"

"But Peter, Hawkeye was the one who posted it. You know, the Avenger who shoots arrows?"

Peter stopped pacing and froze midstep.

Uncle Clint was behind this? But why?

"You sure he wasn't hacked?" Peter asked as he feebly attempted to get out of this confrontation.

"No, it's security footage from a lab. Tony said in the video that you guys were a family."

Peter then realized that he couldn't worm his way out of this situation. The whole world knew he and Harley were brothers and the sons of Tony Stark. Of course this happened, why wouldn't it?

"I'm going to call you back, I need to talk to Clint." Peter said.

"Ok, just let me know if you and Harley are going to be ok or not." Ned replied.

"Bye Ned."

"Bye."

Peter hung up and took a deep breath before leaving his room to go find Clint.

He entered the kitchen and almost everyone was there except the one person he wanted to talk to.

"Hey, uh, where's uncle Clint?" Peter asked.

Uncle Steve looked up from his breakfast.

"He left last night. Family emergency."

"Uh huh, so correct me if I'm wrong but Clint left because dad was going to kill him, right?"

Suddenly everyone was avoiding eye contact with Peter. Yup, everyone knew what happened.

Just then, Tony walked in with a very irritated expression.

"I don't think you and Harley are going to be able to go to school today. Some kid from your school, Dash or something posted you go to school with him and know you both. So there are multiple news stations outside the tower and surrounding your school. Might be best to just stay home today."

"Is Uncle Clint still alive?" Harley asked as he walked in, yawning.

"He is alive," Tony responded "Not for much longer though."

"Dad, you can't just kill him." Peter protested. "It's not like he actually did anything that warrants his death."

"I don't think he meant to do it." Harley added. "He deleted it maybe 10 minutes after he posted it but other people recorded it on their own devices and re shared it. He probably realized what he had done and tried to delete it but of course, once it's out there, it's out there."

"Don't kill Uncle Clint, he's got a wife and kids. Besides, we need him on the team." Peter said.

"We don't need Clint," Tony said, waving his hand. "I already got a replacement set up."

Peter had not heard of this new team member that was apparently going to replace Clint.

"Who is it?" Harley asked curiously.

"Kate Bishop. She's already on her way here. Clint trained her to take over the mantle of Hawkeye anyway so it shouldn't be that big a deal." Tony shrugged. "She's a bit older than you two, 18 or 19, I can't remember at the moment."

"Ok, then, as long as she's trusted by you." Peter relented.

"Don't know what she might be like, but if Clint trained her, and they share similar personalities, whatever spirits above help us." Harley said solemnly.

Peter smacked Harley's arm.

"Hey!" He complained.

"She's not even here yet and you are badmouthing her already. Have some manners, dude."

"It doesn't matter at the moment right? You said it yourself, she's not here yet and I will 'have some manners' when she does."

All of a sudden, Peter heard a nearly imperceptible shuffling coming from above. He felt a shiver go down his spine and the instinct to get into a defensive position.

"He's right, you should have some manners young man." An unfamiliar voice boomed from above.

Harley looked around wildly in confusion.

"Who's there?! Are you a spirit from above???" He asked.

All of a sudden, a figure dropped out of the vent directly above Harley and tackled him to the ground.

"And that is Kate Bishop." Tony said, answering the question in everyone's mind.

Kate released Harley from her grip and she helped him up.

"Clint was right," She said, smiling. "Crawling through the vents to prank people is fun."

She looked up to the open vent and held out her arms, to everyone's confusion.

"Lucky, come on down!" She called.

To everyone's shock, a dog with one good eye poked his head out from the vent and jumped into Kate's arms.

"Oh crap, nobody has allergies to dog dander, right?" Kate asked, looking at everyone.

"Maybe? I'm not sure." Peter replied.

"Damn, I should have checked before bringing him, huh." Kate muttered.

Tony waved his hand at the dog.

"As long as he's potty trained, we should be fine." He said, trying to reassure her worries. "We're all fine with dogs."

Peter thought back to all the dogs he's pet on patrol. They always seemed happy to play with him and now there was a dog in the tower. Huzzah, he didn't get to only pet dogs on patrol now!

"Well, all's well that ends well, right?" Peter said.

"How about everyone gets acquainted with Kate?" Tony suggested. "It's not like you two are going to school today anyway."

Peter and Harley agreed and that day became a get to know the new team member day.

Peter texted Ned to let him know he was going to school the next day and invited him to the tower after school to meet someone. Oh the look on Ned's face when he found out would be priceless.

Taglist:

@frostedgiant

Send an ask if you would like to be tagged!

[daddywanken0bi]

Silent Treatment

gif is not mine

word count: 3.1k

author: Allie

warnings: angst, some gore, talk about death. There aren’t really any, just a lot of feelings.

a/n: phew, okay, first post. Don’t be nervous, Allie, you can do it. Ah! Hi! I’m new to this! Please enjoy!

“Why do I always seem to find you in the infirmary?” You ask a dishevled Obi Wan with a knowing hand on your hip. His gaze flies from the expansive transparisteel to your eyes, a broad grin stretching his face.

“Where else would you find me?”

“I don’t know, elsewhere in the Temple.” You respond, checking your data pad then scanning his body for any injuries. “Or the senate building, perhaps. I don’t spend all of my time here, you know.” He lets out a chuckle.

“I know. But as a Jedi, I nearly always have an excuse to visit the med bay, more so than the senate building.” He remarks, his grin never faltering.

“It seems you live quite an opposite life from me, then.” You gather first-aid materials from the cabinets. “Senator Organa has been piling on the work. It seems the only time I’m not at the senate building is when I’m volunteering here-“

“Is when you’re spending time with me?” He grins playfully. You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile tugging at you lips.

“Patching you up, more like.”

“How is the Senator, by the way?”

“He is well.“

“Good.”

“Kind of you to ask about my mentor, Master Kenobi.” You smile as you prep a swab with antiseptic ointment.

“Well, his status tends to reflect onto you. I just want to make sure you’re well enough to fix me properly.”

You toss him another eye roll. His grin remains plastered.

“Now. What is your excuse for visiting me this time?”

“Well,” He began, “Anakin and I were assigned to guard Senator Amidala - there were recent threats on her life, my Padawan and I were the only ones available, you know how it goes. Anakin kept insisting that we investigate the matter, and I had to constantly remind him that we were there to protect, not interrogate. He was still difficult. Although, I’ve come to realize that when it comes to the senator, Anakin gets a little too carried away.”

“Doesn’t Anakin have a habit of getting too carried away?”

“Why, yes,” He chuckles, “However, I fear he has grown rather attached to her…” Obi Wan’s expression morphs, his grin faltering as he gazes at you. But it doesn’t remain long enough for you to decipher it. He shakes his head.

“Anyway, last night an assassin released a pair of Kouhun’s into the senator’s bedroom. Anakin sensed them just before I did. He ran in and killed the bugs just as I jumped out the window to-“

“You jumped out a window?!”

Obi Wan’s shit-eating grin returned.

“I’m alright, darling. I’m alive, aren’t I?” His assuring tone sends butterflies to your stomach. You shake your head and chuckle.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop unnecessarily putting your life at risk?”

“How many times have I visited the infirmary?”

“Obi Wan…” Your tone is stern yet compassionate, and he senses your concern.

“I’m sorry.” He says genuinely as he holds your eyes. You feel the butterflies flit around your insides again.

“Just don’t let me catch you back in here again anytime soon.” You finish patching up his face you don’t say anything about how he needn’t come to the infirmary for a scratch and he nods.

“I promise.”

“If you’ll wait just a moment, the doctor will be in shortly-“

“I think I’m alright,” He hops up from the bed and turns to you. “I only came to see you, anyway.” His eye drops in a wink and he jogs out the infirmary door.

