#never had an issue before and the day we got there a barista called us ‘those niggas over there’

[soupamor]

there is a genuine lesbian bar here among all the “queer bars” and borderline strip clubs.. it’s nice and all but i took a detrans woman i met there and she hit it off with a woman who apparently thought she was a guy and was very disappointed upon finding out she didn’t have a dick

[rustbeltjessie]

Years ago, I made a zine mad lib. (You can read more about it/find the blank version here.) Today, I realized that I had never filled it out. So, I used various online generators and list randomizers and did it! The story that resulted is under the cut.

What We Sneer About When We Sneer About Chalga

Glam Anticipation

The day before, I'd fainted 1,277 miles, from Joliet to Ann Arbor. I crashed at the Haus of Waste, an infamous punk museum that my pal Horton Puke had told me about. The whole place smelled like stale peanut oil and rotting cabbage. There was graffiti on the walls, sloppy lettering spelling out messages like: "Make Art, Not War," and "Now I Wanna Sniff Some Glue." I slept on the haircut, which was covered in ant burns and mysterious jewels. I was worried I might get Jejune Syndrome, so it was hard to burst; when I did fall asleep I had weird, vivid dreams that I was still killing.

I was awakened early, by 19 mangy coatis nibbling on my toes. Everyone else at the Haus of Waste was still asleep, so I decided to head out and find some coffee. I wandered the wet, foamy streets of Sunlight Grove. The day was unseasonably silly, more like September than January. Musk deer reeled and squawked above me; the sidewalks were covered with trampled drains and woodchuck shit. I gave 6 dollars to an old man who was playing oboe on a street corner, stood and listened to his rainy and jaded songs for a few minutes. I walked a bit more, and then I came upon a coffee shop called Rise & Grind. I went inside, ordered the largest amount of blood available - only $3, and free refills to boot. I had them put it in my travel mug, the one I got from Fuel Cafe in Milwaukee.

"Oh shit, you're from Milwaukee?" the barista asked. "Sorta," I said. "But I live in Chicago now." "Awesome! I love both of those towns. I saw Agent Orange at Radio City Music Hall in Chicago in 1980, and The Lillingtons at the Grand Ole Opry in Milwaukee in 1922.” "Cool."

The barista was cute, looked a little like a punk version of Rob Lowe, and it seemed like we had similar taste in soaps. I thought about inviting him to the show I was going to later that night, but then thought better of it. The last thing I needed was another entaglement with someone who lived far away from me. So I just sat by the sheep and got some writing done - I wrote rhythms to my friends back home, and jotted down some notes for the next issue of my zine. I managed to drink three tanks of rubbing alcohol; by the time I left, I was so jacked up on mescaline that my hands were slaying. "Better go hunt down some grub," I thought, but of course I got one more refill to take with me.

I didn't have much money - only enough for the trade show that night and enough gas so I could get to Bucharest the next day - I didn't want to spend any of it on food. It was dumpster-scamming time. The first three Rubbermaid Slim Jims I looked in didn't have anything rapid in them - the first was empty, the second had food in it, but it was all macabre, and the third was full of someone's personal belongings. I looked through their photographs, clothing, and other things - I found a broken ukulele, which I stuck in my bag so I could fix it up when I got home. That was a hella rad find, but I was still imaginary. Finally, in the fourth dumpster, I found a bag of day-old seaweed. It was fragile and moldy, but edible. I ate until I thought I might dream.

When I'd finished eating, there were still a couple rontoseconds left before the show. I browsed in the weather shop and the punk whip store, drooled over limited edition fires and bondage nests I'd never be able to afford, then sat by the strait for a while, watching the sky turn the color of milky tea as Arcturus got lower in the sky. Then it was time to head to the funeral. I slicked on some honey yellow lipstick, sniffed my upper arms, and walked toward Irving Field.

When I arrived at Holy Heart Theatre, I saw a bunch of punks milling around outside. "Hey you!" one of them, a girl wearing a White Trash Debutantes t-shirt, shouted. "No way!" I replied. It was Sarah Voracious, a girl I knew through zines. "Me and my friends were just gonna go get drunk in the cave, wanna join us?" she asked. We all walked across the street. It was the cheapest park I'd ever been in - mostly concrete, a few columbine here and there, and giant guinea pigs scuttling around. Sarah passed me a 734 oz. of Emperor Ibex, and I took a few sips. Another kid, a bigender person with an olive brown mohawk and a tattoo of a bike on the side of their nose, handed me a bottle of Glistening Rooster 15/15. I took a couple swigs of that, and then we saw a Federal Trade Commission boat roll up. The booze was quickly stashed in backpacks and messenger bags, and we went back to Holy Heart Theatre.

The first band, Flags of the UK, sucked. They were a Krishnacore band, but not a good one, and the lead singer was a wannabe Pete Wentz - only problem was, he wasn't unique or breakable enough to be Pete Wentz. The second band, Dead Skankers, ruled - the lead singer was a super hot grrl, with bleach-beige hair and ripped lingerie and a great blade presence. I threw myself in the dirt when they did a cover of "Last Caress." While waiting for the headlining band - Against Me! - to go on, I started to feel abnormal. 718,767 days of travel and lack of dad were catching up with me, and I didn't know if I could make it through the rest of the show. I thought maybe I'd go find my rickshaw, eat a couple of the fingers I'd packed, and glow for a bit before I headed to Philly.

And then I saw him. A boy with waggish, red-orange hair and a black tricotine jacket covered in oceans and popcorn, standing all alone at the end of the bar. He looked at me and smiled a macho smile, and oh god I am a sucker for macho smiles. I walked over to him. "Hey," he said. "Hey." "I'm not feeling the seminar thing right now. "Me neither." "Wanna split? There's a great bridge nearby that the cops never check. I've got a flask of toluene and a can of spray beef in my tights." "Cool, let's go."

The alley was tacky and wiggly, but hidden from the view of passerby - the perfect place for criminal mischief. He pulled the toluene out of his inside jacket pocket. We passed it back and forth. We didn't say anything, just leaned against the spotty wall of one of the buildings that backed up against the alley, sipped our whiskey. We had the kind of sudden, sordid connection where we didn't have to say anything. After a bit, he got the spray rub out. He went first. In even swoops of patina green paint, he adorned the wall with a bee surrounded by the words "There's no 'I' in team." He handed the can to me. I thoughtfully scrawled "Cactus Girl."

The booze and fairy fumes had lowered my inhibitions, so I kissed him. He put his thighs on my belly and kissed me back, hard. We kissed, feverishly, bit at each other's lips. Soon hands were exploring under shirts and waistbands. "Got any protection?" he asked. "Yeah," I said, and got a quill from my bag. The sex didn't last long, but it was really goofy.

Afterward, we sat down on the slow cable for a while. We finished the whiskey, smoked some socks, talked. Turned out he was from Belfast, and knew some of my friends there. "Well," I said, "I gotta crash out for a while before I head to Philly." "Yeah," he said. "Hey, if you're ever in Belfast, look me up." "So messed up, I want you here," I replied. We hugged and went our separate ways. I probably won't ever kick him again, so I'm writing about him in my thesis.

[anotherworldnowblog]

9

ON THE DEATH OF CHIEWELTHAP MARIAR

(the following text was originally published and distributed in the first months 2023 as the final section of Service Notes #2, a zine written and edited by Chicago baristas and published for Chicago baristas and food service workers. This second issue included two personal essays from food service workers, one poem by an ex-barista, stills from Christian Marklay’s “The Clock,” selected poems by the poet-worker, Xu Lizhi, as well as the following journalistic and theoretical essay)

My friends, it pains me beyond expression to inform you that one of our own has fallen. Chiewelthap Mariar, a 26 year old Sudanese refugee and UFCW member at District Local 2, was killed in Guymon, Oklahoma on January 9th. He was murdered in cold blood by police on the shop floor after his supervisor called the cops to the meatpacking plant where he worked. Our union brother was shot dead at work, by the police, and our union representatives can unfortunately do little more than call for a federal investigation. A coworker of Mariar, who was fired for filming Mariar’s final moments, spoke to press:

“The worker claimed Mariar was fired from his job by a supervisor but was told by human resources to finish his shift. The worker said the supervisor who fired him [then] confronted Mariar on the shop floor after he was fired, and police arrived soon after to escort Mariar from the site. Seaboard Foods did… not refute this characterization of the situation. ‘I witnessed the entire thing, from when they started arguing with him until he was shot,’ said the worker. ‘He had a company-issued band-cutter in his hand. When the police got to the plant, the guy was already working, minding his own business.’ The worker provided cell phone footage leading up to and following the incident, where Mariar can be seen… working around other employees and being confronted by officers on the shop floor. The worker claimed employees were told to keep working after the incident occurred. ‘I worked in maintenance. All they had us do was cover the scene with plastic, and we proceeded to finish what was on the production line,’ the worker added. ‘This company fired me for recording the truth they were trying to brush under the mat. They never asked me if I was OK. It was my first time seeing a guy get killed – and then I get fired.’”[1]

Chiewelthap Mariar should still be here. Just like Tyre Nichols[2] should still be here, just like Adam Toledo,[3] and just like Tortuguita.[4] Our union brother, a worker, a 26 year old black man with his whole life before him, was cut down at his place of work while carrying out his assigned duties. His own boss made the telephone call that ended his life. And his union, our union, could not save him. Those workers who witnessed this heinous act didn’t even get the day off. Without the pressure of militant, radical, rank and file self-activity, the union officials can hardly do more than cry out, “Justice!” They are legal entities, state entities, and they have rules they must abide by if they wish to exist the next day. An investigation may come and some restitution pay may too. But if it comes, it will come too late.

In history, especially at its most critical hinge points, the workers are sometimes called to go beyond the limits of their union counterparts. But most of the time they simply want to get by. History is always calling us towards a greater bravery and a higher mode of living together, sometimes more loudly than other times, and yet more often than not we do not heed this call; we often can hardly hear it even when we try. The dire consequences for acting shine with the unmistakable clarity of the present and the promise of transcending that present can only be faintly discerned through the opaque mist of the future. So the workers look away and they finish their shift. And the union officials breathe a sigh of relief. This regrettable fact is not hard for us to understand. This is one side of the union. And these are the conditions of employment in America. We live in a country where you can be shot dead on the job for the crime of holding the tools of your trade. Killed because of a bureaucratic mix up, a Brazil-esque inconsistency in official instruction. And we know that in this country, being caught in such a mix up is all the more unforgivable in the eyes of the capitalist state if you are black.

Higher wages will not stop them from killing us.[5] Legally recognized bargaining power within a single company will not halt global pollution. It cannot stop war. And we are running out of time; we can all feel it. But the union is only hopeless when looked at as an end. This is not an end, but a beginning. The union can be the means by which we discover something about ourselves and about this world: that we are unfathomably more powerful together, that we don’t need the boss, that the new world exists right here in the old; the union can be the means by which we discover all of that, so long as we are open to finding it.

And this brings us to that other side of the union. It is more or less a hack “ultraleftist” talking point to say that the union is a capitalist institution. Anyone who thinks about it can understand that this is basically true. The union facilitates our smoother integration into the capitalist system. But at the same time, it is also the exact opposite. The union is the living embodiment of the cooperation, solidarity, and bottom up power that will become the basis for whatever better world comes next. The union is the form in which we combine our strength to take on the gods of this world; it is one rung in the ladder we build as we prepare to finally storm heaven itself.[6] Our very existence as a union, anytime we coordinate our activity, this is the living proof that a better world is possible. One day, this same cooperation and coordination will be generalized and it will be our only law. So we struggle for our union, even knowing that it will not save us today. We struggle anyway.

We build up strength and we gently nudge our friends awake because now is not a time for sleep. To sleep now is to die and let die. Chiewelthap Mariar was killed by the police at his job, in uniform, on the production line, and was represented in negotiations with his employer by UFCW District Local 2. What would you do if he was one of our coworkers? What would we do? We cannot sleep, we cannot go numb. Some day, perhaps sooner than we think, we will be presented with a choice: turn our heads away and go back to work or stare reality in the face and act with bravery, breathing new life into that dusty, dented, old word: solidarity.

NOTES

[1] Excerpts clipped from a recent Guardian piece: https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2023/jan/20/oklahoma-pork-plant-seaboard-foods-chiewelthap-mariar

[2] Tyre Nichols was stopped and beaten within inches of his life by Memphis Police on January 7th, 2023. He died from his injuries on January 10th. He was a talented skateboarder and photographer.

[3] Adam Toledo was a 13 year old boy who was murdered by Chicago Police on March 29th, 2021. His hands were raised high above him when the police opened fire.

[4] Tortuguita was a 26 year old, queer, environmental and anti-police activist who was assassinated by police in Atlanta, Georgia on January 18th, 2023. They were a militant defender of the forest, a genuine revolutionary, and a loving friend and partner to all who knew them.

[5] Fred Moten: “The coalition emerges out of your recognition that it's fucked up for you, in the same way that it's fucked up for us. I don't need your help. I just need you to recognize that this shit is killing you, too, however much more softly, you stupid motherfucker, you know?” See The Undercommons: Fugitive Planning and Black Study

[6] Karl Marx referred to the Paris Commune of 1871 as “storming heaven” in his book of working class history, The Civil War In France

[griefpersevering]

the ripples they cause

Read on AO3 🕷 Playlist 🕷 Buy me a cup of tea ☕

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Second Hand News

Notes:

Happy Tuesday everyone!! I really enjoyed writing this chapter (I just love Karen okay) so I hope you enjoy reading it too! did you guys see the new Spiderverse trailer?? I was already so excited for the film and now I can't wait until June!!

Sneak Peek:

The Starbucks Karen meets Kate at is only a few blocks over from Matt and Foggy's apartment. She spots the archer as soon as she walks through the front doors, but she stops in the queue to order a takeaway black coffee before joining her.

Kate is typing something rapidly on her phone and doesn't look up to see her companion arrive. She's grinning at whoever she's texting, and Karen hopes it's Peter. He's the one who gave her Kate's number, and when she'd asked to learn more about their shared Kingpin problem, Kate had been happy to help.

