#if you come knocking on my door know i do not banter (i will dump info on you)

[demonstars]

Dude I've been wanting to start randomly sending asks to ppl, but whenever I try I never get a reply LMAO I've dubbed myself Most Boring Asker Ever

Anyways,,, any particular songs that remind you of DNF?? The more niche the better tbh

anogie my one advice is to just keep sending stuff, this fandom is full of lurkers (My Own Past) so obviously a lot of people get a lot of asks and that doesn't mean anything about you !! keep being you :]

as for your question i am so happy to answer! i have a tendency to rant so i'll make my followers a favour and hide it under the read more lol

i've already linked dnf to shakira (not exactly niche, but her spanish songs aren't well known withing the english community, so) and to el cuarteto de nos (again, not exactly niche, but it makes do since i doubt any of the eng speakers here have listened to it and It Fits).

As for some i haven't spoken about yet ... perderme contigo de bacilos is so fucking sweet and very them coded, i'll translate a bit for you!! (min 1:42 sort of)

So many people want to speak, want to comment, and criticize But in the end no one else understands this madness By your side I can fly, I can go up, I can go down Eternal love is like the sweetest ice cream And I want to enjoy it slowly, while it lasts

idk i love lyrics that refer how their relationship is really only,,, for them yknow?? it's something that is very sweet to me

now that's one in spanish by a lowkey obscure group but umm as to one in english, i'd say i haven't seen enough people linking dnf to sudden by hayley williams, the lyrics are dnf esque i'd say (frienship/hesitance in presence of the other/marking...). ALSO CRYSTAL CLEAR. btw. (credits to bella for this one tho i just remembered her manifesto of petals for armor).

ok also while i was thinking about this sunlight by hozier also came to mind, i wanna write a little ficlet with a lyric title

[cherryyan49]

Pretty girl

an isaacwhy fic

she/her prns, uses of [name]

based on the song : pretty girl by highvyn

a/n: hi ! um I've never wrote fics before, so I would like to apologize in advance c: I was listening to this song and had an idea, so I attempted to write it <3 I've also never written x readers before so erm anyways! here's isaac being a simp

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

7:16 pm

The white numbers read on Isaac’s computer. He glanced around his room after dispersing from his friends a few minutes prior. Low music played from his speakers, filling the silence, as he scrolled through his instagram seeing your newest post. It was a little camera roll dump, consisting of images of you, plants and other random things that had some significance to you. He smiled to himself, pretty girl, he thought. Isaac would like to not admit to the fact that you have a lingering effect on him, constantly infecting his brain as if you were a zombie. But in fact, you’re not a zombie, you’re one of his closest friends, one of his pretty friends. A certain notification startled his trance,

‘hii !! would you like to come over for a small dinner, just me and you? I made some really good fajitas, and I don’t want to drive :T would you please ignore the mess <3’ –[initial]

He read your texts, come over– dinner– please ignore the mess. Immediately, he sent a response and grabbed his keys. The latter couldn’t pass up an opportunity to see you, let alone have dinner with you. Your text made him more giddy than just thinking about you.

｡･:*˚:✧｡

Isaac stood in front of your black apartment door, contemplating whether or not he should rip the bandaid off tonight. Normally, he wouldn’t even consider talking about these feelings to you ever. Especially not after all of his friends told him to do otherwise. He shook off his thoughts and knocked on your door. And there you were, the pretty girl, his close friend, asking him to dinner, standing right in front of him. Smiling, he followed you inside and towards her table. He couldn’t help but look around the girl’s place as if he hadn't seen it over a million times.

“What mess am I supposed to be ignoring here, [name]?” Isaac asked, carefully snooping around your mini dining room. His face softened, hearing you giggle;

“The kitchen is a wreck because I didn’t want to clean up for once. The rest of the place should be fine, but that’s why I invited you,” she teased back.

He playfully rolled his eyes, smiling at the way you smiled, gently grabbing his plate and handing it to him. Isaac admired the way you held yourself, even making a chicken fajita taco, he loved every single second of it. You turned to him, gesturing for him to make his plate, giggling once more

“You know I want someone to look at me the way you look at my lovely cooking.”

Isaac was taken aback for a moment, thinking he got himself caught staring at, uh your cooking? He made up a silly comment, defending that your cooking looks by far better than anything he’s seen at his house. The two of you bantered, with the occasional sharing of glances that made Isaac feel all giddy again. He just couldn’t explain it, you were like an angel who spawned right in front of him. You felt so close, yet so far from his grasp. He knew that you didn’t want him, he just knew. You guys had been friends for years, he didn’t want to lose you over some silly feelings. [Name] was going on about how her friends won’t leave her alone about her dating life, and the group. She was going on about multiple things, but Isaac had to confess,

“If I’m honest, I don't really like your friends. They’re obsessed. Not– not all of your friends, just the ones who struggle to listen to you when you’ve asked them many times,” his breath hitched, “That came out a little harsher than I intended.”

You looked away, thinking about what he said. He wasn’t all wrong, your friends weren’t the best when it came to these things, especially your best friend. Isaac quickly reached towards you, apologizing once more. His mind clouded with guilt, there was no way I just blew it again, he thought. 

“No, no you’re right, they are a bit obsessed with it, I just hate it. Like, talk to me about something else for once in a while, you know? I don’t want to talk about my feelings about someone all the time,” she said, giving Isaac a reassuring look.

“Yeah, I get it. It does seem frustrating having people act like lice in your hair,” he joked, getting [name] to laugh a bit. 

“Shut up,” she giggled. “Was the food good? I feel like I can talk to you for hours, sometimes I forget the main reason why I brought you here.”

Isaac giggled softly, “Yes the food was good. And I’m glad to say I guess have that impact on some people,” he began looking away, tossing his invisible long hair off his shoulder.

Isaac felt the hours go by after talking to you, getting lost into your words on the couch as it hits half past nine. He just never wanted to leave, which freaked him out at first. Him realizing that you really do have an effect on him, and he was scared. Isaac? Being scared? Yes. Nick had talked to him a few days prior about [name]; saying how you were hard to catch as you seemed to be rejecting people left and right. But Isaac knew deep down that the reasoning was because they didn’t fit you. They didn’t ‘complete’ you in the way you wanted to be completed, even despite being a more ‘independent’ type of girl. No one could really recognize it, until Isaac pointed it out. Hell, even Yumi called Isaac crazy for liking you, he understands why, but he can’t help but not be able to fathom the idea of liking one of his best friends.

After what felt like an eternity, Isaac grew some balls. Isaac brushed your hair out of your face, swiping through it gently, to fall off your shoulder. You looked at him, flushed but confused. He continued talking as if nothing ever happened, rambling about his newest video idea. [Name] sat there, still basking in what had just happened, completely wanting to ignore the slight butterflies the other had just given her.

“Woa, it’s so late, I guess I just have to stay over,” Isaac teased, carrying out his words. You rolled your eyes, “Oh nooooo, I guess you have to sleep on the couch while I sleep in my wonderful cozy bed,” she bantered, dramatically sighing. 

Isaac laughed softly, he couldn’t help but think to himself.  He thought he should just wait and explore his feelings, rather than explode them right here, right now. After all, this friendship was worth more to him than trying to complicate things for you.

[Name] looked at him, not wanting him to leave just yet despite it getting late. You could tell he was in his own world, taken over by his thoughts for a brief moment. As you smiled, you got up, offering your hand out.

“I say, we go to the gas station and get snacks, but I mean only if you want to,” she said, looking around.

“You could just tell me you wanna spend more time with me, I understand you know,” Isaac’s face scrunched in a teasingly manner as he continued, “But I guess we can do that, and maybe I could take you for a drive.”

“Oh be quiet, who wanted to stay here just a few minutes ago?” she rolled her eyes playfully. 

“And who wants me to stay here?” he pushes back, as he takes her hand and pulls her in for a moment. Isaac felt a rush of confidence wash over him, as he looks down at the girl. He leans down to her ear, smiling while whispering, 

“Last one to the car is paying.”

And he booked it. [Name] just stood there, eyes widened, realizing she might actually be insane. Her, liking HIM?? Or him possibly liking her?? Has your heart normally race around him? Or was that just now? You were in denial to say the least. You locked your door and ran after the tall one.

Thick silence filled the car as Isaac drove to the nearest gas station. The only noise that was heard was the faint singing in the radio, as [Name] looked out the window, replaying the actions from before. Parking, Isaac glanced over at you, basking in the way your face was highlighted in reds and purples from the neon signs in front of the store. He would be lying if he said his brain wasn’t getting drunk off the way you got out and waited at his door for him. You both went wandering into the store, grabbing multiple items, and Isaac insisted on paying.

After settling in the car, Isaac asked if you had anywhere to be tomorrow morning, gaining a ‘no’ in response. He nodded and proceeded to drive aimlessly. He didn’t have a set place on taking you, he just wanted to drive around the city, just to see your face light up from the way the buildings were lit. Isaac couldn’t help but smile to himself, seeing you sway around to the low music as he found an area to park and sit. Everything she did, every move, every word, every facial expression made Isaac swoon. Making a few jokes here n there, just to hear your laugh, and vice versa.

[Name] laid her head down on his shoulder, looking at the view of the city in front of her. She grabbed his hands, messing with his fingers as he giggled. Isaac’s phone vibrated, causing [name] to sit up and look around nervously.

“Who was it,” she asked curiously.

“Just some dumb tiktok link Larry sent me, I don’t think any of the guys know I’m here with you actually,” he replied. 

You slowly nodded, “Secretive I see.” Isaac laughed lowly, “Yes, but only because I jumped up so fast when I saw your message earlier.” 

She smiled to herself, sharing glances with him. Isaac knew better, but he couldn’t stop himself. He leaned in a bit, smiling softly causing [name] to look at him.

“This may be a mistake, but I really wanna make it,” he says inaudible as he glances at her lips to her eyes back to her lips. She kisses him. Isaac was taken a bit surprised, but he most definitely didn’t complain. Her hands cupped both of his cheeks, and she moved back to look at him, hands still placed. 

“You were pining too much, I was getting impatient,” she apologized. 

“Well sorry I wanted to be a gentleman,” he replied. 

“Okay gentleman, you’re not allowed to stay the night anymore,” she teased, removing her hands from the other, and moving back. 

“That’s not very nice to someone you just kissed,” he faked being hurt, putting his hand on his heart as if it got ripped out. 

“I don’t have to kiss you in order for you to stay the night, of course.” 

“Oh but you should,” he egged on. 

“I knew kissing you would make your ego implode,” she teased back, playfully rolling her eyes. Isaac kissed her this time, resulting in a very defeated whine from the other. 

“So I can stay the night again? Your couch is quite comfortable you know.” 

[Name] closed her eyes and sighed, “Sure you can stay the night. BUT just the couch, we can talk about this in the morning.” 

Isaac smiled, "Whatever pretty girl. "

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

a/n: hi again, I hope you enjoyed that and if you didn't, don't tell me :] I hope it wasn't tooo bad, as I literally never write so aaaaa, who knows maybe I'll write more often idk !

[tightjeansjavi]

Burning in Hopeless Dream

Boston QZ : Part 7 ‘illicit affairs’

A/N : this was such a fun chapter to write! A break from the angst, (for now) this also turned out to be WAY longer than I originally planned so y’all are getting fed, you’re welcome ☻

Summary: flirting tips with Joel Miller 101. Step one, wake your ass up at the crack of dawn, be smug about it. Step two, be a gentleman and present a thermos of shit QZ coffee to you. Step 3, teach you how to shoot. Step 4, do not allow the enemy to have the upper hand.

~word count : 4.3k~ (you heard that right)

Warnings: age gap (m/c is 28) flirty! asshole! Joel. Pining, teasing, lots of swearing, tension, banter, mentions of guns and knives. (+18) minors dni !

Songs for this chapter:

“illicit affairs” by Taylor Swift

“You Know I’m No Good” by Amy Winehouse

“Kiss With A Fist” by Florence + The Machine

_________________

November 2020 : 5 miles outside the Boston QZ

It was November now. The ground wasn’t quite frozen yet, but there was a chill in the air every morning. You could no longer hear the birds singing outside the window. Your body was slowly accustomed to the lack of vitamin D it was getting, just like how it did every year around this time. Knowing that the cold months of winter were on the horizon, only had you grow more restless. Your routine felt like a death march. Wake up, drink shit coffee. Shovel shit or dump bodies. Return home, drink, sleep and repeat. You couldn’t remember the last time you actually got a decent night's sleep. Your body was constantly exhausted. Your muscles were screaming at you but your brain was constantly running, like one of those stupid energizer bunny commercials from the past. You hated that stupid bunny.

It was early one morning. 4:00 A.M probably, but no one actually kept track of the time anymore. Your restless slumber was disturbed by your bedroom door slowly opening. You kept your knife tucked under your pillow constantly. The sound of your door creaking open was enough for you to grasp your knife to your chest before you shot up from under the coarse covers. You were absolutely ready to fuck up whoever was coming into your space.

A sense of relief mixed with annoyance washed over your features when you saw it was just Joel. His brooding height leaned against your doorframe was enough to make you roll your eyes. Did this man ever not look intimidating?

“Jesus fuck, Joel. You couldn’t have knocked? Given me some form of a warning?” You whispered while tucking your knife back under your pillow.

His expression was amused and even in the dark, you could tell this mother fucker was smirking.

“Sorry about that doll, you’re just a little too easy to sneak up on. You had me for a second there thinkin that you were gonna stick me. Would have been an awful fuckin start to my mornin.” He rasped, his voice was still thick with sleep and his hair was a fluffy mess on his head. Not that you were paying attention to those details. Damn him.

“Yeah, and for a split second I was thinking of sticking you. That’s why we knock. So you don’t end up with a knife buried in your chest, asshole.” You muttered the last part out as you swung your legs over the side of the bed and slowly stood up.

“Alright, smart ass. Next time I'll remember to knock.” He was still leaning against the door frame, arms crossed against his chest.

“Yeah, yeah sure you will. I’ll believe it when I see it.” You grabbed your hoodie from the floor and threw it on before attempting to fix the mess that was your bed head. Using a worn hair tie on your wrist, you pulled it into a ponytail.

“What kinda psycho is up at this early hour anyway?” You asked. Looking over at him as you pulled your hair back.

“The kinda psycho that I apparently am. It ain’t even that early.”

You scoffed then. “Pretty fuckin early to me. Now my real question is, what are you doing in my room at this hour?”

He shrugged then, clearing his throat as he spoke. “Well, couldn’t really sleep. Thought about how I promised you that I’d teach ya how to properly shoot. Figured there's no time like the present.”

“Huh. So that was your first thought that came to mind when you couldn’t sleep?”

“Guess so. Anyway, ‘nough of the chit chat. Get your shoes and coat and grab the gun I gave you.” His tone was not a suggestion. It was a demand and frankly, it was too early to be dealing with his bullshit.

“Sir yes sir.” You mocked his tone then, giving him a sarcastic solute.

“You're hilarious doll, really. Drop the smart act. We don’t have time for that shit today.” He turned on his heel then, leaving your open doorway and walked down the hall.

Your immediate reaction was to flip him off, naturally. Grumbling to yourself you grabbed your backpack, your gun and your knife and threw on your boots. The last thing you grabbed was your thick coat. You could already feel the cold air nipping at your skin.

Joel was waiting for you outside the apartment door. He had a travel thermos for you, filled with coffee. The familiar smell hit your senses immediately and you appreciated the small gesture. Closing the door behind you, you grabbed the thermos from him before taking a sip, letting the warm liquid seep into you. The QZ coffee was shit but it got the job done.

“Thanks. Wouldn’t survive the morning without this stuff.”

He looked at you for a moment then before he took a sip of his own.

“Oh trust me, I know. You’d be intolerable without this shit.”

You gave him a light punch to the shoulder then, it was a playful one.

“Yeah and you’re still a grumpy asshole with or without it.” You brushed past him then, quietly heading down the stairs. You could hear him mutter under his breath about your comment and you grinned to yourself as his footsteps followed yours.

Once you were both outside the apartment, Joel instinctively walked ahead of you. Always feeling like he needed to protect you. It was in his nature. You took the back alleys together, ducking in dark corners as you moved silently. There would only be a handful of Fedra soldiers out at this hour, but it still wasn’t worth the risk of getting caught.

________

The sun was just beginning to peek in the horizon as you neared the hole in the perimeter fence. Your coffee had gone cold at this point. Joel had stood over you, pulling back the torn fence so you could slip through first. He waited, looking around for any signs of movement and when he deemed it was safe, he slipped through the fence without another glance.

The silence between you was comfortable as you walked towards the nearby woods. It was a 5 mile walk to the deepest part of the woods. No one would find either of you there and in a sense, it was peaceful. You had shared a bit of jerky during the walk. It wasn’t much for breakfast but it would have to do. You’d kill for some proper eggs and bacon. Maybe in another universe, you thought.

Joel had wrapped up what was left of the jerky and stuffed it back into his coat pocket. You were surrounded by tall evergreens on every side. They were lightly dusted with freshly fallen snow. The scenery was beautiful, and eerie at the same time.

“You sure no one's gonna find us out here?”

“Nope. Been comin out here for years with no problems. You’ve got nothin to worry about, doll. Trust me.”

Letting out a sigh then you set your bag down on a nearby stump along with your now empty thermos.

“Alright, fine. I trust you but if a clicker comes out of those trees..”

He chuckled then, shaking his head slightly as he finished off what was left of his coffee.

“We’re in the middle of the fuckin woods. Most we’ll see out here is a few deer. No clickers. You’re safe.” His reassurance that you were in fact safe out here was enough for you to un tense your shoulders slightly. You’d always be on alert though. You didn’t have much of a choice; not in this world.

He continued then, setting his bag down next to yours.

“You brought the gun, right?”

“You think I'd come all this way with you, just to not bring the gun with me?” You smirked slightly, unzipping your bag and pulled out the revolver.

“What did I say about ditchin that fuckin smart mouth of yours huh?” His eyebrow was raised and his jaw was clenched slightly as he looked at you.

“Oh shit man, I’m terribly sorry. You see, my smart fuckin mouth is kinda a part of me. It’s permanent. Meaning, it’s not going anywhere.”

“No fuckin shit, sherlock. I know what permanent means.”

It was your turn to smirk now. It was easy to fall into banter with him and you secretly, but not-so secretly enjoyed it.

“Mhm. I was just checkin.”

He let out a huff then. You were insufferable sometimes but he liked the fact that you could keep up with him. In fact, he enjoyed these moments with you. It made him feel all the more human. You were that constant breath of fresh air for him. Better than any liquor, or opioid he could get his hands on.

“Alright. Enough of that. You remember the grip I showed you the last time?” He asked.

“Sure do. You were pretty serious about it, if I remember correctly.”

“Good. Now show me so that I know that you ain’t bluffing.” He had his arms crossed over his chest again, waiting for you to confirm that you weren’t faking it.

You held the gun outwards with both hands. Your grip was firm but from his angle, you looked a bit stiff. “See? I’m a good listener after all.”

“Relax your arms. You’re fuckin stiff and when that kicks-back its gonna go right into your face. What did I say about–”

You cut him off then. “Thumb over my thumb, left hand squeezes down on the right.” You looked over at him then, your eyebrow raised almost as if you were challenging him.

“You gonna do the teachin here or am I?” He walked over to you then, coming up alongside you before he reached out and grabbed your arms, the fast movement caused you to stiffen more.

His lips were at the shell of your ear now and his hands were gentle. “Relax.” He whispered. “Just relax, Gwen. You’re stiffer than a fuckin board right now.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine from his lips nearly touching the thin skin on your ear. For a moment, the close proximity of his body to yours had your head spinning. ‘Focus, Gwen.’ you told yourself in your head. ‘Get your fuckin shit together.’ You relaxed your shoulders slightly, allowing him to push your arms down so that there was a slight bend. His hands were on yours then, rough skin on soft. He adjusted your grip slightly then before he moved his hands off of yours. Just when you thought you were out of the woods, you felt his hands on your waist and despite the biting cold, your skin was on fire from his touch.

“Straighten your back a bit. Yeah, just like that. Good girl.” You could feel his smirk against your ear. This motherfucker knew exactly what he was doing.

You straightened your posture then and waited for his hands to move from your sides but they didn’t.

“Are you fuckin tryin to distract me right now Miller?”

“Nope. I don’t have to try and do that. You just allow me to get in your head.”

You took a deep breath then, cocking your neck to the side slightly as you bit down on your growing frustration. Did he really have to be this close to you?

“Shut up.”

He moved your legs a few steps to the right with his knees and the movement caught you by surprise. You felt like fucking bambi on ice with how easy he was able to maneuver you. It sent brief flashbacks from how he effortlessly threw you on your bed not that long ago. ‘Focus Gwen.’

Joel knew exactly what he was doing. Toying with you was easy and although he knew he was crossing into some dangerous territory, he couldn’t help it. He was drawn to you like a moth to a flame. He liked that he had this effect on you, up until his own brain was screaming at him to focus and get his own shit together.

He moved his hands from your waist then, letting his fingertips drag against the outer layer of your coat before he took a step back, allowing you to feel like you could breathe again.

“Now, you see that tree over there? There's a bare spot right in the middle of it. Think you’re good enough to hit it?”

Your eyes shifted to the tree he was focused on, zoning in on your target.

“Yeah, sure. Easy peasy.”

“Alright, rookie. Need you to take a deep breath in. Squeeze the trigger, not all the way. Breathe out and release.”

You listened to his words then. Taking a deep breath in, you lightly applied pressure to the trigger. Not enough to set it off. When you released your breath, you pressed down all the way and listened to the deafening crack of the bullet being released. You were feeling cocky and expected to hit your target on the first try. Instead, the bullet had whizzed past the target and into some nearby evergreens. missed.

You were silently simmering in your humility and Joel was going to take full opportunity to pick on you for it.

“What was that you said just now? Somethin easy peasy?”

Your jaw clenched then as you bit down on your vile words.

“Alright, big shot. Why don’t you show me how it’s properly done then?” You handed the revolver off to him then, standing off to the side.

“Alright, but you’re just askin for humiliation on yourself doll.”

“Just shut the fuck up and hit the fucking tree, Joel.”

“Feisty. Shoulda gotten you more coffee.” He mused before gripping the gun, just like he showed you. His movements were far more natural than yours. It was all muscle memory at this point for him. A second later and another crack. Joel’s bullet landed right in the middle of the target, sending shards of bark flying into the untouched snow.

He turned to you then, an undeniable smirk on his face as he handed you the gun back, leaning in slightly as he spoke.

“Easy Peasy.” his tone was cocky and it sent your blood boiling.

You were left speechless.

For the next hour, Joel had you practice hitting the target. He didn’t care that you were wasting precious ammo. If you were going to go on smuggling runs with him and Tess, you were going to need to use a weapon outside of your knife. The last thing he wanted was for you to get injured just because you weren’t comfortable with firearms.

“Alright, doll. One more time and then we’ll move on. You’re almost there just need to think about not being so stiff and breathe, for fuck sakes. The enemy is gonna lay one on you before you even have the chance to pull the trigger.”

He was sitting on the stump then, chewing on another piece of jerky as he watched you.

You were determined to hit this fucking tree. You had to prove to yourself that you could do this. All you wanted was to get in on the action. Fuck up some infected and feel like you actually held a purpose in Joel’s life. You listened to every word he said. Remembering to loosen up and breathe. Eye on the target, ‘breathe.’

You took a deep breath, pressing down on the trigger lightly and on the exhale, you released it. Listening to the crack of the bullet as you watched it soar through the air, smacking into the chipped away bark. You had finally hit your target. A sense of pride and relief washed over you in that moment as you turned towards Joel.

“Atta girl.” His lips were upturned slightly as he looked at you.

You gave him a little playful bow then, your boots crunching in the snow as you walked over to the stump he was sitting on and plopped down beside him, nearly pushing his broad form in the snow.

Joel gave you a disapproving look, his eyes lowered as he grumbled. “You really can be fuckin intolerable when you wanna be, doll.”

“I know.” There was a sense of smugness in your voice. It just naturally came out when it was just you and Joel. “Anyway, you kept your promise to teach me how to shoot and now I will do the honors in teaching you how to properly wield a knife.”

“You think for a second I don’t know how to use a knife?” His eyebrow was raised in your direction.

“Oh I don’t doubt that you can use one. The real question is, how good are you really?”

“Guess we’re about to find out.” He offered you the last bit of jerky before he slowly stood up, pulling his combat knife out of his bag, flipping it a couple times in his hand.

You had a feeling that in the next few minutes, you would be forced to eat your words.

Joel loved to see you in your natural element. Right off the bat he observed that you were far more confident with a blade in your grasp. Your posture significantly changed, hell, your entire demeanor had gone and done a complete 180, right before his very eyes. He wanted to see what you were made of. Were you as lethal as you made yourself out to be? How many people had you killed to survive? He wondered.

Joel was far too focused on you to even hear your instructions. He was off in a completely fucking different universe and it was all your fault. You had taken notice when he didn’t respond right away and you rolled your eyes, feeling slightly disrespected. To get his attention, you wasted no time to hurl your blade at the targeted tree. The tip of the blade was embedded in the same spot where Joel’s bullet had previously struck true. The sound of your blade hitting the bark, knocked him out of his trance and had him blinking a few times. Cursing under his breath but you couldn’t make out his words.

“Are you even fuckin listening to a word I just said man?” Your tone was sharp and full of annoyance. Shaking your head you walked over to the tree, the snow crunching beneath your boots and you grasped your blade, yanking it from the dry bark and walked back over to him.

“Zoned out for a minute there.”

“Wow, you don’t fuckin say. Pay attention, Joel. I’m not gonna repeat myself twice.”

His fingers flexed over his own knife. You really did have quite the mouth on you and for someone so petite, your words packed a solid punch. “Easy now, Doll.”

You gave him a look then. Your eyes boring into his for a moment and you both waited to see who would break the tension. You were challenging one another, silently. Who was the weaker one and who would hold their ground. Joel found your stare on him to be just the right amount of intimidating and he found himself casting his eyes away from yours, clearing his throat quietly.

You had won this round, for now.

“As I was saying..” You continued with your instructions and this time, he made damn well sure to listen. He found himself glancing at your lips as they moved. He couldn’t help himself, really. You were truly an enigma in his eyes. A mystery wrapped up with the biggest fucking attitude he had ever encountered.

You showed him the proper position. Where, and how he should stand. You adjusted his grip, made a comment about his posture being wrong. You were right there, invading his senses. Just the brush of your fingers across his covered arm was enough to have him sweating. You damn well knew what you were doing, you had to.

He watched you carefully then as if he was the prey and you were the predator. Oh, how the tables had turned.

“Breathe out nice and slow when you release it. Don’t fight against it either. The blade is a part of you, Joel.” Your tone was too soft for his liking, your breath could be felt against his cold cheek and he gritted his teeth together, his jaw clenching.

“Yeah alright, think I got it from here, doll.”

You smirked then knowing that you had gotten under his skin just the slightest. You rattled him. Taking a step back, you crossed your arms over your chest, giving him a slight nod.