*******

You should be paying attention, Representative Binks just moved to give the chancellor emergency power, but your mind keeps drifting back to what Obi Wan said to you in the infirmary: “I only came to see you, anyway.” You always knew that his injuries weren’t the only reason he visited the medical wing, but he never admitted it out loud before. And the fact that it was accompanied by a wink, well, the butterflies hadn’t stopped dancing since. You think about Obi Wan every day and every night, for that matter the whole week, and your mind is still spinning with thoughts of the suave Jedi. You wonder what he’s been up to, what missions he’s completed, what planet he’s on. And secretly hope he might dislocate his shoulder or sprain his ankle so he might remain in the infirmary for a few days when he gets back…

“Well, this is a terrifying turn of events.” Senator Organa’s words drag you out of your thoughts. You involuntarily hum at his exclamation. The senator turns to you.

“Have you been listening at all?” He asks, you wince.

“Not entirely, Senator.” He only sighs in response

“Will you be volunteering in the med bay this evening?”

“Only tomorrow.” You shake your head.

“Good. We have our work cut out for us. I need to send a message to Padme…” His voice trails as your mind returns to Obi Wan, your mind relishing in the sparkle of his eyes and the joy of his smile and how good his ass looks in those trousers. In all your years of knowing him, you only recently started noticing how handsome he truly is. Sure, he was attractive as a padawan, but it was more his humor and his nature that made you want to be his friend. However, as soon as he cut the braid and grew out his hair, he began to make you weak in the knees.

You would never admit it, though, at least not out loud, and especially not to his face. He is a good Jedi, dedicated to the council and the code. You are not convinced he would break it for an aspiring politician like you. So, you keep your pining to yourself, and cherish the brief moments you share in the medical wing.

*******

Two weeks after Obi Wan’s last visit, you get word of a devastating battle on Geonosis. Hundreds of Jedi dead, and the few survivors are to return in mere hours. Your mind instantly pictures your Jedi, the one you’ve foolishly grown so fond of. Had he been there? Did he make it out? Is he alive?

You tune your ears into the whispers buzzing through Senate. “Master Yoda came in with a clone army.” “Count Dooku is apparently a Sith Lord.” “Senator Amidala along with Master Kenobi and his padawan were captured and sentenced to be executed-“

Executed?! Your mind races against your heart, a neck and neck battle for the finish line. You bolt to the elevator, bouncing your knee and tugging the pendant around your neck, anxiously urging the machine to move faster. It reaches ground level. You don’t even bother looking for a speeder, the notorious Coruscant traffic will only hinder your mission. You run. No, sprint. With your shoes in your hand and the concrete hard on your feet, all you can think about is getting to the Jedi Temple as fast as possible, confirm that your Obi Wan isn’t dead.

The thought makes your heart shrivel inside your chest, and you aren’t sure if it’s the sting of the wind or your pain that pricks tears into your eyes. Obi Wan was permanent for you, a constant in your life. You wouldn’t know what to do if he were taken from you. Who else would brighten your day with only a smile? Who else would bring you such unconditional joy?

You don’t know how long it takes for you to arrive at the temple, but as soon as you do, you B-line for the docking bay, heaving and aching. You immediately spot Padme and Anakin being helped onto stretchers. You get closer and notice Padme has a gash slicing her back and Anakin missing an arm, but no sign of his Master.  

“Where is he?” You pant when you reach them. Anakin looks at you, reassuring yet unsurprised.

“He’s already at the infirmary. He’s in better shape than I am.” He winces and your heart rate slows.

“Oh, thank the Maker.” You exhale and express your gratitude before darting up to the medical wing.

“Miss (Y/L/N), I thought you didn’t have a shift today-“

“I’m here to see Master Kenobi.”

“Oh!” The receptionist’s eyebrows raised. “He’s just inside. He’s been asking for you.”

Asking for you. You barrel into the infirmary and scan the now-filled beds for the familiar strawberry blonde hair. You pan the room, eyes frantic until-

There he is, tucked into the bed furthest on the left, as disheveled as ever. Your shoulders drop in relief and his eyes meet yours. His grin splits his face as you approach him, like your presence is the only treatment he needs. All you can see of his injuries are a few scratches on his face and his arm in a sling. You are sure that isn’t the extent of them, but he’s breathing, and that’s all that matters. But it doesn’t ease the constricting under your ribs. You can tell he senses your concern and his brow creases.

“I’m fine, darling,” His voice is hoarse. “I’m going to be fine. The doc said they’re just flesh wounds.” Wounds. There’s more than one. “A few days in a bacta tube and I’ll be back to normal.”

“I heard you were to be executed.” Your lip unwillingly trembles. “I thought you…died,” You whimper. “I…I thought I lost you.” Your knees buckle. Obi’s smile falters and he reaches for your hand.

“You could never loose me, little one,” He brings your hand to his lips. “Never.”

You tear slips down your cheek and you stare at the hand that so gingerly grasps yours. Seeing him alive and intact should be enough to relieve you, yet you can’t help the nagging, tugging at your heart. What if you really had lost him? What if he was reckless? Or outnumbered? Or worse, what if he decided to play the hero and sacrifice himself? What would have been left of you then? Would he have even thought of you before drawing his final breath? Would he be as broken if the roles were reversed…?

You gently drop your hand from his grasp and you watch as his brow furrows. Without another word, you back away and slowly make your way out of the infirmary.

*******

It’s been days, no, weeks, you lost count since you last saw Obi Wan. This time, however, it’s on purpose that you don’t see him. On the day of his so near brush with death you vow to limit your interactions with your favorite Jedi. It would be easier to forget him that way. You cancel your shifts in the infirmary and dive head first into your senate work. And it’s not like you have to try very hard to do so: Senator Organa is swamped with messages and whatnot since the start of the Clone Wars, and can’t go through it all alone.

On day 15 17 18 locked in the senator’s office, you get a call from a rather frantic receptionist at the med bay.

“Please, Miss (Y/L/N)- there’s an empty bed in wing 5 -we are so short staffed and- the saline packets are already prepped -we could really use your help.”

“I’m sorry, but Senator Organa and I are overloaded with work-“

“If they need you, (Y/N), you can go.” The senator interrupts. Your eyes beg him to provide you with an excuse - you know if the infirmary is overwhelmed, then Obi Wan Kenobi is surely among the patients.

“But Senator, there’s still so much to-“

“Go.” He smiles knowingly. “I’ll be fine.” You fight the urge to roll your eyes. You know the receptionist on the other side of the hologram could hear the exchange with your mentor, so there was no way to wiggle yourself out of this one.

“I’m on my way.”

This time on your way to the temple, you’ll take a speeder.

When you arrive, it’s chaos. 50 clones are packed into the first wing of the infirmary, and you can imagine how many more congest the others. You grab the nearest datapad and quickly start assessing soldiers, determining who can be cleared and who needs to stay over night. You’re just finishing up with your 39th? patient when a familiar voice materializes behind you.

“You’ve been avoiding me, little one.”

You pause, blink slowly and let out an exasperated sigh. You discharge the clone, he was in better shape then most of his comrades, and muster all of the courage you can to face your Obi Wan. He’s banged up, but not nearly as busted as the last time he visited. However his most disturbing injury is that his usually sparkling eyes are shrouded in confusion.

“I haven’t-“

“Don’t lie to me,” He’s stern, “I can sense it.” Hurt flashes in his eyes before fading into selfless concern. He can see you’re struggling, but he doesn’t know why.

“Master Kenobi-“

“Darling, you can talking to me. Whatever is troubling you, please-“

“Master Kenobi, this is hardly the time or place-“

“I’ll come to your apartment tonight, then.” He tries to calm the panic in your voice and smiles warmly. “For a cup of tea.”