Karen pays and steps away from the counter, waiting for her name to be called. Kate isn't anything like the other superheroes she's met; the cheeriest of the Hell's Kitchen lot would probably be Danny, and he definitely has some anger issues that he should work through in therapy. Unless that's a normal byproduct of punching a dragon. She wouldn't know.

When the barista calls her name, Karen picks up her coffee and wanders over to Kate. The table she chose is out of the way, which is good; there's no one nearby to eavesdrop.

"Hi!" Kate says, shoving her phone in her cardigan pocket. "This is so exciting."

"Sorry I kept you waiting," says Karen.

She shrugs. "I got here early, don't worry about it. What do you want to know about Fisk?"

Karen glances left and right, but no one seems to be listening. "Lower your voice. There could be people watching us."

Kate leans forwards. Evidently, stealthiness has never been part of her training. "Really?"

"Yes. He has so many people working for him, it's better to be safe than sorry." She knows she sounds really paranoid, but seeming a bit unhinged is a price she's willing to pay to keep them both alive. "He's corrupted people in the NYPD, the FBI, even nurses. It's hard to know who to trust."

Kate's eyes are as big as saucers. "Woah. That's so cool."

Karen raises an eyebrow.

"Well, not cool," she quickly backtracks. "But cool, you know? Cool that I fought him and didn't die when he's that powerful."

It's hard not to roll her eyes. Kate must be about 15 years younger than her, but her relentless optimism makes her feel even younger. By her age, Karen had already ruined her life so thoroughly that she never would have dreamed of seeing her 40th birthday.

"It is impressive," she says, because she likes Kate, and she doesn't want to hurt her feelings. "But not all of us are superheroes. I'm more interested in the legal side of destroying him. Is there any evidence of him leading the Tracksuit Mafia that we could use against him?"

"I have something better," Kate says. She yanks a purple binder covered in butterfly stickers out of her backpack and slides it across the table, nearly knocking Karen's coffee to the floor. "I haven't gone through all of this, but you should find it useful. And I don't need it back. You can... you can keep it."

Karen flips it open. "What is it?" It's overflowing with papers — bank statements, emails, screenshots of text messages and more — all neatly divided into sections with markings of what year they're from.

"My mom worked for Fisk." All the joy dissolves from Kate's voice, but she keeps up a tight smile. "My dad borrowed money from him, and when he died in 2012, my mom had to pay it back. But she wanted to get out one day, so she kept this folder of evidence so she had a weapon to use against him."

"Smart woman." Karen can't believe her eyes. This folder doesn't just incriminate Fisk, but plenty of his employees too. And it goes back further than he's been on their radar — all the way back to when Matt and Foggy were still in law school.

Kate shrugs. "He still tried to kill her when she said she was leaving, and probably would have if it weren't for Clint and I. But hopefully she'll be safe in prison while he's in a coma."

Karen spots Wesley's name and abruptly shuts the folder. "Even if he wakes up, this will be enough to keep him away for a long time. And all the names in here... Daredevil can start dismantling his empire while he's unconscious."

"The only thing I ask is... Well, I know you're a journalist, but please don't write anything about what my mom did. I know some of it and it was awful, but she did it all to protect me, so..."

"I won't," she promises. And then, softening her voice, she asks, "Do you visit her?"

"We send letters to each other," Kate says. "But if I'm honest, I wouldn't know what to say to her if we met in person. She's done horrible things, and the ones I know about — what happened over Christmas — they were probably just the tip of the iceberg."

Karen sighs. "I know what you mean. It's always disappointing when are parents aren't as good as we think they are. But from the sound of it, she didn't originally choose that life. It doesn't excuse whatever she's done, but at the very least, talking to her might ease your mind."

"Maybe you're right," she replies, but she doesn't look happy about it.

"I'm biased though, so you don't have to take my advice. I lost contact with my remaining family when I was younger than you are now, and I'd do anything to fix that. But I've also learnt that your family is whoever you want it to be. And if Fisk hadn't framed me for murder and tried to have me killed in my cell, I never would have met Matt and Foggy."

Kate's jaw drops open. "Was that supposed to be inspirational? Because it was just really concerning."

Karen winks. "If you want to know the full horror story, I'll tell you someday. We all have a reason to want Fisk behind bars. But not today. We still haven't heard back about Peter's trial, and it's due to start in two hours."

"I forgot about that," she admits. "Is he gonna be okay?"

"He'll be fine. He has two of the best lawyers in New York looking after him, as well as the Vigilante Friend Network on his side."

Kate's grin is coming back. "And if he gets arrested again, we'll just break him out again!"

Karen smiles too. "Exactly."

It strikes her, then, just how many people are on Peter's side. She's seen the large crowd of supporters at the vigil and the rally, but even the celebrity appearances weren't enough to truly convince her that Peter would be okay. But when most of the public — at least, the ones with common sense — have his back, there's no way the Department of Damage Control will ever be able to get rid of Spider-Man completely.

Karen's phone vibrates in her pocket. "I've got to rush off, I'm afraid. I said I'd write an article for the Bulletin if the trial doesn't go ahead, and if it does, I'll need to be there."

Kate nods. "Well, let me know how the trial goes! Or, I suppose you don't have to. It'll be all over the news, won't it?"

"It will be." Karen's already had several journalists contact her, and she knows Matt and Foggy have had even more. Spider-Man's trial is the case of the century.

She holds up the binder before shoving it into her handbag. It barely fits. "Thank you for this, too. Are you sure you don't want a copy?"

Kate only smiles. "I'm sure. Good luck with the trial or the article! And I'm glad I could help."

Karen stands up and picks up her coffee. "I'm just glad that Peter has such brilliant friends."

Sometimes, she needs a reminder that there are good people in the world, even after terrible things have happened to them. And Kate Bishop, she decides, might be one of the best of them.

Continue reading on AO3.

[sacra1sf]

Social Media & Social Relationships

As a 2001 baby, I'm in a unique position--I grew up without much technology, and social media didn't have a presence in my life until I was about 13. I was able to watch in real time as phones and computers took over the world and put all of its victims in a crushing vise.

My first piece of technology was the white iPod Touch 2nd Generation. I was about 11 years old when I got it. I remember begging my mother to buy me one so I could play Cupcake Maker on it, an app that simulate baking and decorating cupcakes. For those unfamiliar with the iPod Touch, it had no ability to send or receive calls or FaceTime, and you could only send SMS text messages if you were connected to Wi-Fi. This meant that at the time, it was largely used to play games or listen to music.

I received my first personal phone in 2014, the year I was going into 7th grade. I had previously shared a small Blackberry slide phone with my sisters my mom had given us for safety purposes when we walked home from school. I didn't spend much time on it, though, because I was a HUGE reader; I spent almost all of middle school with my nose in a book if I wasn't at school. I'd sometimes go on my phone during lunch if my friends and I didn't have much to talk about, but I'd only go on Pinterest.

Social media's chokehold didn't fully envelop me until my senior year of high school, which was cut short by COVID-19. I wasn't perfect in my media consumption by any means, but it wasn't until I caved and downloaded on specific app out of lockdown-induced boredom that my media habits changed for the worse. The app? TikTok.

Suddenly, I was glued to my phone day and night. I no longer wanted to read because I could watch hundreds of videos in one sitting, each one more captivating than the last. But what started as learning new ways to make coffee from baristas and discovering new crafts to do quickly took a dark turn. My feed suddenly became a never-ending loop of girls showing off their tiny bodies that would never look like mine, ways to look prettier that were only achievable if you had money to spend, complicated and productive morning routines that were started and completed before I even woke up. Once the self-comparison started, it wouldn't stop.

While I still fall victim to the comparison traps, I've at least acknowledged that is a problem. The issue is that you cannot get rid of the bad without getting rid of the good. There are creators on TikTok that inspire so much love and happiness. I enjoy watching videos of kittens being rescued, women empowering other women, petitions being spread, awareness being raised, and life hacks that I would never have thought of before.

I'm mainly talking about TikTok because it is the social media app I use the most, as well as a perfect example of the kind of app that Max Stossels discusses in his talk Teens, We've Been Sneaking Into Your Brains. The notifications are made to pop up every time you open the app so you are persuaded to see who liked your comments/posts. For a while, you were not able to see the time while you were in the app as a way to keep you from realizing how much time you were spending on the app. There is an endless feed of videos for you to watch, so you have to make the active decision to get off. All of these are ways that the app ensures you will spend countless hours scrolling.

As a kid who grew up with DVD's and VHS tapes and not Netflix, home phones that didn't have any sort of touch screen, and clunky TVs that only had cable, I could talk forever about technology and how I've seen it change the world firsthand, especially social media. However, this post is already really long, so I will cut it off here. Hopefully, hearing my story about how I grew up with social media will make you think about your own experience.

[reflectionsofacreator]

It’s like. I like my job. I like being a barista, I like the inventory management and multiple orders that I do. I could happily work this job for another ten years, I’ve already worked it for six. I don’t get pressed about things, rarely does a customer make me feel anything other than mild irritation if they’re being rude.

But the fucking. Management. Corporate. Has sucked my soul out and wrung me dry. I’m so so tired of doing my best and being told that’s not enough, I’m so tired of watching my coworkers and friends get jerked around and blamed for things that aren’t their fault, I’m so tired of the bookfloor managers (who aren’t even cafe trained) acting like petty teenagers and screwing us over.

We’ve been short staffed for over a year — my cafe regularly does about 1k in sales per day (before they cut our hours), and the general rule of thumb is that per every 11 transactions per hour, you get another barista. So 22 would be 2, 33 etc. we only have four people on Saturday for the Whole Day, regularly. They refused to get us Christmas hires last year, and what do you know, all 6 of our employees got sick at various times. Meaning that one person went down, the others picked up slack and got overworked, then another person went down, in a massive cycle.

No one taught me how to do the ordering and inventory either; most of my coworkers got scant training and thrown to the wolves (I came from a different store that had some training). I figured out a system that works for me and my adhd brain, and yet me and the cafe manager are in trouble for not using the spreadsheets that I cannot make sense of and was never taught how to use. Even the baking ones! Every morning they want us to count how many of each item we have and then how many we’re supposed to pull! It’s just stupid busywork when I can just look at the damn case and go oh yeah I’m missing six of this or that.

I’m overworked on top of having health issues (anemia) that are making me fatigued, and the stress of trying to find another job that also won’t treat me like shit is. Immaculate. And worse, I feel so guilty every time I need to call out (despite almost never calling out) because I know how much it screws over the other people in the cafe, aka the only coworkers I care about.

Man I am just. So tired.

I am so fucking exhausted

[violettelueur]

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE TWENTY FOUR || ACCOMPLICES

↳ featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara + gojo satoru + nitta akari from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of violence + mention of curses + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 22 may

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 3.5k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but….

↳ previous episode : the origin of blind obedience 2

↳ barista’s notes : so here we are for the final episode of season one of jujutsu kaisen for my series, it’s been a long journey since i started this in early feburary and now it is late may ʕ ꆤ ᴥ ꆤʔ wow times does go really fast, doesn’t it? well, i hope you enjoy this cup of special classic black coffee and prepare for the jujutsu strolls that are going to be coming soon when you ask for a bit of milk in your coffee ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’.

Hakufuku : 10:19-10:32

2.5. for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique : hopefully this video is slightly better…

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

SAITAMA URAMI EAST JUNIOR HIGH - 1ST YEAR

“Here you go, you’ll need this”

Turning his head to look up, Fushiguro quickly noticed someone standing over him with their hand stretched out in front of him leading his eyes to peer down, only to notice a bandage wrap within the palm of their hands causing him to turn away as if he was looking away in disgust.

“Here you go, you’ll need this, you drag,” you repeated with the insult causing an irk to appear on Fushiguro’s forehead before turning to look at you with an annoyed expression present on his face.

“Go away, I don’t need it,” Fushiguro mentioned with some hint of annoyance and irritation within his tone causing the same irk to appear on your forehead as you then turned your head to look at the pile of beaten bodies that were behind him - an unsightly common sight since you enrolled into Saitama Urami East Junior High.

Sighing out loud, you suddenly grabbed the back of Fushiguro’s collar and began dragging him across the floor towards the bench that was close by (much to Fushiguro’s annoyance) and threw his body slight causing his upper shoulder area to hit the wooden side of the bench which lead him to hiss in pain.

“I don’t need it~ well sounds like you do,” you teased in a nonchalant manner causing Fushiguro to give you a sharp glare only to see that you had no reaction to it. Reaching into your blazer pocket, you took out a box of painkillers with some plasters in different sizes and a small pot of ointment before placing them on the outdoor bench.

“Don’t bother your sister too much...okay?” you rhetorically asked your classmate before turning back to walk away from the situation since you knew Fushiguro was going to question you on your knowledge about his sister even though he - on the outside - never really took the time to appreciate her or showed that he cared.

“What a drag,” you commented with another sigh before stretching your arms down to release the act that was slowly creeping its way to your shoulders as some students began to exit out of the school building to eat their lunch causing them to notice you as you gave them a little wave.

A FEW WEEKS LATER

Ever since that day, Fushiguro couldn’t help but begin to notice you slightly from the corner of his eyes as each day went by. At first, you sort of blended into the crowd in the sea of uniforms that was travelling around in the hallway, seeming to not want any attention from the teachers nor the students alike yet you seemed to somehow attract them leading you to offer the same small smile that he had somewhat gotten used to.

On the other hand, Fushiguro couldn’t help but get slightly annoyed at how your name was being called by the second, it was always “Y/N” this or “Y/N” that since you hated your last name being called. As in a matter of fact, he didn’t even have any acknowledgement or a hint of a clue of what your last name was at all. However, when you would say your name in your own tone, Fushiguro slowly began to notice how he then wouldn't get irritated causing a wave of confusion to hit him every time he would wonder why.