Joel focused back on his target, zoning in on it and like the mother fucker he was, he threw his knife like he had done this 1000 times as well. Joel knew what he was doing but having you think you were teaching him, was the highlight of his day. The tip of his blade struck the chipped away bark with a thud and he looked over at you, smugly.

“You mother fucker.”

“Easy peasy.” He quipped back.

“I can’t believe you right now. What is there that you can’t fucking do?”

“Hmm.” He thought for a moment wanting you to believe he was bluffing. “Can’t think of anythin. Guess I’m just that good, huh?”

“You’re un-fucking believeable Miller.”

“Oh, I know. I absolutely am.”

_______

Joel had decided to teach you a few combat moves. He wanted to get back at you for rattling him and this was the perfect opportunity. He didn’t think about how you were far quicker than him. You blocked his punches easily and you hit back twice as hard. Now it was easy for him to believe that you were lethal, without a doubt. You could tell he was beginning to tire by his staggered breaths, his knees were for sure going to give out soon, his punches at you were becoming un-calculated and sloppy.

Bingo.

Joel felt his legs getting kicked out underneath him before he had the chance to catch himself. His back hit the snow with a soft thud. He hadn’t even had the chance to pull himself up before you were on top of him, pinning him down with your weight. The tip of your blade was held dangerously close to the artery in his neck and his wrists were pinned above his head. How the hell did he end up here? He had no clue.

You leaned down towards him then, hair falling around your face and you had that wild look in your eye. Something about you in that moment was so feral. So lethal. He could feel the blood pounding in his ears from the close proximity. You had this man absolutely fucking stunned, and at your mercy.

“Do you yield?” There was a playful edge to your tone. You were enjoying this, getting back at him for all the times he got under your skin.

Joel let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. He looked up at you, taking notice of the flush in your cheeks, from the cold most likely but maybe, also from him. He took notice of how close your blade was to his throat. Your other hand holding down his wrists and your thighs pressing down on his hips.

He didn’t respond. He instead took charge of the situation again, having no trouble freeing his wrists from your hold and pushing his weight against you. Your knife was yanked from your grip in a flash and tossed into the snow. He had you pinned beneath him now. His body was looming over yours, his breath heavy and he had your wrists pinned on either side of your head. Your legs were trapped between his and you couldn’t even move if you tried.

He leaned down then, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke. “You hesitated, doll. Now you’re dead. You can never let the enemy have the upper hand.”

Joel had you at his mercy now and he watched as your chest rose and fell. Your breath came out in sharp puffs. “You’re a fucking dick Miller. Fuck you.”

He chuckled then enjoying the fact that despite you and him both knowing that this little game was over, you were still resilient, still feisty and absolutely too stubborn to admit defeat.

“That mouth of yours is gonna get you killed one day Gwen.”

You scoffed. Twisting your wrists in his firm grasp to see if there was any chance of freeing them but he had you good.

“It’s gonna do a hell of a lot more than just get me killed, Miller.”

He was silent then, staring down at you like you were a caged animal, and he was the spectator. You both seemed to be waiting for the other to speak. To do anything. He thought about kissing you. Your lips were so close he could nearly taste them. An illicit affair in the snow, now that would be something.

The weight of his body on yours was no longer present. Your wrists were freed and you finally felt like you could breathe again as you quickly sat up, reaching for your knife and tucked it back into the holster around your hips. Joel had outstretched his hand for you and you grabbed it as he hauled you up from the snow.

You were both silent as you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder. Time had passed and the sky was beginning to grow dark. You had been out there for hours. On the way back to the QZ, you both had stolen glances. The tension was thick but neither party tried to cut through it. Some words were better left unspoken. You both had felt it though. The gravitational pull towards one another. After today, it was undeniably there.

Neither you, nor Joel had won this round.

CHAPTER 8:

[clarepreed]

Not for the Faint of Heart, Pt. 1

Story Summary and Content - 3,473 words. Larissa has long term side effects from her multiple hypoxic injuries. Explicit sex, seizure, drowning, on-site resuscitation.

__

Six months after the events of Hostile Work Environment

Larissa

“Alright, then, if there aren’t any more questions, I’m going to let Mark wrap up.” This was code. She’d texted him near the end of the presentation to tell him she was feeling off, and he slipped in no more than two minutes later.

She smiled at the group, ignoring Mark’s openly concerned look, and excused herself. As she made her way out through the back exit of the conference room, she kept her head held high, moving at a reasonable pace. They could still see her; it wouldn’t do to collapse in the hall, or take off running.

Not that she thought she could run right now. She felt heat roar up her chest and neck and into her face. It was close. She could see the door she shared with Kieran up ahead. Her face started to tingle. She got the door open, took a couple of steps inside, and before she could get herself down onto the floor, her brain took over, fading everything to black as it dumped her body on the carpet.

Mitchell

Most of the C-level employees were in his office, drinking coffee and discussing what needed to go on the agenda for an upcoming work session. Mitchell sat on the corner of his desk, listening to them talk.

“Well,” Cherise said. “I should definitely go before Dennis. We all know Finance is his favorite part.”

Everyone laughed and Dennis rolled his eyes. They continued to banter, and Mitchell saw his door open just wide enough for Liam to slip in.

This wasn’t unusual; his assistant had carte blanche to do so if he determined it was necessary. What was unusual was the look on his face. The younger man looked worried, and he urgently motioned for Mitchell to come to the door.

This was also unusual; Mitchell stood, murmured: “Excuse me,” and hurried to meet his assistant.

Liam waved him out of Mitchell’s office and into his own, then pulled the door closed and said: “You need to go to Kieran’s office, Larissa fainted.”

“Is she okay?” Mitchell asked, already headed that direction. 

They exited into the hall together, and Liam continued: “Kieran was really worked up, so I came to get you instead of just checking on her myself.”

“You did the right thing,” Mitchell said, jogging the last few meters down to Kieran and Larissa’s office suite. He opened the door without knocking, and was confronted with the sight of Larissa sprawled gracelessly on the carpet, her hair fanned out around her head and her skin and lips the color of sour milk. Kieran hovered over her, the much younger woman looking like she was about to have a panic attack.

“Woah, shit,” he heard Liam say. “Should I—”

“Larissa!” Mitchell called out sharply, dropping to his knees next to her. He cupped her cheek and was about to check to see if she was breathing when she stirred, her limbs flinching and her eyelids fluttering. “Hey, Larissa, open your eyes.”

“She did that two or three times right before you walked in,” Kieran sniffled. “But then she didn’t wake up!”

“Larissa!”

She made a groaning noise and then her eyes opened, staring up at him in incomprehension while she blinked and took a deep breath. She frowned, and then she said: “Mitchell?”

He wanted to say something silly, like: Last time I checked, or Were you expecting your other boyfriend?, but he just couldn’t muster his sense of humor. Instead, he kept his hand on her face and then reached down and found hers with the other, squeezing. “Hey, are you okay?”

Someone knocked on the door, and Liam cracked it open to see who it was.

“I was in a meeting,” she murmured, looking confused. 

“It’s Mark,” Liam said. 

“Go out and let him know she’s okay, I don’t want more people crowding in here. Then go make excuses for me in my office,” Mitchell requested.

“Of course, got it. Feel better, Larissa,” Liam said before closing the door. 

“What happened?” Larissa whispered, her eyelids fluttering even as her eyes roved around the room.

Kieran had stopped sniffling, and she looked over at Mitchell. “She seems really out of it this time.”

“Agreed. Clear her schedule for the rest of the day, and one of us will let you know about tomorrow.” 

“Of course, sir,” she said, climbing to her feet.

“And thank you for being so caring, Kieran. I appreciate it.” He looked down at Larissa, trying to decide if she could stand long enough for him to get her to the sofa in her office. 

“What happened?” Larissa asked again, her voice thick. “Mitchell?”

“You fainted,” he said. “In front of Kieran’s desk.”

“I finished the meeting,” she muttered, frowning. “I texted Mark, and let him say the goodbyes, and came down here. I wasn’t feeling right…”

He could see that her color was already improving; lips and cheeks pinking up. To his dismay, however, he saw tears well in her eyes.

“Would it be okay if I sat you up?” Mitchell asked, stroking her cheek. “I’m thinking you might be more comfortable on the sofa in your office, but let’s start with sitting up, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, nodding. He took his hand off her cheek and slipped it under her shoulders, lifting her upright. Her hair was mussed, fluffed up in the back like they’d been doing something much more pleasant. He smoothed it down for her and then leaned in to kiss her temple.

“How’s that?”

“Fine, actually. I don’t feel too bad.” She scrubbed her hand across her face and then said: “I could probably stand, if we’re just going into my office.”

He looked her over, decided she didn’t look any worse, and nodded. “Okay. On three? One, two, three…” He pulled her to her feet and wrapped an arm around her waist, letting her lean on him as they walked. He pushed the door closed behind them and sat her down on the sofa, dropping down beside her.

Larissa sagged against him, sighing. “I’m really tired.”

“I can tell.” He reached over and stroked her hair. “Do I need to take you to the hospital?”

“No,” she said. He felt her shake her head. “I might need a nap, though.”

“Would you like to lay down here for a while before I take you home, or do you want me to take you straight home?”

“Here, please. Then I can muster a public appearance for the staff on my way out the door.”

“Alright.” He helped her lay back, slipped off her shoes. He pulled the afghan off the end of the sofa and tucked her in, leaning over to give her a quick kiss. Even though she looked a lot better, he could still feel tension across his shoulders and the pounding of his heart in his chest. He took in her face and then said, clearly: “I love you.”

“Oh,” she said, her tired eyes going wide. “We haven’t said that before.”

“I know, I just—”

“I love you, too.” She pulled his head down for another kiss.

A few moments later, she was asleep. Mitchell sat in her desk chair, watching her doze, not quite able to shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Larissa, three months later

“How are you?” Mitchell asked, his arm brushing hers as they hiked up the trail.

“I’m good.” She chose, early on, not to be irritated by reasonable and solicitous questions such as these. He genuinely cared, and she genuinely needed him to care. She reached over and squeezed his arm.

“If you get too hot or something, just let me know. I can’t always tell just by looking at you.”

“I know,” she said. “It’s been a while, though. I’m just crossing my fingers that it never happens during a presentation.”

“I guess right after doesn’t count?”

“No, not since my client had no idea it even happened.”

“Ah, I see.”

She slipped her arm around his. “I am sorry. I was okay, I just needed a minute. Well, an afternoon. And it hasn’t happened since.”

“I know you were okay,” he said, his voice quiet. “But I wasn’t.”

She pulled him to a stop. She’d noticed recently that his hair had started to turn grey, at his temples and the outer edges of his eyebrows, and wondered if that was her fault.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, reaching up to caress his face. “I didn’t mean to ignore your feelings.”

He leaned over and kissed her forehead, then her lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

They continued up the trail, chatting about everything except for her health, much to her relief.

“I expected more people to be here,” she said. “Though I’m glad there’s not. I suppose it’s because it’s a weekday.”

She opened her water bottle and took a long swig. She thought they were nearing the top; the plan was to see the top of the trail’s small waterfall and then hike back down and go for a swim in the pools at the bottom. She was enjoying the fresh air and the exertion; any chance to feel alive.

They hiked the last stretch hand-in-hand, neither bothered by sweaty palms. As they climbed the steps to the observation deck, the air grew cool and moist.

“Oh, that’s nice,” she murmured, leaning against the rail and turning her face toward the spray. She felt Mitchell lean in and kiss the back of her neck. “That’s nice, too.”

She closed her eyes and tipped her head back. He kissed her, his arms going around her body. Then he kissed down the side of her neck.

“I’m all sweaty,” she murmured.

“Mmm.” He nibbled on her ear.

“You’re going to get me all wound up and it’ll be hours before you can do anything about it.”

One of his hands ran down the front of her body and cupped her through her shorts. “There’s no one around.” She felt his tongue behind her ear.

He wasn’t wrong. They hadn’t seen anyone all morning. She leaned back against him and rolled her hips. He dropped the day pack he was carrying and turned her in his arms, his mouth hungry against her lips. His hands were everywhere, caressing the sides of her breasts through her top, grabbing her ass, tugging on her ponytail. She opened her mouth so he could plunder it with his tongue, ran her hands underneath his shirt.

He grasped her ass and lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around him. He walked them toward the far side of the deck, into the corner tucked behind a rocky outcropping. Mitchell sat her down on the deck and pressed her back against the rock, reaching between them to unbutton her shorts.

She felt his hand slide inside her shorts and bathing suit bottoms, his fingers lightly tracing her folds to test her readiness. Then he broke the kiss and lowered himself to his knees, his hands pulling her shorts and suit bottoms down to her ankles. She stepped out of them, leaving her bottom half exposed to the sunshine.

He placed his hands on her inner thighs and encouraged her to widen her stance before he leaned close and put his mouth on her, licking her clit with the flat of his tongue. She flinched and drew in a deep breath, tipping her head back against the rock.

He licked her with several long strokes before fastening his lips over her clit and sucking. Two fingers slid inside her and curled, pumping in and out. She moaned and leaned back against the rock.

After a few moments, once she was panting and writhing against his hand, he withdrew his fingers.

She watched him strip off his shirt and lay it on the decking, then he pulled her down, his mouth seeking hers. She spread her legs wide as he laid down on top of her. He didn’t bother removing his shorts; he pulled his erection free and then slid himself inside of her.

They didn’t last long. Larissa wrapped her legs around him and met him thrust for thrust, moaning each time he bottomed out. He slid his hand between them, circled her clit with his thumb. She felt herself tighten, the pleasure coiling inside her almost painful in intensity. Then her back arched off the deck and she cried out, her muscles clenching hard around him. A few seconds later, she heard him groan and felt him pulsate inside of her.

They laid there for a moment until he stirred, kissed her, and helped her to her feet, a broad smile on his face. She pulled on her suit bottoms and shorts, grinning back at him as he pulled his shirt over his head.

“Ready for a swim?” he asked, retrieving his pack and reaching for her hand.

She took a deep breath, relishing the fresh smell of the air and the well-used feeling between her thighs. She could feel him leaking out of her as she walked.

The trail for the swimming hole branched out from the main trail, quickly descending toward the water. By the time they got to the flat rock along the edge, they were racing to take off their clothes and shoes. Mitchell won, stripping down to his swimming trunks and creating a big splash as he jumped in. Larissa approached the edge of the rock in her two-piece and stood there for several seconds to give him time to appreciate the view before she jumped in after him.

The water was significantly cooler than the air temperature. She popped back above the surface, sweeping water out of her eyes and grinning. “God, this water feels good!”

They spent a while splashing each other and swimming around. After a while, she clung to a rock, idly treading water with her feet. “How deep is this, do you know?”

“I read that sign outside the bathrooms when we got here,” he said. “It’s almost 12 feet deep.”

She watched as he climbed out and padded over to their pack. As he walked, she realized the air was filled with strange, little colored dots of light. She blinked her eyes and tightened her grip on the rock. Mitchel spoke, but she didn’t catch what he said.

Despite the cool water, a wave of heat rolled up from her navel and burned into her hairline. Her face began to tingle and the colorful lights bleached to white.

Dammit. “I need to get out,” she mumbled. There wasn’t a good spot to climb up from where she was. She released the rock, intending to swim back across, when she felt her body stiffen and a blackness descended over her consciousness.

Mitchell

Taking a swig from his water bottle, he reached into his pack, feeling for the small box stowed in one of the smaller pockets. He’d wait until they were out of the water; he’d wanted to propose at the top, but thought she’d be reluctant to wear the ring in the swimming hole.

“Are you thirsty?” he called out.

He couldn’t make out her response, so he zipped up his pack and turned to look.

He was just in time to see her push away from the rock. Then she went stiff, bowing back in the water as her eyes rolled back in her head. To his horror, she sank like a rock.

His water bottle hit the boulder with a clang, and he ran forward and jumped in after her. The cold water closed over his head and he opened his eyes, looking wildly around him. It took him longer than he wished to find her; she’d descended faster than he expected. She was ghost pale when he saw her, limbs jerking as though she’d regained consciousness and was trying to swim. He swam over and grasped her wrist, pulling her close and then heading for the surface.

He realized his mistake when they broke the surface; she wasn’t swimming, she was seizing. He wrapped his arm around her chest and tipped her head back against his shoulder, trying to keep her face above water while he swam with one arm to the lowest section of rock he could find.

Getting her out was difficult. Initially, she convulsed against him, throwing him off balance as he tried to haul her out of the water. Then she went limp.

He finally pulled himself out, keeping a grip on her upper arm, then dragged her out after him. Her body was limp, her head lolling. He was breathing hard as he cradled her head, lowering her to the flat surface of the rock. 

“Larissa!” He tipped her head back and leaned his ear close to her mouth, resting his hand on her chest. He took a few steadying breaths to calm himself and held his own breath, waiting.

She wasn’t breathing, and when he pulled back, he could see that she was already going gray. He leaned over and pinched her nose, inhaling deep and pressing his mouth over hers to make a seal. Then he breathed into her.

He felt resistance, but her lungs inflated. Her chest rose under his hand, and fell when he broke the seal.

“Come on, baby…”

He pressed his lips to hers again. They felt cold, but he told himself it was due to the temperature of the water. Her chest fell, and he pressed his fingers to the pulse in her throat. His own heart was pounding so hard he couldn’t tell if what he felt was her pulse or his own. He was afraid to wait until he was sure.

“Don’t do this, Larissa!” He clasped his hands together and pressed them between her breasts, eyeballing the correct spot. Then he pushed down, hard. Her chest gave under his hands, her large breasts threatening to wobble out of the cups of her top. “One, two, three, four, five, six…”

He heard a deep gurgle from her lifeless body, and a small amount of water trickled out of her mouth. Her stomach was distended, made more evident by his compressions, which caused her soft abdomen to quake. “…twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, HELP!”

He finished the round of compressions and gave her a breath before he stretched back, snagging the strap of his pack and dragging it closer. Another breath, and then he dug his cell phone out. No service. 

Foam bubbled inexorably from her nose and mouth, pouring out onto the rock.

“Fuck!” He shoved his hands back between her breasts, pounding mercilessly, so hard her body made a rhythmic gagging sound and her head flopped to the side, a gush of water streaming from her mouth. “…ten, eleven, twelve...”

Preserve brain function until help arrives. But no help is coming. Jesus, please start breathing!

“…twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty!”

Another breath, and then he looked at her phone just in case, to no avail. More foam was welling up out of her nose and mouth. He forced another breath past it.

“HELP!” he shouted. Now, he regretted the lack of strangers on the trail. 

“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…” Her eyes were closed, her unresponsive body taking his assault hard. Every compression forced a wet gagging sound from between her lips. Another spurt of water escaped her mouth, sweeping away the foam. “Please, Larissa, please don’t die…”

He turned her face upright and sealed his mouth over hers, breathing for her. Then sucked in another breath and screamed: “HELP!”

Her limbs flinched, head rolling back to the side as her throat worked. Mitchell gasped and bent close, cupping her face in his hands. “Larissa! BREATHE!”

He stared at her for several seconds and then straightened her head and gently opened her airway. He gave her another two deep breaths, then reached down and pressed his hand hard into her abdomen. Her chest heaved and she started gagging, water and foam coming out of her nose and mouth. He rolled her onto her side, fingers grasping for her jaw so he could point her face toward the ground. She coughed up and vomited copious amounts of what appeared to be mostly water. He checked her mouth anyway, terrified that she would choke.

“Just breathe, Larissa. Breathe, baby!”

She seemed to retch and cough for a long time before her breath came regularly, chest heaving and lungs wheezing. He moved around so he could see her face. Her eyes were still closed, and her mouth hung open. He could see a fresh bruise forming between her breasts.

“Larissa, can you hear me?” He ran his thumb over her cheek. “Wake up, Larissa, please!”

She didn’t respond.

--

Part Two

[btsgotjams27]

All Grown Up ~ JJK | 15

✨ title: all grown up | series (completed) ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: R/18+ ~ minors dni ✨ genre/au: romance, fluff, angst, friends-to-lovers, humor, banter, smut, age gap, best friends little brother ✨ author's notes: I won't be updating this series on Tumblr. This fic is inspired by the k-drama, Something in the Rain. ✨ author's notes 2: okay, so i do plan on editing the rest of this series! i just don't know when it'll be done. ✨ can also read on AO3 or Wattpad

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] prev | next ✨ you deserve everything and more

✨ chapter fifteen ~ it'll never be the same | wc: 1.9k

A few weeks passed, and you hadn't spoken to him since he told you he was in love with you. He left voicemails and texts for a week until he realized that you weren’t responding. It cut you deeply seeing the multiple texts and messages he left, but they were always left on 'read.'

Jungkook sat at his work desk with an elbow propping up his chin as he mindlessly clicked through the presentation he was working on. He’d been like this since you stopped talking to him. He was unsure what to do or say to make you change your mind.

Jin walked past Jungkook’s office and then back when he noticed how tragic his friend looked. He softly knocked before opening the door. With no expression on Jungkook’s face, he peered at his friend and then back at his screen.

Jin took a seat in front of Jungkook's desk. “You've been so mopey for the past few weeks, and I can see that your pile of revisions for the new game hasn't been touched,” he pointed to the papers sitting on his desk. “What's going on?”

Jungkook plopped his head in between his arms on his desk, mumbling and groaning at Jin’s question. For a split second, he thought you were his. He almost fucking had you–so fucking close. He couldn’t stop thinking about the night he held you in his arms, slow dancing with you, about how sweet you smelled and how soft your hair was. And then going back to your place–your lips on him, your hands, how the two of you fit perfectly together.

“Let me guess. Girl problems?”

Jin’s question snapped him back to reality. He groaned again.

“Did she dump you?”

Another groan from the pained young man in front of him. Technically, you didn’t dump him because it stopped before it could even begin. If only he had confessed to you earlier, could it have worked out?

“Ah--I see.” Jin nodded along. “What can I do to help?”

Jungkook finally looked up. “Can you make me ten years older and unrelated to my sister?” A part of him was still upset at his sister. Why couldn’t she understand? And why was she so upset? If it were because Yuna thought Jungkook would hurt you, she’d be wrong because he only wanted to love and cherish you.

Jin softly chuckled, “I think I still have a wish left to grant. Let me see what I can do.”

“Hyung, I'm serious. What should I do? I left her a million voicemails and texts, but she hasn't responded.” It was starting to become borderline creepy if someone on the outside was looking in. Jungkook had no other choice but to keep trying to talk to you, to make you see the light, to see where he was coming from. There were many nights when he hastily grabbed his car keys, just wanting to show up at your place, begging and pleading for you to try and make it work–that with him by your side, you’d get through it together. He didn’t care what Yuna thought because she wasn’t his mother. She had no say in who he could and couldn’t date. That was his choice.

“I'm sorry, man...I don't know what to tell you. It's a hard situation.” Jin could see how smitten and head over heels Jungkook was for you. He’d been in love once or twice and completely understood.

Jungkook buried his head again in the same spot.

“Has Yuna said anything? How are things between them?”

He didn’t understand what the big deal was. Yes, you were his sister’s best friend, but he would never do anything to hurt you intentionally. All he wanted was one chance to see where you and he could go. But from the last conversation he had with you, maybe the talk between you and Yuna didn’t go over well.

“The last thing Yuna said to me was she couldn’t stop me from liking Y/n.” And he has never stopped liking you. You had been his crush for as long as he could remember. He only wanted you.

Your relationship with Yuna will never be the same again. There were still awkward interactions when you had to attend wedding festivities. Luckily, the presence of her other bridesmaids made it bearable.

It was the night of her and Namjoon's rehearsal dinner, and you were dreading having to see Jungkook in the flesh. You could only avoid him this past month because it was busy on set.

You were putting the finishing touches to the lavishly decorated farm tables. They were covered in gray speckled plates, matte black silverware, lined with an ivory linen table runner, and stemless vases filled with white daisies, Yuna's favorite. Everything looked perfect. It was how Yuna always imagined it would look. You guys would spend countless hours into the early morning talking about what you wanted for your weddings. You just didn't think you'd spend it estranged from her.

As you continued making sure everything was perfect, you saw Jungkook walking in with a short sleeve white polo and gray pants and sporting a new eyebrow piercing. He glanced at you before turning his attention to his sister. You could see him trying to get a glimpse of you as Yuna continued talking.

You hurried along to finish your task and move on to the next thing that needed to be done. Make sure the table is set. Check. Next, set up place cards. You were rummaging through Yuna's storage tote when you were interrupted.

"Where is it?" you quietly muttered, searching for the missing place cards.

"Are you looking for these?"

A voice behind you chimed in, presenting you with a stack of cards. You peered up to see Jungkook standing beside you. Why did he have to smell so good? And look so good too. He definitely wasn't going to go down without a fight, would he? One look at him, and you were absolutely melting.

You cleared your throat, "Oh--yeah, I am, thanks." Your hands were so shaky as you took the stack of cards and began double-checking the seating chart to ensure you were putting them in the correct spots. And Jungkook followed you like he normally loved to.

"So...how are you? I've tried calling a few times." He tried his best not to sound so desperate and lame because he had lost count of how many calls and texts were sent to you.

"I'm okay," your eyes focused on the task before you, "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry I've been busy with work. New tv show and all," you explained dryly.

"How…how are you?"

Miserable, he thought. Wished you would've spoken to him instead of avoiding the situation, but he knew you were in a tight spot with Yuna. "I've been okay too."

"I see you have a new piercing." You pointed at the two silver beads poking through his skin. He really was a menace, getting everything pierced and tattooed. You wouldn't be surprised if he were covered from head to toe in tattoos in a few years.

His eyes darted up to his piercing, lightly touching it. "Oh--yeah, this thing," he chuckled, "I did it on a whim."

"Sounds like you," you grinned, setting down the last place card.

"I miss that smile," he said, "I miss you."

That hurt more than you thought it would. Hearing him say that made your heart ache deeply in your chest. You peered at him, mouth opened, but nothing came out.

"Can we talk?" he interrupted your thought, but the clinking of a wine glass stole your attention.

"Everyone, dinner will be served in two minutes," Ari, Yuna's wedding planner, stated.

"Um, can we talk later? We're gonna start soon."

By the time he wanted to say something, you had already dashed off to your table. He sighed in defeat. He knew you were avoiding him, avoiding talking about your feelings for him.

You, along with the rest of the wedding party, sat at the front facing guests and family members. Yuna gently nudged you while Ari continued going over tonight's festivities.

"You have a speech prepared, right?" Yuna whispered, gritting through her teeth, smiling at the crowd.

Your eyes widened. "You want me to give a speech?" Even after everything the two of you had recently gone through, she still wanted you to say something nice about her and Namjoon?

"Of course I do, you're my best friend and maid of honor."

"But–"

"But what?" 

You were confused and stunned. "You've barely spoken to me these last few weeks."

"So, you're not going to then?" Yuna gave you her best puppy eyes.

"I mean I can," you said with reluctance. Right now, you didn't feel qualified as a good friend to give a speech. Yes, you knew her and Namjoon the best but considering she had been leaving you out in the cold these past few weeks, her indifference towards you was unclear. Did she love you or hate you?