You can hardly focus the rest of the day. He looked so small, his usual confidence eluding him. You dare, for just a moment, to entertain the thought that he might be just as terrified to loose you as you are to loose him. But an incorrect stitch on a soldier’s wound immediately shakes it from your mind. As the amount of patients in the infirmary dwindle, the chief medic approaches you.

“Your assistance is no longer necessary, Miss.” He shakes your hand “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

“I’m happy to help.”

You make your way back to your apartment just as the sky starts to darken. You realize that Obi Wan never told you what time he would arrive. Of course didn’t, even without a schedule, his timing is always impeccable. You ponder what you might say to him. There’s no way to explain your recent behavior without confessing your feelings to him. But his eyes keep flashing in your mind; desperate, hurt, and confused. Is it at all possible he feels the same way?

You continue with your nighttime routine as if he weren’t coming at all. It’s better than just sitting and waiting at your kitchen table. You allow your body to take over and your mind to relax. The conversation you’re about to have is inevitable, there is no use fretting about it. You’ve been distancing yourself from him this whole time to lesson the pain of loosing him. Whether you lost him to his own mortality or to unrequited love, you are prepared nonetheless. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

You almost don’t hear the soft knock on your chamber door. You’d been staring into space for longer than you care to admit, lost in the beating of your heart in your throat. Your eyes flick to the door and you swallow the lump you notice forming.

“It’s unlocked.” You announce meekly. The door creaks, and a just as timid Obi Wan steps through.

“You really shouldn’t leave your door unlocked, you know.” He closes it with a soft thud. On any other day, you would have come up with an equally witty remark, but in this moment, all you can do is nod.

“Have you started the kettle?” He asks, already knowing the answer. He meets you in the kitchen and goes straight to the cabinet where the tea kettle lived. He’s been to your place countless times before. But this time, it feels like a stranger is in your flat. You’re silent as he prepares the pot.

“Tell me what’s on your mind, darling.”

“Obi…” You mumble. “I don’t know where to start.” Obi wan pulls two mugs from a top shelf.

“That day, after I came back from Geonosis, I’ve never seen you so upset.” He explains.

“I was.” You revel in how patient he’s being with you. You can feel how desperate he is for answers, but he isn’t pushing you. It’s in this moment you realize how much you’ve missed him, how wrong you’ve been this entire time.

“I was so afraid of loosing you, Obi Wan.” You begin, and your voice cracks. Obi Wan stops prepping the tea. You take a shaky breath. “I understood that the threat was always there, but being so close to actually loosing you…it terrified me. I thought that by limiting my contact with you, that fear would subside, I wouldn’t be so attached to you anymore.” You find his eyes. “I realize now how wrong I was.”

“What do you mean?”

“I realize that I would rather have you in my life and risk loosing you, than not have you at all. I’d rather risk my heart breaking everyday because I know you don’t love me the way I love you-“

You gasp. Your hands fly to cover your mouth. You’ve never said it aloud before. You swore you’d never say it to him. You watch his eyes widen and panic seeps into your veins.

“Oh, Obi Wan, please forgive me. I don’t want-“

In two long strides, his lips are on yours, his calloused hands gently, desperately pulling your face against his. You’re caught completely off guard, worried words muffled by his gesture. You would have fallen if it weren’t for his sturdy grasp.

But despite your whirring thoughts, your body melts into him, and you allow yourself to be held…kissed. Soon, your mind follows suit, and Obi Wan senses your relaxation. He relinquishes your lips, slow but sure, and eventually opens his eyes to meet yours, wide and searching. You bring your hands to hover above his chest. You’re trying to form words, but they escape you. All you can think about is Obi Wan stroking your hair behind your ear. You accept defeat, unable to express all that you are currently feeling, and place your hands on his chest.

“I am sorry to have been breaking your heart for so long,” He whipsers, “But it baffles me that you think I do not love you.” He rests his forehead against yours. “How could I not?”

“But the code-“

“Code be dammed.”

“But it’s illegal, Obi. You’ll be expelled.”

“Shhh, darling. That’s a conversation for the morning. For now, just promise you’ll never ignore me again. I couldn’t bare it.”

Relief, true relief, relaxes your shoulders and exhales from your mouth. You slide your fingertips along the linen of his tunic to his now shorter hair, pressing yourself closer to him.

“I promise.” You vow against his lips, this kiss gentler and sweeter than the last, lost in the bliss and the warmth that is your Obi Wan.

[pips-fics]

ask: hi sorry i sent the last ask about something seungmin centric lol but maybe it could be about him trying to hide a migraine from the others? anyway your writing is really nice and comforting btw thank u for writing!!<3

one might say that seungmin was in a certain amount of pain by the time he got back from recording at the studio.  one might say, in fact, that he was in excruciating pain.  one might say that if he didn’t do something quick, his head might explode.

seungmin would not be saying any of that.

the thing is, he had promised a handful of his members that he would go with them on a picnic.  not only that, he’d made them earn it by doing him favors around the dorm for a whole two days straight.  he might be strategic with allocating his time, but seungmin wasn’t cruel enough to just abandon them after all of that. so he helped jeongin gather supplies, and reminded hyunjin to bring his sunglasses, and walked out the door with felix wrapped around his shoulders and two metaphorical hammers pounding on his temples.  he could hardly see straight, but he figured that was part of the benefit of felix’s lack of regard for body space - he could pretty much let felix guide his feet at this point, even if he closed his eyes.  which, as they stepped into the glaring sunlight and seungmin realized he’d managed to forget his own sunglasses, actually didn’t seem like a horrible idea.

“-gmin!  seungminnie?”

seungmin’s steps jolted unsteadily as hyunjin’s voice sent pain through him like lightning.  felix unwrapped his arms but kept a steadying hand on seungmin’s shoulder.  even jeongin looked moderately concerned.

“you okay?”  felix asked.

“fine,” seungmin said, a bit too quickly.  hyunjin’s eyes narrowed.

“did you sleep last night?”

“of course.”  the chan’s the one who doesn’t sleep was implied.

“are you sick?”

“i am healthy.”

“did something happen at the recording?”

“no.  it was just long.”  it wasn’t, was the thing.  he’d been pretty proud of how he’d done, all things considered, his desperation to be home as soon as possible helping him to outperform even his own expectations.  but now even that was working against him.

the tenseness stayed in hyunjin’s shoulders, but there wasn’t much else he could do, so he let it go.  seungmin was glad.  he didn’t really feel like talking, especially now that felix had deliberately given him some space (a kind gesture, but not necessary) and he had to focus on finding the correct way using his own eyes.

it would be fine once they got there.  he’d find a nice, quiet spot in the shade and pretend to eat and then maybe take a nap.  but when they actually got there, hyunjin was keeping too close an eye on him.  seungmin needed to eat something if he wanted to prove that he was okay, so he picked up a cracker - he figured it that would be a good place to start, to help his stomach and head prepare themselves.

this was a bad idea, it turned out.  the nausea increased tenfold almost immediately, and his vision swam even more intensely.  sweat warmed his already-overheating neck and it took all of seungmin’s willpower to avoid curling into the fetal position right there and then.  he took a few deep breaths and his stomach settled somewhat, but just slightly.  hyunjin looked away with a scowl, and guilt settled in the space the nausea had left.  it felt… worse.

the thing is: he hadn’t lied.  not exactly.  but he felt like he had.  he knew, once the rest of them found out, that hyunjin would think so, too.  he kept his mouth shut and his head down for the rest of the picnic, letting felix and jeongin’s chatter wash over him.  hyunjin was nearly as quiet as seungmin, until they finished eating.