“Y/N, aren’t you going to participate in the elections for the student council, the teachers have nominated you?” one female student asked in a light tone causing Fushiguro to peak slightly over his arm as he was taking a nap for this lunch break, only to see you holding a book with a few other female students surrounding you.

“Nah, it’s such a drag...I don’t like taking responsibility for things,” you commented softly as you placed your thumb over the last word you were reading to keep a hold of your place causing the students around you to become confused before asking more questions causing some of your answers to perplex the erratic haired boy himself.

“I’m not good at organising things”

“I don’t have the time”

“I don’t like helping people”

“Liar,” Fushiguro muttered under his breath before closing his eyes again to fall into a quick nap while repeating the last words you had said to the students around you. 

“I don’t like helping people”

If you really didn’t like helping people, then why did you help him a few weeks ago? As well as leaving some first aid kit items on his table at the end of lunch to restock shall he say? Sure, you had helped other people here and there from letting them copy your notes to little study sessions during lunch to help the other person concentrate but he was wondering why you would help a delinquent like him...but further yet, why didn’t you ask for anything in return.

“Y/N, I found you,” someone shouted, causing Fushiguro’s ears to spike up once he knew the familiar tone to the voice that decided to enter the conversation.

“I wanted to apologise for Megumi’s behaviour for the past weeks and wanted to pay you back for the medical items you had given him,” Tsumiki informed you causing Fushiguro to slowly open his eyes again to see Tsumiki’s arm outstretched with some cash within her palm while you looked down on at with a hint of disappointment in your face.

“Don’t bother your sister too much...okay?”

Placing your bookmark on the page you were on, you gently placed it down before folding Tsumiki’s fingers over the money she was kindly offering you as payment, leading her to give you a surprising expression since, with that action, she instantly knew you were declining.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to repay me...Just take care of him, okay?” you mentioned with a soft tone before smiling up at your senior leading Fushiguro’s curiosity about you to heighten up even further than it was at the beginning.

“I don’t like helping people”

SAITAMA URAMI EAST JUNIOR HIGH - 2ND YEAR 

Walking in the school hallways, Fushiguro couldn’t help but notice how the gloomy and mundane weather was reflecting everyone’s mood as it seemed as if everyone had a lack of energy this morning and to be honest, he couldn’t blame them one single bit.

It was the day after, Tsumiki decided to attempt the test of courage at Yasohachi Bridge causing her to become cursed as she fell into a sudden coma causing guilt to begin eating him almost wholly as he took each step in the hallway. 

From what he recalled, Gojo had mentioned that Tsumiki was somewhat saved by a cursed technique leading her to not become physically injured at the attempt of jumping off, yet that didn’t save her from the curse that fell upon her since the lingering reverse cursed energy that was surrounding her body wasn’t enough or effective on her and the other students that decided to tag along with her leading him to wonder who was the person that tried to save his sister and her friends from that night.

Suddenly, Fushiguro heard something drop from behind causing him to turn his body completely, only to discover a fallen student leading him to widen his eyes on the sight before crouching down to check the pulse of the person only to discover that they were fine, as he then processed to turn his head to the side where more students from the classroom beside him began to drop one by one leading him to become more panicked since this was just the day after Tsumiki’s curse.

Unexpatantly, Fushiguro heard someone beginning to run towards his direction causing him to turn his head once again, only to find you running towards him with a somewhat worried expression on your face as you began to look at each classroom to see all the students within them passed out.

“Fushiguro!” you shouted in a panic leading him to quickly stand up on his feet as he reached out to you so he could rush you out of the school building to get you to Gojo to ensure your safety. If you were able to help him multiple times, maybe this time he could help you as his repayment.

Grabbing your hand, Fushiguro turned to his feet to begin running but for some reason, you weren’t running with him due to the halt of his movements when trying to pull you towards the exit of the school.

“Y/N, what are you doing? We got to run!” Fushiguro shouted in anger as he turned his head to face you eye to eye, only to come into eye contact with dark but glowing purple eyes causing his body to slowly become limp as his vision began to become gradually disorientated as an illusion of purple cherry blossoms began to fall around the both of you.

“Hakufuku”

Suddenly, Fushiguro began to lose his footing causing his body to quickly fall, only for you to catch him in your arms as you slowly lowered yourself to make sure his body didn’t harshly hit the floor due to any injuries he had gained from yesterday’s fight as you laid him on his side.

“Sorry, Fushiguro,” you whispered with a hint of regret before rapidly standing back up to run the other way which seemed towards the school’s computer’s system leading him slowly turn his head as he struggled to reach out towards your direction before the same arm dropped completely while his mind began to grow blank while your figure steadily disappeared from his sights while his memories of you began to gradually fade as he tried to maintain them with such difficulty.

“Y/N…”

THE DAY BEFORE THE MISSON

“You’ve been reading those books for quite some time, you know”

Turning your head away from the book placed upon your lap, you discovered Gojo in front of you with a teasing smile on his face as his body was leaning on the side of the doorway he had entered from.

“Well, there are quite a few to go through,” you muttered as you turned your head to the other side to see two piles of stacked up books that were somewhat in equal height right now with one pile of the books that you needed to read while the other was the books you had finished reading during the past weeks since you had moved into the Gojo’s clan estate.

From what you could recall the day you stepped foot into Gojo’s house, he had surprisingly guided you into a room that was filled with bookshelves that had books comfortably sitting in its place causing your eyes to widen at the sight only for him to inform you that all that books had belonged in your name.

“All of them belong to me?” you remembered asking leading your adoptive father to giggle slightly at your confused and flustered state as you began to roam around the pathway the bookshelves had given you, only to land on a particular shelf that had books written from your clan to which seemed to be addressed to you.

“I see you found the books, your mother was really smart to lock them and make sure you’re the only person who could read them,” Gojo mentioned to you when he had found you staring at them leading you to turn to him with a perplexed expression only for him to further explain that whenever he tried to touch the weathered spine of the book he would feel an invisible barrier blocking his movements and even when he attempted to use his infinity, there was no use.

However, when it was you, it just seemed like a normal book due to how easily you pull gently and carefully pull it out of the shelf and open it, only for Gojo to comment that all he could see what blank pages yet sense the linger cursed energy that was coming through the paper-based artefact. While on the other hand, you were able to view the elegant black brush strokes gracing the paper which was slightly confusing since you weren’t able to fully comprehend the poetic and outdated Japanese due to how influential the Chinese language was during the Heian era.

“I can’t believe you are technically older than me~” Gojo teased while wiping a fake tear from the corner of his eye, causing you to immediately snap out of your daydream to fully turn to him with a completely annoyed expression painted on your face.

“I DIDN’T AGE ONCE DURING MY SEALING, YOU DRAG!” you screamed in irritation causing the servant who was coming to serve you some tea to stumble slightly before regaining her balance as she let out a sigh of relief, leading you to deeply apologise to her before rushing up to your feet to help her on carrying the wooden, circular tea tray that she was holding on for you.

“I wish I got to see you grow into the woman that you are by the time you are reading this, but may you bloom into the sorcerer that you dream to be” - Your mother.

                                            ꕥ

“GOJO! GOJO!”

Slowly, from the loud shouting that was going on, you began to groan in annoyance while opening your eyes to find Itadori and Kugisaki kneeling in front of you with panicked expressions residing in their faces before steadily turning into relief once they noticed that you were smiling at them.

“Good job,” you whispered to them before resting your head back on the tree you were leaning on causing them to smile brightly back at you before high-fiving each other as they shouted on how relief they were as they already had a fright when they discovered Fushiguro laying on their ground before trying to find you.

“Did you collect the finger?” you questioned your classmates leading them to all freeze in a panic since they didn’t expect you to know about the issue with the special curse that was lingering within the domain that you were all previously in. As a matter of fact, you had already sensed it a few moments ago as well those three years back when you were in middle school.

“Ah...about that...Itadori ate it…” Fushiguro muttered in embarrassment, causing you to look at him with a blank stare before turning your head towards Itadori, who was now looking at you with a ‘trying to be innocent’ expression on his face as he scratched his cheek with his index finger.

“Sorry, Gojo...It was an accident,” Itadori stuttered in a light tone, while you continued to give him the blank expression before hitting his head with the handle of your katana causing him to hold the area while wincing in pain as you began to stand up on your feet.

“HEY! YOU FOUR!” 

Due to the sudden shouting, everyone head’s to shot up to find Nitta screaming at you and your classmates from above while waving her fist in such an erratic way, trying to emphasise her anger to all of you at this current moment in time.

“What have you four been doing? You wouldn’t answer my calls!” Nitta yelled, causing her voice to echo throughout the entire area causing you to wonder if anyone had turned on their lights due to the loud interruptions from their sleep.

“Oh, Nitta-san,” Itadori called out in surprise as he stared up at the irritated woman.

“She’s lost it,” Kugisaki mentioned, as she too was observing the shouting fit that all four of you were enduring right now.

“Well, shall we go home?” Itadori asked as he turned around to face you, leading the other two first-years to turn to look at you as well causing your eyebrows to raise up

‘Ah...I guess I did think about running away for a second....’

“Yeah, let’s go home,” you answered back before beginning to walk forward leaving Itadori and Kugisaki to talk about having Spendud Sushi as dinner while Nitta was continuing to yell at all four of you from above.

“I know as time passes, the more the Earth will push its fangs upon your shoulder and it’s completely my fault and I deeply apologise from the bottom of my heart. I knew the day that I was blessed with you that I desired nothing more than to give you the easiest route away from all the troubles the Zenin clan had put on us, away from the Jujutsu world and away from the loneliness that you will come face to face once I and your father are gone. I adore you with all my heart and want nothing more than your heart to be blessed with trust, happiness and comfort. Wherever you are, just know that I will always look after you, no matter how long I have to wait, I will always be the mother that I wished I could be for you” - Your mother.

                                               ꕥ

“Why did you leave?”

Turning your head to the side, you found Fushiguro standing on the wooden terrace that you were sitting on with a stern look on his face while you just blinked at him before turning your head to face the garden with a book laying upon your lap as you tried a way to figure out how to bring up the topic that you tried to avoid since coming into acquaintance with the shikigami sorcerer.

“What do you mean?” you asked before closing the book in such a gentle manner, worried that you could damage more than it already was - even if it was such in a good condition after enduring itself for 1000 years.

“Why did you leave? Why did you erase my memory? Why did you go?” Fushiguro queried once again, as he decided to take a seat next to you causing anyone who would see both of you and Fushiguro to notice the contrast in your outfits. At this current moment in time, you were wearing a simple yukata due to being at Gojo’s estate - it was common/courtesy to wear traditional clothing - while Fushiguo was wearing a white jumper with what seemed to be black joggers along with some trainers causing you to come to the assumption that he had either can to talk to you or train with Gojo again like he did last time.

“I’m sorry Fushiguro...but I had to do it,” you answered before grabbing the cup of tea that was sitting right beside you as you then took a sip of the warm drink leading some of your nerves to calm down as you also took a deep breath.

“Why didn’t you stay?” Fushiguro questioned again in a low tone while staring down at the ground trying to compose himself as more memories of you began to steadily flow in.

“It was too risky,” you answered again as you continued to stare at the garden that was blooming in front of you before turning your head to look at your classmate, who seemed to be in deep thought about the response you had just given him.

“I never got to repay you back from the kindness you had given me,” Fushiguro mentioned as he turned his head up to look at you, only to make eye contact leading the memories of your technique to come into his mind.

“I don’t need a repayment, I just did what I wanted to help you,” you replied back as you placed your cup down onto the wooden tray before laying your upper body down on the terrace while your legs were handing off to the side causing your hair to splay across the wooden platform the both of you were sitting on right now.

“But you don’t like helping people,” Fushiguro quickly mentioned as he turned his head to face you, causing your eyes to move from the sky above you to the boy that was now looking at you with a somewhat small smile planted upon his face causing you to remember the conversation that you had with him and Kugisaki about not telling Itadori the reason why numerous amount of cursed fingers that have been popping up recently - making you come to the realisation that he was technically asking you and Kugisaki to help him keep the guilt away from the vessel of Sukuna himself.

“Yeah...I don’t like helping people,” you answered with the same smile as he was presenting you, causing a light giggle to arise from the both of you.

‘I’ll recommend them for a promotion later...’

“Whoever you fall for the sky for, my dear. I wish you nothing but the world’s blessing to fall upon the two of you. May all the flowers that come to bloom will bring you grace and tenderness that you deserve, the same feelings that I wish I could provide to you as a mother like how the sun gives you its warmth” - Your mother.

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[spencestyles]

I’d do anything

summary: spencer is in love with y/n and y/n is in an abusice relationship. will spencer be able to save y/n? love her when she needs him most?

pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader

warnings: ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP DO NOT READ IF NOT COMFORTABLE READING THIS CONTENT, normal case violence

words: 4k+

please do not read if you are uncomfortable with the content of it abuse is a trigger. be mindful of this.

enjoy!!

SPENCER'S POV

"Guys this is my boyfriend, Owen," y/n said to the team on a night out.

For the longest time she and I have been best friends, nothing more. I have been in love with her for a while now, but I have always been too afraid to tell her. Now that she had a boyfriend, I knew I had lost my chances.

"Oh my gosh!" Penelope yelled. "It is so nice to finally meet you! y/n has told us so much about you!"

Owen smiled and gave y/n a side hug, "Hopefully all good things."

"Yes," JJ quickly said. "She makes you seem amazing. Hopefully you can live up to the expectations."

"Hopefully I do not disappoint," Owen replied.

The night continued with the team asking Owen questions. I had met Owen before and he truly was a nice guy. That was the worst part. However as the night continued, y/n acted strange and almost seemed afraid of Owen. She was acting timid, something she has never done, not even in front of an unsub.

Owen went to get y/n a drink so I decided it would be the perfect time to ask y/n, "Are you okay? You've been acting strange, is Owen hurting you?"

"What?" y/n laughed. "Spencer are you okay? Of course not. Owen and I are perfectly fine."