"Shit--here's the mic," she whispered, then beamed a big smile looking out to the crowd.

Your eyes widened, and you took a big gulp as you received the microphone. Shit. You weren't ready. You didn't have anything prepared, but you stood up anyway as all eyes were on you.

“Hi, everyone. I'm Y/n, the maid of honor. I've been best friends with Yuna since we were kids. And I couldn't be more happy and excited for Yuna and Namjoon on this new journey. She is an amazing, smart, funny, beautiful, and loyal friend. Um, like all friendships, we've had our fair share of ups and downs, but I wouldn't trade her for anything else. I wouldn't be who I am today without her. And Namjoon, don't think I'll give her up so easily. *soft chuckle* I expect a permanent spot on your couch for many years. I've seen your love for each other grow and blossom so beautifully over these last few years, and I'm so glad to have known you two together and apart. You two inspire me to also search for a love like yours.”

You looked briefly at Jungkook as he was looking down at the table and fiddling with his thumbs. Yuna could see your eyes starting to become glazed over with tears. You were trying your best to keep it together, but he just looked so heartbroken.

“Um,” you chuckled, “Sorry. I'm trying so hard not to cry right now.”

Yuna took your hand and tenderly squeezed it.

You cleared your throat. “Okay--get yourself together, Y/n,” you muttered, but the mic picked up on it.

A peal of soft laughter filled the room as you continued.

“As I look out into this room, I see the faces of close family and friends, and I'm happy to know that you guys have such a great support system behind you and Namjoon. If you ever hurt Yuna, know that Jungkookie–”

He looked up as you called his name.

“…and I will be there to keep you in check. I love you both so much. Everyone, please raise your glass to toast Yuna and Namjoon. Congratulations, and I hope your life together will bring many years of love and laughter to each other and to everyone around you. Cheers.”

You looked at Jungkook and raised your glass to him, and he did the same. As much as this speech was supposed to be for Yuna and Namjoon, it also confirmed that you wanted to pursue Jeon Jungkook.

✨ previous chapter ~ we can't do this

✨ next chapter ~ you deserve everything and more

[wheelcr]

hiii how are you? can you talk more about finn in ur actress dr? like what does he do in his free time or what you usually do together? I'm sooo in love with him♡

-🧚

hii nonie! i'm doing good! a lil sleepy ngl but i'm fine. also!! i can totally understand why you're in love w bambi jdhdjd i am too </3

generally, i know finn listens to music a lot. everytime i go on discord his spotify status is always displaying some country or rock song from the 80's, even when we're together he always just has to have his earphones in or he goes like batshit and starts getting really anxious hshdn

he also likes to play basketball and skate! yes, he's tried to do both at the same time on several occasions. he once facetimed me to show off him and his roommate at a basketball court, tried to shoot a hoop from behind him and just completely embarrassed himself in front of me, i was screen recording and obv i posted it to twitter ( with his consent ofc )

i know that he's a huge music geek. he's always on his guitar, always mixing stuff on his little interface thingy which is too intimidating and complicated for me to even try and understand. most of the time when he leaves his laptop on when we hang out i just see like a music editor or like google docs w notes and lyrics open, sometimes it concerns me bc hello?? do you even sleep???

lesser known fact about finn, he loves window - shopping. whether it be online or like in malls in the city, i know from his mom that he's always looking at stuff but never buys anything

and when he's not doing any of those things he's either reading some vintage comic book or some teen romance / coming of age novel, writing movie plots and dumping his ideas in his little notebook, or playing whatever videogame is popular at the time

most of the time when we hang out it's with the rest of his friends, which, as you know, consists of a bunch of loud mf vloggers and content creators so we're just listening to them banter and do goofy stuff with their dry ass humor, often having the camera shoved in our face once or twice so they can get extra views

though during the times when it's me knocking at his apartment door at 12 in the morning, or like us hanging out on facetime or on discord, we actually just sit in silence, a super comfy silence

when we have the energy to go out and actually make plans with each other, it's mostly going to watch a movie in cinemas or just on his couch, or to the mall to try and beat every kid's ass at the arcade and bag ourselves a few new plushies, which he always ends up giving to me even though he won them fair n square

whenever we go to the mall we always always have to stop for frozen yogurt, it's literally a requirement for whenever we go out. we cannot go home unless we get frozen yogurt

i always end up with like a keepsake when i hang out with him. especially if i'm visiting him after months and months of being busy with our own projects, i always go home with like a new headband or a new plushie or a new keychain

finn's love languages are definitely touch and gift - giving. him randomly handing me something, even if it's like a cheap box of chocolate from the convenience store, it's like his own little way of going 'i missed you' and it makes me smile so fucking much it hurts

anyways— other than that we're normally just dancing like idiots in our room to taylor swift or some old music, or yelling each other's ear off trying to get mvp in call of duty, or filming stupid shorts that will either never get released to the public, or are posted on my personal tiktok account that only dedicated fans will find ksjsks

[fangirl-everythang]

Smoke Break C. T. H.

Summary: At Calums' party he leaves for a smoke, y/n joining him later on. Some rando pukes on y/n leaving the two to get away. He maybe receives a gift.

Warnings: Swearing, Sex, Oral sex, smoking, mentions of alcohol.

Word Count: 3475

Calum's POV

Who the hell are these people? It's a party for me and I know no one here. Fucking great, Oh yeah mate, trust me it's gonna be HUGE. You'll love it. This is the last time I listen to Ashton. Do I look like I'm fucking having a great time?

We need to get him a girlfriend. They all tell me I need to settle but I'm known as the lone wolf it never works with the lifestyle we have. Well somehow Luke and Michael make it work but to me it's exhausting.

"Aye mate, having fun?" I turn to see dyed hair and I know it's Michael.

"It's fine." I huff as someone shouts happy birthday once more. I see Roy across the way with some chick and he shrugs at me. I would've just preferred to go see Mali but she's always busy now. I just look at Michael while taking a sip of the beer in my cup I've been on this one since this shit of a party started.

"It could be worse you know? You could-" He's interrupted by Crystal who leans up and whispers in his ear he nods and begins to grab her hand. "We're gonna head out she's not feeling well." He gives me a sympathetic smile. "Happy birthday." is all he says when they begin to leave the room. Welp, there goes another friend.

I haven't seen Ashton since the party started and Luke definitely is getting it in with Sierra right now. Literally, all over each other, it's truly disgusting if you asked me. Deciding to move away from this wall I head to the kitchen to throw this drink away, taste watered down because of the ice. Pushing through the moving bodies and the lights everywhere, I dump that shit in the sink. Ashton comes my way trailing a girl behind him, "There you are! Y/n showed up?" I see the hair of a girl just talking to someone who's just come behind her.

Y/n has been around us for a while. I don't know when but our friendship started after we met at a party. She was waiting for Arzylea to join her when we started talking. Next thing you know she was a part of our inner circle. Not gonna lie, She's my favorite person in the group. Everyone thought that when Arz and Luke broke up, she would leave too but she's still here. And she keeps that group chat very entertaining shall I say. We've hung out a few times, with her it's different though. I don't feel the need to be THE Calum Hood bass player for 5SOS, she knew of me but cared more for the person I was. She asked questions even though she knew the answers. I just felt relaxed with her. As more people entered the kitchen, I go to the back porch where I don't see anyone. There are too many people and I don't even want to think about how to clean this up. Pulling a cigarette from the pack I just let the smoke fill my lungs and slowly exhale while leaning against the siding of the house.

"You know that's an awfully bad habit you have Hood." The familiar voice speaks, forcing me to open my eyes.

I chuckle, "Why aren't you enjoying the party?" I ask her.

"Come on you know that's not my scene." I nod silently agreeing. She looks stunning, the way her dress hugs her body, she's so effortlessly flawless. Most girls have to go through a tribal ritual to look as amazing as her. "Stop that." she laughs.

I shake my head slightly to remember what I just did. "Sorry I-I didn't mean to um yeah fuck." I stumble for words she just nods. "It's okay.'' she looks down and fumbles with her hands. It's cute how she does that, almost like she doesn't know she's the most beautiful person in the room. A harsh gust of wind pushes past and she shivers. I look at her and open my arms with my jacket she rolls her eyes but gets closer. Holding the cigarette with my mouth to free my hands I just pull her closer until I feel the warmth of our bodies touch.

"Thanks" She mumbles against my chest. She looks up at me before pulling the cigarette between my lips, just as I'm about to protest she takes a puff. Watching her smoke is by far the hottest thing I've seen, and I've seen Luke naked.

"Oh look who's punkrock now?" I smirk at her as she brings the burning toxin to my lips. Her laugh. Sounds like fucking angels I can feel her chest moving through my shirt. "Can I be in the band now?" She raises an eyebrow.

Dropping the small bud I just laugh along with her. "hEYYY I'm serious" she wines.

"Sure you are." I smile at her.

"No offense Cal but your party blows." She looks at the lights jumping on the hardwood of the deck.

"It's more of Ashton's," I admit. One hell of a birthday. She wraps her arms around my waist and places her head on my chest. "Happy birthday Cal," she whispers.

"Thank you y/n." I can feel my pulse in my throat. Being with her makes me so comfortable but yet I feel like I'm on fire. She gets me like no one else could imagine. I place my chin on the top of her head and just hold her. I don't want this to end. "Did Ashton invite you?" curious to how she showed up. In the group chat she said she had plans this weekend. I was really disappointed because if it wasn't clear enough I like her a lot.

"Something like that." She reaches for her phone and scrolls through her text. "From Ashton at 6:58 am," she begins to read slightly pulling away to look at the screen between us. "Hey Y/n! know you're busy this weekend but that doesn't matter because Calum likes you and won't admit it but it would be cool as lemons if you could show up." I'm going to fucking kill him. I hope he likes his ashes being burnt with that fucking lemon tree. She smiles at me and I feel like I could evaporate right the fuck here. Oh Ashton. I will kill you. The door next to us opens and some random guy comes out drunk as hell. "Oh h-hey you three," His burp interrupts him, "It's a great party in thheere"

As he stumbles Y/n goes to keep him upright, but his body has other plans. The foul smell that comes from the vomit projecting on Y/n is awful. He apologizes but quickly goes back inside wiping his mouth on his shirt. "Are you okay?" I ask her equally as shocked. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment, I grab her hand without waiting for a response and drag her inside. After her many protest and looks from random people that can smell the bile on her, we make it to the stairs. There are too many fucking people here. Constantly pushing past bodies I know none of these bathrooms are cleared. I walk her down the hallway to my bedroom door when someone interrupts me. "Dude, I've been trying to get in there all night. It's locked. Complete dipshit of an owner right." He smirks reaching for a high five. I roll my eyes at his gesture and grab the key to open my door. His smirk fades into one of realization. He tries to apologize but I shut the door in his face after Y/n follows me inside.

I take off my shoes and she looks at me questioningly. "I have a bathroom in here you can use Y/n." as I relock my door. The last thing I need is for some stranger to come messing with my personal stuff.

"You shouldn't have-"

"Shut up. Some stranger just threw up on you. I would prefer to be in here with you than out there where I don't know anyone. Now go shower." She starts to argue but I just help shove her in the bathroom while closing the door. She knocks from the inside of the door, "Yes Y/n?" I smile at her playful banter.

"I need help. I can't reach the zipper" she says through the wooden door. I release the handle and nod. right she can't see me. Opening the door I walk in, "So your plan was to lock me in here?" She smiles looking through the mirror at me while moving her hair to one side of her shoulder.

"Not exactly, I was gonna kidnap you later." I grab the small zipper and begin to undo it. No wonder who the hell can hold this tiny thing. Once I get it down she thanks me. "Just throw it away okay?"

"But-" I stare at her and she agrees. Closing the door to let her shower. Clothes, she needs clothes. I walk into my closet and grab a t-shirt and her emergency bag. She came up with the idea since no one knows how to bring clothes anywhere we all have one outfit at everyone's place. Thanks to Michael she had to wear the outfit here, but her undergarments are still there.

I knock on the door and she's still in the shower so I leave the shirt and the bag on the counter in the steamy room. Walking out I take off the skinny jeans I'm wearing and change into sweats and a t-shirt.

So many options. Who ever came up with Netflix is a fucking genius. My phone buzzes next to me and I see Ashtons Name. A text, great!

From: Daddy 1:17 am

Bryana's here. Gonna go Catch up.

I just send him an 'Ok' because we all know they're still stuck on each other and there's no way in hell I'm going down there. About 20 minutes into big mouth Y/n walks out of the bathroom wearing the clothes I left for her. No one's ever looked that good in my shirt, shit I don't even look good in my shirt. "Thank you Calum" she quietly commented. "No problem." I pat the spot next to me and she climbs in the bed. I hit play on the tv remote as the show continues to play. I can't even focus on the hormone monster on the screen, this feels so fucking right. I feel her playing with my hand as she watches the screen intently. Her brow furrowing when she doesn't get the concept of Jay being a magician or the way her eyes crinkle when she laughs. I could literally just watch her all day. I mean I know she doesn't like me but I can't help but imagine what a relationship with her would be like. I don't want to jeopardize our friendship but this, this feels more important. It's just not fair I mean there's tour and I wouldn't want to be away from her that long if she were mine. I don't understand how she's single I mean look at her. And you don't find many girls with a personality like hers, she's so kind-hearted and the most humble person I know. When we were in Bali, everyone went to this pool resort and we thought she went missing for the day. But she returned home after visiting orphanages and helping at the village day clinic. I don't want to be selfish but I'll be damned if I let her go. I'm so thankful for that girlfriend of Luke's to bring her completely unbothered, outgoing, and amazing friend with her to that club in New York.

"Did you hear me?" The soft voice brings me from my thoughts. I look down at her "No what?" She starts laughing. I see a black screen on the wall and look at her quizzically. She raises her hands in defense "It's been off for the past 15 minutes." she shrugs. "You looked deep in thought." I just stay silent and look up at the ceiling. ''You can talk to me you know?" she whispers.

"Have you ever wanted something you can't have?" I ask. She chews on her bottom lip before responding.

"I suppose, I mean in regards to what?" but I cut her off, "Why'd you come tonight?"

"It's your birthday." she states clearly confused. "Ashton's text doesn't bother you?"

"I didn't think it would have to bother me?-"

"You had plans."

"You mean much more Cal." I let her words sink in. Did she like me the way I like her?or maybe she doesn't and I'm really hoping for something? No. This could never work. I don't do relationships.

"Do you wanna keep watching? " I ask her hoping she'll say yes.

"That was the last episode" she says as she turns to me a glimpse if hope in her eyes. "We can just talk Cal."

"I'm actually pretty tired." She nods, a small frown on her face as she goes and turns the light off. "Night Cal"

"Goodnight Y/n." I whisper before pulling her closer to me. I feel her muscles relax and soft snores escape her lips.

* * *

The sun in the room feels warm against my skin. Opening one eye I see the contract of the bright light against the walls. As I go to move the curtains I feel a warm presence next to me turn. Well, fuck me. Her shirt came up just the slightest to exposed her black lace panties to me and damn is it a sight. Look away. Look away. Look away.

Physically getting up from the bed she pouts and rubs her eyes. "Cal? " her slightly rasped voice speaks. "Yeah just closing the blinds. "

"Can you leave it just a tad. " she ask pulling the covers over her. "The soft light is nice. " I mean I can't say no. "Come here. " she demands and I get back in bed with her. "I should probably start cleaning soon. " I say as a line ass excited to leave the room. All I can picture is how good she looked in these panties and I need to take care of this soon.

"No you won't, since when have you cleaned? Plus I told you I'd help. " my dick is straining against these fucking briefs.

She softly traces random patterns into my skin as we just lay there admiring the room. "Cal" she mumbles.

"You've got an uh-problem. " the blood rushes to my cheeks as she notices my boner. "Sorry i-" I begin to excuse myself from the room hoping a black hole could appear. That would be great.

Surprisingly enough she pushes me to keep me in place. "It just occurred to me that I never got you a gift."

She runs her fingers over my manhood, "Can I make it up to you?"

"Y/n I don't think-" Oh fuck. My dick twitched at the sight of her removing my shirt leaving me speechless. The black lace that clung to her, which landed us in this situation, looked even better than before. "Um you -uh" I start mumbling trying not to look at her body for too long. I mean I could but I'd cum no question.

"It's either a yes or no?" as I was about to answer she started running her hand along the thin black lines. My eyes never leaving her hand as she teasingly rubbed her clit through the fabric. "You see Cal, I want you as much as you want me."

Fuck friendship. I replace her hand with my own to feel her. Fuck how long I've waited to do this. She pushes my hand away from her core while leaving open mouth kisses down my jaw. Licking my earlobe, she whispers, "You're the birthday boy."

She scoots further down the bed until her face is near my groin. This is a sight I could get used to. She slips her fingers in the band and starts pulling my briefs down. Her eyes light up once she sees my throbbing shaft. "You have such a pretty dick." Her thumb runs over my tip causing me to shudder and if possible made me harder. "Y/n you don't have to." My voice cracking a bit, why the fuck was I so nervous.

She rolls her eyes as she kisses my tip her tongue licking along the vein. She slowly begins taking me in her mouth, "Oh fuck y/n" I moan as she swallows around me, her hand pumping what she can't fit all the way. Her mouth is so warm and she's so fucking perfect. My head hits the headboard as my other hand laces itself in her curls as she bobbed her head along my length, letting every sound fall from my lips. Accidentally I pulled her hair which I was going to apologize for until she moaned. The vibrations that sexy ass sound I thrusted up. Fuck no I want to be in her.

"Y/n stop." She let her teeth graze my dick as she moved her mouth off of me. My stiffened member glowing with her saliva.

"I'm sorry this was a bad-" She started mumbling getting off the bed and fixing her hair.

"No!" I yelled surprised at my own tone. "I mean um you're great I just- I want to be in you." The redness on my cheeks very visible. She hesitates before sliding her panties off, "We don't have to I'm sorry I just thought that's where this was going and I-" She kisses me softly and I shut the hell up.

"Calm down, I was just thinking." She says straddling my lap removing her bra. "And before you ask what about well," she lines me with her entrance "It was whether I wanted a condom or not." Our moans are in unison as she slowly slides onto me. Feeling her tight walls stretch around me, her dripping arousal glistening in the soft lights of the sun. The whimper that came from her mouth as she takes all of me. "I'm on the pill and it's your birthday meaning you get the full experience." She says after a moment of her adjusting, sending a playful wink my way. She begins to move and I swear no one has ever felt this good. My hands find their way to her hips slowly rocking her back and forth.

"Fuck Cal" She whimpers as she begins to ride me. I move one of my guiding hands to find her sensitive nub, tracing small circles with the pad of my finger. She jerks back from the touch causing me to smirk, someone's sensitive. I place my thumb over her sensitive nub yet again rubbing back and forth eliciting a moan from her. “Cal I can’t-“ Grabbing her hair pulling her face closer to me, “ You can and you will, got it?” She whimpers nodding in agreement, “I’m not cumming till that pretty pussy of yours is pulsing.” Slowly grinding my hips up, grazing her g-spot with my tip. “Cal-fuck, this was supposed to be your gift.” Grabbing the back of her thigh slowly bringing her body closer to mine, I turn us so she’s underneath me.

“Go out with me and we’ll call it even yeah?” I ask her before continuing to thrust into her. Our moans fall in unison as I pick up the pace. Thrusting into her faster than the time before, the only sounds heard throughout are those of our moans and skin clapping together. My mouth finds its way to her neck, assaulting the soft skin in the area- leaving a reminder for this evening. I can feel her tightening around me, edging me close to my own release. “Cal I’m close.” She manages to mutter as I find my way back to her clit, rubbing fast purposeful circles. Watching the way her pants and moans fall through her lips to the glistening of her chest as it rises and falls with each breath. The sight being enough to drive me to the brink of insanity, “Cum for me y/n.” Almost instantly her eyes roll back as she arches her back, her pussy tightening without mercy forcing my own orgasm to appear. My hips jut forward as I release into her , slowly edging us both along. Our panting is the only thing to be heard as a gently collapse on top of her. “Did you mean it?” She ask, moving the hair from my forehead.

“If you mean me asking you out, yes.” She smiles and pulls my face closer to hers. “took you long enough.” She whispers before attaching her lips to mine.

A/N: (Also posted to Wattpad) I hope you enjoyed it. I'm actually really happy, I've been doing quite a bit of writing so yay! We have another calum smut blurb on the way.I also need help deciding who's the endgame for my Loki/Bucky love triangle but all with time. Anyways I hope you're all having a wonderful weekend!

XOXO Janelle

[seasonofthewicth]

nobody does it like you do - act 2

Thank you so much for all your reactions to part 1! I hope you enjoy part two just as much :)

CW: mentions of past minor character death (incl. a pregnant woman)

7.3k - masterlist - ao3

--

Her first day of shooting isn’t great. It’s not bad by a long way, but it could have easily been better. They’re on location in a forest somewhere in the outskirts of Rifthold and she didn’t even know there were places in the city like this, she’d assumed it was all the sprawling metropolis of skyscrapers and crowded streets, but apparently not.

She’s cold. There’s a machine beating down torrents of fake rain on her and Fenrys where they stand opposite each other on the muddy path through the trees, they’re filming the scene where their characters first meet. Her feet are soggy inside the canvas trainers she’s wearing and they keep spraying water on her hair to keep the wet look running throughout all of the takes and she hates it. She’s uncomfortable and stiff but she comforts herself with the knowledge that Fenrys is the same if the frown he wears whenever the camera isn’t on him is anything to go by.

It helps, barely.

She keeps having to spit water out of her mouth between lines, she swears it never rains this heavily in real life but who is she to comment, and she watches Rowan’s lips twist in displeasure where he sits behind the camera every time she does it. Aelin’s not sure what else she’s supposed to do, he can sit there out of the line of the water all fine, but she can’t speak with her mouth full.

It can take time to fall into the natural rhythm of shooting a new project, even the shitty ones she’s done in the past have shown her that, but there’s something about the way Rowan watches her that prickles the back of her neck, his stare intense and heavy as he watches, that adds the pressure. She wants to show him that she can do this. She wants his approval.

She ignores the reasons why.

After they finish and Rowan has called cut she sulks back to her trailer, she’s only just managed to change out of her sodden clothes when there’s a knock at the door. It’s Fenrys, warm and dry now in his own change of clothes.

They’ve sort of become friends recently, after swapping numbers after the table read he had texted her first. The studio has put him in the same complex as her and they’ve shared a car back there a couple of times after some of their meetings. She likes him a lot actually, and while she knows his reputation of infamy with the ladies follows him around like a bad smell, she feels comfortable with him.

“That could have gone better,” he tells her as he flops down onto the two-seater sofa at the end of her trailer, the other half has a mound of clothes dumped on it that she hasn’t bothered to sort through yet.

She just shoots him a look that she hopes says tell me about it.

“Tomorrow will be better,” he tells her, reassuringly. He would know she supposes, he has far more experience than her.

“I hope so.”

“How’re you finding it so far, working with Rowan?” he asks, and she frowns, bristling at the fact that he somehow knows the worst question to ask already. Aelin doesn’t think she’s behaved weirdly around Rowan since the day at the table read, in fact she’s tried to avoid him where possible. Maybe that’s it.

“Fine,” she says, but that’s not quite true. It messes with her in a dangerous way every time she knows he’s watching her. She should be able to turn that part of her brain off during a scene, she trained for years to learn how to do that, but he gets to her. She’s working on it.

Fenrys laughs, seeing right through her.

“He’s not bad once you get to know him, the first time we worked together I thought he was a total dick.” She gives him the same look as before as she clears the clothes and sits down next to him.

“I swear he’s not that bad. He’s just-” Fenrys pauses, weighing her up with a look, and something that he takes in from the way she stands, gnawing on her lower lip with her hair still wet, has him saying; “He’s got a lot riding on this.”

“Why?”

It doesn’t feel like he has a lot riding on this, his last piece was nominated for the Oscars, how much higher than that can you get? It’s not like he’s in the same position as her, desperately clawing herself back to a place where she can be cast in a role and it not be followed by a stunned, oh?

She knows there were articles written when her casting was announced that were doubtful of her ability to do this movie, that questioned whether she’s up to the task and whether she’s good enough to be standing next to names like Fenrys and Rowan. Some of the articles were straight up mean, and she only knows that because she searched them up like a masochist when all the ones Elide sent over were far too nice.

A dark part of herself can’t help but fall prey to some of the headlines. The ones that throw around words like nepotism, the ones that question whether Aelin is talented enough to be where she is cut deeper than any knife, and only half of it is because she sometimes wonders the same. She should be better than that, but the reminder catches in her throat that she really does have a lot riding on this.

“It’s not really my place to say.”

That’s a load of shit, and she tells him so. He only shrugs, not willing to so openly gossip about their boss.

“How well do you know him exactly?” She’s fishing for any details, but it definitely could be passed off as casual curiosity.

“He directed my debut, we keep in touch every so often.” He’s nonchalant. “He asked me to audition for this.”

“Nice humble brag.”

Fenrys only flashes her his movie star grin, in combination with the wink he throws at her it’s almost an effort not to blush.

“He wanted you cast, you know?” That she didn’t know, but it’s nice to hear.

“Why? He doesn’t know me.”

“You’re hard work, you know?” He’s joking but it doesn’t sit quite right. She knows it’s true. “Come with us tonight. There's a group of us getting dinner, and you can ask him yourself.”

It’s an olive branch. She knows it’s obvious to everyone that she’s uncomfortable, still hasn’t quite found her feet on set after taking such a break, and it’s one that she’s grateful for. No matter how closed off she knows she still seems to them.

“Okay,” she says and Fenrys’ smile is genuine and a part of her lifts, it’s a start.

They share a car to the restaurant and he fills the journey with easy chatter. She appreciates it because she feels really fucking rusty. It’s been a while since she spoke to anyone outside of her immediate circle of friends and family, and it’s always been easy with them. This is different, but not unwelcome.

Sometimes she worries that, as much as they love her, Aedion, Lysandra and Elide are inclined to tread lightly around her. She’d like to think that she’s not that fragile, that she could take the full front of their humour and teasing like she used to, but then remembers when Fenrys’ joke fell flat for her in the trailer and she thinks again.

Either way, the cast and crew here don’t treat her like she’s broken, or even breakable, and it’s refreshing.

Fenrys leads the way into the restaurant, and there’s definitely paparazzi down the street snapping away at them as they cross the short distance from the car to the door. She tries to ignore it, she’ll text Elide once they’re done here, even though Elide will probably be overjoyed. It’s probably (definitely) easier to publicise your talent when she’s out there doing things with other famous people compared to staying inside her home alone.

Fenrys greets the staff on the door and they lead them through the restaurant to a staircase at the back of the room and it leads up to a private space with only one table. Right, privacy. Some of these guys are proper celebrities.

They’re the last ones there, and there’s two seats left at the table. Manon is here, so is Rowan and one of the executive producers who she thinks is called Gavriel.

“Alright guys, you all know Aelin,” Fenrys says and she smiles as they greet her.

Fenrys holds a chair out for her, the one next to Rowan, and she slides into it as he takes the one on her other side.