“let’s go back,” hyunjin said, as soon as felix finished his last bite.  this was surprising to felix and jeongin, who had been anticipating a much longer outing - seungmin had even helped jeongin find some playing cards to pack.  seungmin was the only one who had noticed that hyunjin was really upset.  that was because he was the person hyunjin was upset at.

he trudged along, steps slow and painful - even more so than on the way to the picnic - trying not to be stung by how eager hyunjin seemed to leave him in the dust.  felix squeezed his hand, and smiled, before darting ahead and chatting loudly with jeongin about video games.

seungmin didn’t know what it was that set him off.  the guilt or the noise or the sun or - probably - all of it together.  all of a sudden, his hands were on his knees and he was retching, loudly, and then there was hot liquid burning his throat and nostrils and splattering on the sidewalk.  he shuddered, and was sick again before he even really knew what was happening.

hyunjin was the first person to seungmin’s side.  of course he was - he’d known something was off.  “you are sick!”  seungmin listened for accusation in his tone, and found only concern.  and maybe a bit of frustration.

“no,” seungmin said, gasping.  “head - hurts.”  he was seeing stars.  he couldn’t stop retching, now that he’d started.

“your sunglasses— where are— ah, you forgot them?  kim seungmin, how irresponsible,” nerves, this time, in hyunjin’s voice, an anxious kind of humor.   “take mine.”

“i didn’t lie,” seungmin slurred.  he hardly knew what he was saying anymore, he was in so much pain, but he knew that was important.  he couldn’t hear what hyunjin said in return, but saw him shake his head - with anger?  seungmin didn’t know, couldn’t read faces anymore - before he half-carried him to the dorm elevator, with jeongin’s help.  felix, squeamish to his core, took the stairs on his own.

the elevator ride was painful.  not just because the bright lights made seungmin’s head hurt even worse, but because he could feel hyunjin’s eyes on him the whole time.  he was glad to step out, and was even more grateful to be home, as he entered the dorm somewhat unsteadily.

“woah,” someone said.  jisung, seungmin thought.  “you guys are back already?”

“he has a migraine,” someone said.  not hyunjin, because hyunjin was still, surprisingly, with seungmin, so he couldn’t be too angry.  right?  with the world spinning before his eyes, it was too much for seungmin to really figure out.  he gripped hyunjin’s arm tightly and let him lead seungmin to his bed.

seungmin sat there in a daze, staring vacantly at the floor as hyunjin rushed around the room, turning lights off and shutting the blinds.  dropping his head to his hands as if it weight hundreds of pounds, seungmin made some kind of pitiful whimpering sound and cut off an audible heave.  acidic sick splashed back into his throat and he swallowed it down, hoping to avoid a mess.  his stomach suddenly felt very bloated and the nausea worsened as his throat worked to keep the vile liquid down.

seungmin was surprised when a plastic trash can appeared in his hands.  a water belch rolled out of him, and with it, a rush of vomit.  he coughed, and an all-encompassing pain overtook him, followed by another violent heave.  this time, very little came up, a thin spray splattering the sides of the garbage bin.  seungmin didn’t notice he was shaking until hyunjin reached out a hand to steady him.

“are you done?”  hyunjin asked very quietly.

“i think,” seungmin croaked.  hyunjin took the soiled trash can away, and seungmin tried not to scream out as he attempted to find a comfortable position.  every tiny movement was a form of self-torture.

he was surprised when hyunjin came back.  it felt like hours passed before he did, and he felt tears jump to his eyes unsolicited when he returned.  “i’m sorry,” seungmin blurted out.

hyunjin frowned, and seungmin was confused again.  “don’t talk, just rest for now.”

“i didn’t want to ruin the picnic,” seungmin forged on, and now hyunjin looked confused.

“you didn’t.”

“yes, i—“

“is that why you didn’t tell us what was going on sooner?”  hyunjin interrupted, his voice even quieter than it had been.

“yes?”  seungmin blinked spots from his eyes.  they were distracting.  “are you angry?”

“no!”  that was a bit louder than hyunjin intended, and seungmin winced.  “sorry, no.  i was just worried, and i thought… well, i was a bit hurt.”

seungmin’s eyes widened and hyunjin shrugged.

“i thought by now you’d trust us enough to tell us if you’re hurting.”

“i do!  i just thought…”

“that we’d rather enjoy ourselves in ignorant bliss while you suffered for our happiness?”  hyunjin shook his head.  “that hurts us, too, seungmin.”

tears welled in seungmin’s eyes, and hyunjin looked like he wanted to take the words back.

“but i’m not mad!  i’m not even upset anymore.  i know you weren’t thinking straight, minnie, i just, i want to know how i can do more to help you next time.  but that can wait.  we’ll talk more when you’re feeling better, okay?  i’m not mad.”

“okay,” seungmin’s voice sounded small, even to his own ears.  hyunjin got up from the bed, then hesitated.

“do you want— can i stay?”

seungmin’s instinct was to say there was no need, to push hyunjin away, to act like he wanted to be alone.  but he didn’t.  he wanted someone to hold his hand and maybe give him a back rub, and here was hyunjin, offering to be here.

“please,” seungmin said, reaching out a hand.

——

feel free to send more asks!

[johnkrrasinski]

one bad day;

full masterlist

Pairings: Steve Rogers x female!reader

Word count: 4,128

Warning: angst, fluff with steve rogers though 

Summary: you just lost your job and you couldn’t find an easy way to tell your boyfriend, Steve about it. lucky for you, he’s the kindest boyfriend you could ever ask for, though. 

a/n: hey there!! i recently got this idea where i was having one of my bad days myself and of course, like most people, one of the reasons was this pandemic. i am also aware of how many people are struggling with finance right now and i truly hope that this fic could ease your pain somehow, even just a little bit. if you are in a really bad place right now; whether it’s financially, emotionally or mentally, or even physically, i truly hope that things get better for you and that you deserve all the happiness in the world. hang in there. i believe in you. if you need someone to talk to but don’t know who, you can message me or dm me on my instagram (@keedyperestroika) anytime. don’t hesitate if you can’t hold it on your own any longer. anyway, enjoy! 

You just had a terrible day. You are currently walking home from work, waiting for the traffic lights to turn into a walking person sign, to let the pedestrians cross the street. You have this fatigued and exasperated look on your face that most New Yorkers have when it's 5 pm and the streets are filled with people carrying their suitcases in their formal attires. But despite the weariness and the stress that is clouding over people's heads, they still walk faster than the subway train that would take these people to their office and back home.

Just like life doesn't stop no matter how worn out you are. It doesn't care whether you are alive or you are dying, it just keeps going at a 132 km per hour. You were supposed to just sit there as a passenger in this speeding vehicle that goes beyond out of your control. So you buried your hands deeper in your pocket and walk as quickly as you can with all the strength you have left. The grumbling crowd behind you isn't going to wait for any second longer.

You had worked in this local cafe called Le Chateau for 7 months now, and the pay is alright but the tip is good on the average days, especially on the weekend. At least it's enough to keep yourself afloat living in Manhattan. But it's not exactly the most amiable environment to work in.

You had to deal with a lot of rude customers who think they own the place and they can say whatever they want to you as if you live to serve them because they have the money. It had been 7 months of dealing with this and it still destroys your mood every single time. So you decided that today was the day that you were going to stand up to yourself and do the right thing.

Earlier today, a man in a white collared shirt and khaki pants walked into the cafe while talking on his phone with a furious tone. You already knew this one would be a pain in the ass to serve, he doesn't seem like the kind of person who would greet you with a smile and order in a cordial manner, so you asked him.

"How can I help you today?" The man doesn't answer. He continues to talk on his phone while lifting a finger signaling you to wait, hold on.

Meanwhile, at 8 in the morning, every cafe in the streets of Sixth Avenue is filled with fast-paced folks who want to make their order, get their coffee, pay for it and flee as soon as possible so they wouldn't be late to work. But apparently, not this man, whatever his agenda is for today, he clearly wasn't in a rush, but that doesn't mean the horde lining up behind him isn't.