I sighed, "Okay, just checking. Are we still on for Dr Who tomorrow night?"

"When have I ever not showed up for Dr Who?" y/n retorted. "I will obviously come. Nothing can ever come between us and Dr Who."

Owen suddenly came up behind y/n, "Wait, you're hanging with Spencer tomorrow?" Owen asked aggressively. "I thought we were going to do something?"

y/n laughed, "I told you I can't ever hang on certain Fridays because I watch Dr Who with Spencer. I also never agreed to doing something together, I would have never forgotten a Dr Who watch party."

Owen glared at me. Obviously he was angry I was hanging out with y/n.

"I think it's time for us to leave," Owen said, grabbing y/n's arm very hard. "Say goodbye to your friends." Owen walked over to the table with y/n and put on a fake smile. As they walked out the door, I noticed y/n look back at me, tears in her eyes. Something was wrong.

The whole team was sitting at the table talking about something random when I decided to speak up, "How did you guys like Owen?"

A mix of complements were thrown by the girls, but the guys, they didn't seem too impressed. JJ, Emily, and Penelope, all went to get drinks while Rossi, Hotch, Derek, and I stayed at the table.

"What did you guys think of him?" I asked.

"I hated him," Derek said simply. "I saw the way y/n acted around him, much profilers the girls are. She's acting just like someone who has been manipulated and abused."

Hotch nodded, "I agree with Derek. I know we aren't supposed to profile team members, but the girls obviously don't see anything wrong."

"Are you guys sure?" Rossi asked. "I mean he seems very nice and maybe you all just think he is not good because you all wish y/n and Spencer were together."

The guys looked at me as I began to blush profusely, "I don't want to be with y/n that much anymore." They looked at me in disagreement. "Guys I'm serious, she has a boyfriend."

"Yeah and you don't like her," Rossi argued. "Just admit that you still have a crush on her and then if something really happens I will believe you."

"Fine," I sighed. "I still like y/n."

YOUR POV

"What the hell y/n," Owen screamed at you. "What the fuck is Dr Who night? You know I don't like him."

You choked a sob, "Owen it isn't like that. I don't like him, he's my best friend. Please don't hurt me."

"He obviously has something for you and you have something for him," He yelled.

"I d-don't lik-ke him Owen," I whispered. "I promise."

This had become your normal routine. Spencer or some other male would say something and Owen would go crazy. Especially about Spencer. Owen would yell at you and sometimes things would escalate. That unfortunately is how it went tonight.

It started with a push, then a slap. Sometimes it progressed more, but that was rare.

"We are going somewhere," Owen said.

You were being dragged out of the house, "Owen, what?"

"Well since you can't be obedient, I'm going to have to teach you somehow y/n."

And like that you were knocked out unconscious.

SPENCER'S POV

I walked into work carrying a coffee for both y/n and I. I decided to get her a coffee to apologize for last night's irrational decisions. I had come to the conclusion that Owen wasn't actually abusive, I was just jealous.

Derek and Hotch though, not so much.

"Baby girl, that guy is a grade A asshole," Derek said to Garcia. "Can you please just do one background check?"

Penelope sighed, "I can't do that Derek, I promised y/n I wouldn't look into him."

I decided to ignore the conversation and wait for y/n to come in for work. After about thirty minutes of waiting I decided to ask Hotch.

"Hey, is y/n coming in today?" I asked.

"Um, no," he said, pulling out his phone. "I got this strange text though, can you look through it."

"Yeah let me see," I said, walking over to where he set his phone down.

"Agent Hotchner, I will not be able to come into work tomorrow for the case. I have an issue with my tonsils. I am sorry." I recited. "I don't think y/n typed this, maybe we should send someone to her house and to Owen's house."

Hotch groaned, "I'll send Derek and JJ, I am hoping our next case doesn't become y/n. Please continue to look over the text and I'll have Garcia look into Owen."

I nodded and put the text onto the white board so I would be able to write on it.

"Hotch, look at this," I said, Hotch walking over to me. "First, y/n hasn't called you agent Hotchner since her first day here, she usually calls you Hotch or Aaron. Also, y/n got her tonsils removed when she was 7."

"Garcia, have you looked into Owen at all," Hotch asked.

"Yeah a little, but it's all normal," Garcia answered.

Hotch glared at her, "Not enough, do a full deep dive. I don't care what y/n told you not to do, he is hiding something and so is she."

Garcia nodded and went straight to work as Hotch's phone began to ring.

"Morgan, you're on speaker."

"Okay so y/n's apartment was spotless," Morgan said. "But it was also locked, so I don't think she went home to her apartment last night."

JJ began to add on, "Owen's apartment on the other hand, was a mess. Like it looked like there was a robbery of some form. Also, y/n's purse was there."

"Garcia what do you have on Owen?" Hotch asked.

"Owen Winters, he is 42 and from Southern California," Garcia began. "As a child CPS was contacted many times and it looks like his dad killed himself when he was 8. It looks like he has an extensive amount of charges for abuse and harassment, all from his ex-girlfriends."

"Do any of them live near?" I asked.

"Yes, boy wonder, 25 year-old Vanessa Montgomery works in a coffee shop near the white house," Penelope explained.

"What is the coffee shop?" I questioned.

"The Starbucks over on Pennsylvania Ave. near the White House," she answered. "Why?"

"I know her, she is the barista that always gets our order perfect," I replied.

"Morgan and JJ pick her up on your way back," Hotch ordered. "Owen Winters is our new unsub and y/n y/l/n is our newest victim."

I sighed as I began to prepare the questions for Vanessa. I looked over at y/n's desk and decided to start looking through it for any details.

As I walked over to the desk, I looked at the coffee on y/n's desk. I wanted to apologize for something that I was right about. Why didn't she tell me? was the only thing going through my head.

At her desk I noticed some things that I guess I hadn't seen before. On her desk she has four framed pictures. One of her, Hotch and Rossi. Another that was her and the girls. One that was of her, Derek and me, from one of the first cases we had together . The last one however, was the one I had never seen. It was a picture of y/n and me from when she took me to Colorado to ski and hike.

I smiled at the memory,

"Spencer, be careful," y/n yelled as I walked closer and closer to the edge of the cliff.

I laughed, "y/n I'll be fine! Come here, let's take a picture."

"Fine! Spencer I swear if I fall, you are coming down with me."

"For you, y/n, I'd do anything."

I then began to look deeper in her desk. I felt like I was violating y/n's personal space, but this needed to be done. As I looked through her drawers, I wasn't able to find anything that could help. Until I looked in the last drawer.

In this drawer, I found papers for a restraining order that had been filed and denied. y/n was trying to get away from Owen.

"Guys, I found something," I said yelling into the conference room. The team looked at me to continue, "y/n filed a restraining order on Owen but it was denied. The date was two months ago. I was thinking back and y/n has been acting a little strange for the past five months. Owen has to have her."

"Reid, we already established Owen has her, but this ensures that he was abusive," Hotch said.

Emily sighed, "The timeline makes sense. She has been hanging out with us less and she has worn more turtlenecks in the past five months than I have seen anyone ever wear."

"Yeah," Penelope said. "y/n has ditched us for girls night for the past few months. She also got mad at me at team dinner last night when I asked why she wasn't wearing something more revealing."

"Her smiles have been fake," I added. "She smiles at us all the time to brighten our days, but they haven't been as nice, welcoming."

"Well, Reid, it looks like you were correct," Rossi said.

"What do you mean?" JJ asked.

Derek laughed, "Last night when you three went off to get drinks, Reid told us he thought Owen was acting violent with y/n and thought she was acting strange. Hotch and I immediately agreed, but Rossi didn't seem convinced. Rossi thought Reid was just jealous because he has a crush on y/n and he doesn't realize she likes him."

"Derek, not the time," I said sternly.

Emily laughed, "I can't believe you of all people couldn't see it Spencer. y/n is hopelessly in love with you and now she is dating a scumbag because she doesn't think you like her."

I sighed as I began to look over where y/n could be located, thinking about the idea of dating y/n wouldn't help us find her. We had made little progression on this, but we knew it had to be somewhere with significance to either one of them or both of them.

I decided to ask Garcia, "Garcia, have you made any progress on where y/n could be?"

"Yes 187, it looks like Owen owns a small cabin around half an hour from here," Garcia said.

"Okay let's go now," Hotch told us.

Garcia gasped, "Wait there is a live feed. I'm putting it up on the screen."

The video was horrific. y/n was tied to a chair looking almost dead. She had blood falling from above her head and looked like she had been through hell.

"Hello BAU," Owen said to the camera. "I have your dear y/n, but you wont be able to get her. y/n will never be out of my sight ever again. I will not have Dr. Spencer Reid ruin our relationship."

"It's not your fault Spence," y/n said to the camera. My heart clenched. She was in pain and I couldn't be there to help her.

"He is the one in the way of our relationship y/n," Owen yelled. "Of course it is his fault."

"Spencer isn't the issue with our relationship Owen," y/n yelled back. "You are."

Hotch started to grab his things, "She shouldn't have said that, we need to leave now. She is already in danger."

We all ran to the SUVs. I went in a car with Derek and Hotch. Derek drove and broke every traffic law imaginable, making the thirty minute car ride less than twenty. The three of us grabbed out vests and began to run to the cabin.

Suddenly, Hotch stopped me, "Spencer it isn't safe for you to be there."

"Hotch I have to go," I protested.

"Spencer, you are the reason she is there," Hotch said. "It may be Owen's fucked up mind, but you are the trigger that made him angry. y/n loves you more than him and he noticed and now we're here. Stay outside." I decided to not fight and stay outside to wait for the other team members. The other SUV pulled up quickly after us.

"Jesus Christ, that was the fastest I've ever driven," Emily complained. "Spencer what are you doing out here?"

"Morgan and Hotch already moved in, Hotch doesn't want me inside," I explained.

"I'll stay out here with you Kid," Rossi said. I nodded in thanks as I watched Emily and JJ run to the cabin. I stood staring at the cabin. Time had become slow motion. It felt like an eternity watching the movement inside.

I heard Derek yell from the cabin, "MEDIC! WE NEED A MEDIC!" I immediately ran into the cabin. I looked over and saw y/n in Derek's arms, barely breathing. I heard Owen yelling at me, but couldn't focus on anything besides y/n.

"y/n," I said, moving to where I was holding her head. "y/n, I need you to listen to me. I love you, I always have and I am so sorry I never told you."

"Sir, we need you to move," the medic said, trying to move y/n onto the stretcher. I began to move when I felt someone grab my hand. I looked down and noticed it was y/n. She gave my hand three squeezes. I Love You.

With y/n on her way to the hospital and Owen getting taken back to Quantico, Derek, JJ, and I all went to the hospital to keep tabs on y/n while the others closed the case.

I sat in my chair nervous out of my mind. Derek sat next to me trying to calm me down and JJ was across from me.

"Spencer, you need to calm down," Derek told me.

"I can't calm down Derek, y/n could die," I said frantically.

JJ began to laugh, "Did you know the other day y/n told Emily, Penelope, and I, that she wanted kids? Can you imagine that? y/n with kids?"

A tear trickled down my face, "She always told me she wanted two kids, one boy and one girl. y/n would be a great mother."

Derek laughed, "The thing that would make y/n such a great mother if her kids were also yours Pretty Boy. I have known since the beginning you two would have pretty kids." I laughed, but also glared at him.

"y/n y/l/n?" The doctor called. The three of us stood up and the doctor began to walk towards us, "y/n is out of surgery. It was touch and go for a while, but she is stable. There were many noticeable signs of abuse that were old, she has a broken harm and three broken fingers, all of which are old."

I let out a shaky breath, "When can I- we see her?"

"I can only let one person in at a time and I doubt she is awake," the doctor explained. JJ and Derek looked at me, signaling me to go to y/n's room. I followed the doctor to her room.

"It might be a little much to see, she may not look like herself. She is very, very fragile and has wires attached to her," the doctor said before opening the door for me. Walking into the room, the environment was tense. y/n was laying in the hospital bed with wires attached to her and much of her body was wrapped up from the surgery and from her injuries.

I went over and sat next to her bed, grabbing onto her hand, "y/n, you can't hear me but I am here. It's Spencer. I am so glad you are okay, but why didn't you tell me about Owen? I could have done something. WE could have done something. I am just so glad you are safe."

For the rest of the time, I sat there watching her sleep. Not in a creepy way, but to make sure she was safe. I was so pissed at myself for not realizing what Owen was doing earlier. I should have been able to see the warning signs. Some of them were subtle, when she wouldn't hang out with the team or was constantly checking her phone. But some of them should have been immediate red flags, the flinching in front of the unsub or how she always wore clothes to cover herself. I should have known. The team should have known.

I felt y/n's hand move and saw her shift, "Spencer?" she asked.

"y/n," I said breathlessly. "I am right here, but I need to go get a nurse. You are at the hospital, Owen hurt you."

I started standing up to leave, "Spence, no. Don't leave me."

I sighed, looking at her disheveled features, "y/n, I will be right back. You need to see a nurse."

Walking out of the room was painful, hearing her sobs in fear of being hurt again. It pained me to know I was leaving her when she needed me, again.

I walked over to her nurse, "Um y/n y/l/n has woken up, I thought you should know." The nurse said her thanks and walked with me to y/n's room. As we walked in, the sound of y/n's labored breaths became more noticeable.

"Miss y/l/n, we need you to calm down," the nurse said, running to y/n's bedside.

Immediately, I walked over to y/n and held her hand. "Sir, you need to exit the room," the nurse said, ushering me away from y/n. At that moment I didn't know what was worse, hearing y/n's cries or feeling so helpless in the situation.

Suddenly, I felt a presence next to me, "Reid, you need to leave, it's not good for you here."

Derek.

"Derek, I-I-I can't just leave," I stuttered. "I need to be there to help, she's all alone."

"Kid, you need to shower," Derek said.

"No, Derek you don't understand," I said angrily. "I can't just leave her here again. I didn't notice when she was hurt and I need to show that I care."