Rowan offers her a quirk of his lips, one she returns as she takes him in. He’s wearing short sleeves this time and she gets a good look at the tattoo snaking the whole way down his left arm. It’s in the Old Language and she can’t read it, even though her father had spent hours trying to teach her when she was a kid, but the lettering is beautiful and neat. She wants to reach out and touch, to trace the lines that roll down his golden skin.

She doesn’t. Obviously.

A waiter comes over to take their drink orders, Fenrys gets a beer, Manon and Gavriel opt for wine, but Rowan asks for an orange juice. He’s not drinking either and she wonders if it’s related to the reason he needs this movie to go well. So she’s nosy? So what?

She sits back and observes as the conversation flows, laughing along at the easy banter that flows between the three men and the sarcastic quips Manon throws in. Fenrys clearly understated his relationship with Rowan, they seem tight and have a clear fondness for one another. It’s easy to slot herself in as the night progresses, snarking with Manon and joining in with the general light-hearted mockery of Fenrys.

She thinks maybe so far she’s got Rowan wrong.

Tonight he’s quick-witted and charming, and he makes his best effort to include her in the conversation which she appreciates. It’s a contrast to the dark and teasing side of him she’s seen so far in the hallway and the table read. Maybe he’s decided to just start again, pretend they never met before she was cast, and she can do that too.

“So, Aelin.” Manon turns the spotlight to her after a while. “Tell us the scoop. I’ve not seen you in anything for a while.”

It’s not a nasty question, Aelin can just tell from the way she asks it, nothing more than genuine curiosity lies in her tone even if the phrasing is somewhat harsh. Manon might not be the bubbliest of characters, she’s blunt and doesn’t beat around the bush, but she’s not unkind, and Aelin doubts if she knew the truth she’d ask that question in such a way.

Elide managed to keep the worst of her… career break? One could phrase it more like breakdown, out of the limelight. She somehow managed to keep the worst of it hidden, and Aelin will owe her that for the rest of her life.

All the world knows is that Sam was murdered when they were both still newbies to their respective industries, neither of them had had their big break yet, and after that she took a break. For three years.

She remembers the headlines from the time, most were in smaller magazines, Sam wasn’t famous enough to make the front pages. Her mouth tastes like bile.

Singer-Songwriter Sam Cortland, 20, murdered in random street attack in Orynth, girlfriend Aelin Ashryver unharmed and working with police to identify suspect.

No one knows she knelt there in his blood begging for him to open his eyes, not even Aedion, or Lysandra or Elide, and she blinks back the image now. Her hands are curled into fists below the table and she forces herself to uncurl them and lay them flat against her jeans.

“Yeah,” she says after clearing her throat. “I took a break from it all for a few years, but I’m back now obviously and really excited for it.”

Manon nods and Gavriel raises a glass. He’s been nothing but kind to her all night. He kind of reminds her of her father, though he’s not that old, probably not even forty yet. He’s softly spoken and counters each snarky comment from Fenrys or Manon with something softer but no less amusing.

“Good to hear,” Fenrys says with a grin, clinking his glass against Gavriel’s.

The way Rowan watches her as he raises his own glass in a toast to her, careful and without speaking, tells her he knows. At least the basics about Sam, and it seems like maybe he did google her just like she joked back at the table read.

Their meals arrive then, mercifully taking the attention away from her. She needs to find a better way to deal with the attention than shutting down, especially if this film is going to be as big as everyone thinks it will be. She should call her therapist.

She will.

Eventually.

They leave the restaurant not long after, Fenrys covering the bill, emphasising that this was a celebration and an initiation for Aelin. She almost blushes for some unknown reason at his words, but she likes it. It sounds good. Like she really is back, or at least will be.

They each give her their numbers, and she likes the way he’s in her phone now as Rowan rather than Rowan Whitethorn, it feels like he’s not just someone from work. Not just her boss.

They each say goodbye and share a series of embraces, ignoring the small group of paparazzi that follow, desperate for any kind of incriminating image of any of the five of them. It’s clear that most of them are here for Fenrys, but she still makes sure to keep her expression clear and guarded as Rowan wraps her into a one-armed hug when they leave. It’s not just for the paparazzi.

Back in her apartment, when she’s tucked up in bed knowing she should be asleep, she can’t stop herself from googling him. She’s honestly surprised she’s lasted this long.

The first few news articles to come up are all about the movie and she scrolls past them, instead pulling up his Wikipedia page and scrolling straight to the personal life section. Maybe this is the weirdest way anyone’s ever got to know a friend, but she’s intrigued and still slightly flustered by him so it will do.

The section on his personal life is relatively bare, and it doesn’t surprise her. His Instagram account alone told her pretty explicitly that he’s a private kind of guy. She almost scrolls away after the first few lines, they don’t give her much information other than the college he went to and the languages he speaks, but she reads the final few lines of the section anyway.

In March 2018 Whitethorn’s fiance, Lyria Woods, passed away as the result of a road traffic accident. The driver of the other vehicle was found to be under the influence of alcohol at the time of the accident and was later sentenced to 6 years in prison for death by dangerous driving. Woods was 12 weeks pregnant with their child at the time of the accident.

Only a couple of weeks after the Oscars that she and Lysandra watched. She does the maths and realises this is his first film since then and thinks she knows what Fenrys meant.

Fucking shit.

Her second day of shooting goes better than the first, just as Fenrys said it would.

She’s more relaxed when she crosses the set from her trailer with a coffee in hand and she thinks she knows her place a little better now, even after only one night spent with the others.

She lies back while her make up is done, chatting to the make-up artist instead of sitting silently like the day before, and she’s almost ready for the discomfort that her wet hair will bring. The weather adds to the atmosphere of the film, dark and dreary and moody, and she gets why they’re doing it, but it still sucks.

Fenrys is ready when she gets there, and while she’s not avoiding Rowan today after finding out about his… past, she just finds it difficult to look him in the eye knowing what she does. He probably wouldn’t be surprised that she knew, if it’s on Wikipedia it’s public knowledge and they have made jokes about googling each other, but she feels weird in a way that she didn’t learn it from him. It feels intrusive, or invasive, to find out about something like that through Wikipedia.

But even though they bonded somewhat last night, and he greeted her this morning with an easy hey, they’re still not close. No matter that she thinks she might want them to be. She’s trying again to ignore the way she feels drawn to him, the way her eyes seek him out without her permission.

She knows she kills the take. Knows it from the high five Fenrys slaps against her palm once Rowan’s called cut and from the swift nod he offers her when she glances towards him.

There seem to be two Rowan’s too, there’s the award winning director Rowan Whitethorn, and then just Rowan.

Rowan Whitethorn is cool and calculating and distant, quiet while he watches their scene from his place behind the camera, the big black headphones he uses pushed down around his neck. His eyes are as sharp as a hawk’s while he watches for all the minute details of their expressions and any improvements they could make. He doesn’t give her that many she’s pleased to note.

The way he instructs them is impressive, with clear directions and thoughtful analyses. She’s been here two days and she knows how he got the Oscar nomination, he’s scarily intelligent and seems to know exactly what’s off about a performance before she figures it out herself.

The other side to him, the side that is just Rowan is…

Just Rowan is the one she likes more.

She suspects the smile he gives her later, after they’ve nailed the bulk of the scene in one take and she’s being twirled around by Fenrys, comes from him.

She has two full days off in a row, and she decides the best use of her time is to go and stay with Aedion and Lysandra. Fenrys isn’t free, and the reason she is is that he has a load of solo scenes to shoot, and she doesn’t envy him at all.

Lysandra is ecstatic when she announces via a group text to her and Aedion that she’ll be at their house for lunchtime, and she loves it, but it makes her feel a little guilty. That she’s let it get to the point when her friend reacts like that at her promise of a visit is quite frankly appalling, but she finally feels as if she’s taken the first step. She’s on the bottom rung of the ladder, and it’s taken her a while, but she’s there now.

Aedion and Lysandra live in a disgustingly big house in a gated part of the suburbs, and she knows the house isn’t exactly what they would have chosen in an ideal world, it’s too big and garish and grey, but there are gates by the entrance and 24 hour security.

It still messes with her head that Aedion is that famous. Aedion. Her gangly cousin, always too tall for his own good, who used to pull her hair when they were kids and sneak her extra helpings of cake at family parties before her parents divorced. She doesn’t know that much about football, so little in fact that her dad and Aedion teased her relentlessly for years, but everyone tells her he’s good.

Like really good.

The salary he gets from the Ravens is more than enough proof.

She rings their front door bell and she can hear Lysandra’s quick steps before the big wooden door is pulled open.

Her friend is glowing. Her dark hair falls into waves near the end and her staggeringly beautiful face is free of any make-up and unblemished and dewy. She’s had time to get over the insecurities that come from being friends with Lysandra so it barely phases her as she wraps her arms around her friend.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispers into Lysandra’s hair. It smells like coconut and citrus and just Lysandra.

“I missed you too. So much,” Lysandra sighs as she pulls back, dragging Aelin into the house and shutting the door.

Their hallway is grand and open but there’s a pile of their shoes by the wall and a rack of coats that make it feel more homely. There are framed photos carefully arranged on the sideboard in the entry way that show the two of them with their whole family and all of their friends.

There’s one on there of Aelin and Lysandra at eighteen, their arms thrown tightly around each other while they grin massive, excited smiles at the camera, or more likely Elide behind it. She remembers the day it was taken, Lysandra had signed to her first agency and arranged to move to Rifthold, and they had taken her out to celebrate.

It was around the same time she signed for her first movie, a tiny role with two lines and twenty seconds of screen time but it got the ball rolling with her first proper acting credit, and she’ll never forget it.

A head of golden hair pokes around the kitchen doorway at the end of the hall and she lets her cousin sweep her up into a hug, swinging her up and around so her feet dangle above the floor.

“Alien, we’ve missed you.”

A stupid nickname from when they were young, the kind of young where he thought it was hilarious to replace her name with an extraterrestrial, but it only makes her smile now, squeezing her cousin tight before he puts her back down.

“Yeah, I bet you’ve been lost without me.” She beams at them, taking a moment to soak in how it feels to be with them even as Aedion rolls his eyes. “I’ve missed you both too.”

“Lunch is ready, come on,” Aedion tells her as he takes her case and drags it through the house, leaving it by the bottom of the stairs. It’s then that she spots the frilly pink apron tied around his waist.

“Alright,” she laughs. “I can’t wait to try what the domestic goddess has in store for us.”

Peals of laughter burst out of Lysandra and she grins back at her, forever grateful that they managed to keep their relationship with each other from ever impacting on their relationship with Aelin. At first she had been worried that Aedion and Lysandra would become AedionAndLysandra and that she wouldn’t have a place left with them, but she needn’t have worried, and they worked too well together for Aelin to have ever wished for anything different.

“Gods, shut up,” he mutters, slinging an arm around her shoulders and leading her to the kitchen. “So annoying, both of you.”

She grins as she hears Lysandra smack an overly dramatic kiss to his cheek.

Aedion’s a surprisingly good cook, the lunch he’s made is tasty despite being carefully planned to fit into both his and Lysandra’s strict meal plans. If they’re the cost needed to be able to live in a house like this, Aelin doesn’t want it.

“So,” Aedion says after he’s finished chewing a mouthful. “How are things going?”

He asks it with a gentle kind of sensitivity that she understands what he’s really asking. She knows it’s code for are you still sober? but she also knows he hasn’t asked it because he doubts her. Aedion and Lysandra have always been in her corner, even in her darkest moments they were there.

She never wants to put them through anything like that ever again. Never wants them to experience anything as terrifying as the last night she ever touched a drug. That night, almost a year ago now, will forever be the bottom of her pit. She doesn’t remember much of it, other than the devastation on Aedion’s face as he carried her out of the men’s toilets of a seedy nightclub in Perranth. The way he’d bitten his lip as he picked her up off the sticky floor, pulling the hem of her dress down to cover her underwear where it had ridden up.

The thought makes her sick.

He’d had to skip a game, leading to a bollocking from his coach, but he’d done it for her. Had carried her out of the club and into a car, waiting to take them back to his house. Lysandra had stroked her hair where she lay on the cool tiles of the bathroom floor while Aedion called a doctor to the house. Even through his panic he had thought of her and how little she would want it publicised that she’d been pulled out of a club, off her fucking rocker on whatever substance she’d been given by the lowlives she had fallen in with. She’s really, really lucky that for once Aedion hadn’t been followed by paparazzi.

She takes a sip of her sparkling water before she answers, it feels like all she ever drinks these days and it tastes like shit but it’s worth it if she never reverts back to where she was.

“I’m good.” She’s almost surprised to find that it’s true. “I’m feeling much better.”

She can barely look at them, can barely take the level of subdued joy on their faces.

“We’re glad Aelin, really glad.” Lysandra’s voice is sincere.

“So, how’s the new project going?” Aedion asks her, sensing her discomfort almost immediately.

“That’s good too actually.” It is. It feels good to have something positive to focus on, something that she feels is productive and worth doing. “It’s nice to be back and be busy even if the morning shoots begin disgustingly early. It’s good to be on set, surrounded by it all again and to remember that I can actually do this.”

She stabs her fork through a piece of tomato a little aggressively as she finishes and the look Lysandra shoots her tells her she’s not impressed with the self-deprecation but that she’ll let it slide for now.

“And Fenrys Moonbeam, is he really that good looking in real life?”

Aelin laughs. “More actually, sometimes it's too much.”

“Nice,” Lysandra nods appreciatively.

“Is he alright though?” Ever the overprotective older brother figure, she expected some version of this question from Aedion.

“He’s great. He’s hilarious and it really helps on the long days,” she says before taking her next bite.

“And Rowan Whitethorn’s directing isn’t he? What’s he like?”

Aelin blinks and finishes chewing slowly. “He’s… fine.”

She knows she’s fucked it when Aedion and Lysandra share a look, matching smirks beginning on each of their faces.

“Fine,” Lysandra repeats. “What exactly does fine mean Aelin?”

She purses her lips. “He’s a great director.”

Lysandra rolls her eyes. “And?”

She could probably lie here, they’d probably let it slide if she said some bullshit about how they’ve not spoken much and how she barely knows him, but she honestly needs to talk to someone about this. You know, to set her straight.

“And he’s really hot.”

She’s blushing as Lysandra laughs and Aedion chuckles.

“You’ve got a crush,” Lysandra sing-songs, and when she doesn't respond she says, “Have you got a picture of him? I don’t think I actually know what he looks like.”

She can’t blame Lysandra for that, she’s still kicking herself for not recognising him that day in the hallway, but he was only on screen for a few seconds at the Oscars and it wasn’t long after Sam so it wasn’t like she was paying attention in that way. She still thinks she should have noticed.

She pulls her phone out to find the only picture she has on there with Rowan. She had only taken it this week when they were eating breakfast with Fenrys one morning, in one of the tents that had been set up for them to sit in between takes, and Fenrys had pulled his phone out to snap a photo of her for his Instagram story.

She’d been wrapped up in one of the huge parkas they’re given for the times in between scenes holding her croissant high up in the air when he’d taken it. He’d captioned it she could have dropped her croissant and tagged her, and she’d gained a good few thousand followers. She’s almost at a million and they’re only a couple of weeks into shooting.

She had taken one of him in response and then spun around to force Rowan into a selfie with her, he’d protested but she’d pouted until he relented, grumbling something about actors that she knew he didn’t mean. She didn’t post it anywhere, she kept it to herself and she can’t lie, she’s looked at it way too many times since.

She’s smiling a wide smile, cheeks stuffed full of her croissant and it’s really kind of gross, but the small smile on Rowan’s face makes it bearable. More than bearable, she has to resist the temptation to make it her lock screen because that would be weird.

She remembers the heat of his chest where he had stood behind her to lean down so their faces were level, the hand he rested on her shoulder to steady himself and the way his fingers had brushed against her neck in the lightest caress.

She hands the phone over to Lysandra and wants to pull it back almost immediately.

It’s not that she’s embarrassed or whatever, even if they think it’s a bad idea they’d let her down gently, it's just that their opinion matters to her a lot. And while they haven’t exactly approved of her string of random hookups in the years since Sam, they’ve never tried to comment on it other than to check she’s in a good place with it, but she knows they’re waiting for the next person she sees seriously.

There’s a fairly large part of her that thinks her first relationship since Sam shouldn’t be with her boss. And that fucks her up a bit, because since when was she considering a relationship with him?

“Oh yeah,” Lysandra says, scaring away the intrusive thought and raising one perfectly arched eyebrow. “He’s hot alright.”

Aedion nods along, peering over Lysandra’s shoulder. Lysandra’s eyes are far too knowing when she looks back up at Aelin and passes the phone over. She doesn’t say a word before locking the phone and sliding it back into her pocket.

“You’ll have to invite us to set sometime.” Lysandra is sneaky but not subtle.

“I will,” she agrees.

The next week flies by, she shoots every single day but one, and she’s far too exhausted each night to do anything other than scrounge up a measly meal that can be pulled together from her cupboard basics and the limited vegetables in her fridge before falling straight asleep. They’ve made good progress so far, and she knows it's going to be good, but she’s tired.

She’s seen a lot more of the process outside of her own character by now too, and she’s amazed, but not surprised, when she persuades one of the crew to let her watch back one of Fenrys’ solo scenes from the previous week. He’s a phenomenal actor, that much is clear, but she had allowed herself to get caught up in Fenrys as her friend, the happy and funny guy she spends her time with, forgetting the talented and driven lead actor of their movie.

Not that she can forget it in the scenes they share, but she’s mostly concentrating on the emotions her character is going through, and responding to what Fenrys gives her. It almost feels too natural for him, and she forgets that it takes work.

His text meets her at lunchtime on the Sunday they both have off, when she’s still in her pyjamas on the couch, debating whether to start a new series or watch the latest cheesy rom-com that Netflix has released.

She auditioned for one of them a couple of years ago, and she’s far enough past the bitterness that comes with not getting the role that she could enjoy it. Maybe a little, cynical part of herself thinks she’s glad she didn’t get it. What she has now is far better. She’s being a snob, but she straight up doesn’t care. It’s not like anyone else is here to judge her.

Fancy coming to Rowan’s to watch the game? I’m leaving in 20 his text reads.

She didn’t plan on doing anything today, but the invitation sparks something in her, and she’s never been to Rowan’s place before. The studio put him in a house about thirty minutes from set, and she’s curious. How much luxury does the big name director get compared to what she and Fenrys have got? She’s lucky really, that Dorian managed to negotiate the same for her as they offered Fenrys.

rowan’s??? She replies, followed by what game????

She gets up off the couch, putting the lid on the tub of yoghurt she was tucking into with a spoon and walking through to the kitchen to throw it back into the fridge.

Tall, grumpy guy that bosses us around all the time comes through a minute later and she grins at her phone at the description. It’s followed up by Ravens v Panthers.

She taps out, getting changed will be ready in 15 and he replies with three smiling emojis.

She doesn’t think it will be anything fancy if her impromptu invitation is anything to go by so she only swaps her pyjama bottoms with tiny cartoon sheep down the legs for a pair of black leggings and throws a sweatshirt over her oversized t-shirt.

Manon is there when they get there, sprawled across the two seater sofa at the far side of Rowan’s living room, and she gives them both a wave when they enter the room. The house is a pretty modest, two-up two-down in a sweet neighbourhood and it’s cosy inside with relatively modern decor. She doesn’t know for sure whether or not that fits Rowan, but she feels like it does.

He doesn’t let them in, Fenrys swings the door open and marches in like it’s his own place and she wonders how much he and Rowan have hung out, or whether that’s just him. Rowan appears in the doorway about a minute after they come in, a bowl of snacks in his hand that she thinks could be popcorn and he puts it down before coming over to wrap Fenrys in a hug. They slap each other on the back in the way that guys do before pulling back.

Aelin stands at Fenrys’ side watching the exchange, unsure whether to greet Rowan or just take a seat, and once they’re done he seems to regard her with the same sort of uncertainty. Fenrys darts around Rowan to throw himself onto the other sofa and she doesn’t give herself long enough to doubt her decision before she opens her arms and steps towards him.

“Hey,” he says simply as he wraps her into a brief hug. “Thanks for coming.”

She wraps her arms around his own broad shoulders, and it feels nice. He’s warm and strong beneath her hands and the way his arms loop around her waist, so far his hands reach back around to her stomach, gets her in a way that she really doesn’t need to think about. It feels really good pressed up against him like that.

“Hey,” she breathes as he pulls back, and she knows he sees the blush on her cheeks. She’s not fifteen, she really needs to sort herself out. “Thanks for having us.”

“Of course, make yourself at home.” He gives her another half smile, offering a flash of his straight, white teeth, and again she’s struck by him. That his place is behind the camera is a crime. “I’ve got more snacks and drinks in the kitchen if you want.”

“Beer?” Fenrys asks her, already heading to a door that she assumes leads to the kitchen.

She shakes her head, “do you have sparkling water?” She directs the question to Rowan who nods.

He doesn’t have to speak before Fenrys says “on it,” and leaves the room.

She assesses the seating choices left in the room, there’s a cream two-seater sofa opposite where Manon lies, and that’s probably her best bet, but Rowan has already taken his seat on it, an ankle crossed over a knee as he settles into the cushions. There’s plenty of room to sit by him and not touch, and she weighs it up against having to ask Manon to move.

She’s friendly with the girl, but still feels slightly intimidated by the calculating and sarcastic blonde despite the fact that she’s a few years younger than Aelin herself, so maybe Rowan is the safer choice.

Fenrys comes back into the room just as she takes her seat.

“Move your feet, Blackbeak,” he demands as he hands her a glass of sparkling water, it’s chilled with a couple of cubes of ice and she appreciates it.

Manon lifts her legs for Fenrys to sit, but plops her legs back down across his lap immediately and sticks her tongue out at him as she does. Aelin feels herself smile at the display, and the fact that she’s included in this circle of friends. She hasn’t really made an effort with anyone new since Sam, the only people she’s really spoken to are Elide, Lysandra and Aedion, and they were all there for her before Sam. It feels really damn good.

She really, really, doesn’t understand the rules of football, but it’s easy enough to cheer along when the others do and laugh at their outrage when something doesn’t go their way. It’s the most animated she’s seen Rowan so far, and she’s not quite sure which way their allegiances lie, but it’s probably with the Ravens being in Rifthold and all, and she knows her own is.

Everytime Aedion gets the ball or is shown on screen she can’t hold back the cheers. She’s proud of him and she knows how hard he works to be as good as he is, and even knowing as little as she does, it's special to watch him excel.

Rowan and Fenrys both seem a little starstruck that he’s her cousin, to her he’s just Aedion and they’re the real, scary celebrities, but they gush about him like starstruck little boys.

“And you were at his house last weekend?” Fenrys cries, almost outraged that this is the first he’s ever heard of it, but honestly? They’re both Ashryvers; it’s not like it's a secret.

“Yes,” she laughs. “He’s basically like my brother.”

“Gods, Aelin.” He sounds almost pained that she hasn’t brought this up before. “You've been holding out on us! Please give me his number or introduce me or something.”

“Sorry.” She laughs again and throws a smile to Rowan that he returns with another quirk of his lips. “Invite me earlier next time and I’ll ask him to sort a box for us at the stadium.”

“Seriously?” Even Rowan sounds awed now.

“Yeah, just let me know,” she says. “It’s no big deal.”

It really wouldn't be, Aedion has been telling her for years to invite any friends she wants to games, she would just need some friends outside of him, Lysandra and Elide first.

“It’s definitely a big deal,” he says, watching her with a smirk still playing on his lips.

She shrugs. “Just make sure you text me early next time.”

“Oh, I will,” he says, and she has to look away from him. The way his voice curves around the words, all low and intense, is definitely about more than just the game.

She tries to pass it off as just looking to where Fenrys is cheering loudly at the next play, but Manon is there again, looking at her with such a knowing expression that she immediately focuses back on the TV.

At half time she needs to use the bathroom and Rowan gives her a quick rundown of the layout of the house. She’s quick to do her thing and runs by the kitchen afterwards to grab a refill of her drink and find something to eat.

Rowan had told them all to help themselves, explaining that he felt they had as much right as he to poke through the cupboards in the only just filled rental property and she gets it. The places the studio rent out for them are nice enough, and she’s more than grateful that they do, but it’s never quite home. Even if her home is somewhat impersonal, it’s still home.

She’s on her tiptoes, scanning through the relatively well stocked cupboards on the hunt for anything chocolate, when someone enters the kitchen behind her.

“I know I said help yourselves, but you’re going to eat me out of house and home at this rate.”

It’s Rowan, and he leans against the doorframe as he watches her startle and spin to face him, his legs are crossed at the ankles and his arms are folded over his chest. The pose highlights his powerful arms that she wants to be wrapped up in again and he looks really good in the dim lighting of the kitchen. It bounces off the lines of his tattoo, shining and highlighting the swirls that she can barely look away. She wants to ask what it means.

Aelin scoffs and pushes the cupboard door shut gently, they’re not eating that much and if they are it’s definitely not her, Fenrys and Manon are another story.

“There’s nothing stopping you from kicking us all out,” she says and he laughs, shaking his head.

He tilts his head to the side, his gaze picking her apart by the second before he says “maybe not all of you.”

His words and the way he shifts in the doorway as his eyes run her up and down gives her the confidence to bite her lip and look up at him through her lashes. He pushes off the door frame and comes to lean against the counter by her side.

He opens a cupboard door on her other side and rummages through a shelf before handing her a foil packet.

“I have a feeling this is what you were after.”

She accepts the chocolate and tucks it onto the counter at her side as she mirrors him and leans against it too.

“Unsurprisingly, you’d be correct.”

He presses his lips together before his lips twist again, it’s the same expression from before that she knows means he wants to smile but he can’t quite commit, and she feels her body loosen like she wants to lean forward to press into him. She doesn’t though.

What she does instead is take a sharp breath and a step back. “Thanks.” She waves the bar of chocolate in the air before stepping around him and making her way back into the living room, forcing her steps to seem calm and collected as she feels his gaze heavy on her back.

“Anytime.” His words follow her out of the room, they’re a promise.

Luckily, Fenrys and Manon both ignore it when Rowan follows her and retakes his place next to her.

[forsakenoathkeeper]

I Am Alive (chapter 1/?)

Chapter 1: A Nurse for Androids

Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content

Synopsis: You were a biomechanical engineer, a fancy way of saying that you repaired androids. After the revolution, you decided to move back to Detroit to offer aid as, essentially, a nurse. After stopping by to visit an old friend, you began to grow attached to his android partner.

Chapters • 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • 19 • 20 • 21 • 22 • 23 • 24 • 25 • 26 • 27 • 28 • more coming soon

You can also read on AO3 & thank you for supporting me ♥

"Lieutenant, this place is-"

Connor stopped himself when he caught the look Hank was giving him. It was something akin to a scowl, though his lip was a bit more crooked and his eyes were more annoyed than angry.

"Hank," Connor corrected himself. "This place is-"

"Can it," the detective groaned, knowing full well he was about to get criticized for living in a dump.