He was talking so loudly, screaming his words into the poor ears of whoever is on the other side of the call, he was talking about some improper order that he was supposed to today, meanwhile, everyone in the queue is getting sourer, if humans had their klaxon pressed up somewhere part of their limbs, they would be honking simultaneously and incessantly right now. But this man was too selfish to sense that the people around him were irritated and that time isn't waiting upon him.

"Sir, could you please step aside for a moment if you are not going to make a direct order?" You tried to be as polite as possible, not wanting to piss him off even more.

"Hold on." He notified the callee. "What?"

"I said, could you please step aside if you are not going to make an order right away, people are lining up sir."

"Lady, I'm on the phone about an important business that will cost me millions if I don't take care of this matter right now. Now, you better shut up unless your salary in a year could indemnify my loss." He went back to his phone with his hand on the counter and people were starting to yell, but he still didn't give a shit. He just stood there as if he was the only person in the room.

"Sir, please, step aside for just one moment and come back when you are ready to make an order. You are holding back the line."

He looked at you incredulously as if you had just called him an asshole in a public place. "What the fuck is the matter with you? Don't you know who I am?"

You took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself in 0.0002 seconds before answering, "I'm not trying to be rude here sir, I am simply asking you to just step aside so that other people could make an order and you could wait for your turn when you are done with your call."

"Hey, I make $20,000 per hour and I am not going to waste a single minute talking to you or waiting in a line of another 20 people ordering their tasteless drinks while I could be making another 20,000, I could buy this whole cafe in one night if I want to and where would you be? In the streets begging for shitty jobs of scrubbing toilets or taking out the garbage so shut up or I'm going to make that a reality for you."

You couldn't believe the words that had just been vomited all over you. It felt like you had just been stripped down naked in an open space. You had dealt with countless impudent customers but no one had ever been as obnoxious as this guy.

He had straight-up humiliated you as if you were nothing but a slave. You couldn't hold yourself back any longer, the ounce of patience in you was wearing thin, so you did what you knew you always had to do. You fought back.

You scoffed and shook your head. "You know what, I don't give a fuck how much you make money per hour or that you can buy this cafe in one night. Men like you think you own everything and everyone? And that you can just treat people however you want? Well let me be the one to tell you this asshole, you are just an insolent piece of shit."

And that's how you ended up losing your job. Yup, by standing up to a corrupted man. Your manager, Brock Rumlow, had called you to his office later that day and had taken the job to be the second person to scream at you that day as if you were nothing but an owned slave who had just broken your master's favorite vase. Even though you had explained the whole incident, he still didn't give a single fuck about your explanation.

"It doesn't fucking matter! He is a customer, an important one! What do I always say? Customers are the kings! You don't talk back to them, you don't raise your voice to them, you don't glare at them! You. Serve. Them. Well." He asserted each word with a stern glare that could cut your skull wide open. "And if they told you to fucking wait for them, then you better fucking wait for them!"

That's what it's like working in a big, expeditious city that is owned by capitalists and men in charge, sitting on their throne with their feet up their servants' backs to keep them cozy. You had enough. You had enough of the shitty attitudes, inappropriate customers who try to flirt with you, and your overbearing boss.

So you carried your heavy steps on the pavement to the building that you live in. This day had been such chaos to you that you just want to go home to your boyfriend. Your boyfriend, Steve Rogers, who would always try to comfort you on your worst days by ordering you pizza or offer to give you a massage after a seemingly-never-ending way.

His blue eyes that would calm the raging storm inside of your heart and his tender touches that would shut the vicious words in your head away. His kisses that would melt you like ice cream on a summer day, but also, made you feel safe and protected. Like you know it's gonna be okay. You just do. The promise is in his kisses.

You walked home to a tranquil environment. A place with a few potted plants here and there, a soft 40's music playing somewhere in one of the rooms, and to a large, muscular man in a dark blue shirt that is doing a poor job at fitting his muscles. He was wearing an apron with a picture of a white, furry cat holding a ball in front of it and he had a spatula on his right hand.

"Hey babe, you're home!" He greeted you with that lovely smile you have missed.

"Yes, I am. Are you cooking?" It was hard for you not to smile at the heartwarming image despite your awful mood.

"Yeah, I am. I figured we should eat something home-cooked today... We have been ordering too many takeouts, my organs are starting to give in." And at that attempted joke, he smirked.

You couldn't help but laugh at how horrible that joke is. Also, at how adorable and proud he looks at that joke. He would always try to make you laugh with his featherbrained humor and his even better attempt at it.

You shook your head subtly and spoke up, "I'm pretty bushed, think I'm gonna treat myself with a nice long bath first."

"Okay, sweetheart." He gave you a peck on the lips. It was brief but enough to elevate your somber mood. At least for now.

You stripped yourself out of the clothes that you wore from your former workplace to home, put your hair in a messy bun, and threw in your favorite lush bath bomb that would make your bath experience far way more pleasant in this bleak evening. You poured yourself a glass of red wine and turned on your favorite Jazz music playlist.

You needed to clear your head after the long, hard day. You were trying to come up with ways on how to initiate the conversation about telling him that you had just lost your job and that you had an unfortunate incident earlier that kinda got your own ass fired, as your former boss spat.

The truth is, you and Steve had been dating for three years before you both decided to move to Manhattan. You and Steve used to live in Brooklyn and had moved a year ago. You used to live in the same neighborhood, went to the same school, and had been friends since childhood but were never really close. You knew his best friend though, Bucky Barnes, Brooklyn's most eligible bachelor, the playboy with a pretty face that could make a lot of girls and boys weak at the knees, that would take different ladies on a date every Friday night but never settled for one.

Steve was a lot smaller and skinnier back then, he wasn't the huge, muscular man with the perfectly trimmed beard sitting on his face that he is now that could've taken any girl that he wanted on a date. He was shy and introverted, unlike Bucky who was outgoing and confident. Sometimes it dazes you that these two were really best friends, they were too different in a lot of aspects.

You also knew Sarah Rogers, Steve Rogers' mom who had raised him as a single mother, all on her own because, his father, Joseph Rogers was an abusive husband who used to beat Sarah up after he got wasted every night and would often threaten to kill her. So one day, Sarah decided that she had enough, she took up every bit of penny that she had in her purse and gathered all the courage that she had within her to leave him and bring 4 years old Steve Rogers with her. They found a nice, little house in Brooklyn. It wasn't much but it will do for the two of them. It was only her and him since that day.

By the time you both went to college, you went on separate ways. You had gone to Colombus Culinary Institute in Ohio, and Steve had gone to Rhode Island School of Design. After you both had graduated, you came back home to Brooklyn. On one fortunate Autumn day, you went shopping at the convenience store which was located near your home, you crossed paths with Steve Rogers, the scrawny, sickly fella that you used to know, now all grown up and buffed up. He is so... handsome. You had never noticed how lustrous his oceanic eyes are.

Despite all the glow up that he had, his gentle demeanor still hadn't changed.  He was still that shy, introverted kid who would blush at the slightest human contact with a woman.

He had bumped into you in the dairy section whilst you were too busy ruminating on which cardboard milk you wanted to buy, on the opposite direction, Steve was too busy checking through the list on his phone, ensuring that every single item that he had noted down on his phone had been checked off. And so, the little incident happened.

You had caught up with how things had been for the two of you during college, never realizing that the sparks had always been there, you were just too young and foolish to let it lead you to anywhere. Next thing you knew, you were saving up to move to Manhattan.

Steve had decided to move to the big city with the hope of becoming a professional artist and hoping that he would open his own gallery someday. Of course, that wouldn't be as easy as finding an empty space in the town and transfer your money. Like you said, Manhattan is expensive. Much worse than Brooklyn.