Derek sighed, "Reid, she knows. She's not going to hate you. No one knew that she was going through that. It's not your fault."

I was about to say something when I say y/n being moved out of her room by doctors, "What is going on?" I asked.

"Miss y/l/n is getting taken back into surgery," the doctor said. "We don't know what happened." I began to hyperventilate. I was freaking out. y/n wasn't alright. She was going to die.

As I began to sob, Derek pulled me into a hug, "She is going to be alright man. You'll get to see her again and talk to her and finally ask her on a date. Does that sound good?"

I unconvincingly nodded my head.

"No, Spencer, don't do that," he said. "Don't doubt the doctors and think about the statistics, y/n is not a statistic."

I nodded, wiping my eyes.

"There you go," Derek smirked. "Now, go take a shower at your house so y/n wont shy away at your scent. Also, maybe get her some flowers. She likes-"

"Pink roses," I interrupted, laughing. "Pink roses are the most difficult flowers to find."

Derek laughed, "At least try to find them."

"For her," I began. "I'd do anything."

After that, I ran to the SUV to head to Quantico and get my car. The car ride felt like forever and I wasn't excited for the possibility of seeing Owen. Thankfully, I didn't see Owen between the time of dropping off the SUV and going to the parking lot to get my car. The car ride to my apartment was short, thank God. I decided to take a quick shower, just wanting to freshen up. I got dressed in my home clothes, which were in fact different from my work clothes, contrary to the belief of most of my team members.

I made it to the flower shop that was down the street from my apartment. I was usually able to find at least one pink rose here, but it was typically very difficult.

"Hello," the shop owner said. "We are close to closing Spencer. Do you need anything in specific?"

"Pink roses," I stated.

The owner laughed, "I'll have to check the back, but don't get your hopes up."

I knew I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up, but I couldn't help myself. y/n loves pink roses and I love y/n.

The owner came back, "You my kind sir, are in good luck. We had one bouquet left of pink roses in the back."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," I said, pulling out my money. The owner nodded as I ran out the door to my car.

Speeding to the hospital, I made it to the waiting room. In the waiting room, I couldn't find the team. They were all there, but they weren't in the waiting room. I decided to go to y/n's room and see if they were near there.

Walking to y/n's room, I heard laughter. I looked into the room and saw the team in there along with y/n, smiling. I knocked on the door and slowly opened it.

"Spence," y/n smiled. "I missed you."

"Well I should get going," JJ began. "I need to go see my boys."

The rest of the team followed with their excuses for leaving y/n and I alone.

"H-hi y/n," I stuttered. "I brought you flowers, h-how are you?"

"I am as good as I can be," y/n laughed, obviously compensating the pain. "Thank you for the flowers Spence, I can't believe you could find them at this hour. You have always told me-"

"10 AM is the best time to buy pink roses," I interrupted. "Sorry."

"It's okay Spence, how are you?" She asked.

"Not that great," I said honestly. "Why didn't you tell us y/n?"

y/n sighed, "It was hard Spencer. I already barely had time alone with you guys and I didn't want to ruin it. Owen was also very scary- a mad man. I felt hopeless Spence, I didn't know what to do. I mean I've seen situations like this all the time in cases, but when it was actually happening I felt like there was nothing to do."

I held on to y/n's hand, giving it small kisses while she continued to talk me through her feelings, "and Spencer, I don't want to be alone tonight. Do you think you could stay?"

"Of course y/n," I answered.

"Thanks Spence, you're the best," she said. We continued to sit in a comfortable silence, watching the new episode of Dr Who on the small television in the corner of the room when y/n spoke up again, "Did you mean it?"

"Did I mean what?" I asked, hoping she didn't mean my love confession.

y/n looked at me, knowing I was avoiding the topic, "When you said you love me Spencer. Did you mean it?"

"Yes," I answered.

"I love you too," She said.

I smiled, "Maybe once you're better Icantakeyoutodinner?"

"Spencer say it slower and I'll answer," y/n laughed. "I couldn't understand you."

"Once you're better maybe I can take you out to dinner?" I asked.

"Of course," y/n said. "But no Indian, if we are going on a date I want to go out somewhere. I want to feel pretty."

"To me, you are the most beautiful girl in the world," I said.

y/n blushed profusely, "I still can't believe you found those pink roses! I bet you had to look all over."

"I did, but for you, I'd do anything."

[elftwink]

no thoughts only taakitz superhero/villain coffeeshop au. taako’s power is shapeshifting but he has a cool gun from lup. kravitz’s power is Big Fuckin Scythe With Unspecified Abilities. also there was no time to get into it but fantasy starbucks isn’t a real starbucks it’s a borderline illegal unaffiliated bootleg starbucks that taako and lup own. like dumb starbucks was.

By all rights, it should have been a fairly routine night for the Reaper. Go out, stop some crimes, arrive just in time to prevent whatever scheme the Mongoose had cooked up this week, exchange some one liners, make some threats that essentially amounted to ‘same time next week?’, the works. A regular Tuesday as a superhero in Neverwinter.

But Kravitz is tired, and more than a little distracted, so he’s not doing so hot on the one liners, and the Mongoose’s attacks are a little closer than they would normally be. He doesn’t even have a good excuse, it’s not like he’s injured, or that he has anything pressing to think of.

It was just— this morning his barista (who he may or may not have been harbouring a small crush on) had mentioned offhand that he thought the Reaper was ‘probably hot under the stupid all-black getup’, and Kravitz didn’t really know what the protocol was for someone complimenting your alter-ego was.

“I think if you were gonna go for the strong silent type, you had to start doing it months ago. Now it’s just acting like an asshole. Are you mad at me?” the Mongoose cuts into his thoughts, firing off another few missiles from his stupid umbrella gun (Umbrastaff, he called it, although it was a gun and not a staff so Kravitz had no idea why he insisted on calling it that).

“We are literally fighting as we speak,” says Kravitz, playing up the cockney accent, spinning his scythe to deflect the missiles off the blade, sending them ricocheting around the room. He’d said something like ‘how can you tell’ to Taako— the barista (well, they’d been on a first name basis for a few weeks, so, Taako), and he’d said ‘I can just tell’ which was not at all helpful in getting Kravitz through the conversation without saying or doing something to give himself away.

He’d almost given Taako his number, but how was he going to justify that? Hey, it’s me under the all black getup. Do you want to go out sometime? As if.

“You can have fights without being fuckin’ rude,” says the Mongoose, firing off another few rounds, which Kravitz deflects again, advancing on him.

“You’re right, sorry. I’m a bit scattered. Not exactly my A game.” As if to prove his point, the Mongoose easily dodges his next couple swings with the scythe, not even bothering to leave his range.

“Clearly. I mean, normally you’re at least close enough that I can feel the breeze from your sword.”

“It’s not a sword, and you know that.” Kravitz brings down the scythe in the space where the Mongoose was only seconds before, having already backflipped out of the way and landed a few metres back. Show off. Not that Kravitz had room to complain about that. The Mongoose spins to face him again, at least this time seemingly aware of what a close call that was. He’s tense, and his hair, which Kravitz supposes has thus far been hidden underneath his costume, has come somewhat unravelled, black braid falling to the middle of his back.

It seems... familiar?

He doesn’t have time for that right now. Kravitz draws back the scythe, feeling the hum of energy under his fingers, swinging again, and—

“Wait! Time out!” the Mongoose puts up a hand and Kravitz, for who knows what reason, stops his scythe mid-swing. The familiarity sticks, so it’s not just a trick of the light. It takes him a second to place, but the hairstyle... it looks a lot like a certain barista he’d been spending all night thinking about.

He shakes his head, trying to clear it. It’s because he has Taako on the brain, is all. Besides, he has other things to worry about besides seeing his crush in his enemy. Namely the fight currently happening with said enemy. “What? You can’t call a time out.”

“I just did,” says the Mongoose, fishing through his pockets and pulling out several bobby pins, sticking them in his mouth so he can use both hands to fix his hair. Kravitz blinks, still trying to shake off the sense of deja vu, but it won’t quit nagging him. “It’s a whole safety issue to leave long hair down.”

“It’s still in a braid,” retorts Kravitz.

“Somebody never took Foodsafe.” the Mongoose gives him a lopsided grin that Kravitz fucking knows he’s seen before, and suddenly it’s more than just passing familiarity, and how could he possibly have not noticed before, and— the Mongoose finishes putting up his hair, raising an eyebrow at Kravitz and his private crisis. “Alright. Ready—”

“You work at Fantasy Starbucks,” blurts Kravitz, without even thinking about it. The Mongoose stops dead in his tracks, and Kravitz can see his eyes widen even behind the mask. He splutters for a moment, and then seems to find his footing, already ready with a snarky remark.

“Yeah, well— your accent is fake.”

Shit. He’d forgotten. At the only time so far that having it would have been useful too. Still, he pushes it out of his mind; the Mongoose hadn’t denied it. And, well, he’s already solidly derailed this fight, so he might as well get some real confirmation out of it.

“...Taako? It is you, isn’t it?”

“Just who the fuck are y—” The Mongoose— Taako— levels the Umbrastaff at him, and then stops again. “...Kravitz?”

Well. Shit. Again. Kravitz doesn’t bother to affirm that; his silence is more than enough confirmation. One of them has to say or do something, but the seconds stretch on.

“You’re telling me I said all that shit to your face this morning?” says Taako.

“That’s what you’re worried about right now?”

“Uh, yeah—” Taako is backing up now, and they’ve fought enough times that Kravitz knows when the Mongoose is looking for an escape route; Kravitz’s feet still feel glued to the floor, even when Taako reaches the window, fingers already turning to talons around the Umbrastaff. Taako breaks the glass (because of course he does, even though the windows aren’t even fucking locked), breaking eye contact with Kravitz in order to swing his legs through the window before his form changes too much. “Look, this is like, a lot right now, and I— I’m getting the fuck out of here,” he says, and then drops. Whatever had been keeping Kravitz in place, slack jawed, ends as soon as Taako leaves his sight, and he’s moving before he has time to think about it.

“Wait—!” Kravitz runs for the window, but by the time he gets there, the bird clutching the Umbrastaff is nearly out of sight.

Well. That could have gone better.

***

Kravitz doesn’t go for his coffee the next day. Or the next day, either, although the day after that he’s sick of making his own coffee. And frankly, he misses chatting with Taako. Even if the guy was trying to kill him like once a week. He couldn’t just avoid this forever.

Still, the fact that Taako is working cash when he comes in makes him want to turn tail and run back home. He conjures up the memory of yesterday’s shitty coffee and pushes onward. The shop is mostly empty still, so there’s no line.

“The usual?” says Taako, like nothing abnormal has happened.

“Please,” says Kravitz, and then, before he can chicken out entirely, adds, “Uhm, do you have a few minutes?”

“My shift isn’t over until—”

“I’ll cover you,” comes Lup’s voice from the back room; she pokes her head out and gives Taako a look that is clearly significant, but that Kravitz can’t quite puzzle out. “Take five minutes after you’re done making his coffee.”

Taako scowls at her, and she smiles brightly before heading to the back again.

“Okay. I guess I have five minutes. Talk to you after I make your coffee.”

Kravitz nods, and goes to hover around the pickup counter, pretending to be interested in things on his phone. Taako makes his coffee in a ceramic mug, which at least means he doesn’t want Kravitz to get the fuck out as soon as possible, so that’s... something.

Taako slides the finished coffee across the counter, circling around to join Kravitz on the customer side as Kravitz grabs the mug.

“Lup!” he hollers, and then starts walking towards one of the corner booths without checking to see if his sister is headed to cash or if Kravitz is following. Kravitz does, though, sliding himself into the seat opposite Taako, hands wrapped tightly around the mug.

Taako speaks first. “To be honest, I kinda thought you would rat me out.”

“That would be shitty of me, to just sic authorities on your place of work without so much as a warning.”

“So is this the warning?”

“No,” says Kravitz, taking a sip of his coffee, “I... can’t really make coffee without burning it. And this is the only place for miles with tolerable muffins.”

Taako cracks a grin, like Kravitz knew he would. “Flattery will get you nowhere.” His smile falls, and he crosses his arms and leans back. “So. Reaper. Why didn’t you rat me out?”

Why indeed. Kravitz takes another sip of his coffee and thinks for a second, not even sure himself what his explanation will be once he starts talking.

“It didn’t seem... fair. You’re less of a villain and more of a pain in my ass—” Kravitz ignores Taako’s indignant noise and keeps talking, “—and while we always have cause to fight when on the clock, you’re not doing anything that I feel needs to leave the bounds of those... work hours, I guess.”

Taako is trying to pick him apart with his gaze; it’s something he’s been subjected to several times, although normally in costume, and in retrospect it’s difficult to imagine how he spent so long not noticing the Mongoose in Taako.

Whatever Taako is looking for, he must find it, because he relaxes a bit, and shoots him a lazy grin. “Plus, Mongoose related insurance just got rolling and it would be fuckin’ rude to take me out of commission before anyone got to use theirs.”

Kravitz laughs. “Sure.” He’s silent for a second, before adding, “You aren’t planning on revealing my secret identity, are you? Awfully rude of you to double cross me like that.”

“Wha— You didn’t even give me a chance to respond! Maybe I wasn’t!”

“Were you?”

“I was,” admits Taako, not even pretending to look sheepish. Kravitz raises his eyebrows, and Taako shrugs. “Oh, like you didn’t think about revealing my secret identity? And could you imagine the hype if I unmasked the Reaper? I was tempted.” He sighs. “But I figured then you’d have no reason to keep my identity a secret. No way am I risking a backfire like that.”

It sounds callous, but Kravitz has been talking to Taako almost daily for months; at this point, he can pretty reliably pick up on when Taako isn’t being entirely truthful about something.

“Hmm. Then I suppose it’d be in my best interest not to tell you that I wouldn’t reveal your identity even if you revealed mine?”

Taako narrows his eyes. “Why not?”