Connor caught himself smiling a little, despite the fact he had just been told to shut up. There was something oddly satisfying about getting on Hank's nerves, especially when it was over harmless things. 'Banter' was what it was called.

Hank had been sober since the revolution, and that was nearing six months ago. It was a little difficult for Connor to get a grasp on how that made him feel. 'Proud' seemed to be the word that came up the most in his searches. He was proud of his partner and wanted to congratulate him.

The older detective insisted 'I don't need nuttin' and 'don't buy me no damn gifts' when Connor suggested they celebrate. After some insistence, Hank reluctantly agreed to let Connor help him clean his house. It seemed to go hand in hand with Hank's new resolve: get your shit together, tidy up the place, buy some new fucking furniture.

"Isn't the point of this whole deviant thing to not do stuff for humans?" Hank asked, mopping the kitchen while Connor loaded up 'Hank's crap' in a box to be donated.

"I'm doing this because I want to," Connor insisted. He paused and turned to Hank. "We could test it? Tell me to do something."

Hank leaned against the broom, eyeing the android suspiciously. "Fine. Trim Sumo's nails."

Connor did not even break eye contact. "No."

Hank let out a howling laugh. "Smartass."

The android smiled and resumed what he had been doing. It all made sense, why humans got such a rise in telling people to fuck off, why Hank had no issue telling Connor to 'mind his own damn business' when he scolded him for his choice in food. Free will felt good. Connor had his own apartment, collected a paycheck. He went to work every day because he wanted to.

The doorbell rang and Connor eyed Hank first.

The lieutenant shrugged his shoulders. "Knock yourself out. Probably just some damn door to door salesman."

Connor trotted over to the front door. When he answered , he was greeted by a pretty woman, a few inches shorter than him, with a bright smile and beaming eyes. She had a curious demeanor: like she had knocked on this door dozens of times. Well, you had, it had just been a long time.

Before he could utter a word-

"Holy shit," you exclaimed through a wild grin. You had expected Hank to answer the door. But, a familiar face did instead. His hair was neatly trimmed with just a few devious strands fallen over his forehead, kind brown eyes and a squared jaw. Most guys grew out of their freckles. You were pleased to see that he did not.

His eyes flickered with confusion at the sight of you. It was to be expected, so you didn't overthink it.

Excitement overwhelmed you and you reached forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down into a friendly embrace. He was frozen stiff in the door way, one hand still on the handle while the other hung limp at his side.

"God you got tall," you murmured happily into the space above his shoulder. You pulled back and looked into his confused eyes.

"Cole, don't tell me you forgot your best friend?" you teased. His head tilted slightly and his brow softened.

In the corner of your eye, you could see Hank approaching from the kitchen. When you saw the look on his face, your excitement settled down. He did not look like the police officer you knew growing up. His once clean shaven face was covered in a messy beard. His once neatly trimmed hair was long and shaggy. He had greyed a tremendous amount, likely from stress.

Yet, his kind eyes were the same as you remembered.

"Officer Anderson," you addressed him with a smile.

Hank didn't even have to ponder over who you might be. You were all grown up, sure, but like hell he'd ever forget the kid his kid spent most of his time with. He uttered your name with a sort of fondness that brought you right back to your childhood. However, there was something equally depressing in the way he said it.

"I am very sorry; but, I am not Cole."

Your eyes returned to the young man in front of you, the one you had just embraced. He offered his hand to you. You gawked up at him for a moment, processing what he had just said. It was then that you finally saw it, the solid blue LED on his temple.

Embarrassment flushed your face; so, you took his hand to try to drown it out. "My name is Connor and I am a detective with the Detroit Police Department," he introduced himself proudly.

"I - I'm sorry. That was very rude of me," you apologized, voice so much smaller than it was a few seconds ago. Connor didn't seem bothered at all by what had just occurred.

"Good to see ya', kid," Hank grunted. You nodded at him and forced a smile. Hank did not.

The older detective made a gesture, beckoning you inside. "Why don'tja come in..."

The android, Connor, stepped out of the way and you followed Hank into his living room. It had not changed one bit since the last time you were here: the same shaggy carpets and wrinkly old couch and faded recliner.

He had not said it yet; but, as you took a seat and began to process everything, you knew what was coming. Hank took a seat in his recliner and leaned forward, elbows on his lap. You felt your heart sink into your stomach and blood rush to your ears.

"Cole died, not long after you moved away," Hank explained. "This hunk'a'plastic is my partner." He motioned at Connor with a wave of his arm. "Sorry," he added on gruffly.

He had died... that long ago? And you had no idea... You had grown up, graduated college, lived through a quarter of your life already and Cole was... was gone, had been gone, long before he could experience much of anything.

"Hank - shit - I'm sorry. I came barging in here and-..." Hank waved you down, hoping to calm the storm that was beginning to brew. You continued, however, trying to settle the unease in your voice. "Me being here - it probably brought back painful memories. I should leave."

"Brought back memories, ya. Not painful ones," he replied, tone low, but sincere. "Less you count the time he fell outta the tree and broke his arm. You blamed yourself. So, I had two crying kids. Fucking hell."

His grumpy, yet playful tone, brought a smile to your face, and you choked out a laugh. "It was my fault," you giggled out.

"Yeah, well. That's a'right. He wore that cast like a medal," Hank replied with a soft smile, eyes looking off into nothing for a moment.

"I just wanted to say hi - check in on you guys," you explained, sniffling. You wiped some tears away before standing up. "I'm a mechanic - er, nurse - for androids. Moved back here to help, after the revolution - well, y'know. It's gonna be awhile before we can figure out a healthcare plan for androids."

"Sounds like you got a lot on your plate," Hank replied.

"Well, I'm glad to hear you're still a cop. I imagine you'll be hearing from me a lot - abuse cases, y'know?"

"I'm glad you made something of yourself," the older detective added on, fatherly tone catching you off guard. It forced a sincere smile to your face.

"I better get outta here," you breathed. "Oh! Uhm - here - in case you ever need to get ahold of me." You pulled a card out of your pocket and offered it to Hank before offering another one to the android. You avoided his gaze in the process, but he took the card eagerly.

"I'm mainly gonna be stationed at Thirium Clinic. They just opened a couple weeks ago. Lots of... well, battle wounds and-..." You trailed off when Hank nodding in understanding. Tensions were still running high, violent protests were inevitably going to continue for a very long time.

Hank yanked his wallet out of his pocket and tucked the card away.  In the corner of your eye, you could see Connor do the same with the card you handed him. "Thanks, kid. My cell never changed if you still have it."

"Good to know. Thanks, Hank."

"If we meet again, I hope it is under good circumstances," the android - Connor - stated. Your eyes landed on him, a natural response from trained politeness.

You tried not to be overwhelmed by the site of him. He looked like Cole - like Cole had grown up and matured into a handsome young man. His soft brown eyes and freckles clashed deliciously with his sharp jawline. His designers had even put texture in his skin around his mouth and along his jaw and chin, suggesting he shaved every morning. Most androids had flawless skin; but, Connor had visible pores.

"I hope so, too," you replied, forcing your eyes away from his face.

Did Hank know what Connor looked like? He said they were partners. Did Hank choose Connor? Was he made for Hank? Did Connor know what he looked like? You had lots of questions. But, none of them were even mildly appropriate.

"Hank, thank you for letting me bug you for a bit. It was nice."

He smiled a crooked smile. "Sure thing, kid. Now, get off my lawn."

You returned his smile and saw yourself out.

As soon as the door closed, Connor's mouth was open.

"Don't you apologize or any other dumb shit," Hank scolded him.

Connor's mouth made a quiet sound when he smacked it closed.

"Back to work," Hank groaned.

...

...

...

Luck had it that you saw Hank and his android companion less than a week later. It first came in the form of a text from the older detective.

'connor fucked up his hand you working?' was what it read. You replied with a simple 'yes' and two of Detroit's finest were walking through the sliding door to the Thirium Clinic.

When you approached them, Connor had a towel wrapped loosely around his hand, the cotton stained blue from all the thirium that had leaked out of him.

"Hope you didn't expect something fancy," you said shyly as you ushered the boys over to a booth. The place was clearly an abandoned grocery store turned medical office. They had not yet put up any real walls, just portable ones to give the illusion of privacy. Simply put, it was a shit show

Connor sat down and propped his arm on the chair's operating arm. You took a seat next to him, flipped on the hovering light, and carefully removed the towel.

"Really? Have you seen my house?" Hank barked.

You chuckled at that; but, the laughter died off when you exposed Connor's injuries. The sheeting - skin, if you will - was completely torn off Conner's right hand: his palm, the pads of his fingers, even a few inches down his wrist. The wiring was exposed, and you could already spot several that needed to be replaced. His hand felt stiff as concrete, further proving the damage you had feared.

"Shit," you cursed, spinning away from him in your chair to a nearby filing cabinet. You fished out some wires, and continued fishing until you found the right ones for his model.

Connor had remained quite still, you realized, when you came back around. You looked over his arm again, mentally preparing yourself for the path ahead.

"Aside from the obvious missing tissue and thirium loss, it's like nerve damage," you explained over your shoulder to Hank.

"Damn it, Connor," he grunted.

"Sorry, lieutenant," the android replied, intentionally robotic, but with the slightest smirk on the corner of his lip.

You had to choke down a laugh. "I'm glad it hasn't been hurting you, Connor. But, this might," you warned him as you set down the wires.

"I understand," he replied firmly.

He twitched a little when you plucked the first wire. For the rest, he managed to stay still. With how close you were, you could occasionally hear him let out a quiet, sharp hiss, so quiet that Hank was unlikely to hear it. You ended up replacing almost every wire that ran from his digits, through his palm, and down his wrist to the first joint bracket. Listening to him wince in pain never got any easier.

"Finally. Done with the wires," you breathed once the last one was secured. You leaned back and let Connor flex his fingers and twist his hand. He began to rotate his wrist around when you decided to stop him, gently cupping the back of his hand.

You did this all the time; but, you were faintly aware of heat blossoming on your cheeks as you held Connor’s hand. You silently scolded yourself, feeling a little too old to have a silly crush.

"Gotta patch you up, then a thirium transplant," you breathed.

Before it would adhered to an android and take on a skin tone, their flesh was pale, metallic, shiny and sparkly. It was also something between plastic and silicone, and had to be melted.

Hands were detailed, with corners and wrinkles, and much harder to get right than patching a wound on a thigh, which meant it would take a little longer. You had a handheld device that made it easier. It looked almost like a tattoo gun, and allowed you to carefully adhere it over the gaping wounds on his hand.

Normally, you had to ask your patients to be still. Connor seemed to be doing a great job of handling that without needing to be told. As you finished, you watched in awe as the flesh took on the peachy, light color of his factory default skin tone.

With a sigh, you set your tools down and maneuvered over to a nearby storage container holding bags of thirium. You wished one out and handed it to the detective. His levels weren’t low enough to require manual insertion. He could do it a more conventional way.

It was almost funny that androids were designed this way, that their only existing digestive track was to take in more blood. Keeping their thirium levels in the proper range was the closest equivalent they had to the need for nutrients.

Connor smiled gratefully as he took the bag from your hand. “That should be good,” you stated, trying not to feel so bashful beneath his gaze. “Let me know if anything feels wrong in your han-”

It was an unexpected door slam that shattered the moment. Some gasps sounded from the around room, You stood up and looked towards the entrance to see a severely damaged android limping in, a gun in his left hand and his right cradling a wound. He was wearing scraggily clothes that looked unfitting with his prim and proper haircut.

"I want an android doctor!" he demanded, the gun tight in his hand but pointed to the floor. His posture suggested he was scared to use it. However, that did not stop Connor from drawing his own gun.

"Wait," you hissed at him, pushing his arm down.

Connor uttered your name in a scolding tone as you stepped away from the chair and approached the injured android.

You took slow steps towards him, palms exposed in a display of yielding.

"S-stop!" he stuttered, shouting at you. Yet, he didn't point the gun at you.

"Hi. What is your name?" you asked him, not bothering to try and hide your nervousness. Everyone was staring at him nervously, patients near the door scrambling to get away from him.

He hesitated, looking at you with fear in his eyes. "T-Thomas..."

"Hi, Thomas," you replied, trying your best to steady your voice. "I'm sorry but all the nurses here are human. We came here from all over the country to help androids. You don't need the gun."

"No!" he cried out. "I don't want any humans touching me!"

Thomas was not just handsome, he was gorgeous. He had the type of pretty face people dreamt about and bright blue eyes. It didn't take a genius to determine what he was made for.

"Thomas, no one here is going to do anything that you don't want," you spoke to him, firmly. That was easy to say without fear, because it was the truth. "I promise."

You stepped closer, one foot at a time, and kept your eyes on his. You offered your hand and watched the fear slowly melt away behind his eyes.

"H-humans lie," he uttered, choked up, tears threatening to fall.

"I know. I'm sorry, Thomas," you replied quietly. For a moment, you had forgotten that everyone was still staring. "You're free now. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. Thomas, I want to help you. But, before I can, I need you to put the gun down."

"I don't wanna go back," he whimpered. He didn't point the gun at you, but he held it as if to declare that he would use it to make sure that wouldn't happen.

"Are they making you work, Thomas? Your owners?" you asked, watching his face contort in agony. His LED was hidden behind his hair; but, when he turned his head, you could see it blaring red.

"They don't own you anymore," you said, firmly, anger shining through. "Please let me help you."

You stepped a little closer and, this time, he lifted the gun enough that it pointed at you. You almost could see down the barrel.

"It's okay to be afraid. I am, t-too, Thomas," you continued, lifting your hands a little higher. He was sobbing, now, fat tears falling down his cheeks, tinted blue from the stress. His hand, gripping the gun, was shaking.

"Y-you're going into shock from lack of thirium. Please, Thomas, please put the gun down and let me save you!"

His grip had weakened; before you could react, a hand came out of the corner of your field of view and grabbed the gun, effortlessly yanking it from Thomas' grasp. The android collapsed onto his knees in a fit of sobbing, clothing soaked in blue that oozed onto the floor.

Connor stood over the android, Thomas' gun now firmly in his grasp. When did he-? That fast... or had you just not seen him sneaking up behind you?

You brushed past Connor and joined Thomas on the ground. You offered your hand again and he stared at it for a moment. He gasped, once, then twice, before finally taking your hand. Another nurse was at your side in seconds and helped Thomas to his feet. The android was babbling on static, on the verge of powering down.

Connor watched you stagger away with the android, his thirium seeping all over you and staining your scrubs. You were still speaking to him in that gentle voice, ushering him to calm down. All the surrounding patrons had relaxed and continued on as they were. Connor was still holding the gun in his hand. It was covered in buildup, likely uncleaned for years; but, it felt heavy, definitely loaded with a full magazine.

He was so hyper-focused on you that he did not even notice Hank approaching. "You alright, Connor?" Hank asked, knocking the android's arm with his own.

"She's amazing," he replied quietly.

Hank laughed at his declaration. "Look at you getting all doe-eyed." Hank clapped a hand over Connor's shoulder and dragged him towards the door. "Come on, Tiger. With your track record, I'm sure you'll be back in here in no time."

...

...

...

Admiration, Connor realized, is what he felt for you. You were smart, independent, strong. He was impressed with the way you handled an agitated android. He was even more impressed by how much you cared about them. Or, maybe flattered was a better word? He didn't quite know. He just knew that he couldn't stop thinking about you.

"Earth to android," Gavin bellowed, snapping his fingers in the android's face.

Connor looked up at him with an unbothered expression. He was seated at his desk and Gavin, apparently, had been leaning over him, trying to get his attention.

"Watching porn in your head or something, tin can?" he suggested with a sneer.

"I was going over the case files, which happened to be far more important than your whining," Connor replied coolly.

Gavin slammed his hands on the android's desk. "There's still a score to settle. Test me, motherfucker," he growled.

"Sure. Name the game," the android replied with a small smirk.

"Quite the pair on ya' for someone with no balls," Gavin said through clenched teeth.

Connor glared at him slightly, a retort bubbling up in his throat. He did, actually. Without the function of human genitalia, but passable for a real pair, so to speak.

"Maybe if you called him by his name, he would answer," another detective suggested, delivering a harsh slap to Gavin's back as he passed by.

Gavin swung around and hollered at the passerby. "Yeah, when I'm fucking dead!"

Connor rolled his eyes and returned to the computer screen in his mind. He was looking at case files, actually. He just wasn't... thinking about them.

"Another human killed by an android. You'd know all about that. So, enjoy," Gavin declared proudly, dropping a file on Connor's desk. He could care less if Gavin spent the rest of his life hating his wires. But, another detective had... defended him? How... odd. But, not unwelcomed.

Connor opened the case file and took a breath that he didn't need.

...

...

...

Coincidences... Perhaps, a glitch in the matrix? Or just pure luck.

The very morning after patching up Connor, you were in line to get coffee with none other than Hank right in front of you.

"You stalking me?" he teased, hands shoved into his coat pockets and breath visible in front of his face. Most of the snow had thawed, but it was still too damn cold outside.

"Probably," you replied dryly. "This place is the only good place in town."

"Great minds think alike," Hank agreed.

It was your turn to order everyone coffees, so you had several on the way. You and Hank waited together, and even after he got his single mug, he still waited alongside you.

"Whatever it is you wanna ask, just ask, kid," he grumbled.

"Just surprised you got an android partner," you uttered, looking away from him nervously.

"I didn't like him at first. He grew on me, and he's a damn good detective," Hank answered, pausing to take a sip of his coffee. "Don't be embarrassed 'bout confusing him with Cole. I'm not oblivious to the way he looks."

You looked over to Hank, who looked oddly peaceful despite what he was saying.

"Those Cyberlife bastards knew he was gonna be partnered with me. I doubt it was an accident."

Your brow shot up at his implication. "Connor was made to be a detective android, then?"

Hank nodded into his drink. "Yep."

"Does he like being a detective?"

"I asked him that once, when he wanted to come back after all the... protests. He said his programming was gone, no more 'lines of code' telling him what to do... but he still wanted to solve crimes. All I can do is hope it's what he wants, and not choosing the path of least resistance."

"Me too," you whispered, far too fondly for your own good. Hank shot you a look; but, luckily, the barista came to your rescue and called out your name.

"Bye, Hank!" you hollered, rushing to the counter to grab your drinks and see yourself out. It wasn't entirely for selfish reasons. The clinic was waiting, after all.

[hannahdra-ws]

and now (you’re hyper paranoid)

Summary: 

hypochondria; n; abnormal anxiety about one's health, especially with an unwarranted fear that one has a serious disease.

(or: Janus has a very bad time.)

Romantic, established dukeceit

TWs: hypochondria, covid-19, panic attacks, unspecified eating disorder, coughing, crying

----------

Through the uneasy feeling, Janus knew he was being a little unrealistic.

He's perfectly healthy, he rarely gets sick. He hasn't even had the flu before. He's double vaccinated, and he wears his mask everywhere. He's certainly never gotten food poisoning before.

So he doesn't know why he's freaking out so much.

read on ao3

Janus stared at the plate in front of him, heart thumping so loudly he was almost sure the others at the table could hear it. It wasn't anything major, it was just meatloaf with a side of mashed potatoes and corn, and Patton and Logan (mostly Logan) spent a lot of time on it, so there's no reason he shouldn't eat it.

The others are enjoying it too, bantering and joking across the table without a care in the world. Roman was basically sitting in Logan's lap, and Four Idiots (as Janus and Remus dubbed them as) kept sending each other equally besotted expressions. Remus was next to him, gesturing animatedly while he talked with one hand and the other hand tightly gripped in Janus's own.

He felt off kilter and shaky, watching everyone eat their food. Janus knows he should be eating too, and logically he knows that there is a very small chance of him getting food poisoning. But that doesn't make the debilitating anxiety welling up inside him go away.

Oh God, he's going to get sick, somethings wrong with the meat he'll get sick and vo-

Ugh. Virgil's the one that has the anxiety problem, not him. Why did his brother have to give him his mental illness? Bitch.

Suddenly, a loud noise happened, forcefully dragging Janus out of his mind. It was Roman, coughing loudly. He kept hacking, and hacking, and Janus abruptly felt faint. 

The others were watching with concern, and Logan was patting Roman on the back to get whatever had lodged in his throat out. Eventually, he did clear his airways, after a long breath in and a particularly violent cough. 

Patton inquired if he was okay, and Roman nodded, face red and tears streaming down his face from coughing so much. "Sorry, I choked." His voice was scratchy from coughing. But he was smiling, and that should have been an indicator that he was okay, he just choked, he's fine-

Remus made some comment, and Virgil flipped him off while still looking worriedly in Roman's direction, but Janus suddenly couldn't hear through the ringing in his ears. Remus must have noticed either the way he abruptly went still, or the fact that he had barely eaten anything, because he squeezed his hand in question. Janus abruptly stood up from the table, almost knocking his chair down in the process.

Remus frowned, a small, confused thing, "Jaybird? You alright?"

"I'm sorry, if you'll excuse me," Janus managed to choke out, before quickly ripping his hand from Remus's and stumbling away, ignoring the protests and calls from the table behind him. 

He hopes no one noticed that he didn't finish his meal.

----

Janus stumbled to his room, heart beating out of his chest, thump, thump, thump. He quickly locked the door and slid his back down to the floor, digging his gloved hands in his hair and pulling.

Roman's dry hacking wouldn't leave his head, oh God he sounded sick, but he's not he just choked he's fine, he doesn't have covid none of you do you're all vaccinated, fuck-

Janus was acutely aware that he was crying, now, his chest tight and his throat sore from the tears. He was trembling, small and terrified against the back of his door, and he couldn't stop thinking.

Janus had to go back to school in a week. School, with its crowded areas and unvaccinated people and possible removal of masks. The very thought of it makes his heart jump into his throat, dizzy with terror.

What if one of them had covid, and we just didn't have any symptoms, what if the vaccine doesn't work against the variant, fuck, he's going to get it, maybe he already has it, he's going to die he's going to die he can't breathe-

He suddenly had the image of his own funeral in his head, his boyfriend and his friends and his brother at his own funeral, crying softly and holding each other. He envisioned himself in the afterlife, waiting for them, watching Remus suffer alone because he wasn't there-

And that horrifying image in his head is what turned his soft crying into desperate sobs, shaking and pulling his hair so tight it stung. 

And that's also when he finally registered the frantic knocking on the door, how long has that been going on? and Remus's panicked voice coming from the other side.

"Jan? Baby, I can hear you crying, fuck, are you hurt? If you want me to fuck off, tell me, but- Oh, Jay, please answer, even a knock, just let me know if you're alright-"

Janus reached with trembling hands to unlock the door, even as his mind went no don't he could be sick, and he quickly moved away from the door a little so Remus wouldn't smack him in the face with the door when he came bursting in.

And burst in he did. In a flurry of motion, Remus quickly came in and shut the door behind him, then sat on the floor with panicked, worried eyes looking at Janus.

"Janus? Can you- fuck, I'm not good at this- can I touch you?"

Somewhere, in the back behind the panic, Janus found his stumbling endearing.

Janus debated for half a second, social distance 6 feet apart you'll die you'll die you'll die, before crumbling to his desire to be held.

"Pl- Please, hold me, I- I can't-" Janus's voice came out absolutely pathetic, broken up in sobs and small and trembling, but Remus paid it no mind. He quickly scooped up Janus in his arms, and Janus held onto him for dear life, like he'll be swept away if he doesn't. He cries so hard he's almost heaving, shaking like a leaf in Remus's strong, tattooed arms.

Oh, Remus, make it go away, He thought, and then cried harder because what a childish thing to think.

"Shh, shh, you're alright, I've got you. Can you breathe with me, darling? In and out, you're okay," Remus's voice was calm and soothing, the panic deliberately gone from his voice, probably to not make him feel worse. He breathed in deeply, over exaggerating his breaths so that Janus could follow along.

Janus tried to follow the rhythm, hiccupping through his tears. He stumbled a few times, and it took a bit, but he eventually was able to settle his breathing. His tears had started to slow, and he suddenly felt overwhelmingly childish. 

He just had a breakdown over something so stupid. It's not like he's the only one affected by covid, they're in a fucking pandemic, and he has no right to panic when he's not even sick. He's fine. 

Janus and Remus had only been together for a few months, so Remus hadn't seen this side of Janus yet. This was sure to make him leave. Fuck, he's so stupid.

"There you are, baby," Remus crooned with a soothing voice, and Janus flushed despite himself. Remus wiped away one of his lingering tears, his palm cupping Janus's cheek, and Janus leaned into the warmth, suddenly exhausted. He felt boneless and hollowed out inside of Remus's arms, like his limbs were made of lead.

"I'm sorry," Janus croaked, and Remus was shushing him before he could get more words out.

"No, shut up, you're not allowed to apologize for having a panic attack. You have nothing to apologize for." Remus was strong and steady, and Janus opened his eyes that he didn't mean to close. For some reason, he wanted to deny that what just happened was a panic attack. "You're okay, love, we're okay."

Janus gave a small laugh in spite of himself, and Remus huffed, indignant. "What?"

"Nothing, just- you use a l- lot more cutesy nicknames when you're calming me down." Janus noted, and Remus puffed up like a peacock, but he was smiling. 

"Would you rather I use my normal names? J-anus? Two Dicks? Hot ass? Da-"

Janus cut him off with laughter and a smack to the arm, "Shut up, you awful man, that wasn't an invitation-" 

Remus was laughing too, grin blinding. When they both stopped laughing, they just sat there for a while in comfortable silence. Remus traced the vitiligo patches on Janus's back through the clothes (Janus flushed at the fact that Remus just knew where they were) and Janus traced the tattoos on Remus's brown skin.

After several long, quiet moments, Remus's quiet voice broke the silence. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Instantly, Janus went tense, before shaking his head no. He couldn't explain it without sounding stupid, and he didn't want Remus to leave.

Besides, there was nothing Remus could truly say that he hasn't heard before. 

Nothing will make it go away.

Remus nodded, content with not pushing. "Well, I say we move the cuddling to the bed and not the floor, how does that sound?"

Before Janus could respond, Remus just scooped him up, effortlessly in the air. Janus squeaked and held onto Remus before Remus just dumped him down unceremoniously onto the bed, bouncing a little on the springs. 

Remus laid down on his back, and Janus immediately crawled to him and curled up next to him, laying his head on Remus's chest and Remus wrapping an arm around him.

"Nap time," Janus mumbled into Remus's shirt. Janus felt more than heard him chuckle.

"Well, if the king says it's nap time, then I have no choice but to obey." Janus swatted at him lazily, and he couldn't see it, but he bet Remus grinned. Remus laid a quick kiss to his temple and his heart swelled.

The worry still pricked in the back of Janus's mind. He was sure that later, he was going to freak out over this moment, that the sudden contact made him contract an illness.

But right now, at this moment, he's fine. He's with his boyfriend, and his other friends and his brother are in the house somewhere too, no doubt worried about Janus. They're all vaccinated, healthy, and safe. 

I'm okay, he thought, the thought not panic induced this time, and fell asleep next to Remus, and dreamt of nothing but warmth.