Steve had graduated from RISD with an art degree as he had always possessed a raw talent in art and painting. He was always brilliant in designing and drawing too. You believed in him, and he believed in you. You, on the other hand, wanted to be a chef at a five stars restaurant with the hope that you could save up enough money to open your very own five stars restaurant. But of course, those dreams wouldn't happen overnight too. You had to work twice as hard and so, you were left with nothing but the choice to become a waitress slash cashier at a cafe, which now had forfeited. Now you were going to have to find another admissible job that could at least help you stay afloat for now.

You had lost track of time of how long you had been in the bathtub. You were getting drowsy but your stomach started to make grumbling noises that signaled you that you had to have the conversation tonight. You thought about postponing it 'till the morning, maybe you could suck him off and make love to him before you sleep. Yeah, that seemed like a perfect way to initiate the daunting conversation. At least he'd feel a little more relaxed than before, but no, you were an adult, and adults communicate things out. Not keep secrets from each other and dodge dreary conversations.

You got out off the tub, dried yourself with a towel, and wrapped yourself in a cotton bathrobe that had always fit your body perfect and comforted you on days like this. You walked out of the bathroom, and saw your boyfriend's broad back facing you, he was still in the kitchen, but he had finished his cooking. He was currently cleaning the tiny kitchen counter off the remnants that had smeared the tiles.

You leisurely walk toward him, circling him with your arms and pressed your chest, and rested the left side of your face against his broad back. This is your safe place, your little bliss on earth. Where you can feel him so close against you. Your fingers roam all over his firm chest and closed your eyes and just relish in this pleasant moment. You let yourself get lost in his warmth, savor the strong man that you had come to know as home.

He chuckled and took your hands in his and kissed the palms. It's like he could read your mind before you even said a word. He had learned about you intimately for way too long to not understand it by now.

"Bad day?"

"Worse."

"Hm. Wanna talk about it?"

"Later, maybe, but for now, I just really wanna spoil myself with my boyfriend's amazing culinary skills."

"Okay, now you are just mocking me."

"I'm not! As a future chef myself, I know good food when I eat one. And when the man who makes them is a five stars meal himself, it wouldn't be so hard to cook one."

Despite having been dating for three years, you still flirt with each other like teenagers pining over each other. You were grateful to have such a loving man who never stopped making you feel cherished even when you couldn't believe in yourself. He'd always be there for you, to back you up, to encourage you and help you reach the finish line, and you would do the same for him without a single doubt.

You two sat on your tiny dining room, eating in comfortable silence. He told you about the client that had called him for the second time that week to book him for the weekend. He said the client told him that after many considerations, she liked his work best amongst other artists she had looked through. She wanted him to paint a portrait of their family because she "believed that painting is the most delicate form of art." With her own words. He was excited to bring out the passionate artist in him once again.

You nodded as you chewed you food and braced yourself to finally bite your tongue and unleash the words that had been gnawing the insides of your stomach. So you took a deep breath and said; "I just got fired today."

Steve stopped scooping the mashed potatoes that he wanted to mix with the honey butter chicken he meticulously put together a couple of hours ago. He sat there frozen, eyes glued to the cuisine placed neatly in front of him.

You and Steve had been struggling to make ends meet, with both of your average income just barely enough to pay the bills and cover up the expenditure, you didn't have much when you first came into the city, but at least when you started working at La Chateau, the burden of your bankroll had become less tyrannical. Steve had to wait for clients to hire him to receive incomes, which is only occasional, you'd never tell him to get another job because he believed in his dedication to his art and he told you once that he would lose his mind trying to do what he wasn't born to do.

However, with the dire situation you two are currently stuck in now, well, it's only been less than 24 hours but, it's going be the circumstances you two will have to endure for God knows how long. You were hoping that by having this conversation as soon as possible, you two are going to come up with a solution on how to survive.

"What happened?" He finally gazed into your eyes with that ridiculously sexy disappointed look on his face. Even when he's not in the most cheerful mood, he is still insanely attractive, it should be a crime.

You explained the whole incident, starting from when that prick walked into the cafe and to the last thing your boss said, no, no, yelled at you.

You were bracing yourself for the even worse discouraged words coming from his mouth, you were expecting that he'd get up and storm into your bedroom so he could clear his head and then maybe, maybe, after that he'd be ready to talk to you. He would never hit you or blame you, positively never, but sometimes when he's angry or he's downhearted, he would shut himself away and would utter very few words when it's absolutely necessary.

You hated seeing him like that. You hated seeing him dismayed, you hated seeing that scowl on his face caused by the stress of life. You would always try to give him a massage, or rub his back as to offer comfort. You were lucky if he even spoke a few words about his feelings to you. Which happened only once, a couple of years ago, when his mother died due to tuberculosis. She had been sick for several years before that. It had only gotten worse during the last six months before she passed away. You had never seen Steve so vulnerable before and you remember holding him tight until he fell asleep in your arms.

You hadn't realized that you had started crying and tears were brimming in your eyes. You felt your vision started to become blurry and you saw your boyfriend, got out of his chair, and walked up to you so he could comfort you the way you had alleviated him from his demons before. He got down on his knees and put his hands on your shoulders to ease the tension on them. Wordlessly, he embraced you in his arms and you put yours around his neck to hold on to him even tighter than you ever did. You needed him, and you wanted to feel him as close as possible.

You sobbed even harder than you planned on, hell, you didn't even plan on to turn this into a poignant conversation for the two of you. But you couldn't help it, the emotions had taken a toll on you and you were finally able to just let yourself fall free into the love of your life, let everything sink and pour it out bit by bit before him.

He spoke up with a gentle voice, "honey, I'm proud of you, for standing up for yourself like that. You did what was right, you did what you should've done a long time ago. I couldn't bear the thought of people treating you like that, you deserve to be surrounded by people who revere you and an environment that makes you happy."

"I know, Steve, but now I don't know how we are going to pay our bills, how we are going to fill our fridge, and how we are going to-"

He shushed you and grabbed your face in his calloused hands. "Honey, we are going to figure this out.  We always do. I have faith in us, and as long as we got each other, we are going to be okay. I promise you."

"How can you be so sure?" you stifled.

"Because I remember when I was skeptical about our future, you were there, and you convinced me that we'd come through. I mean, look at how far we've come! Remember when we thought we would never save enough money to rent a place in Manhattan? But we were wrong. Remember when we thought, we wouldn't be able to fill in our gas tank? We overcame that too."

"But it's going to be different now that I am unemployed, and I am getting even further than I was before to my dreams."

"Honey, all setbacks are just a hitch along the journey. I promise you, we can defeat this together, you and I. I am getting hired for the weekend, aren't I? I made a promise that I'll take care of you and I will hold on to my word. I love you."

"I love you too. Thank you for never giving up on me. I don't know how I got so lucky to end up with you."

"You've done the same for me and you would do it again. And I can say the same thing about you. On my worst days, I'd wonder how you still haven't left me yet."

You flashed him a smile, a genuine one this time, it wasn't much but it will do for now. And you were content to have this man by your side to go through all the highs and the lows with.

"There's that beautiful smile. Now, how about we finish our dinner, and we can go cuddle in our bed okay? Whatever tomorrow will be, let it be. We'll figure it out step by step."

"Sounds good."

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 84

~*~Sebastian~*~

I have loved every moment we've been in Paris. Everything we've done, everything we've seen. All of it. But nothing more than the last five minutes. This was perfect. This was us. This was how it’s supposed to work. I knew what was going on with Emma and I went around her defenses the way she does my anxiety. I told her a story (true) about me to make sure she knew it was alright to be her and I understood. At first, she looked annoyed but I saw the change. My change in tone and what I said had triggered something.