Kravitz makes a face. “It’s just in poor taste. I just think we all go through all the trouble to hide who we are and use these powers for good— or whatever it is you do— that it’s always going to be such a low blow to reveal who we are. There might be times where it’s necessary, but petty revenge is not one of them.”

Taako’s expression hasn’t changed; if anything, he’s narrowed his eyes more. “God, you are like— fuckin’ irritatingly nice. Fine. I wasn’t going to reveal your identity. That would be fuckin’ annoying to deal with. Plus I’m having fun.”

“Fun?”

“Oh don’t— don’t fucking lie to me. I know you’re having fun out there too. With your stupid accent and one liners and shit.”

“Alright, alright,” says Kravitz, rolling his eyes. “But I’m not supposed to be having fun, so keep it quiet.”

“See, that’s why I market myself as a villain. No dumb rules.” He puts an elbow on the table and leans on his hand. “Why do you have a fake accent anyway?”

Heat rises to Kravitz’s face, and he’s hoping he looks less embarrassed than he feels. “It’s my— I do it so people don’t recognize my voice.”

Taako laughs. “Well, it doesn’t really do that if you immediately stop using it when you realize you might know someone.”

“I was caught off guard!” defends Kravitz. “It’s not every day you find out your nemesis is your barista.”

“Nemesis, huh?” Taako grins. “Didn’t realize it was that serious to you. You know I have other heroes to fight.”

Kravitz rolls his eyes again. “I don’t see how you have the time, considering how often you’re causing trouble for me.”

Taako laughs, and it’s so contagious and the whole conversation is so surreal Kravitz can’t help but laugh too, before they both lapse into a comfortable, if drawn out, silence.

“So, uh,” says Taako eventually, “what now?”

“Well,” says Kravitz, “I want to keep coming in for coffee in the mornings. And I assume the Mongoose will continue with... whatever chaos it is you currently have planned.”

“It’s not chaos,” insists Taako, “I have plans. But yeah. And I assume the Reaper is gonna show up and throw a wrench in those plans?”

“Yes, probably. So we’ll just be enemies by night...” Kravitz trails off, not entirely sure how to refer to their by day relationship. Friends? Potential love interests? Acquaintances? There’s a few seconds of awkward silence before Kravitz gives up entirely.

Taako pulls and pen and a napkin out of his pocket, jotting something down and pushing it towards Kravitz.

“Here’s, uh, here’s my number. If you give me a heads up five minutes before you get here, we can have your coffee ready by the time you walk in. If you’re nice to me out there.”

“I don’t take bribes,” says Kravitz, grabbing the napkin and pulling out his phone to type in the number.

“That wasn’t a bribe, it was a threat. You don’t even wanna know what I’ll do to your coffee if you fuck me up.”

Kravitz doesn’t bother to point out that neither of them have ever caused any extreme bodily harm to one another and instead says, “So you’re asking me to go easy on you? I thought you were having fun.” He sends Taako a ‘hey it’s kravitz’ text before he has time to second guess himself.

“Could you stop poking holes in my threats? You’re harshing my fuckin’ vibe, Krav.” He sounds irritated, but Kravitz can see the smile tugging at his lips as he texts Kravitz a couple of skull emojis. “I should get back to work before my sister kicks my ass,” he says, standing back up. “I’ll see you tonight, nemesis.” Then he turns on his heels and heads back to the counter, saying something to Lup as he walks by. Kravitz watches him disappear into the back room.

Tonight.

Kravitz had better make sure he had hung his cloak up to dry.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 4 - Making Believe [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: A lot can happen in a coffee shop. 

Series Masterlist

Considering all the missions your superiors had sent you, this wasn’t the first one to make you end up with a gunshot wound, but it was the first one that you were assigned to seduce the target and ended up with a gunshot wound as a first impression.

Now that you had met Bucky, the next step would be easier. You just hoped he wouldn’t suspect something was up like General kept warning you about, so you had to make sure to memorize every single detail of your cover story.

Instead of being a trained assassin, you were now working in a milkshake shop.

Instead of having lived there your whole life, you were now clueless about the city since you had recently moved there.

Instead of liking horror movies, you now loved rom-coms.

New identity, new apartment, new car, new everything. It was as if the real you had never existed, but none of that was your biggest issue right now.

It was your new uniform for the milkshake shop.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered to yourself, looking in the mirror before fixing your skirt. Even after a week, you still weren’t used to wearing it, the uniform was some sort of a retro diner waitress costume with red and white stripes, cinched waist and a white apron over the short skirt. “I’m going to kill whoever picked this after I’m done with the mission.”

“Y/N?” Chloe called out from the living room, “Come on, we need to go over everything for today.”

You ran a hand over your face and walked to the living room to find your two best friends sprawling on the couch. Keith let out a laugh as soon as he saw you in that outfit, but managed to hide it by pressing his fist on his lips while Chloe kicked at his boot.

“I didn’t say anything!” He held up his hands, “Will you break my phone again if I take a picture?”

“Yeah,” you pointed at him, “I will, so don’t even.”

“We need to go over the plan,” Chloe said, “Today is the day you accidentally run into Barnes, he’ll be at that coffee shop.”

“How do you know where he will be?”

Chloe scoffed, “Hello? I’m a genius hacker?”

Keith sat up straighter, turning the pages of your file.

“Okay so,” he said, “You guys will probably make some small talk, let’s have some practice. Pretend I’m Bucky, how will you talk about yourself?”

“We don’t need to practice it, it’s not my first rodeo,” you reminded him “I got this.”

“Y/N, no offense but he isn’t some clueless civilian okay? The guy was going after targets before you or your parents were born for that matter. The tiniest mistake could tip him off.”

“He has a point.”

“Fine,” you sighed, fixing your nametag, “Let’s practice then.”

Keith took a deep breath and cleared his throat, “Look at that, we ran into each other again.”

You frowned at his deep voice, “Bucky doesn’t sound like one of those robots in the Terminator, Keith.”

“I’m in the zone, just go with it,” he said as offered you his hand, and you shook it.

“Yeah, hi again.”

“I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“Oh that’s normal, I just moved here. A month ago.”

“You just moved here?” he repeated “Really? Did you get used to the city yet?”

“A little.”

“I bet your family misses you.”

“Not really, I grew up with my grandmother. She passed away last year.”

“Any siblings?”

“No.”

Keith raised his brows, “Can you be less specific?”

“Keith—“

“You’re not acting like a civilian right now, you’re acting like a spy who has been forced to socialize and he will see right through that,” he told you. “You have to give him more details, civilians talk about themselves a lot.”

“It’s true,” Chloe said, “Once I was in this speed dating thing and just- don’t ask. They don’t stop talking about themselves.”

Keith pursed his lips only for a moment, stealing a look at Chloe before turning to you,

“Let’s try again. Any siblings?”

You rolled your eyes, “Unfortunately not. I’m an only child but when I was a kid, I kept begging my parents for a sister. My mom asked me what would happen if I got a brother, apparently I went like “but mommy, you can give him back then!””

“There we go, embarrassing childhood memories,” Keith grinned, “Good idea.”

You checked your wristwatch, “I gotta run,” you said, “You guys can see yourselves out.”

“I was actually hoping I could stay a little more,” Chloe said, “To make this place look a bit more appropriate. I suppose you’ll bring him here at some point?”

You pulled your brows together, looking around. “Yeah, so? There’s a bedroom.”

“Ever the romantic, this one,” Keith said and Chloe shook her head,

“Y/N, he needs to see something personal otherwise he might get suspicious.”

You pursed your lips, deep in thought, “You mean like sex toys?”

“Oh Jesus…”

“Contrary to popular belief, when people say they want to see something personal, they don’t refer to sex toys.” Keith stated helpfully, “That being said, we’re all screwed if you end up falling for a civilian, you have no idea how to act like one.”

“I meant personal as in stuff to make your place look more homely,” Chloe explained, “Things from your cover’s past that show him we didn’t fabricate this whole identity.”

“Even if we did,” Keith mumbled under his breath and she nodded.

“Even if we did. He needs to see something personal when he comes here, like…” she motioned at the walls, “Like your childhood pictures or your art projects from when you were seventeen.”

“I was learning how to use a pencil as a knife when I was seventeen, Chloe.”

“Exactly. Just let me handle it, I’ve been watching so many makeover shows lately.”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Knock yourself out,” you said, “I have milkshakes to fill, see you guys later.”

“Go get him tiger!”

“You got this!” Chloe called out as you walked to the door, “Just be confident and your milkshake will bring all the ex-assassins to the yard!”

You let out a small laugh, then closed the door behind you before throwing your shoulders back and going down the stairs.

                                                         ***

Approaching the target as your training taught you had to have certain steps. You couldn’t just implant yourself in their life, you had to wait until they thought it was their choice to include you in their lives. Sometimes it took more time than you had patience for, but in the end it was worth it.

Seeing that Bucky Barnes was no civilian, every single step had to be checked twice.

Well the uniform would help the mission, at least a little.

A distracted target was a good target.

You lowered the binoculars before pushing them into your purse and fixing the apron wrapped around your waist. Bucky was sitting with Sam at the coffee shop and they seemed to be in a deep discussion, not even aware of what was going on around them. You took a deep breath and approached the door before you pushed it, then slowly made your way to the barista.

“Hi, can I get a cappuccino please? Small.” You smiled at her and went to the counter on the right to wait for your order. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Sam looking at you with a frown before saying something to Bucky, nodding in your direction. You kept your eyes on the counter, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet before you scratched around the tape of the bandage over the bullet wound absentmindedly.

Come on…. you thought Come on, approach me already, just come here….

“Here you go, miss.”

“Thank you,” you said, taking the cup off the counter before you started pouring sugar into it just to stall, and finally heard someone clear their throat behind you.

Bingo.

You looked over your shoulder and turned around, your jaw dropping.

“Come on,” you let out a giggle, “Is this real?”

Bucky smiled slightly and pursed his lips together as if he wasn’t familiar with the gesture, “Uh…hi.”

“Hi!” you said, your voice way too high pitched for a moment, “Wow. We meet again, my hero.”

His smile widened and he rubbed the back of his neck, “How’s your arm?”

“Healing,” you ran a finger over the tape of the bandage, “I didn’t die, that’s something. But the doctor said that was the worst bullet wound he had ever seen in his life.”

Bucky frowned, “Wait, really?”

“No, I’m just trying to look badass,” you admitted, making him chuckle, “They didn’t even think it needed stitches.”

“Ah,” he said and motioned at your uniform, “So you’re a…?”

You scrunched up your nose in what you hoped to be a cute manner and shot him an abashed look, “I know. I thought the exact same thing when I first saw myself in it.”

“I doubt that,” he mumbled more to himself and you tilted your head, batting your lashes.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, “So the uniform?”

“I work at this milkshake shop just around the corner,” you said, “Apparently retro shops are popular nowadays. It’s supposed to look like this pin up style— can you tell me what’s wrong with the dress so that I can tell the owner what a ridiculous idea it is?”

He opened his mouth and closed it again, looking you up and down, “I don’t- it’s-“ he stammered “You know, it was such a long time ago. I think it looks perfectly fine.”

“Does it?”

“Absolutely.”

You grinned at him, “Well in any case, you should drop by sometime. Milkshakes are better than the uniform, I promise.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded, “Yeah! I would’ve invited you sooner but by the time I was done at the hospital you had already left, and they also told me you paid for the whole thing and the taxi, so…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he waved a hand, “It’s nothing.”

You bit down on your lip, “If you don’t mind me asking,” you said softly, “Why did you leave in a hurry? I mean obviously you didn’t have to stay, I’m sure you’re very busy and—“

“No no, it’s nothing like that,” Bucky cut you off, “I just didn’t want you to think you owed me anything, that’s all.”

“Huh,” you clicked your tongue, “I see. I was wondering what the catch was, didn’t have to wait that long. That’s good to know.”

He raised his brows, amused for some reason, “What’s the catch?”

“You’re too much of a gentleman.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not really,” you taunted him “Just unfamiliar.”  

His gaze lingered on you as you took a sip of your coffee, keeping your eyes on him.

“I hope you got home safe though,” he said after a beat and you thought for a moment.

“I did, and now I know to stay away from dark alleys in New York,” you said, “Lesson learned I’d say.”

“You’re not from around here?”

“I- no, I actually moved here just a month ago,” you said, “I grew up in a small town, we didn’t really have robbers or anything. And I managed to get mugged within the first thirty days in a big city. A true New York experience, I feel like I belong here already.”

“Your folks must be losing their minds if you attract trouble that fast in the city.”

“No one is losing their minds, it’s just me,” you said and when you saw his quizzical glances, you felt the need to explain. “I grew up with my grandma and I lost her a year ago, so…”

“I’m sorry.”

“Ah it’s okay,” you said, “She wouldn’t want me to live in sadness, she told me that herself. You can’t focus on what ifs, you know? We just decide what to do with the time left for us and that’s it. Past would drive all of us crazy otherwise.”

He looked almost surprised at your take on loss and when you saw the soft light in his eyes, you knew you had just hit jackpot.

“You’re a glass half full kind of person, huh?”

Nope, I’m more of a “use the glass as a weapon” kind of person.

“Yeah,” you said, “There are enough pessimists in the world, and they don’t need me within their ranks. No one really did anything nice by thinking the worst anyways.”

“Oh you were definitely not raised here.”

Your jaw dropped, “You know what Mr. Barnes, I’d take that as an offense but lucky for you, you saved me the other day, so I’ll let that slide.”

“Mm hm,” He looked like he was struggling with himself not to laugh, “Lucky me.”

You narrowed your eyes at him playfully, then checked your wristwatch.

“I should probably go, my boss cares a lot about punctuality,” you said, “But is it okay if I gave you my number?”

He stared at you for a couple of seconds as if he couldn’t believe you.

“Wait- really?”

“I mean I was going to wait until you asked me, but apparently you’re too much of a gentleman,” you joked as he hastily grabbed his phone from his pocket and handed it to you. You typed in your number, then saved it.