[ashdoesfandomarchieved]

I hear you like prompts? Well I am well known for. The List. *unrolls scroll* sick fic, jealousy, fighting suitors, hostage situation, hypothermia, use of safe word, spa day, ruddiger v Hugo

AO3

It’s midday by the time Hugo finally deems his companions worthy of his company.

They’ve been staying at a small estate in Galcrest, with some friends of Nuru’s family who were kind enough to put them up for the weekend.

The last few trials have been grueling--if Varian’s being completely honest--what with the cave of mirrors and the hall of memories haunting Nuru’s nights and Yong’s smiles and Varian’s everything. So a break in what their gang was affectionately nicknaming “the air kingdom” seemed in order.

The first few days go by fine--Nuru drags Hugo out to the marketplace, talking shop about swords and armory to her heart's content, while Varian and Yong scour the countryside and set off fireworks in the clear skies.

It’s exactly what their group needs to get back on track--a little rest and a lot of free time to relax and get to know one another better.

Then Hugo shows up for breakfast one morning and all of Varians’ optimism flies out the window.

“Whoa, are you sick?” Yong says, popping his head out of the pantry. “You look terrible.”

Hugo sends him an irritated glance. “No,” he says and then immediately sneezes. “I’m not sick,” he says, peevishly when they all continue staring at him in silence. His voice sounds like he’s been gargling rocks.

Nuru places a hand on his flushed forehead that he immediately swats off. “You’re burning up,” she says with a frown. “Did you leave your window open last night?”

“More likely that he got it from town,” Varian mutters. He seems to remember a kindly merchant lamenting about his daughter coming down with a spring cold. Dammit Hugo.

“I’m going to heat up some soup,” Yong says decisively, already making a bee-line for the cupboards.

“I don’t need soup.” Hugo literally cannot sound any more like a sulky pre-teen right now. “What I need is for you all to stop ganging up on me.”

“What you need is a doctor,” Nuru mutters.

Hugo turns his scowl on her.

“How about this,” Varian says, once again playing diplomat between his two best friends, “Hugo eats the soup, and Nuru doesn’t make him see a doctor.

Hugo and Nuru continue to eye each other for a moment before Hugo mutters out an annoyed “fine.”

Varian has a feeling that today is going to be an exercise in not dumping his best friends.

____

About three hours into the “Hugo is pretending that he’s not sick” fiasco, Nuru has decided she’s had enough.

“I’m taking Yong to town,” she says, wrapping a scarf around the younger boy. “If the idiot won’t see a doctor, than I’m at least going to get him some medicine.”

Varian, who was the person who had to deal with Hugo throwing up in the bathroom half the afternoon, privately agrees.

“Is there anything I should do?” he asks, not exactly sure what to do with sick people. His dad never got sick and Rapunzel had about a million physicians taking care of her whenever she contracted some illness or another.

“Try and keep him in bed. I also left some tea leaves in the kitchen, if he feels up to drinking anything.” Nuru adds, halfway out the door. “I know you want to kill him most of the time, but it would be most inconvenient to hide his body.”

Varian rolls his eyes. “I’ll do my best,” he says, dryly.

He doesn’t actually plan to antagonize Hugo--let alone kill him. Despite the fact that the blond still manages to annoy him on a daily basis, he’s also kinda friends with the guy now.

They’ve fallen into an easy companionship with mutual banter and annoyed antics that usually have their friends up in arms, but it works for them.

Besides, the guy just looked far too pathetic, dry heaving in the sink this morning, to give him a hard time.

A few minutes after Nuru and Yong leave, Varian makes his way to the room Hugo is staying in. At first glance, the place appears empty--bed unmade, small sitting area absent of life--but after a quick scan of the large room, Varian finds him.

Hugo sits on the window seat. His legs are drawn up under him and his head rests against the wall. The breeze filtering through the open window brushes his hair back from his forehead and makes the open collar of his white, unbuttoned shirt, fluttering slightly.

Something about the sight of him--flushed, exhausted, unguarded--twists something in Varian’s stomach.

“Hey,” he says, voice cracking too loudly in the quiet.

Hugo doesn’t turn his head, but his shoulder inch up slightly. “Hey,” he says back, eyes glued to something outside the window.

Varians’ eyes narrow in on the gooseflesh raised on the skin of his neck. With a sigh, he snatches a blanket off the bed and goes to Hugo, draping it over his shoulders.

Hugo turns his head at that, blinking up at him owlishly through round glasses. “Oh,” he says, like he’s just noticing Varian’s here. Which is concerning. “Thanks.”

Varian shrugs a shoulder, throwing himself on the other side of the window seat. It’s a large enough space--or maybe Varian’s just short--for the two of them to sit without touching. Not that Varian’s thinking of touching him.

An uneasy silence--on Varian’s part, at least--falls over them as Hugo continues to stare blankly out the window. His usually brilliant green eyes are glazed over, enhancing the flush that’s spread from his face, down his to his neck.

He sniffs a couple of times, nose wrinkling.

“Nuru wants you to drink some tea, I think,” Varian says, tapping his fingers against his knee nervously. “I can go get some for you if you wa-”

“It’s fine.” Hugo’s voice carries no intonation. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” Varian says, in a very measured voice. The last thing he wants to do is upset the guy right now.

Hugo’s eyes shut. His lips press together tightly, but not out of anger. He looks like he’s just barely holding it together, and Varian doesn’t understand why.

Or, maybe he does. Varian used to be very open and free with his emotions, but over the past few years--since everything in Corona with his dad, the amber, Cass--Varian has gotten used to putting up shields around his heart. Vulnerability was a very scary thing, especially with those you cared about.

Hugo didn’t seem to be the type of person who liked to show weakness.

A particularly chilling breeze brushes through the window. It’s enough that even Varian is shivering at it’s touch.

He reaches out slowly and gently pulls the blanket around Hugo tighter. Hugo’s eyes open at that, watching Varian with an unreadable emotion.

“I think you should lie down,” Varian says.

Hugo shakes his head. “Can’t.”

“Hugo-”

“The bed’s too soft,” Hugo exhales, sounding embarrassed.

Something in Varian’s stomach twists painfully. The year after prison hadn’t been easy, but most of it was just getting used to being able to walk around without having the entirety of Corona’s military breathing down your neck. The other half was getting used to how soft his threadbare bed in Olde Corona felt.

Varian gets it. He doesn’t know Hugo’s story yet, but he gets it.

“Lie down here then,” he coaxes, one hand coming up to cup his neck. It’s warm--too warm. The worry simmering in Varian’s gut flares.

“What, on you?” Hugo snorts, sounding--if for a moment--a bit like himself.

Varian feels his own face flush about as badly as Hugo’s face is right now. “Would it make you feel more comfortable?” he asks, voice pitching up high.

Hugo’s stares at him hazily, the fever most likely getting in the way of his higher processing powers. “Yeah,” he says, looking not quite all there. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

And then he flops face first into Varian’s lap.

Varian lets out a surprised laugh, one hand going to his hair. “Okay then,” he says, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart.

“Mmphf.”

Varian snorts, coaxing Hugo into rolling over so that he can at least breathe. “Why do I put up with you?” he mutters, more amused than exasperated for once.

Hugo blinks a couple of times at him. “It’s weird,” he says at last. “You’re weird. I’ve never had someone who’s wanted to put up with me before.”

Varian’s hopes Hugo can’t tell his heart just shattered into about a million pieces. “Well, you do now,” he says, easing Hugo’s glasses off his face and delicately placing them on the nearby end table. “You have three people, in fact, who are willing to put up with your dumb ass.”

The blond squints up at him. “But you were first. That’s-” he gestures gracelessly with one hand, “-that’s important.”

Varian smooths his hair back from his forehead, mentally taking note of the amount of heat coming off his flushed skin. “Yeah?”

“Mmm.” Hugo’s eyes close. “You keep doing that. Surprising me.”

“Well someone has to knock your ego down a few notches.”

A ghost of a grin. His eyes open again, almost as if he’s worried Varian has left in the few seconds he stopped looking.

“Hugo, go to sleep,” Varian chides. He runs his fingers through Hugo’s hair again, hoping it will draw him into sleep. “I can continue to surprise you tomorrow.”

“You’re surprising me now,” Hugo mumbles, but he’s becoming more and more pliant with each pet of Varian’s fingers through his hair. “Don’t go anywhere, ‘kay?”

Varian swallows. “I’ll be right here when you wake up,” he promises. “Now go to sleep.”

Hugo’s eyes finally drop shut, breath evening out. Varian leans back against the wall, one hand in the blond’s hair. The weight of the other boy is both grounding and sends strange flutterings to Varian’s stomach that he doesn’t understand.

Hugo lets out a small snore in his sleep. It’s adorable. Hugo’s adorable, Varian realizes, much to his horror.

Another breezes brushes in through the window, setting the white, transparent curtains afloat in the air. Hugo shivers slightly, curling up closer around Varian.

His face is pressed somewhere between his thigh and stomach, one arm wrapped loosely around his torso. Varian runs his fingers through Hugo’s soft hair again and comes to two realizations simultaneously.

Varian has feelings for Hugo. Positive feelings. Fluffy, mushy, fluttering feelings that reside somewhere between his aching heart and the butterflies in his stomach and Varian wants to cry or throw up or maybe kiss the dumb blond until those feelings settle themselves.

Hugo might--a very, very tentative might, because Varian isn’t great at reading other people at the best of times--just might have feelings for Varian. Maybe.

That’s important, he had said, eyes glazed, pupils dilated, lips parted. You keep doing that. Surprising me.

Varian shuts his eyes. Yeah, he’s totally and utterly fucked.

[twink-appreciation-posts]

Absolutely Not - Spencer Reid x Reader

chapter eight of “all bets are off”

do i sense some… possesive undertones coming from doctor reid? whatever. it doesn’t matter. you’re done with him anyway. it’s over.

warnings: SMUT, public sex, unprofessionalism, bondage, daddy kink, degradation, POSSESIVE sex

“Good morning, agents.”

“Hotch… too loud.” You mumbled.

“I agree.” JJ groaned.

You and your party-girls from the previous night were huddled around the coffee machine, grumbling about your hangovers.

“Why did we do that on a Sunday?” Emily asked, pouring herself a cup.

“Because we’re all masochists.” You replied weakly. Your morning had been miserable. You woke up with a pounding headache and you had to put on about a pound of makeup on your neck and chest again.

“Hey guys!” Spencer approached. You saw JJ glance at him quickly.

“Spence. About last night.. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten that drunk.” She apologized quietly. He shook his head and smiled.

“I already told you JJ, it’s okay. I was more than happy to get you home.” They exchanged smiles and JJ walked away, the rest of the woman following close behind.

“So, you making a habit of going to your female coworker’s houses late at night now?” You asked him. He seemed taken aback.

“What? No. What? Is that how you think of me? I didn’t- I wouldn’t take advantage of her, she was drunk-“ he began explaining frantically.

You felt bad, quickly explaining. “No, Spencer, it’s okay. I know, I know. I was joking. It was nice of you to take her home.” You assured him.

“Good. I don’t… I don’t want you to see me like that.” He sighed. “What did you do after I left?” He asked, moving on.

“Fucked a guy in the bathroom.” You said nonchalantly, testing him.

“Oh, I’m sure you did. Don’t think I don’t remember what you said last night.” He warned.

You found yourself falling into the trap again. Witty banter that would end with you pinned up against some surface and calling him daddy. Nope. Not this time.

“I really can’t recall. I was drunk, remember?” You shrugged, walking away before the situation could get any worse. He didn’t stop you, you noticed, as you made your way to your desk.

“What did you all do last night? You’re walking around like zombies,” Hotch asked you as you passed by him.

“Drank too much.” You sighed.

“And where was my invite?” Derek piped up.

You threw your hands up, a show of innocence. “Don’t ask me, ask your lover Garcia. She made the plans, I was just told to show up.” Spencer was back at his desk now, watching you. “Kid genius over here got an invite, though.” You directed Derek’s attention his way.

Derek walked towards him, giving you the freedom to finally take a seat at your desk. You spaced out almost immediately, mind wandering. What would have been said if you hadn’t walked away from Spencer? Did anything at all happen when he left the bar with JJ? And why the fuck did you give a shit? Self-reminder: you’re trying to let this go, not linger on it for the entirety of the foreseeable future. You were so busy scolding yourself in your head you didn’t realize that a box had been dumped onto your desk. Speak of the devil.

“What’s all this, Spencer?” You asked.

“Files.” He explained. “Files that I think need organizing.”

You looked at him quizzically. “I don’t think that organizing random files is a part of my job,” You stuck your hand into the box. “…This box is empty.” You stared at him blankly. He feigned surprise, causing you to roll your eyes.

He placed a hand on your desk, leaning over, his voice low and quiet. “In 10 minutes Hotch is going to have a meeting with Derek and Prentiss, I overheard them talking about it. JJ and Garcia will be in Garcia’s den going over the info for one of our old cases to make sure there’s nothing they’re missing to help the prosecutor of the unsub. Where do you think we should go?” You narrowed your eyes at him. If he thought he was going to get you to do… this with him again, especially at work, he must’ve been out of his mind. “You want me to choose? That’s fine. I’ll see you in the storage room.”

“No.” You said simply. “Not happening. No Bueno. Nada.”

He exhaled sharply, breath fanning out over the back of your neck. “See you in 10, agent.”

You were making a bad decision. You knew that. So why, then, were you walking towards the storage room when you noticed the bullpen was almost completely empty. Why did you knock on the door? Why did you open it and walk inside when you realized no one was there. Was this a prank? The only things in the room were boxes upon boxes of files and an old desk. Why were you here again? You stood there, confused, until the door opened. Spencer was already tugging the tie around his neck off, meeting your eyes. “You came.” He didn’t sound surprised. You wished he would’ve at least sounded a bit surprised.

“I wanted to know what the fuck you were going on about.” You replied as nonchalantly as possible.

“Strip.”

You froze.

“Y/n you knew exactly what was going to happen when you came here. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

There it was again. The warmth. The innate desire to please him, to follow orders.

“I can do it for you, but I can’t promise your clothes will be in perfect condition when we walk out of here.” His tie was off now. He held it in one hand, the other running through his hair as he observed you. You moved to pull off your shirt, dropping it to the floor. He hummed in approval.

“Good girl.”

You quickened your pace a bit, sensing his impatience, until you were shamefully exposed. Goosebumps rose upon your skin, the cold air a sharp contrast to the heat of your body.

“Look how quickly you give in. You’ve always been eager to please, though.” His eyes were raking up and down your body.

“How is it fair that I’m like.. this. And you get to be fully clothed?” You groaned, embarrassment growing. You should have never walked into the storage room.

“Patience, baby.” He chuckled, a hand moving to undo his belt. “You wanna know how I knew you’d come?”

You nodded.

“Because as much as you try to fight it but your body already knows who you belong to. Already knows that you need me, regardless of how hard you try to ignore it.” Fuck. Fuck. What if he was right? Was he right? Were you just braindead and horny at all times? “Come here.”

You approached him. You were already naked, what point was there in arguing now? You could resent yourself and your actions at a later date. He ran a hand over your body, tracing the outline of your skin. He was breathing heavily, a contrast to how calm and collected he looked on the outside.

“Turn around and give me your wrists.”

When you didn’t reply immediately he opted to grab your waist and spin you around. You were pressed against him now, feeling how hard he was through his pants. “Now for these,” he took your wrists in one hand and you heard the clank of his belt moving around and then, suddenly, the rough texture of leather wrapping around your wrists.

“O-Oh my god, Spencer, what are you doing?” Your face had turned bright red and you were actually kind of thankful that he had turned you so you weren’t facing him.

The leather tightened. You tried to flex against the restraints, testing them, but your hands were now held firmly in place. “You can turn back around now,” he sounded proud of himself. You hated it.

You faced him, hands tied behind your back, and watched with shaky breath as he pulled down his pants. “Why don’t you apologize for saying no to me earlier?” He suggested.

“You wish.” you grumbled, refusing to give in that easily.

“I’m sorry, which one of us is naked and tied up right now? I don’t have to make this easy for you. If you want me to fuck the attitude out of you again I certainly will." 

You gulped. “H-How can I apologize, sir?”

Spencer bit his lip harshly. Maybe he wasn’t expecting that response, but honestly neither were you. "I think you already know how.” He replied, brushing your hair out of your face.

You sunk to your knees, the rough floor already feeling uncomfortable, but you persevered. He stepped forward, a hand immediately rest on top of your head, blunt nails digging into your scalp. You leaned forward, taking him into your mouth slowly. He leaned his head back, exhaling through gritted teeth. Your eyes were glued to him, looking up through your lashes, and you could feel the need inside of you grow. How did he manage to look so fucking good? You found it hard to control yourself considering you had absolutely no use of your hands or arms, but that didn’t bother Spencer. He pushed you forward a bit and you gasped, coughing a bit. You heard him chuckle. You started bobbing your head, your tongue moving in synch. He was still guiding you, gently rocking his hips to meet your movements. Your eyes watered as he began to speed up, though, pressing your face pressing against his skin with each push of his head and thrust of his hips. “Look at you, all tied up and pathetic,” he breathed out. “Is there any question who owns you? You don’t care when or how, you let me use your body without question.” You were struggling to breathe, tears falling down your cheeks, but you didn’t care. Your only thoughts were of Spencer. Pleasing him. Earning his praise. “As much as I’d love to cum in that pretty little mouth of yours, I think I’d rather watch you beg for me.” He slowed down a bit, eventually releasing you from his grip. You almost fell over, losing your balance as you sputtered and gasped. He helped you up, running a thumb over your swollen bottom lip. “Do you want daddy to fuck you?” He asked.

“Yes, please, daddy.” You replied quickly, obediently. He let out a satisfied hum. “We’re still at work, I’ll have to keep you quiet.” He leaned down, picking up his tie from the ground. “Open.” You coyly opened your mouth and he brushed his thumb over your cheek soothingly, shoving the fabric into your mouth. He did it so gently that you almost forgot that he was about to fuck you in the storage room of an FBI office building. “Look at you, actually learning how to do what daddy says.” He turned you around once again and began to push you a bit, walking you towards the abandoned desk, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and leaving butterfly kisses down your jawline. His finger trailed between your legs. His thumb played at your clit, running torturously slow circles, and he kept at this for a bit, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, reminding you of your place. Slowly but surely you could feel your climax approaching, but when your moans started becoming louder from behind the fabric he stopped. You tried to turn your head to look back at him but you didn’t have a chance.

“Now you’re gonna be a good girl and take it.” The gentleness of his voice dissipated and he bent you down onto the desk, the cool surface prickling your warm skin. You mumbled against the fabric in your mouth, pleading. He paused, considering, and without warning, he pushed himself inside of you with a low groan. You let out a muffled cry, body trying to refamiliarize itself with the feeling of being so full. You were moaning, spit dribbling down from around the fabric of his tie. “God, fuck, I missed this,” Spencer said through a strained whisper. He fucked you fast, a bruising grip on your hips, and you couldn’t do a single thing but lay there as he did. Eventually, he moved his hand up to your lower back, pressing you further down onto the desk, your face shoved into the smooth wood surface. “You told them last night that I wasn’t your best, huh? Well, I guess I’ll just have to fuck you so hard that I ruin you for anyone else.” He was speaking a bit too loud now, you feared, but there was nothing you could do to indicate that to him. You could only let out muffled sounds of pleasure as he thrusted in and out of you. Your legs were starting to shake, they were still a little bit sore from the weekend, but you were already feeling yourself get too lost in your pleasure to care about the aches and pains. “Who else could fuck you this well, huh?” You couldn’t see his face but he sounded almost angry. “Who else could satisfy a slut like yourself? You need this. You need me to fuck you.” He was too loud. Too fucking loud. And you knew it, but you could barely bother to care. He was fucking you so well you didn’t care if the whole FBI heard you. “You’re so fucking perfect, so hot, especially like this, so helpless, so easy to control.” You were so close, moaning, wishing you could see how good Spencer looked while absolutely ravishing you against the desk. He was close too, you could tell because his movements were once again becoming more erratic. He grabbed the end of the belt that was restraining your wrists, tugging on it hard enough to force you into an upright position, back pressed against his chest. You mewled in pain but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” He growled onto the skin of your neck. You nodded frantically. The hand that wasn’t holding you up by your restraints came from behind, wrapping around your neck and squeezing your pulse. Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull, the only sound that you could focus on being the sound of skin meeting skin. “Cum for me, then. Cum for daddy.” You couldn’t speak before, but with Spencer’s hand around your neck, you could barely make a noise either. Your legs shook as you came, feeling Spencer do the same not too long afterward. His grip around your throat loosened and he gently pulled the tie out of your mouth as pulled out of you. You gasped for air, still suspended in the upright position he was holding you in. After allowing you to breathe he carefully pulled you off of the desk, standing you up straight and undoing the belt wrapped around your wrists. They were sore and you rubbed them gently, meeting his eyes.

“You were loud,” you breathed out, voice hoarse. “What if someone heard?”

He zipped up his pants and wiped the sweat from his forehead, pocketing his tie which has been rendered unwearable.

“No one heard.” He reassured you and you followed suit and redressed.

“I can’t believe that you… that we…” You stared at him, emotions taking hold, and you felt your eyes water.

He noticed, eyes widening in panic. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He asked quickly.

“No, no. I’m fine. I’m fine. Just… randomly feeling emotional.” You dismissed him, eyes directed at the floor.

“Oh. Don’t feel bad, that’s actually quite common. It’s called post-coital dysphoria, or PCD. It’s when you experience intense emotions like sadness or melancholy after sex. It’ll go away in a few minutes.”

There he was, always ready to tell you exactly what was wrong. It was nice to know it was normal, you guessed, but you wished you could’ve gotten some actual sympathy. Oh well. It would be gone in a few minutes, right?

“One of us should probably leave first, you know? Stagger our arrivals.” Spencer suggested. You nodded. “I’ll go first. I’m gonna head to the bathrooms.”

Spencer gave you a small smile and wave as you exited. You made your way to the bathroom, and as you passed by the main office-space you noticed Hotch in a room with Derek and Emily. Thank god, at the very least they hadn’t heard you. You scurried to the bathroom, walking inside to see Garcia.

“Hey babycakes!” She grinned. “You look like you’ve been through a wind tunnel,” she noticed. You laughed. “Long day. Hangovers are a bitch.” You ran into a stall and waited until she left the bathroom to use the mirror and fix yourself the best you could. You smoothed your hair and clothes out, readjusting your lipstick and wiping the running mascara from under your eyes. When you left the bathroom you saw Spencer returning to his desk, his hair still attractively tousled. Suddenly you watched Rossi approach Spencer, and his eyes widened. Oh fuck. Wait. Had Rossi been unaccounted for this whole time? Anxiety coursed through your veins as you walked past the pair, who seemed to go silent as you came into view.

Fuck. Fuck. You were fucked. And not in a good way. In the absolute worst way. You didn’t know what you would do if anyone on the team knew what had happened, but Rossi finding out was for some reason especially embarrassing. He was like a father figure to you. A cool Italian father figure. And now he potentially knew that you were having rough sex at work with your colleague. Great. Fan-fucking-tastic.

All praise Spencer Reid, king of ruining your life.

taglist <3

@101donuts @annestine @spideyboix @babybloomer @welcome-to-hoeville @eldahae @brokenanxiety @andiebeaword @spencerwaltergubler @la-vie-en-amour1 @rainsong01 @taekwinkle @dreamer7black @guessthatswhyiliveinhell @creepingfromthecorners @joyousreid

[jawritter]

Elf

Summary: Maybe being stuck at home for Christmas with Dean during a snow storm, isn’t so bad after all. 

Warnings: Light Smut, unprotected smut, language, fluff. That’s about it really. 

Word Count: 2814

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Prompt: Elt

A/N: This fic was written for @janicho88 100 follower Christmas Celebration! Congratulation on the new milestone hun! This fic was also beta’d by the lovely @miss-neard95!! Thanks so much love!! As always please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! I hope you all enjoy this one! We need a little Christmas in September! I mean hey? Why not? LOL 

 Want more? Check out my Masterlist, or become a patreon for exclusive fics!

***MASTERLIST***              ***BECOME A PATREON***

You shivered as a cold draft of air blew into the Bunker behind you, Dean closing the door as quickly as he could with his hands full of groceries. 

It had been snowing for three solid days now, and there were no signs of letting up any time soon. Dean was convinced that this was how the world was going to end - you were all going to freeze to death. He hated the cold, hated the snow, and more than that, he hated the holidays that usually came with this kind of weather. 

You and Dean made your way towards the kitchen with this week’s supplies, as well as the next in your hands. Normally you would only buy enough for a couple of days, but since the weather conditions only seemed to worsen, you figured it might be best to stay hunkered down for a little while. 

You dumped the bags down on the counter, Dean mimicking your actions,  before the both of you shrugged out of your coats, throwing them down over the table in the corner with a huff as you looked at the sprawling display of things in front of you that needed to be put away.

“Okay,” Dean said, warming his hands by blowing on them and rubbing them together as his piercing green eyes scanned the items on the countertop. “You put away the freezer stuff, and I’ll clear up everything else except your lady products.”

A wicked smirk tugged on your lips as you grabbed the box of Tampons out of the bag, waving them around in front of his face in a  manner that you knew was childish, but Dean seemed to bring out the brat in you. 

“You mean these lady products, Dean?” You asked, giving him a cheeky smile that could make the Cheshire Cat jealous. 

Dean's wrinkled nose with his lips in a grimace was the cutest look of disgust you had ever seen, not that his perfect face wasn't a factor, swatting your hand away like you were holding something revolting.

“Yes, that. Now come on, I want to get out of these jeans, and change into something warmer.” He turned his back to you in mock annoyance as you placed the tampons back on the counter with a chuckle, and started putting the frozen foods away.

It was quiet in the Bunker for the most part. Sam was snowed in at Jody’s when he’d gone up there last week to work on a case with the girls, and that just left Dean and you alone in the Bunker for the foreseeable future-or at least until the snow melted enough for Sam to make it home. 

Cas and Jack were on some sort of 'Angel business' and neither of you, dared asking exactly what that was. Some things you were just better off not knowing until there was no way to ignore them.

Christmas was two days away, and while Dean never really made a big deal about the holidays, you always enjoyed celebrating them. It was the only thing you ever looked forward to as a kid growing up in the hunting life, something your mother tried to hold on which became a normal for you. It was the only reminiscent of your childhood, and something that you clinged to for comfort.

Once you were done, you saw that Dean was still working, so you grabbed the sanitary products and made your way to your room to change into your fuzzy pajama pants, and one of Dean’s old flannel you had stolen from him when you had first moved into the Bunker.

You didn’t need said lady products right now, but you didn’t want to be trapped here without them either. It sucked to be a female because you had to make sure you were prepared for these types of situations, hunter or otherwise. You never knew when you were going to need them, but it was usually at the most inconvenient moments of your life.

You smiled as you made your way from the bathroom after stashing the box away to your bedroom to change, thinking about Dean’s adorably childish reaction to you messing with him in the kitchen just now. 