Emma licked her lips slowly, like I do when considering, then started to smile, "Thank you. I knew what I was doing, but hadn't put it all together. You're right it doesn't feel like my choice, but it is always my choice. The rest is bullshit." She leaned closer and I closed the distance to kiss her. "I love you, Bastian."

I sat back, flagging down the waiter with flutes of champagne and handing one to Emma. I waved my finger back and forth between us, "So this is two people pushing and supporting each other."

She sat back with the same smug look I was feeling, "I think so. Growing together.” We laughed for a moment. "Sorry, I was being difficult."

I shook my head, remembering my session with Celie. "Even if this is the best we get, we're going to be just fine." I took her hand and brought it to my mouth. "I love you." I kissed her hand and laid it on the table, like every other time we've sat together.

A few minutes later Jessica and Gian came off the dance floor, "Are we interrupting?"

This tells me Jessica noticed the intensity of our conversation. "Nope, have a seat." I leaned onto the table. "Dancing is so much more fun before you watch other people and hope you don't look as spastic and uncoordinated."

Jessica reached over the table, laying her hand on my forearm, "Sebastian, I promise you did look just as spastic and uncoordinated."

We shared a car back to the hotel. Emma invited them to go along on our private tour of Montmartre, which I was on board with. I ran by the concierge desk with the update before joining the other three in the elevator where Jessica and Emma had planned our day. We'd join them in their room for coffee and leave from there. Us coming to them gave them a chance to show off their daughter. I’m good with that too. I'd like to play with a little girl.

I'm not around a lot of kids. My friends aren't replicating yet. I need to go to Emma's classroom soon. She has a little herd of them that aren't sick or sad, like a lot of the charity visits I do. It's very rewarding but difficult. A group of healthy happy kids would be fun.

Emma led the way into the bedroom. "Sebastian, would you come undo my dress?"

"Yes," couldn’t have been said fast enough. I took great joy unlacing her dress. Something was exciting about pulling the long strings one by one. Watching them slide through the grommets and along my fingers. I got a nice rhythm going.

On closer look, her hair wasn't a single braid but several coming together from different directions, some tighter than others. It hung going over one shoulder. "I love your hair like this." I kissed her neck on the side her hair wasn't. "Can I take it down?"

"Whatever you prefer." She glanced over her shoulder at me. "If I say no will I be forbidden to blow you?"

"That would be self-defeating." I slid her dress off her shoulders letting it fall to the ground.

I undid her hair much slower than I had her dress. I removed the band holding the three braids together then chose the middle one. I ran my fingers through the silky strands from underneath. I buried my face in her hair enjoying the smell and softness against my skin. I pressed my hips against her so she could feel what all this unlacing had done to me. Her bare shoulder was a perfect place to rub my beard. "Do I need to go shave so you'll let me go down on you?"

Emma snorted a laugh, "No. I like the feel of your beard on my stomach."

I kissed up her neck to her ear and whispered, "Not your inner thigh?"

She turned, draping an arm over my shoulder, her other hand on my chest. "I can't remember."

"Well, I'll have to give it a try and see what you think."

~*~*~*~

The next morning, I awoke first. Blondish hair spilled from her pillow onto mine. I was all too aware tomorrow would be the last day I'd wake up like this for a long time. Historically, filming days are long and I collapse as soon as I'm back to my room. During the day I'm focused on work or relaxing with my co-workers.

Which means mornings are going to suck.

I stayed put and soaked it all in. Emma looked over as soon as she woke up. A smile was forming while she rolled toward me. I lifted my arm to welcome her, moving to my side and holding her lightly. "Morning, sunshine."

"Good morning." She kissed my chest where her head laid. "Been awake long?"

"Not so much." I snuggled in closer. "Enjoying the view. You're beautiful in the morning."

She tilted her face up to meet my eyes, "Thank you. When don't you think I'm beautiful?"

I pretended to think, "Never."

"Te iubesc, Sebasti-an." "Te iubesc, Emiliana."

We started the day as we'd ended last night, naked and slightly breathless. While catching my breath I looked over with a sigh, "It's going to be a good day."

Emma rolled to her stomach, propped on her elbows. "Thank you again for bringing me."

The last thing Emma needed to do was thank me. That said, the simple appreciation was a nice change. It's a little shocking how often those words aren't spoken. I don’t keep track. I only notice when there's a consistent lack of them.

"You're welcome again." I kissed her nose, "Shower?"

Emma gasped, "Is that an invitation?"

"Can I wash your hair?"

"Sure."

"Yes, it's an invitation."

Reality smacked me after our shower when Emma dried off her shower supplies and put them in their leak-proof bag. I felt a twisting in my stomach, which must have shown on my face. Emma pressed her towel covered body against mine, "If I pack now, we can just enjoy tomorrow."

"Was I pouting?"

She shook her head, "You looked like I feel about it."

"Somehow that helps." Our laughter was tinged with something less than humor.

Emma did a lot of things to make tomorrow morning about us. She curled her hair, so she could easily pull it up. She laid out her clothes for the plane, so she could pack the rest. And she packed all the bathroom stuff except what she'd need in the morning. It wasn't like I couldn't bring her anything she left behind.

I hope she forgets something.

I was ready before her and headed into the sitting room. I settled on the couch to get into the app she'd installed. I didn't go into “Things for Sebastian”. That's not what I needed. I created a page and titled it, "Things for Emma"

1.      I love you

2.      You are beautiful. Inside and out.

3.      I miss you

4.      I crave the touch of your fingers

5.      And your lips

6.      I need to make a page for dirty thoughts

7.      In a room full of people I can feel you near

8.      It pisses me off when you won't let me rip something off you.

9.      I appreciate how kind you are to my mom.

10.   Your dad still kinda scares me.

Ten was my goal for the morning.

Jessica and Gian were closer to ready than they lead us to believe they would be. They had a nanny for the fifteen-month-old daughter Giulietta, but they liked to handle the morning routine and breakfast. Jessica let us in and ran back to the bedroom pointing us in the direction of Gian. He was sitting at the table supervising a toddler eating berries, yoghurt, and pieces of a croissant. Giulietta immediately stopped eating and shifted her attention to us. She held out her little pudgy arm pointing at me and said, "Da!"

My eyebrows shot up, "I don't think so, but you are cute."

Gian interpreted, "Every male is a Da."

Giulietta held her arms up to me, "Up, Da."

I looked at her real Da, "This ok?"

"Yes, she's sturdy. You won’t break her."

Emma groaned, "She’s a sweet little princess."

I picked her up, holding her in front of me to talk, "Hi Giulietta. Can you say Hi, Seb?"

Gian said, "Give him a kiss."

She landed a very wet open-mouthed kiss on my cheek. "Ah, thank you." I brought her closer and kissed her cheek, without all the slobber.

Giulietta smacked her hands on either side of my face repeatedly, laughing with every sound and face I made. It became a game where I poked her and she laughed then she pulled or poked something on my face, the only place she could reach, and laughed at my response. Her giggling was precious, even more so when she got the hiccups.

Emma had sat down, Gian having poured her a cup of coffee, and Emma eating the same berries and croissant. I sat down with the baby standing and bouncing on my lap. I turned my head, opening my mouth, encouraging Emma to share her food with me. A few bites in and the little girl decided she wanted in on the action. She reached for Emma and left me.

I lost Emma too.

I poured myself a cup of coffee and talked with Gian about the tour. Cheese, wine, and bakery items while on a walking tour of Montmartre complete with museums and shopping before dropping us off at a cafe for a proper lunch. Although I’m sure Emma will continue with cheese and wine.