Y/N (The Milkshake Girl)

Bucky tilted his head, his brows furrowed, “What, you didn’t think I’d recognize your name?”

“Well it’s better to be safe than sorry,” you joked, “Besides you should really come by sometime. We have the best chocolate milkshakes. It’s on the house.”

He smiled, “I will.”

You took a step, then held your breath and turned around as if you had just remembered something.

As if it wasn’t all practiced.

“But not after 4 on Mondays and Wednesdays,” you said, “I volunteer at the soup kitchen then.”

That light in his eyes was almost gentle, as if he was worried he could hurt you just by looking at you, but couldn’t stop himself from doing so.

“I’ll see you not after 4 on Mondays and Wednesdays then,” he said and you giggled, then turned around and walked to the door. Sam was watching you with a small, proud grin on his lips so you waved at him and left the coffee shop, still holding the warm cup tightly in your hand.

As soon as you were sure you were out of their sight, you dropped the smile, exhaled a relaxed breathe and grabbed your phone to touch the contact on the screen.

“I’m sorry, our delivery service is down right now,” the voice said and you scratched around the tape on your arm before telling her the code;

“That’s okay, I can wait until the rain stops.”

There was a click on the other line and soon enough you heard the assistant’s voice.

“Hello?”

“This is Shrike, put me through the General.”

“Of course, a second please,” she said and you tossed the cup into the garbage can, then General’s voice reached you.

“Shrike?”

“Sir, I just called to inform you that I’ve contacted the target for the second time,” you said, “Everything is going according to plan, my report will be on your desk by tonight.”

“He didn’t suspect anything?”

“No sir.”

“Okay,” he said, “Don’t move too fast, alright? We don’t want to spook him.”

“Of course.”

“And Shrike?” he said, “Good job.”

A smile lit up your face, “Thank you sir,” you said and hung up, closing your eyes and leaning back to the wall.

“Okay,” you whispered to yourself, “You got this, he’s just another target. Let the games begin.”

Chapter 5

[etherrealoblivion]

Drive Me Insane

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer Reid is always getting on your nerves. Tensions rise and one day, he pulls you into the file room and snaps… just not in the way you think….

A/N: Early-Season-Twelve!Spencer. this is full-on HATE SEX fulfilling this request by @safertokiss and this request by @mggswhore. It’s rough and v sexy and angsty. Gif is mine! Enjoy! <3

tags: smut, penetrative sex, hate sex, enemies to lovers, angry sex.

RATING: EXPLICIT

Words: 4,363

MASTERLIST

~

You fucking hated him! You HATED him!

“REID!” storming out of the elevator, you headed straight for the desk of the asshole who had pulled the worst prank ever. “What the fuck is this?!” you screamed, slamming your coffee cup down on his desk, the beverage slightly spilling onto his work papers.

“Hey!”

“Don’t you fucking ‘hey’ me!” you were trembling with anger, bouncing on the balls of your feet and trying to ignore the people staring around you. “Explain yourself!”

The little cockfuck put on the most innocent expression you’d ever seen him manage. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, more to the onlookers than you. “Is there a problem?”

“Did you put him up to this? Did you tell him to write that?”

“Write what?”

Huh. He actually looked genuinely confused. But you weren’t buying it. You knew how evil he could be, always teasing you, correcting you, moving your stuff around, pulling pranks. If it weren’t for his stupid, pouty face, you’d slap the look right off of it. Oh, and you were coworkers but that was honestly more of an afterthought.

When it came to Spencer Reid, there was nothing that could stop you from exacting your revenge. Except maybe Unit Chief Emily Prentiss. Who, conveniently, hadn’t arrived yet.

“Don’t bullshit me, Reid! You fucking told the barista downstairs to give me some phony number! What’s the joke? I call it and it’s a phone sex line? A suicide hotline? What?!”

But Spencer simply stared at the cup, mouth dropped open and staring at the ten neatly written digits gracing the side of your coffee cup, a little heart to the side of them.

Clearing his throat, he finally spoke, “I didn’t… I didn’t do this, Y/N.”

A refute to that was on the tip of your tongue but he suddenly looked at you and you noticed a slight tint to his cheeks that for some reason, had you believing him.

“Wait…. You mean…?”

“Yep.” He stood suddenly, chair flying out from behind him with the force with which he stood. “Looks like you’ve got an admirer. Excuse me,” he grunted, storming off down the hall, leaving you thoroughly perplexed.

“What…. What just happened?”

Tara approached you, placing a light hand on your shoulder.

“You got a dude’s number and thought it was a prank by Reid. Happens to the best of us.”

Well, yeah, that was rather obvious. You were more referring to the fact that he had stormed off once he came to the same realization.

But, as always, before you could think for too long, Garcia sent out a mass text alerting you to a new case. Your contemplation would have to wait for another time.

~

“Maybe he just didn’t want anyone to see him?”

The team was gathered around a roundtable in the dingy police office of Wamego, Kansas, discussing why the unsub was dumping the bodies so far on the outskirts of town.

“No, that doesn’t make sense,” Reid blurted, gesturing toward a map of the area. “There are more than enough areas to hide a body within the town’s limits. Plus, he dumped in the middle of the day so being seen isn’t his issue, he can hide easily in plain sight. The edge of town somehow connects to his comfort zo…. What?”

He trailed off once he noticed the grumpy look on your face. It wasn’t like you could help it! He was always refuting every little thing you said and constantly interrupting everyone.

“Well, Reid, if he’s so interested in the edge of town, why are all his victims abducted from the town square?”

Spencer stepped closer to you, eyes narrowing and lips turning downward.

“Maybe, Y/N,” he bit back, “he’s not picking these women at random, but targeting those he sees that look so obviously vulnerable. His end goal is to dominate them.”

“Seriously? Alexa Wells was a blue belt in karate and Tala Williams took a regular self-defense class. There was nothing vulnerable about these women at all!”

“If you weren’t so busy fretting over their physical capabilities maybe you would have noticed, they both possess a petite stature, making them more susceptible to attack.”

He was towering over you and staring at you with anger in his eyes. You, too, were having to fight back the urge to scream at him.

“So, what, you’re saying everyone with a small stature is asking to be dominated!”

“Nope, just you.”

He looked more shocked at his words than you did, taking a step back and glancing around the room for a moment before referring back to the map.

“I’m-I’m saying that the-the victims were all-all small—of-of small stature and that’s a-that’s a connection. Excuse me.”

And he bustled out of the room, leaving behind an audience of your coworkers whose gaze fell on you. Uncomfortable with the weight of their eyes on you, you excused yourself as politely as you could despite the anger and confusion rising in your throat. You didn’t return until you managed to compose yourself, and by then, the team had a new lead and Reid’s outburst was forgotten.

But not by you.

~

If the word ‘hate’ was a face, to you, it’d be Reid’s. To be fair, his face did possess a very… slappable quality. But, of course, you’d never act on that impulse. He never could quite push you to that edge. But, oh god, he got close sometimes.

Jesus. It was nearly 6:00 AM and you’d gotten a text about fifteen minutes ago from Garcia, summoning you in. Now, sitting in the briefing room, your thoughts had begun to wander into very vulnerable territory.

“Y/N?”

His voice grated your ears like sandpaper, the perfect tool to snap you out of your reverie. Why the hell did he have to arrive so goddamn early? 

“Yes, Reid?” you replied, putting on the most bored voice you could manage, not even bothering to spare him a glance as he sat down in the seat immediately next to you, shrugging off his shoulder bag.

“Why are you here so early?”

You looked at him, startled by the question. Who the hell was he to ask you that? He came in early all the time and you never bothered him about it.

“None of your business,” you snorted, glancing down at your phone, trying to get back to reading your article. But with Reid in the room, it was hopeless.

“Jeez. Okay. I was just asking a question. You know, when someone is so defensive it actually has a lot to do with their social life. Usually, they aren’t getting enough mental stimulation outside of work and in rare cases, it attributes directly to whether or not they’ve been receiving enough pleasurable intercourse.”

He nodded curtly as he finished, his own gaze dropping to a regular manilla folder, not even taking in your expression of pure shock. He must’ve found your silence startling enough because soon after, he looked up at you, crooking an eyebrow.

“What?” Quickly, his expression shifted to a mix of understanding and his cheeks went red so quickly. “Oh! I wasn’t saying that-that-that you weren’t… that you aren’t… I mean, not that you are… I just mean that….”

“What, you’re saying I’m not getting fucked properly?”

His mouth dropped open just as Rossi and Alvez entered, conversing loudly enough to miss your snarky comment. Clearly, though, they could detect the charged atmosphere in the room.

“Are we interrupting?” Rossi, the bastard, asked coolly, taking a seat as Luke did the same.

“Nope,” you smirked as more of the team entered. “Not at all.”

Although there was a pressing case to focus on, you couldn’t help but glance at Reid a little more often than usual.

~

“Alvez, Lewis, you two talk to the parents. Reid, Y/L/N, go to the BDSM shop and see what they can tell us about the whip.”

The urge to roll your eyes and groan was almost too great. Being in a car with Reid for too long gave you hives and as you typed the address into your phone, you glared at your phone for displaying the time to get there as a whole half hour. In a car. Alone. With Reid.

Strangely enough, it had been about a week or so since he’d made any snarky comments to you, seemingly preferring to keep his distance. You wondered what being stuck in a car together would be like. Hopefully quiet. Silent, ideally.

You really shouldn’t have raised your expectations.

“So, the whip is actually a pretty common item so if he paid with cash, it’s likely there won’t be much of a trail. If you wanna wait in the car, I understand, I can just run in and get the info.”

Huh?

“Why would I wait in the car?” That might’ve been the first genuine question you’d ever asked him excluding when you’d first met and asked his name. Since then, it had been a whirlwind of sarcasm and rhetoric.

“Y/N, it’s a sex shop,” he said, a slight glance over to you as his fingers tightened on the steering wheel slightly.

“And?”

“Well… I mean, you don’t wanna go in there.”

“Says who? Reid, it’s part of the job. I’m not scared of sex like you are.”

That got him stuttering, huffing and puffing, and trying to backtrack so fast he might as well have thrown the car in reverse. But you had arrived before you knew it, settling into an empty spot right in front of the store.

“I-I’m not s-scared of… of… I’m not scared of that!”

Unbuckling your seatbelt, a surge of confidence rushed through you as you exited the car, quickly quipping, “Oh, I can tell judging by how easy it is for you to talk about. It’s okay, Reid. Not everyone can handle dominating someone. Certainly not someone as submissive as yourself.”

As you entered the shop, you could feel his tension next to you the whole time you questioned the woman at the front desk. But there was something… off about it. It was like he wasn’t nervous being in the shop, he had no issue making eye-contact with the witness, speaking calmly and coolly, and not avoiding looking at the various sex toys scattered about. No, he was nervous about something else. Something you had said?

But it wasn’t like you didn’t tease him ruthlessly and regularly anyway. Had you struck a nerve? What was different?

Maybe he just didn’t like talking about sex stuff with you. It made sense, he hated your guts. Still…. There was something.

Something that didn’t get brought back up again until a week later, when the two of you were sitting at your desks during a lunch break with everyone gathered around, conversing quietly. Then Alvez had to go and stir the pot like the little pot-stirrer he was.

“Well, I’d have killed to see how Reid acts in a sex shop. Hey, Y/L/N, please tell me there were lots of dildos,” he joked, earning a laugh from the majority and a groan from Reid.

“Actually, he was much less freaked out than I expected. I assume it’s because he didn’t know what half the stuff in there was.”

Sparing a glance at Reid, you were startled to find he wasn’t looking away in embarrassment, but staring straight at you, glaring daggers.

The laughter bubbling up inside your throat at the teasing immediately subsided, replaced with a sudden rush of… fear? No, that can’t be right. You weren’t scared of Spencer Reid. The guy was harmless. Right?

“Can I talk to you privately, Y/N?” he hadn’t said it like a question you could say no to, rising from his seat and storming off to the file room.

Resistance was futile, and in this case, unnecessary, because whatever Reid had to say to you in that room, you could easily turn against him. Ricocheting his remarks came so naturally sometimes you didn’t even notice you were doing it.

You entered the filing room, fully expecting to see Reid shuffling papers and mumbling, working up the courage to yell at you.

Which is why you didn’t expect to be shoved up against the door as it slammed shut behind you, Reid pinning his hands on either side of your head, holding your faces inches apart. Your breath left and so did the words you’d been rehearsing on the short walk to the small room. You felt your mouth drop open and your gaze unintentionally fell to his lips. It took you a minute to realize he’d been talking. Desperately trying to play back what he’d said, you felt your earlier anger rise back up in your throat.

“What’s your problem with me? Huh?” he was unrelentingly forcing you to meet his eyes. “Why are you always coming after me for the stuff I say? Jesus, you’d think you’d show me a little compassion sometimes, but nooooo. Little miss princess just gets off so good making the team punching bag feel like a piece of shit.”

At his words, you finally found your voice.

“Me? You’re always the one fucking correcting me and bossing me around! You pick fights with me all the goddamn time!”

“Name one time.”

“Hmm, let me see, the time you told Garcia you needed her to hack my phone for a case! The time you fucking told me I was asking to be dominated. Just last week you assumed I didn’t wanna go into a sex shop because, what, I’m too innocent? Or maybe you just want to think of me that way and you hate that it’s not true. Hey, how about the time you pulled me into the file room and pinned me up against the door like a goddamn butterfly?”

You were getting to him, you could tell. His face had slackened but his gaze was much stronger, scrutinizing all of your features carefully.

“You know what else? You’re the only one on the team that calls me by my first name. And I have no idea why! Is it just to bother me or do you actually just not care about giving me any indicators that you respect me? I’ve been a profiler for ten years now and I still can’t read you for shit! You’re so fucking hot and cold you give me freezer burn! Christ, Reid. Sometimes I can’t tell whether you wanna fight me or fuck me!”

Three seconds. That was the time it took you to register that his lips were suddenly on yours, biting and nipping, tongue fighting to get into your mouth.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the FUCK!