You knew he was just playing with you. Dean wasn’t bothered by something as small as a box of tampons, but he did love to get a rise out of you and did seem to enjoy the attention of any form he could get. 

So he liked to be playfully grumpy with you, knowing you thought it was more than a little cute.

You were just finishing up throwing your hair into a messy bun when you heard a soft knock on the door and turned around to see a very confused Dean, holding a DVD case in his hand. 

“Y/N, what’s this?” He asked, holding up the new Elf DVD that you had just purchased while on the supply run to watch later tonight after Dean went to bed. 

“Whatever it is, it's mine!” You snatched the DVD from his hand. 

A smirk settled deeply on his handsome features as he strutted his way through the door towards you. Your eyes took him in, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and his  tightly fitted T-Shirt did very little to hide his well toned chest and shoulders. 

“Elf? Really Y/N/N, I took you to be more of a 50 Shades type of girl,” Dean said, flopping down on his stomach across your bed, his elbows bent with his smug face resting in his hands. He’d obviously found a way to get back at you for the little teasing back in the kitchen, and you just knew that he wasn't going to let you brush him off that easy.

There had always been an undeniable sexual tension between you two, but neither of you ever acknowledged it. No, you weren’t dating, you weren’t friends with benefits, you were literally just friends. But that didn’t stop you from enjoying the view of the curve of his ass as he laid strewn across your bed.

Maybe you were more of a 50 Shades girl, but he didn’t need to know that. You liked the friendship between the two of you. He was the greatest thing that ever happened to you. He was your best friend, your rock, the person you went to when you needed someone to lean on. You couldn’t fuck that up just because you had feelings for him, there was no way that was ever gonna happen. 

“Well Dean, we can’t be all kinky all the time, sometimes you need something a little vanilla,” you answered his question with a suggestive wink in order to keep up the banter that he’d started, but when you turned to look at him, your hair fell out.

Dean sat up cross legged in the middle of your bed when you huffed looking in the mirror, watching you as you started fixing your hair again with an unreadable look on his face. 

“Well, let’s watch it,” he said with a shrug. 

You turned on the spot and stared at Dean like he’d popped out a second head. 

“What?”

“Let’s watch it.” 

“You wanna watch Elf? You feeling okay, Dean?” 

Dean’s eyes narrowed at that, sticking his tongue out at you before jumping off of the bed and grabbing the DVD from your hands.

“ Dean Cave. Fifteen minutes.” He yelled over his shoulder, and you watched his retreating back as he made his way down the hall to start  the movie for the two of you.

Shaking your head you laughed as you made your way to the kitchen to grab a few beers before you walked back to the Dean Cave.

Dean was always full of surprises. Just when you thought you had him figured out, he did something you never would expect. Like agreeing to watch a Christmas movie with you, when you knew he hated Christmas. 

It wasn’t like it was a great mystery why that was. His father didn't exactly qualify for the parent of the year nomination, and Bobby, well he tried, but he wasn’t that into it either. Good family memories just weren’t something Dean had. 

When you stepped in the Dean Cave, Dean had pulled out one of the oversized blankets you kept in the laundry room for nights like this when you would all pile up in here and watch TV, and was waiting for you with the remote in his hand. 

“I brought beer,” you said, holding the two clinking bottles high above your head as you approached the couch. Dean grinned at you before flipping the covers open for you., offering you to sit down beside him.

“I knew there was a reason I kept you around,” Dean said with an impish smirk, his lips grabbing your attention that you wanted to feel on your own. 

You settled comfortably next to him as Dean hit play, throwing his arm around you and tucking you into his side before giving you a chaste kiss on the top of your forehead. It wasn't anything unusual for Dean, but it made your heart flutter in your chest all the same. 

You curled into his chest, laying your head against his shoulder as his arms wrapped tightly around you with your legs on his lap. He felt warm and safe, and you honestly could have given everything you had to stay just like this forever. 

As the credits rolled on the movie, Dean reached over and flipped the TV off, leaving both of you in the dark room with the only light from the hallway peeking in through the cracked door. 

“I have to admit, for a Christmas movie, it wasn’t that bad.” Dean said, wrapping the blankets tighter around the two of you instead of getting up like you had expected him to. 

Dean’s large hand brushed a stray hair away from your face as he held you against him, his face so close to yours, you could feel the warmth of his breath fanning over your skin. 

“See, maybe you should do what I suggest more often,” you fired back, trying to keep the conversation light and ignore his hand that was under the covers slowly creeping its way up your thigh as he laughed. 

“I don’t think so sweetheart. Tomorrow we’re watching Death Race, like it or not.”

Even in the darkness of the room Dean’s eyes seemed to sparkle just a little, and the army of butterflies in your stomach started to take flight against you.

You could have sworn he was moving closer to you although it seemed impossible as he held you closer to his large frame. 

“Dean, I don’t know if this is a good idea,” you whispered as his lips came ever so close to your own that they were almost brushing.

He just chuckled in response, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t see the problem, I mean, people already think we’re a couple now.”

Before you could even register what he was saying, Dean’s lips captured yours in a sweet, slow kiss that made your toes curl and your breath hitch in your throat. It didn’t last long, but it was long enough to leave you breathless as he pulled away from you. 

“I know I joke around a lot, but I can be as soft as you need me to be, if you’d give me the chance to show you.”

You could literally feel your heart pounding in your ears as his eyes scanned yours, fear of rejection lingering not far below the surface. 

You don’t know what made you react, you just did. In a spurt of bravery you closed the distance between you, your lips crashing into his as his arms wrap even tighter, pulling your body flush against his. 

You could feel his excitement growing by the prominent bulge that was forming in his sweatpants as his teeth caught your bottom lip, tugging it just hard enough to pull a moan from your lips. 

“Let me show you baby, let me show you what you do to me,” Dean murmured, his hands tracing the skin of your back. 

You had wanted this to happen for so long, that it almost felt like a dream. But one thing was for sure, you weren’t going to push him away anymore. Dean was the kind of person that took things to heart, and if you rejected him, even if it was out of your own fear, you knew you would lose him forever. 

“Then show me, Dean.” You mutter against his lips. 

Not even for one second did Dean break eye contact with you as he pulled your shirt over your head before finding your lips again with his own, dominating your mouth, his hands explored the now exposed skin. You didn’t miss the low growl that came from him when he discovered you’d decided to forgo wearing a bra. His hands slid over your exposed breath before running his thumb over each nipple. His tongue licked into your mouth in a way that made you shiver in his hold. The man was good, and he hadn't even gotten started yet.

His hands wandered to the waistband of your pants and pulled them down in one smooth go, leaving you fully exposed before him.

His eyes travelled shamelessly over your body, his white teeth sinking into his lower lip. 

“You're fucking beautiful, sweetheart,” Dean said, his voice deep and dripping with lust. 

“You’re wearing too many clothes, Winchester,” you purred. 

It took him mere seconds to strip out of his clothes. You noticed that he’d also chosen to go without  his underwear and you couldn't help the smirk forming on your lips. 

He was gorgeous. His well-toned body from a life of hunting and killing monsters hovered over your small frame on the couch you were laying on. His thick length was heavy and dripping against your already wet folds as his lips found your throat, running his teeth lightly over your collar bone before sucking his mark there. 

“I’ve wanted you like this for so fucking long, baby girl,” Dean said between kisses as he rutted on your folds. His blunt tip created just enough friction on your sensitive clit to drive you crazy and want more. 

“Then have me Winchester, what are you waiting for?” You asked him teasingly. 

Dean repositioned his hips, and with one smooth thrust he was fully seated inside of you without warning, his face hidden in the crook of your neck as he panted above you, holding himself still and giving you time to adjust. 

You had never been so full, so stretched as you were right now. It took you a moment before you were able to roll your hips against his, giving him the push he needed to start moving. At first he set a slow, steady pace. Each stroke of his cock against your already clenching walls driving you higher and higher until his tip hit that special spot deep inside of you at which you cried out. 

“Fuck, Dean,” you moaned, before his lips found yours in a deep kiss that was all tongue and teeth. 

You could already feel that familiar coil begin to wind tight in your abdomen with each thrust of his hips. 

Dean could tell you were getting close, and he picked up  a faster, deeper pace, hitting your g-spot directly everytime. 

“Come on baby, I can feel you're close. Let go,” he said breathlessly, his rhythm beginning to falter. 

It was like that was the command your body had been waiting for, and you came with a silent scream as your walls clamped down around him, and his hips locked in place as he spilled his seed deep inside of you, your walls milking every drop his body could give you. 

When you both came back down from your high Dean laid down next to you in the small space, pulling the covers over the two of you and snuggling into you.

You both stayed there in silence for a minute before you finally had the courage to speak. 

“Where does this leave us, Dean?” You asked him as his lips brushed over the exposed skin of your shoulder.

“It means your mine now, baby girl. Merry Christmas,” He said, his voice cocky and he was back to being the Dean you loved so much  

Turning around you swatted him playfully on his arm before settling back into his hold, nuzzling into his chest before letting out a content sigh of your own. 

“Best Christmas present ever,” you tell him before drifting off to sleep in the arms of the man you would always love with your whole heart, but now, he was yours and you, his.

Forever Tags: @deanwanddamons​ @rvgrsbrns​ @bi-danvers0​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @i-love-superhero​ @akshi8278​ @lyss-dw79​ @magssteenkamp​ @lemondropirwin​ @squirrelnotsam​ @hobby27​ @spnbaby-67​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @defenderrosetyler​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @thecreatiivecorner​  @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624​ @busy-bee-angel-misska​ @justanotherwinchester​ @brilovesdeanwinchester​ @idksupernatural​ @lyarr24​ @amandamdiehl​ @love-jackles-37-blog​ @miraclesoflove​ @waywardsistershy​ @emoryhemsworth​ @dean-winchesters-gardian-angel​ @softsebastian​ @tatted-trina6​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @hayleeharling​   @flamencodiva​ @coldmuffinbanditshoe​ @bxbyizzy​ @rain-dance-goblin​ @itmejado​ @supernatural3002​

[anna-justice]

Superman - Part 2

PART 1

Summary: Jay and Hailey are a part of an officer involved shooting, the aftermath puts Hailey in a very dangerous situation, causing her and Jay’s lives to be at risk. (Pre-Established Upstead) 

...

Jay rolled over, groaning as he reached for his phone. He shut the alarm off quickly, turning back over to and reaching across the bed. His hand hit the cold mattress, waking him up. Jay laid flat on his back, running his hand over his face. He groaned again, the pit in his stomach growing at his own stupidity. It was the first time in a week that he had woken up alone, and for a minute he had forgotten that he was back to reality.

He reluctantly threw the covers off, immediately missing the warmth, but it wasn’t quite as warm as it had been the day before. The walk to the kitchen was dark and lonely, Jay squinting as he flipped on the lights as he went. When he reached his small kitchen he sighed, trying not to think about the empty coffee pot. Yesterday it would have been full. He filled the filter and turned it on before turning and heading back to his bedroom. 

He pushed the bathroom door open, ignoring his depressed look in the mirror. He turned on the water in his single stall shower, not taking notice of the lack of products on the rack. Jay ran a hand through his tousled hair, he needed to get himself together.

After the safehouse was broken into, he and Hailey were moved to a new one. They insisted Jay be put in protective custody as well, since he was now a (potential/connected) victim of the hit list. He insisted they be placed together and Hailey didn’t object, the lead detective on their case obliged and soon they were sitting together on a different uncomfortable couch. 

The entire experience was surreal to say the least, it felt like living in an alternate reality. They fell into a routine almost. There was an unspoken agreement between the two of them: they would sleep in the same bed, wake up in each other’s arms, Hailey would make coffee, Jay would make breakfast and neither of them said a word. Why would they? It was easy, it felt natural and it was perfect. 

So, for a week the two of them played house while their team worked on taking down the brotherhood, and most importantly the post that put a bounty on his partner’s head. The day before they had finally caught a break in the case, finding the chain that led to the Kingpin and the owner of the chat. After a long interrogation, they had enough to charge and enough to solve multiple other cold cases in the area, and the post was taken down. 

Once their lives were no longer in danger, Jay and Hailey were released from protective custody and sent home to their own separate houses. Jay drove her back to the bar where it all started, her car was still there. They bid goodbye in the parking lot, Hailey giving him a kind smile before climbing in her car. It felt so wrong after a week of living the way they were. 

The cold water pulled him out of his trance, Jay shivered, shutting it off and reaching for his towel. Soon he was all ready for work, grabbing his keys and high tailing it out of his lonely apartment. He cursed himself for getting so attached, for getting used to their new dynamic. Because nothing had changed, it wasn’t real and now, it was over.

... 

Hailey was already awake when her alarm went off. She was sitting on her couch, a freshly brewed cup of coffee in her hand. She hadn’t slept well the night before. Her insomnia set in at around 3:00 that morning, and she had come to terms with the fact that a good amount of rest was a lost cause. 

She hit the button glowing on the screen, tossing her phone on the coffee table in front of her. For a second she waited for the familiar sound of shuffling feet, but then remembered her lack of sleep. She slept alone last night, or more like didn’t. Before the past week, it had been a long time since she woke up tangled with someone else, but she had no doubt that her return to a normal sleep schedule was a product of just that. 

Hailey stood, padding into her kitchen to get another cup of coffee…

“You good?” Jay asked from his perch on a barstool. If Hailey had a dime for everytime he had asked her that in the past few days, they’d be hiding out on a yacht. 

Hailey nodded, picking up the coffee pot and refilling her mug. “Yeah, why?” She asked, turning around to lean against the counter opposite of him. 

Jay grinned, gesturing to the cup in her hand. “That’s your third cup this morning.” 

“You keeping tabs on my coffee intake?” Hailey teased, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Jay stood, laughing. He made his way to the sink beside her, dropping it in. “Maybe. You don’t need it stunting your growth.”

Hailey’s jaw dropped, a laugh bellowing out of her. She slapped his bicep (taking note of how much her hand stung afterward: damn) as he lept away, he knew what was coming. “You better sleep with one eye open tonight.” Jay held up his hands in surrender, backing away slowly. “I’m serious.”

She leaned against the counter, smiling to herself. That was how the whole week had gone, jokes, banter and lots of cuddling. If there was a line before, it was now so blurred that it might be broken. They were inseparable, you would think that being stuck in a house with someone for a week would make you want to kill each other, but not them. The only time either of them were truly alone was when they were in the bathroom. And even then, the amount of times one of them snuck in to get something while the other one was showering was unreal. 

Hailey cautiously approached the bathroom door, grimacing to herself as she knocked. “Jay.” She called, hand on the handle.

“Yeah.” He shouted over the running water, it was much louder than it needed to be and Hailey chuckled to herself. 

“Can I come in? I need my meds, I left them on the counter.” She asked.

“Sure.” He said. Hailey felt flushed as she pushed the door open, steam filling the bedroom. It clicked behind her and even though there was a curtain covering him, Hailey avoided looking towards the shower at all. She made it to the vanity, rummaging through her toiletry bag and ignoring how red her face was in the mirror. 

There was a thud, the noise of lots of water hitting the shower floor. Hailey’s mind wandered to what could’ve made the noise, the image of him running his hands through his wet hair as water cascaded around him gracing her mind. Hailey wasn’t paying attention, causing her to knock her bag as well as his shaving cream to the floor. “Shit.” She muttered.

“Hailey.” He said, “You good?” He asked, she looked up from her crouching position on the floor to see him poking his head and one shoulder out. She froze, her eyes trained on the droplets of water sitting where freckles normally were.

“Yeah.” She said, jumping up clutching his shaving cream. “Uh, this fell.” 

Jay eyed her funny, “Okay.” Hailey didn’t move. “I’ll be out in a minute.” 

Hailey nodded, “See you then.” She turned and grabbed her medicine, booking it out of there.

She splashed some cold water on her face after brushing her teeth, she needed to snap out of it. Of course, the whole situation was disorienting. She had admitted a long time ago that she had feelings for her partner, or at least she admitted them to herself. And after the week they had, she thought maybe he felt the same way, but he never said anything. He said everything else, they talked so much, they both opened up so much, but he kept his mouth shut about that.

She even gave him a chance. It was a few days in and they were laying in bed. She was facing him, laying on her arm. There were several feet between them, but she could still feel the heat radiating off of him. 

Hailey watched Jay roll onto his back, running his hands over his face. “I’m sorry.” He groaned out, looking at her with a sad look. 

Hailey shifted, leaning on her elbow. “For what?”

Jay sighed, “Dumping all this on you. You didn’t sign up for me complaining about my ex for an hour.” They had both decided they were tired, even if it was only 9:00, but once their heads hit the pillow all they could do was laugh, and they were both wide awake. Teasing had turned to talking, which led to Hailey attentively listening to Jay finally open up about his relationship with Erin. 

She reached out, placing her hand over his as it rested on his stomach. Jay watched her cautiously, noticing as she moved closer to him. “Jay.” She said, “I am here for you. If you ever want to talk, I will always want to listen.” 

He smiled at her, “I know.” He squeezed her hand. “Me too.” 

Hailey rolled onto her back beside him, only turning her head to face them. “I didn’t know any of that.” She confessed, “About Lindsay, I mean. I knew you guys had broken up, but no one ever mentions it.” 

Jay nodded, “Yeah. It’s kind of one of those things we all ignore. It’s been so long.” He turned his head to face her. “You know, nothing good ever comes out of a workplace relationship.” 

Hailey faked a smile, turning away. A week ago she would have agreed with him, she would have just let it go. But laying next to him, feeling what she felt, she couldn’t. “Not always.” She said. “Maybe, if two people are just...right for each other, it doesn’t matter the circumstances.” She took a risk and looked over at him, surprised to find his gaze on her, a small smile on his lips.

“Yeah, maybe.”

Hailey shrugged on her jacket, grabbing her keys off the hook by the door. She gathered her things and headed out the door, and she felt like she was going back in time.

…

Hailey pulled into the parking lot, spotting Jay’s truck immediately (not that she was looking for it). It was odd that he ever beat her there, he must have been having a good morning. She headed inside, hoping to brush past their jem of a desk sergeant. “Hey blondie.” Mission failed.

“Hey serge.” Hailey said, stopping at the base of the stairs. She gave her a pointed look. 

Trudy shrugged, “Oh nothing. Just glad to see you survived a week trapped with chuckles.” She said, smirking. 

Hailey shook her head, before heading up the stairs. “Barely.” She said over her shoulder, which was bullshit, but Trudy didn’t know that. She buzzed herself up, climbing the stairs quickly. It felt good to be back, being off duty was never fun. Her eyes met Jay’s immediately and he gave her a bright smile that she quickly returned. 

“Good to see you Hailey.” Kim said, interrupting their wordless conversation. 

Hailey nodded, “You too, I’m glad to be back.” Kevin looked up from his desk, reaching out and fist bumping her she walked by, while Adam gave her a short wave from the breakroom. “Hey.” she said quietly as she reached her desk, taking a seat in front of her partner.

“Hey.” Jay said, lifting a cup of coffee over their monitors. “Here.” 

Nothing has changed.

Hailey smiled, taking the cup graciously. “Just so you know, this is only my fourth cup today.” 

“Hailey.” Jay said, shaking his head. “You have a problem.”

Hailey laughed, holding a finger to her lips and making a “shhh” sound. A second later, Voight exited his office. “Upton,” He said, “Glad to have you back.” 

“Glad to be back.” She said, settling in her seat. 

Jay watched her, back in her natural habitat. It was strange watching her walk in, it seemed to always be him that was the last one up, but he couldn’t complain. He loved watching her blonde ponytail swing as she walked, he loved watching how naturally she floated through the room. 

They spent the next ten minutes being caught up on the current take home case, this one being a series of drug overdoses. Jay had a CI he thought was connected and had gotten the go ahead from Voight to chase the lead. He was about to tell Hailey, but Adam beat him to it. 

“Hey Hailey.” He called across the room, approaching their desks. 

Hailey looked up, “Yeah.” 

“You remember that warehouse we searched once? Found the kilo of heroin? You called dispatch, do you remember the address?” He asked. 

Hailey nodded. “Yeah.” Adam started again, but Hailey held up a finger and grabbed a sticky note from the corner of her desk. She stood slightly, reaching over Jay’s monitor and grabbing a pen out of his holder. She scribbled down the address and handed it to him. “Go check it out with Kev.” She said. 

Jay smirked, watching Adam thank you and then retreat to his own desk. 

Nothing has changed.

“Wanna go meet a CI with me?” He asked, standing. 

Hailey jumped up immediately, “Of course.” 

…

It was a long day, they chased lead after lead that basically went nowhere. Finally, Voight decided they weren’t getting anywhere and sent everyone home. Hailey collapsed on her couch at almost eleven, debating just sleeping there. She was exhausted. 

The day had been emotionally draining as well, she spent the whole day convincing herself that her and Jay were fine, and while they most definitely were, there was a little voice in the back of her head that was telling her she had ruined everything. She had never felt more insecure in her life. 

Maybe hearing about Erin was part of it. Within’ Intelligence, the only time she was spoken of was when they were all reliving their greatest hits. Like the time they pulled off a drug bust and destroyed an OT pickup or the time she saved Jay from a heavy hitter with only a polypropylene switchblade, she was a total badass. That wasn’t a secret, and Hailey had never felt like she had to live up to her memory. 

But now she knew a different side of her, she knew how deeply Jay had loved her and how much it had destroyed him. How could she ever expect him to put himself on the line like that again, for his partner none-the-less. 

The doorbell rang, pulling her from her thoughts. She smiled as she pushed herself off the couch, there was only one person who would show up this late unannounced. She pulled the door open, immediately meeting his bright green eyes. He held up a pizza box, “I figured you hadn’t eaten.” 

“My hero.” She said, stepping back to let him in. 

Jay laughed, heading straight for the living room. Hailey stopped in the kitchen to grab plates and beers. She made it in time to watch him fall back onto the couch. He sighed dramatically, “I’ve missed you.” He said, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. 

Hailey chuckled, settling in next to him. “Feels good to be home, doesn’t it?” She asked.

Jay flattened his cheek against the couch to look at her. “Yeah.” He wanted to say no, that it felt good to be there, because home was wherever she was, but he kept his mouth shut. He had thought back to their conversation a few nights before many times, he read between all the lines, replayed the words over and over again. And he was almost convinced she was talking about them, but here they were several days later and nothing had changed. 

Had it though? He caught himself today, smiling a little bigger, laughing a little louder, he felt lighter. Like he was riding a high, a Hailey high and he couldn’t complain. 

Hailey stood, grabbing her already empty beer bottle. “You want another?” She asked, heading towards the kitchen. 

“No.” Jay said, “thanks though.” He took a beat. “Actually,” He stood, following her into the other room. “I wanted to talk to you about something-'' He had barely gotten the words out and there was a loud pop, it sounded just like a gunshot.

Before she knew it, Hailey was on the ground on her back, Jay laying on top of her. “This feels familiar.” She said, trying to lighten the mood. Jay looked up at her, fear showing clearly in his eyes. Hailey immediately softened, reaching out on instinct to cup his face. “Jay, it was just a car backfiring.” 

She watched it click, his face contorting from fear to pure panic. Jay scrambled off her, “Sorry, habit.” He said shyly. He wanted to eat his own foot, he had just tackled her to the ground for no reason and she was being so understanding, it felt like his heart was being out of his chest. 

“It’s fine, really.” Hailey said, genuinely. “As far as bad habits go, instinctively saving people’s lives isn’t a terrible one.” 

Jay smirked, “We already established that I’m a superhero.” 

Hailey grimaced, “I was hoping I dreamt that.” 

Jay shook his head, “Nope, it happened.” He stood, holding out a hand for her. “Talk about an ego boost.” 

Hailey took his hand, “Happy to help.” When she was fully standing up, she couldn’t help but notice how close she was to him. She peered up at him, finding that he was already watching her, he squeezed her hand gently, showing he had no intention of letting it go. “What did you want to talk about?” She asked, trying to keep her cool.

Jay’s confident facade cracked and crumbled in front of her. “Uh, nothing. It wasn’t important.” He said, dropping her hand and taking a step backward. 

Hailey groaned internally, she was so sick of this. They always came so close and then one of them would get scared, she couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m right.” She said softly. “I know I am, if two people are right for each other-” She took a breath, no more games, no more riddles. “If two people are as good together as we are, then nothing else matters.” 

Jay looked at her in shock, she was saying everything he was waiting to hear and part of him was mad at himself making her say it first. “We’re really good together.” She sighed out.

“Yeah.” Hailey said, Jay closed the gap between them, capturing her lips with his. Hailey reacted by grabbing his neck and pulling him closer. Jay’s arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her onto the counter. Hailey wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer. 

Jay eventually pulled away, breathless. “Look, you're finally as tall as me.” He said. Hailey rolled her eyes, pushing on his chest, but Jay grabbed her waist, holding her firmly against him. He leaned again, this time kissing her so slow that it was almost painful. 

Hailey bit her lip, “I wish I would have said something a week ago, being trapped in a house together would have been much more interesting.” 

“Yeah.” Jay said, smirking. “You would have been gawking at me from inside the shower instead of outside of it.” 

Hailey blushed, looking down at their intertwined hands. “You’re terrible.” 

“You love it.” He said casually. Hailey’s head snapped up, waiting for him to apologize or back away, she was ready for such a strong word (no matter how much she felt it) to screw this up before it started. Jay caught on, cupping her cheek gently. “Not as much as I love you.” 

Hailey swore she stopped breathing. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

Hailey wasted no time smashing her lips to his, letting her fingers get tangled in his hair. She drug her lips from his to his ear. “I love you too.” Jay grinned against her cheek, pulling her back to his lips. “You wanna try tackling me to the floor again?” She asked, smirking.

“Yes.” He said immediately, pulling her off the counter. Hailey laughed as he lowered them, looks like she wasn’t waking up alone tomorrow and she couldn’t be happier. 