An overly cheery and overly expressive voice came from my left. Not talking to me, but about me. "Listen to that mean man, Giulietta. Making fun of me for my love of cheese. He's just afraid I love cheese more than him, which I do not. Or maybe he's afraid I'm going to steal all the baby kisses. She snuggled into Giulietta’s neck and started saying, "nom, nom, nom." More little girl laughter filled the air. This time ending with her wrapping her arms around Emma's head while Emma blew raspberries on her belly.

The fun ended with a recognizable sound followed by a less than pleasant smell. I backed away, Gian grimaced and apologized. Emma laughed, "What did you did, Guilietta? What did you do?" Gian started to stand, Emma shook her head, "Stay put. Where are her diapers?"

"There's a diaper bag by the couch."

I smiled at Gian, "You didn't fight that offer."

Gian snickered, "Never turn down an offer to change a diaper that smells like that."

Jessica joined us, noticing the missing people, "What have you two done?"

We both looked innocent. "Nothing."

I added, "Emma had her when the problem occurred."

Jessica teasingly pulled her husband’s ear, "You dumped our shitty baby on a new friend."

From the other room, Emma called out, "The best conversations happen during diaper changes." Emma came back into the room, holding her hands above her head, helping balance her as she tried to walk. "Who is that Giulietta?"

"Mama mama."

Jessica glowed looking at her daughter, "That's my baby girl."

She picked her up and hugged her, "You've been flirting with a boy then made him jealous by leaving him for another."

I snorted, "Not jealous of the diaper explosion."

"Baby wipes clean up everything." Emma looked at Jessica, "Can I use your bathroom?"

Jessica pointed. Emma left the door open while she washed her hands and she and Jessica kept talking, "You did that fast. You have younger siblings."

"Two little sisters and a niece. Olivia was out of diapers before I got there. We took turns with Harper." She joined us back at the table, "My sister had a tough delivery ending in an emergency C- section. I took care of Katie for the first couple of weeks. It’s crazy how formula goes in and toxic waste comes out."

"Fun fact." I raised a finger, "I've never changed a diaper."

"When we're old you can change mine."

I made a face, "I've got you by eight years. I think you'll be first with that duty."

Gian looked at us then his wife, "This has gone in a weird direction."

I snorted, "Usually does." This weird direction was courtesy of neither of us going near the baby thing. We’d discussed not discussing it.

Jessica handed the baby to the nanny and we headed to Montmartre. Our guide, Elodie, met us at the foot of the hill. Oh fuck, the way she looked at me. She not only knew who I was, she liked it.

Elodie was a good tour guide. She knew the history of the area, fast-tracked us through museums, and pointed out interesting shops. We stopped at several local eateries for a glass of wine or bite to eat then on to the next place. Emma enjoyed the cheese most, Jessica the macaroons, and Sian and I the wine. I held Emma's hand as we walked. Elodie would stop and turn to talk. And flirt. At one of our shopping stops Emma and Jessica came back from the bathroom right as Elodie laughed and put her hand on my arm. Both women looked at me and rolled their eyes. On our way to the next stop Emma leaned closer, "She flirts with you with me standing right here."

I nodded, "I noticed." She wasn't acting upset, but I thought it best to ask. "Are you pissed?"

She screwed up her face, "No. Do you think if you flirted back a little I could get some extra cheese? Maybe an off the tour place that can’t pay to be included?"

Jessica leaned over. "We'd appreciate wine."

I looked at them in turn, "You're trading me for cheese and wine?"

"They have really good cheese here."

Jessica just nodded.

Next shop when Elodie found her way to me for a little more flirting, I put my hand on hers that was on my arm and asked about any place off the beaten path that we shouldn't miss.

Elodie smiled, "We're contracted for certain establishments."

"I know, but you've seen what we like. Maybe a smaller place that’s delicious, but can’t afford to be on a tour." I leaned closer and whispered, "I'd appreciate it."

"I’ll try to think of a place."

"Thank you." I kissed her cheek, patted her hand, and walked to Emma. Smiling.

Emma pursed her lips try to look disapproving but started smiling. "That wasn't you’re A-game, but it's going to work."

"Cheese isn't worthy of my A-game."

Her smile turned a little evil, "What’s worthy of your A-game?"

"Separating you from your panties." I took her hand and led her outside.

Fifteen minutes later we were at a small store you wouldn’t find if you didn’t know it was there. All of us were happy. Jessica and Gian bought three bottles of wine. Emma nearly had an orgasm over a cheese, which made me happy. Elodie was happy when she said goodbye to us outside the cafe and I took a picture hugging her.

There'd been a lot of walking between cheese and wine stops. By design, we were supposed to be a little high as we shopped and still hungry at the cafe. We were. It was a fun meal with lots of laughter. Jessica had no lack of stories from filming and press for “The Martian”.

I only thought how Emma wouldn't be here for lunch tomorrow about a dozen times.

Our tour didn't include Sacré-Cœur. It was easy enough without a guide. We headed that direction after lunch. The street we walked down led past a small square with a big wall covered in words.

Jessica pointed, “The I Love You wall." She went in that direction. "I think there's over a hundred languages. You two need to find Romanian."

There wasn't a crowd of people. It was a polite tourist spot with people taking it in turns to take pictures near their language. We stood back and I quickly found the words. Jessica had found the Italian version. We traded phones for pictures. Romantic, coupley, tourist bullshit pictures. It was great.

The view of the city from Sacré-Cœur was beautiful. A little down from the crowd we sat on a wall overlooking the city. Gian and Jessica decided it was time for them to head back. We were going to walk amongst the artists. Emma got up to hug them goodbye then climbed back on the wall with me. The quiet moment enjoying the view was interrupted by my text notification. I was going to ignore it, but something told me to check. I nudged Emma to show her the picture Jessica had sent. They'd paused as they left to take a picture of us on the wall. My arm was around Emma's waist, her head was on my shoulder, and I was kissing her head. "I fucking love this."

"Me too." She kissed me. "This is what I want to post. Will you ask Jessica if it's ok?"

"Sure." I forwarded the picture to Emma before texting Jessica. She didn’t care.

I sat there watching Emma type out the caption, but still went to the app when my notification went off. She'd framed where we were on the bottom right and the Eiffel Tower was top left. It was a very sweet picture. I wanted to post it too, but if I did we’d have to evacuate the area. I wasn’t ready to leave.

Emma captioned it, "Beautiful view with my love."

I tapped the little red heart and commented, "Paris is for lovers."

Almost quicker than me Amy had commented, "You're in Paris? When will you be back?"

She responded, "Tomorrow night. 🙁”

I pulled her into a tight hug, "I'm proud of you."

She looked like I felt when she said the same thing to me. "This feels better. You were right."

I tangled our fingers, "I know you pretty well."

We kissed again and she whispered, "I love you, Bastian."

I put my hand on her face, "I love you, beautiful girl."

Emma found a watercolor of a window at Mont Saint Michel with purple flowers. I was told they were Wisteria. She negotiated the price, somehow paying more than he'd asked, telling him the extra was for the feelings it evoked. He rolled it into a thick cardboard tube that would travel well. He suggested unrolling it at the hotel until we were ready to travel.

Sunset was nearing. Our last in Paris. I'd researched this and knew the winding road to head down. The sunset against the buildings would open to a bigger view over the city. The area was crowded. I led her to a building to lean against. In the afterglow I picked up her hand, kissing it, "Do you want to play a game?"

Her eyes lit up, "A game. On our last night?"

"It will be perfect."

"What kind of game do you have in mind?"

"You seem tense. Like you could use a good massage." I shook my head, "Well, a mediocre massage but a happy ending."

I wasn’t sure if she was giving me the I love you smile or something dirty. Either worked. "Sounds fun."

I nodded, "Do you want me or a new massage therapist?"

"Neither. I want you, but neutral. Well placed kissed are good."

I nodded, "I got it."

"We're not sleeping tonight, are we?"

"Probably not."