…

A/N: You ask and you shall receive! This one kinda got away from me to be honest, and I have no idea where it fits in the timeline (maybe post new york but pre season 8?), so there’s that. Thanks for reading! <3

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [7]

Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 7.5 OR Chapter 8

➜ Words: 2.7k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

You thought about it over Winter break.   While baking and laying around your dorm room, you’ve come to a self-revelation. You spent only a week in Jungkook’s hometown before coming back for the other two, not wanting to intrude on his family too much, and during that time, you’ve re-discovered a strengthened will. You’ve decided to abandon your unproductive heartache in favour of nurturing a new ambition, a new eagerness to flourish and thrive, and make the most out of your time here.   And Jungkook is surprised to see this fresh enthusiasm.   “You’re here early.” He steps into the kitchen to see you crouched over the counter with notebooks and textbooks sprawled out, already studying at the beginning of the semester.   “I know.” You lift your head to grin at him. “Just thought I’d get a head start. Don’t slack just cause we’re in the same class, Jeon. I won’t always give you notes when you skip.”   He approaches with a small smile. “I’m guessing the rest of your Winter break was good.”   “It was alright. It’s nice to sleep in. How was yours?”   “Lia and Eunbi kept crying when you left. I swear my family likes you more than they like me.”   “Naturally,” you taunt while batting your lashes. “I’m just so likable.”   “Uh-huh.” But that still doesn’t explain why you’re humming and smiling to yourself. It’s only eight in the morning and he wonders where the usual Little Miss Cranky went. “Did something good happen?”   “What do you mean?”   “You’re giggling to yourself.”   “I’m not giggling.” You feign a glare. “I’ve just...found new motivation to work harder. I thought about it a lot and….”   “And?”   “I’m going to get back with Seokjin,” you declare. Jungkook’s eyes are wide and you smile. “I’m going to catch up and become someone worthy of him. Someone he won’t be able to let go. I’m going to work my hardest, so he can be proud of me.”   “Huh.” The boy nods. “Well, good for you.”   “Psh, what’s with the bland response. Listen, you better look out, Jeon. I’m going to make the best portfolio ever to submit at the end of the semester.”   He grins. “Okay.”   You return to your work, finishing up reading the section while humming to yourself.    Jungkook glad you found a new vigour to strive and do your best — but he can’t help feeling unsure of your reasoning. He’s pretty sure that this isn’t it.   //   The lectures and hands-on workshops at the very start of the semester are always the blandest. Introductions are done, course outlines are looked at, and the professor drones on and on about the course’s expectations and what the assignments and examinations will look like. Jungkook isn’t exactly enthused to hear what he’ll have to get done in the coming weeks.   And it’s in this very boredom that he knows he doesn’t need to say anything about your new-found determination. Eventually class will wear you down like it does for everyone, and you’ll become indifferent again. You’ll come to your senses one way or another.   But to his surprise, you’re still very much jolly after classes.   “It hasn’t been one day and classes are already fucking me in the ass,” Taehyung groans.   “Hey, guys!” You plop down with Jungkook beside you. “I missed you. How was Christmas break?”   “It was good.” Hoseok looks up, appearing utterly exhausted with dark circles lining the area beneath his eyes.    Yoongi actively glares at you. “You’re chirpy.”   Much to his dismay, you laugh. If Yoongi was a dog, he’d probably bite you.   Jimin smiles. “Did something good happen, Y/N?”   “Actually, yeah. I just realized some things over the break and I just have more motivation to work hard, you know?”   “Can you give me some of that motivation?” Taehyung groans. “What does it take?”   “A fear of flunking and getting kicked out should be more than enough motivation,” Yoongi deadpans.   “What’s your motivation, Y/N?” Hoseok asks, the corner of his mouth curling.   “I…” You glance at Jungkook, not sure if you should tell them the truth. But after a moment of hesitation, you go for it. There’s nothing to hide. “I’m going to try to get back together with Jin.”   At once, you receive mixed reaction — Jimin goes blank, Taehyung lifts his head off to the table and Hoseok’s brows are raised, lips tight. He’s the one who breaks the silence. “Wow, that’s great, Y/N.”   You grin. “I know, right?”   “How are you going to do that?” Taehyung looks at you. “If I can ask…”   “I’m going to improve myself and become someone he wants, someone worth him.”   “But is it really up for you to decide?” Yoongi asks out of the blue, piping up as he chews some chicken in his cheek. The black-haired man looks at you lazily. “It takes two.”   “Yeah, but I can try, right?” You shrug your shoulders, wearing a small smile.   But Yoongi doesn’t accept what he hears, not in the way you want him to. “He dumped you, didn’t he? What makes you think he’ll want you back?”   “I—”   Taehyung steps in before the situation can escalate. “Yoongi.”   But the tired man ignores him, his eyes piercing, even if he gazes at you languidly. “You think you can change him or change what happened?”   “I love him.” Your eyes are glossy and there’s an overwhelming urge to block out your ears.   Yet Yoongi scoffs. “Okay. So what? Who says you won’t be dumped again?”   “Yoongi, chill it, dude,” Taehyung intervenes and Hoseok is also alert, trying to change the topic to no avail. In the meanwhile, Jimin is caught in the conflict and rendered speechless, but what hurts most is that Jungkook doesn’t defend you. He doesn’t utter a single word of support.   “Is it so bad to want him back?”   “Yeah. If he doesn’t want you back.” He shrugs. “It would be more productive if you get on with your life, got better and showed him what he missed out on. Trying to get back together with him makes you look desperate.”   “I never asked for your opinion, Yoongi.”   “Fair, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t hear what I have to say. Plus, I’m just asking you questions and as of yet, I haven’t heard any answers, Y/N,” Yoongi bites back. It’s not like the friendly banter that you have with Jungkook. What Yoongi says is painful to hear, heavy on your heart. It’s argumentative with intentions to prove himself right, confrontational in a way you’ve always avoided. “Why are you setting yourself up to be hurt again? Don’t you think you deserve better than that?”   The group falls into strained silence. The tension wraps itself around your throat, robbing your breath from your lungs. Nothing is spoken, no one utters a word. They stare at you as if they’re waiting for a response, for your justifications. But they don’t need to hear it — it’ll sound like a broken record.   They’ll never don’t get it — how much you love Seokjin. How much you miss him. How much you want him back in your life. Someone who used to be your best friend, who was your entire world, your person, and how he’s turned into a complete stranger.   “Alright, guys. Let’s just agree to disagree, okay?” Taehyung laughs stiffly, trying to dial it back. But you abruptly stand, grabbing your tray of food.   “Y/N.” Jungkook grabs your arm before you can walk away.   You don’t face him. “I have some stuff to do. Catch you guys later.” After dumping the tray, you walk out of the building before they can see the tears in your eyes. And they watch your backside until you’ve disappeared from the dining center.   “You’ve really done it now,” Hoseok chides Yoongi.   The male shrugs. “Was I wrong? She needed to hear it from someone and apparently I’m the only one willing to be the bad guy.”   //   You continue to march across campus with no destination in mind, merely attempting to find some peace and quiet. You tear open the door to the west wing, sniffling as your breath heaves, and at your hasty pace, you fail to notice another person walking in the opposite direction until your shoulders collide with one another.   “S-Sorry.”   The rounded, short girl regards you with bright eyes, wearing a white apron and jeans. “It’s okay—oh, Y/N, right?”    “Do I….know you?”   “I’m Yoo Aeri. We met each other on orientation day, remember?”   “Oh my god.” It was four months ago, but you can vaguely recall the first person you befriended. You were so happy that you met someone friendly that you told Seokjin right away, even if you forgot to exchange contact information. “I remember now. I’m so sorry I forgot, my mind lately is just…”   She laughs. “Don’t worry about it. I actually switched into the culinary program recently.”   “Oh, really? That’s super cool. I heard it was hard.”   “It is a little, but the Baking and Pastry Arts program is a lot more competitive. I just found it wasn’t for me.”   “I know what you mean. I can get pretty tough.”   Aeri smiles and you realize she’s holding a plastic wrapped plate when she thrusts it towards you. “I’m actually walking around right now to see if someone wants to eat this — It’s seared salmon I made in class, but I made too much. As usual. Do you want to have lunch with me?”   You’ve never had such a proposition before. “I’d love to.”   //   8:12 pm. Jungkook: is the plan still on?   Every so often when Jungkook’s sick of you complaining about the vile food at the dining hall, the both of you go out to grab a bite to eat off-campus. His wallet cries but he has to admit that it’s fun.   Tonight though, you haven’t knocked on his dorm room yet and he hasn’t been in contact with you since lunch. Jungkook wonders passingly if you’ve permanently ghosted him — if so, he doesn’t know why he’s being punished for Yoongi’s actions.   8:14 pm. Y/N: oh yeah sorry 8:14 pm. Y/N: not tonight   The moment he gets the message, his brows shoot to his hairline. Jungkook audibly groans.    You should’ve told him sooner. He can’t get a good meal in the dining center when it closes in just fifteen minutes. But Jungkook wonders if you’re underneath your covers crying, if you’re really that weak willed to be broken down so easily by a few words from Yoongi, but then—   8:16 pm. Y/N: made a new friend   Wow. So you ditched his ass for someone else — now Jungkook has zero sympathy for you.   With the annoyance of a lifetime, he grabs his coat and decides to go out anyways. He doesn’t need you. He can enjoy a perfectly good meal off-campus by himself.   It takes Jungkook fifteen minutes by bus to get to the bustling street. He enters the cozy pizza restaurant down the block that you’ve both gone to a few times and orders takeout. He waits at the front playing a game on his phone to pass the time, hoping he can get home soon and enjoy the food in the comfort of his own bed.   But Jungkook’s ears perk when it catches loud voices that draw his attention. He naturally lifts his head. It’s a mistake.   He can’t even act that he doesn’t know them, that he didn’t see them, not when his eyes connect directly with Jin’s and they look at each other.   Yet, to Jungkook’s surprise, the older man stops with a smile. “Hey!”   The best way to describe his relationship with Seokjin was that they are acquaintances — similar to how he would’ve called you, excluding the recent months. Jungkook knows Jin from high school, saw him in the halls but they seldom spoke to each other. They hear things about one another but that’s the furthest extent of their interactions.   Until now.   “Are you here alone?”   “Yeah I’m just grabbing some takeout.” Jungkook awkwardly hitches a thumb over his shoulder.   Seokjin nods, plump lips naturally pouted. “Were you in the area?”   “Not really. I came from school.”   “Oh, that’s actually pretty far. I’m surprised you didn’t just do delivery.”   Jungkook’s doe eyes double. He feels like an idiot. “Oh shit, actually?! I didn’t know they had delivery!” He could’ve saved himself half an hour.   Seokjin grins. “Yeah, but it costs an extra two dollars.”   “Guess I’m saving money then.” He feels bitter. Sincerely, you are the curse of his life. Jungkook would’ve never been in this situation if he didn’t feel a need to imaginarily prove you wrong in his mind.   “Jin!” One of his male friends calls out, signaling him over as the waitress shows the rest of his friends to a table.   “I’ll be there in a minute.”   Jungkook can kind of understand the sad state you were in after the breakup. Aside from Seokjin’s handsomeness that even renders Jungkook speechless at some angles, it’s evident that Jin has a good personality. He’s friendly and warm, despite being an acquaintance. And Jin never once treated him poorly even back when he had his feud with you.   “Want to step outside for a minute?” Jungkook asks. “It’s kind of loud in here.”   “Sure.”   The two of them exit the restaurant and become enveloped in the chilly air. It is quiet out here, almost too quiet. They can finally hear each other properly but Jungkook finds his thoughts are deafeningly loud.    “So, what did you end up ordering?”   “Three sausage and two pepperoni.” Jungkook’s fond of the way you always call him a meathead as he stuffs his face with it. “It’s my favourite.”   “Oh really? I’m more of a pineapple man, myself.”   “I’ll admit, I hated pineapple myself until Y/N changed my mind.”   Seokjin grins. “She did for me too. How is she, by the way?”   “She’s...fine. Enough to drive me crazy.” Jungkook sighs with the force of his entire being and Jin nods with the corner of his mouth quirked.    “I'll admit, I was pretty surprised when I heard through the grapevine that you guys became friends. But I’m glad she has someone with her.”   “We’re not like that.”   Jin hums. “Doesn’t change the fact that she has someone to support her.”   There’s a pause. “Can I ask you something?”   It’s the reason Jungkook went out of his way to ask him to come outside. He’s curious and maybe it’s not his place to be, but he’s always felt more involved than he should be. Jungkook wants to understand, to clear his confusion, to hear the other side of the story.   “Depends on what it is.” Seokjin smiles.   “Why did you break up with Y/N?”   You had never really told him the reasoning, and he’ll admit it was bizarre when the two of you split. Jungkook always thought you were one of those irritating high-school sweetheart couples that would eventually get married and settle down with one another. The kind of couple that would get their love story posted in the newspaper after their seventy year anniversary.    A picture-perfect happily ever after.   Seokjin sighs, a cloud of condensation emitted through his parted lips. He leans against the brick wall and looks up at the night sky. “Sometimes...there doesn’t need to be a bad reason or a red flag or some kind of deal breaker.”   “Then why?”   Seokjin shrugs. “I always felt like Y/N loved me a lot more than I loved her. Always.”   “Sometimes, it felt like she put me on a pedestal. Other times, I think I made her feel inadequate. But she was always willing to give up everything for me.” Their eyes connect, Jin’s sheepish and soft. “And for me, I constantly felt like I had to play the part of a good boyfriend, rather than be one because it came naturally. It made me feel guilty. She didn’t do anything wrong. I think I just realized sooner that we weren’t the ones for each other.”   A disconnect. Jin liked you — he adored you — but you loved him wholeheartedly with your entire soul. Even now you still earnestly love Jin.   Jungkook isn’t sure what to do with the new information. But he suddenly feels bad for you. More than he ever has.

[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

꧁Midnight Masquerade꧂

Description; A masquerade becomes the perfect time for a monster to stalk its prey. But what if the heroine knows the villan?

Pairing: Pietro x reader

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Oneshot

Word count; 3.230

Warnings; Kinda entering the thriller genre, a bit of fluff (?)

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

A/N: So this is my little piece in @sdavid09 halloween's challenge and I had the prompts "Scooby Doo" and M.J's "Thriller". Though this isn't only an entry in the challenge, but also my way of introducing a new character I'm going to start writing for. I took a new and kinda differente approach with this fic, so this isn’t how I characteristically write and honestly I don't really now how it turned out. Maybe I'll do a part two or just leave it as this is, we'll see. Nevertheless, hope you enjoy this little work xx

MASTERLIST

Autumn. From where you came the season didn't bring much more than chilled temperatures that nipped at every part of your body, no matter how much or little clothes you wore for the time of year. The only thing differing it from the snowy winter though was the colours. Leaves painted in every colour between green and red, making the forest look as if it was on fire. The otherwise dull coloured buildings, speaking of an ill-favoured state, blended together with the third season of the year, as the smell of earth and heaviness of rain was present. 

Those scents reminded you of your home more than ever as you now walked through the mist coating the streets outside. Goosebumps spread across your body as the wind ruffled the leaves enough for them to fly. A curse left you as you hugged the coat closer around your body, damning the wind for penetrating your scant pieces of clothes for the season. As well as your friends, for the night stroll that you now needed to take.

"Miss, your costume is pretty", the tiny voice surprised you to a stop. As the masquerade mask covering your face also entered your outermost vision, you need to tilt your head downwards to find the owner of it. As soon as you did, you saw a little girl standing there, with illuminated wings and brightly coloured clothes. Her face was painted as well, but unlike yours which aimed to look somewhat regal, it accentuated the costume she was clad in.

"Oh, uhh thank you", you mumbled, unsure if the little girl heard you as another gust of wind fittingly blew by, although seemingly she did. With nothing but a giggle in return and a bright smile, she skipped away to catch up with her mother, who had stopped not far behind you as she noticed her daughter wasn't with her.

You followed the pair for a few seconds, unable to not notice a few dozen other people roaming the streets as well. It seemed that everyone below the age of fifteen was out and about in silly costumes, knocking on each door of the houses in the scary decorated neighbourhood.

The ghosts, mummies, fairies and other creatures and costumes were what reminded you that the outfit you felt was bothersome walking around in, looked unusually modest. Aside from the black lace mask covering your face, there wasn't much more which differed your outfit from any other party clothes.

You sighed, continuing forward to reach the new place your friends said they meet you at, while in the background hearing voices gleefully exclaiming trick or treat. Everything reminded you that here, autumn didn't only bring a change of season, but Halloween as well. You were not used to it, in fact, you had never experienced it until now.

"Hey Y/N!" Along with the call of your name, came the honking of a car and if you hadn't recognised the voice, the rapid sound would have helped you figure out that it was your friends.

"Oh stop it you pest!" You shouted back, laughter lacing your tone, at the man behind the wheel.

"Won't stop until you're in this car missy!" You openly laughed at the way Jake, from his position in the driver seat, leaned closer to the open window on the passenger side to holler at you.

"Can't you see I'm on my way", you answered, almost entering a jog to reach the car to stop his irritation of the whole neighbourhood.

Thanks to your hurried steps, you soon jumped in the backseat, though the person already sitting there didn't give you much time to close the door behind you before throwing themselves at you. Automatically you encircled them, naturally knowing who it was by their display.

"I see you went for the devil after all", you said, regarding the brunette opposite you as you parted. Noticing she matched her deep red glitter dress with devil horns, while a red mask covered her upper face.

"Seeing as we aren't going to the ordinary college party, I thought I could try a classic in a different style".

"Stop lying to yourself Lily, we all know you picked that dress because it made your butt look good", turning to meet you from the passenger seat was Emma, a short-haired blonde.

"And perhaps that's the second reason", Lily stated, though before any further comments could be made, you felt the jolt of the car as it jumped forward.

"Anyways, welcome to the Mystery Machine", Jake said excitedly, though you couldn't miss the blonde rolling her eyes at her boyfriend's comment.

"He's waited to say that since we began heading here", you chuckled at the way she said it, an act that only grew when she swatted his shoulder after a smart comment he made.

"Hey, hey! Don't hit the driver, right Y/N?" You glanced up to meet Jake's eyes in the rearview mirror.

"I want to arrive at our destination and survive, so perhaps don't hit the driver, which for further information, also is your boyfriend Em".

"If anything that gives me the right to", she said sarcastically, which made him make a pouty face and lean in to kiss her. With a giggle, one that made you smile at their exchange, she pushed his head away while saying eyes on the road.

Although the ride was anything but short, your company and their storytelling of previous Halloween's, made the journey pass quickly. Soon enough, you pulled up to the estate-like property, already filled with cars and people flowing through the entrance.

"Geez, they really went all out this year", Jake's eyes strayed from searching for a parking spot for a few seconds to eye the bustle outside. You heard Emma mutter a there, showcasing an empty lot for you to take which her partner immediately headed for.

"When don't they go all out", Lily shrugged before continuing " Though this year you made a valid effort to match the theme, compared to earlier", Lily gestured to the hair Jake had coloured green for the night and the black tailcoat he wore. The man addressed was momentarily busy parking the car, so he only hummed as recognition to her words, but if he gave any further affirmation once it rocked to a stop, you didn't know as you hurriedly opened the car door.

Once stepping out, your mouth dropped open, before a gleeful smile took over. You heard the chatter of people passing by and watched their choice of clothes, the cocktail-dress code for the masquerade impossible to miss.

"You look like an eager puppy", you hadn't noticed the rest stepping out of the vehicle, but Emma's word you heard. Turning around you saw how she had matched the Joker her boyfriend dressed as. Patch-work jumpsuit in black and red followed her body, mask a bit more excessive then both your own and Lily's, as her face was covered in a joker masquerade mask.

"Don't tease her Harley, I'm the Joker for the night", Jake had come up to draw her close to his side, half of his face hidden behind a grinning mask.

"With jokes like that, I'm going to dump you".

"I know you won't", he said, the banter between them continuing as they took the lead towards the house, you and Lily following behind them. You felt exhilaration starting to pump through your veins and your mask gliding up as you couldn't contain a smile. Your undivided attention made the man following you with his gaze, go unnoticed.

You felt how the dress stuck to your skin as you made your way out from the dancing crowd. Since you arrived, you and your friends had busied yourselves with drinking and dancing. Up until this moment you hadn't parted from each other, though the suffocating atmosphere now prompted you too. You excused yourself to get through the crowd, knowing the exit to the garden was on the other side of the mass.

It didn't take long until you got to the door and opened it, doing so you were met by a cold autumn gust. Although it was probably barely noticed by those inside, you felt it envelop you like a counterproductive blanket. The sensation made a shaky sigh escape you, a sound which was swallowed by the noise of the door closing. Hugging your form your eyes closed momentarily, taking in how your bodily temperature steadily lowered. Something about it was comforting, feeling how the hotness disappeared though never fading to freezing. Even though you could hear the music from inside, it was nice fleeing it and the crowds for a few moments.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly opened your eyes while tipping your head backwards, following the fog the exhale then created. Not until it dissipated fully, did you refocus to watch the night sky. It seemed to be close to midnight if the full moon shining brightly from above was any sign to tell from. It cast a cold glow over the garden you stood by yourself in, that was what you had thought at least.

It caught you off guard, heart jumping as you hastily switched to look towards the source of movement in your peripheral. Far to your right, at the end of the patio, a man stood, almost hidden in the shadows. It was his dark grey suit, with few other lighter details, that made him blend so well against the wall of the house, yet the thing deceiving him was his hair. Light, almost verging silver, became a beacon of his presence, nearly as much as the shining mask hiding the majority of his face. His gaze had been heavily set on you the whole time since you noticed his presence and only thanks to this, could you see what the piece shielding his face resembled, a wolf.

As your eyes flickered up to meet his eyes, a pair you couldn't see but feel, you started to feel how the cold grew palpable. It was if the temperature dropped several degrees and a creeping feeling begun to spread in your body. It was then, instead of just having his head turned to you, his whole body did. However, the swift motion didn't stop there, as he didn't waste a second before walking towards you.

You couldn't read it as threatening, yet the way he closed the space between you without saying anything made you unsure. The door you had exited through was still nothing but a step away, as you hadn't ventured further from it, but you were paralysed. Even though you wanted, you couldn't move, merely stare at the man who already had crossed the halfway point to reach you.

It was when he started passing the windows, the flickering lights from inside illuminated his features enough for you to see him clearer. He was tall and well built as he moved with grace, although at the same time it seemed to be a restrained speed. You noticed a stubble on the visible part of his jaw, yet before you reached his eyes, you blinked and when looking towards him again, your jaw dropped.

He was gone.

There was no trace of him even being there in the first place. You started to doubt your sanity while stepping forward. That was when you felt it, a hand on your shoulder. Frightened you jerked away from it, scream dying in your throat as it closed from the sheer panic wrecking throughout your body. However, instead of being met by a silver wolf, you saw a shocked devil.

"It looks like you've seen a ghost", your hand was still placed over your heart and you felt it race from the jump-scare you just got. A relived, albeit airy, chuckle left you seeing Lily stand there, eyebrows scrunched at your reaction.

"From how you appeared from nowhere, I might as well have done it", you tried joking. Earning a laugh told you that you succeeded.

"Well you disappeared, so I came looking for you", you smiled, ever the caretaking friend she was.

"I needed to cool down, too sweaty with the crowd inside".

"Understandable, but you better come inside again", she reached for your hand, about to make you follow her, but not before exclaiming "God women, your freezing!" You wanted to laugh at her outburst, although the uneasy feeling in your stomach of being watched irked you to look behind you instead. As expected, no one was there.

From that moment and onwards, you couldn't let go of what happened. The man had disappeared into thin air, something you couldn't find any explanation to. Though that was not everything, ever since then, you felt observed. The feeling of having a glare in the back of your neck never ceased, yet every time you turned, you couldn't find anyone looking your way. It made an uneasy feeling settle in your body, but you tried pushing it away, knowing your easily spooked mind most possibly played a part in the trick your brain now played on you.

You had since then also joined the dancing crowd, at the moment throwing your head backwards, singing along the lyrics. You moved along the bodies, eyes closed to delve into the sensation of letting go. Even though you hadn't touched a drink since returning inside, you had had a few glasses earlier. Not enough to lose your reason, but plenty for renewed energy to develop.

Suddenly you felt how someone bumped you, harsher than acceptable even for the setting you were in, to which your eyes shot open. You were to turn around and tell the person off, yet something else caught your eye. Through the crowd, you could see him again. Silver mask reflecting the neon lights, yet none reached his eyes. You blinked, but in the second people had moved in the way and he was gone.

"This can't be real", you shook your head, though it was then you felt the burning feeling of eyes on you once more. This time you didn't hesitate to start turning in a circle to find the onlooker and when you did your eyes widened.

You had turned the opposite way of how you originally stood, something which would've taken minutes to walk. No matter if you walked through the dancing crowd, or around it. Yet there he was. The quickening of your pulse wasn't noticeable, not until the music started to fade to give room for the pounding in your ears that was. As heads began clouding the vision of him again, you tried to peer around them, as well as standing on your toes. Still, you lost him a second time.

It felt like someone played with you by now or you were going insane. At that instance, as it was triggered by your thought, you felt your body stiffen and straighten. Your body was hot, but you felt a coldness spread from your core. You recognised where the feeling came from, horrified you slowly turned to look the way it came. His mask shone in the dark, yet you could see nothing besides from it, the rest of him drenched in darkness.

"This can't be real, this can't be real", you uttered to yourself while turning and exiting the crowd and continuing down one of the corridors.

You knew Halloween was the night of terror, but never had you thought you would end up in a thriller. There must be a reason for everything, you thought, yet you had no explanations of the events you had witnessed.

Continuing to move forward, you heard the music fade behind you and your steps echo filling the silencing space instead. The empty space resonated each of your heavy steps loudly, the thought almost stopped you. There was no way your heels would give away that deep and loud of a noise. Intensely you listened, noticing how the sound followed yours perfectly, hitting the ground with the pace of your soles, making it sound like a further echo of yours. But it wasn't, someone else walked behind you.

The growing panic quickly crossed the threshold of fear, making you bolt. You zoned out, only focusing on putting as much distance between you and whatever was behind you that was humanly possible. You didn't dare look back, only held your gaze fastened on the door of the toilet, which had been your original goal.

It felt like the distance never ceased then all of a sudden, your shoulder connected to de door, while hand turned the handle, making you crash trough it. You stagger into the polished room, still not forgetting the door was wide open behind you. With all your weight you threw yourself at it, fingers finding the lock as soon as it closed with an echoing bang.

Your breath had turned shallow, shaking att both in and exhale. In a futile attempt, you tried holding your breath to silence the sound of your breathing. You stared at the door, attempting to hear if whatever chased you still was outside or worse, trying to break in. You realised that if it succeeded, there was nowhere left to run. However, besides your ragged breaths, it was silent, almost to silent.

It was then the impossible happened, you felt a cold hand wrap around your wrist. A choked sound was the only possible noise able to leave you. Biting your lip, you tried to quite the cry that wanted to escape, as well as your tears which were threateningly close.

You prayed this was your imagination, but you knew it wasn't as you felt the one being behind you step closer. You didn't need to turn to feel the looming feeling, which made you insignificantly curl into yourself.

"Y/N", unprepared for the sound of a voice, a whimpered left you, while you covered into yourself further. Your fear clouded your thoughts and not until his voice had echoed in your head multiple times did you realise, you knew that voice.

Though fear still gripped you, you slowly turned, eyes wide as you saw the mass of a man now standing before you. It was impossible to see anything more than his form in the dark, so you reached behind you, fumbling to find the light switch. Flickering to life the sudden source of light blinded you momentarily, though as soon as your eyes had adjusted, you looked at him once more.

Though his mask still covered most of his features, the light revealed many traits you hadn't seen before. His hair, which you had thought was silver, was dark brown at the roots, matching the stubble covering his jaw. The blue of his eyes shone from the cuts in his mask, seemingly crinkled in the corners. That was when you recognised him.

You recognised those blue eyes which you had gazed into so many times before. Those blues that could shift from shining brightly, to dangerously opaque. The ones you had left when moving from Sokovia, from him.

It was like he was bound, thus as you reached towards him, he stood perfectly still. You found the laces to his mask easily and with a few tugs, the tie loosened and the disguise fell from his face, hitting the floor with an unbothered cling.

"Pietro"

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