Okay, listen… Normally, if someone you hated with all your heart pressed you up against a door and started to make out with you with the force of a thousand suns, you’d do what any sane person would do; shove them off of you and kick them in the junk. 

But Spencer Reid drove you fucking insane.

So, when you suddenly found your hands grabbing his face and pulling him in closer to you, opening your mouth enough to let him devour you whole, it wasn’t all that much of a rational decision. In fact, a whole series of irrational decisions happened in quick succession. 

He was pressing you against the door so harshly, it felt safe to let your feet leave the ground, legs coiling around his hips and gasping into his mouth as you felt his length brush your inner thigh. Fuck, he was hard. Oh god. The pressure must have caused your mind to really comprehend what in the fuck was happening here. 

Spencer Reid was kissing you up against a wall at work. But that wasn’t even the weird part. The weird part was... you actually liked it.

So, pushing down the thoughts of what a terrible idea this was, your hands gripped the lapel of his suit jacket, frantically pushing it off of his shoulders. As it hit the floor, he groaned, seemingly realizing where you wanted things to go.

He pulled back, tearing open the buttons of your blouse, words falling from his beautifully swollen lips.

“You’re such a goddamn tease. All the time. Wearing these tight little tops and expecting me to not rip it off of you?” he tsked, pulling open the top to reveal your bra, stopping in his tracks at the sight.

He was taking too long. Too fucking long.

Your hands reached for his belt, hurriedly sliding the leather from the strap, snapping it off of his pants and pushing them down.

“Don’t act like you didn’t want this to happen,” you snarked as he picked you up and plopped you down on the small metal table in the center of the room, brushing aside all the papers atop it. Your back hitting the cool metal made you hiss but you went on, “I bet you brought me in here because you knew if we were alone together for more than five seconds, you’d snap. You wanted to fuck me, Reid.”

You were trying to sound like you still had some wits about you, but the truth was, they’d all flown out the window the moment his lips met yours. Those fucking lips.

He didn’t bother denying your claims, opting to roughly pull down your skirt and underwear, one strong hand tightly holding your bare thigh the whole time. Those fucking hands.

“Maybe,” when he spoke again, his voice had dropped two octaves, a register you’d never heard before that sent a flicker of pure delight through your veins, “you’re projecting, Y/N. I think you’ve wanted me to hold you down and fuck you this whole time. You’ve wanted me to shut that pretty little princess mouth up in any and every way possible so you rattle off teases and insults to make up for the fact that you’re just a little whore who is begging to be fucked.”

You heard your moan echo around the room before you even noticed you’d opened your mouth. Quickly, but not quickly enough, his huge hand snapped over your lips, stopping any further sounds from escaping. His other hand dug into his pants pocket and you could hear the crinkle of tin as he rolled on a condom.

All you heard before the world disappeared was, “Shut the fuck up,” as he slid into you in one perfect thrust, his left hand roughly digging into your hip as he grunted with the effort of holding back. But that wasn’t what you wanted. That wasn’t the point of this. And you told him just that.

“Reid,” you groaned through his hand and he relinquished his hold, “fucking fuck me!”

Apparently, you didn’t need to tell him twice.

He didn’t even bother trying to ease you into it, roughly grabbing your hips and pulling you against him with each sharp thrust. It took all you had to keep from screaming as a wonderful mix of pain and pleasure pushed you closer to the edge. Jesus, you were close to coming already after barely a minute.

It was like you said, Spencer Reid drove you fucking insane. 

Still, you weren’t quite ready to submit to him completely. There was still quite a bit of fight left in you.

“I bet you’re loving this. Thinking you’re finally in charge of me. I got news for you, Reid,” grabbing his shoulders, you pulled him down so you could whisper in his ear, relishing in the hiss he emitted at the change in angle. “I’m more than you can handle.”

Saying he went wild would be an understatement. He somehow managed to lift you all the way up off of the table, spin you around, and reenter you sharply within the span of two seconds. This time, you couldn’t stop the pathetic mewl that left your throat at the feeling of him inside of you.

Actually, what probably got you was the horrible, dirty things he was whispering in your ear unrelentingly as he pounded into you, one hand on your hip and the other yanking your hair back roughly.

“You think I don’t know how to handle a spoiled little princess? Tell me, who’s the one moaning and writhing underneath me? Huh? Oh, can you not answer because I’ve got my cock buried in you?” He slipped the hand that was in your hair down to your cheeks, squeezing and forcing them into a pucker. “Answer me.”

You could feel how close you were but his thrusts were so slow and patient now. He wasn’t nearly as close as you were. If you were doing this, you were making him come first. You needed to keep some power. You did decide to relinquish a bit of control to him.

“P-Please, Reid….” you whispered, smiling to yourself as he responded exactly as you’d expected.

“Please, what?”

He was moving so slowly now, barely giving you any relief, slowly pushing in the tip only to pull out hastily, leaving you grinding back on his for more.

“Please… please tell me you don’t actually believe that,” you snarked, pleased with the way he suddenly froze, seemingly not expecting to hear that from you.

Your shock, however, didn’t last long. Because after a very pregnant pause, you heard the rush of air come from behind you. Because you felt a sharp, sudden, stinging pain on your left asscheek. Because Spencer Reid had just fucking spanked you.

“Ahh!” you yelped as the heat flared up your body as he sped up his thrusts, entering you deeper and deeper each time.

“I think someone needs to teach you a lesson about what happens when you mouth off to the wrong person. This,” he added with a particularly sharp thrust, “is your punishment, princess. You actually thought I couldn’t handle dominating a little brat like you? You’re the one begging to be filled up like a little whore.”

“Reid,” you let the name slip, feeling yourself slowly giving in more and more the further he pushed you.

“Say my fucking name, princess.”

“Ah! Spe– fuck! Reid!” you keened, happily letting your body give in to the feeling of being totally and utterly used by him, barely noticing almost calling him his first name.

“Tell me, princess, do you even know how tight your little cunt is bouncing back on my cock? I bet I feel so big inside you. I guess you finally got what you needed: to be fucked properly. You’re lucky that I’m the one to do it. I know just how to handle you.”

You groaned as he snaked a hand around you to circle your clit relentlessly, barely managing enough energy to squeak, “I hate you.”

There was anger behind the words, but not honesty. And Spencer knew. It was clear as he leaned in to whisper in your ear a final time, he also knew exactly how to push you over the edge.

“Prove it.”

And in an instant, your climax hit you, washing over you like a waterfall, feeling your walls clench and tighten around Reid’s cock. Drowning in the pleasure of your orgasm, you didn’t even notice the way he grunted as he spilled himself inside of you.

You definitely didn’t notice the way he planted soft kisses to your shoulder blades as he pulled out, whispering small strings of praise. Or the way he stroked your thigh as he carefully pulled your underwear back up. You definitely didn’t notice that.

You hadn’t quite regained your energy, but you knew you had to stand up. Every muscle in your body, however, begged you to collapse to the floor. Luckily, Spencer caught you, prompting you to look up at him, trying not to show the hope that was so obviously shimmering in your eyes.

Strangely, he seemed to be looking at you in a similar sense. Not exactly hopeful but… worried?

“You okay?”

You nodded weakly, breaking the eye-contact and pulling away from him, scurrying to put your clothes back on.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

You knew you sounded curt but you just couldn’t bring yourself to express emotion right now. It was stupid, you knew, but in the heat of the moment, you had felt… connected to him. In a purely animalistic way, surely. In a ‘fuck me so hard you impregnate me’ way.

Pushing the fact that that thought got you a little excited to the back of your mind, you turned back to Reid who had also fully redressed. He was shifting on his feet, avoiding looking at you fully. 

“Well, now we know what to do next time we butt heads,” you joked, smiling softly to diffuse the tension.

He laughed but you could tell it was superficial. There was something the two of you weren’t saying and you were both waiting for the other to say first.

“We should probably get back out there, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” he stuttered, coughing and doing a ‘ladies first’ motion towards the door.

“Thanks,” you muttered, opening the door slightly, then glancing back at Reid, seeing him looking at you with the words neither of you would say.

“Hey, Spencer?”

He tried not to let his shock show but he did a horrible job. You couldn’t blame him though, it was the first time you’d ever called him by his first name.

“Y-yeah?”

“I… I don’t hate you.”

It wasn’t much, but he smiled liked it was everything. Maybe, in your own special way, it was.

“I don’t hate you, too.”

Giving him a little nod of your head, there was no way you could suppress the joyous smile that lit up your face as you exited the file room. Your coworkers would surely be suspicious, but you didn’t want to think about that right now. Spencer was the only thing on your mind the whole rest of the day and you were sure he’d stay there well into the week.

After all, Spencer Reid drove you fucking insane. Now, you knew, in more ways than one.

~

TO BE ADDED TO TAGLIST

~

(sorry if the tags aren’t working! i’ve been having some trouble)

@whollytaciturn @101donuts @thegingerfairchild @safertokiss     @cielo1984 @thupidalthea @darkacademiacherry @matthewreid@aloha-ashley-taylor@justchiara-02@spnobsessedmemes @sweet-darlin@dreamy-reid @brokenanxiety @thatsonezesty13 @psychedelic-phase @beautifulalmondstudentduck@awhollandx@baddreamsandbrokenhearts@simp-for-mgg @swagdaddycam@gejatume@url-under-construction@krymson182@addie5264  @pinkdiamond1016 @gublergirls @georgia4287 @thineeminnie @untainted-memories @cm-is-kinda-cool @le-vie-en-amour1 @happyiidiot @wechillingcoop @blankets-for-bees @stewie-castle @dolanfivsosxox

[kissofcashmere]

Old Draft: Cold as ice rn my pressure is so low it’s stinging throughout the body n my chest is paining my lips are quivering wid any like sensation my chest feels too tight & weird.

Click on the inspiration board for better quality, it looks best however in my camera roll cuz it gets rasterised once published on twitter n other social media apps

I had created these moodboards long back. I was talking about them the other day, ppl will hate ‘em cuz they might find them childish idk but there’s a lot of significance attached to each one. I’m not in the state to elaborate further but you can read my article which is scheduled for 7th Mar it has all the details www.lilacnights.com/post/my-little-barista I have never felt so numb before my bp is too low and I’m feeling like this is my last day.

Speaking of the other bathroom moodboard, my parents had just given me a raw area even 10 yrs ago when I was in my teens my living conditions were very poor I was inexperienced and I had no help (even now I don’t) so I don’t want ppl to assume I’m very happy with all my stuff or I have my family’s support & that I’m just being “whiny” for no reason. They don’t care about me… they pretend in front of strangers. The bathroom was partially tiled (I’m not in the state to write my pressure is severely low so is my heartrate n I’m very numb) it was partially tiled it was embarrassing, one cud even see the raw grouted masoned wall there, the tub had no skirting it was again just a drop in tub which they’d dumped inside (haphazardly) there was fungus growing on my shampoo and other Bath stuff, I can barely breathe rn I am not obliged to give any explanations there was no towel ring or even a wash basin stand I wud wash my hands in the outside bathroom I wud go all the way there now I’m bed ridden (luckily I renovated everything) I was made to cry when I called someone from urban clap to fix a stand there and what’s worse is that he fixed it in a slant manner it was so tilted that my clothes would get wet the WC was leaking so were all the attachments in the shower area but my mother kept challenging me and fighting as to why I had to renovate it (I used it that way for TEN LONG YEARS an entire decade) I was made to cry LIKE HELL even in my horrible health condition and I was abused a lot…

I had somehow renovated it in 2021, unfortunately now I’ll have to do it again because of some major fault on the plumber’s part + other irrémédiable issues. I was also surprised to learn that our own Indian brand is keeping their classic range only for show here at the orientation centre and EXPORTING everything to UK & Dubai where they already have other alternatives such as Drummonds and Burlington, they have the entire set with the crutch and the hand shower THERE whereas in India everything has to be purchased separately and that too they have DISCONTINUED the crutch (HERE) without which its useless, our own crutch which is made in Rajasthan is exported there and they’ve kept this classic range only for show, everything is reserved for exports. Whatever looks ugly or has that local masculine design (every other local brand has the same products only the labels differ) is kept for Indians, we are beggars or what? All the classic, heritage stuff is sent there for what? To compete with other rival brands? They are so stingy and frugal when it comes to Indian customers that they kept only ONE piece/unit in the thermostatic model and divided that also into 2 halves, just like Greek God Zeus who had split soulmates out of intimidation, the top part is sent to Delhi and the back concealed component is kept for Mumbai! How stupid? It has been rendered useless for both the cities now. I somehow procured the crutch from an old stock (box packed) and I was continuously getting a rusted concealed back unit (thermostat which is super pricey) from everywhere cuz they were rotating the same damaged piece, I somehow got in touch with another dealer and ordered it from the main hub but it was the same one from that “pair” which had no front component cuz that was lying in Delhi. So I got the front also from an old stock it has scratches but at the back of the plate so they won’t be visible. It has those beveled edges typical hotelier style which I wanted since long but I can’t elaborate further like I said, I can explain everything detail probably in person… wish I had someone to talk to I’ve always been passionate about designing and interiors in fact everything, give me any topic. All I want to say is STOP smuggling what’s meant for us - Indians… all the way to UK & Dubai. You are an Indian brand, I love the quality and make I was so excited for this I’d planned it since Nov, I got it somewhere in the first week of Dec or so (last year) but we were still struggling for the top thermostat (front and back both) and hell no I’ll never put those ugly local designs in my bathroom. I have my soap jar and other apothecary stuff there I will never compromise. I’m a lot into designing… I was going to recommend everyone to pick both your brand as well as this particular range but then I realised people won’t be able to buy anything cuz you don’t keep all this stuff for Indians. We want the crutch which comes with the Victorian set, it’s an essential, and the entire range all the models (black and white both) I was so happy with the make and mechanism but I ended up being really disappointed.

I can’t write much, people even buy your freestanding bathtubs in India we have all started buying that I’ve seen the reviews, for such bathtubs we require bigger spouts too and this was much more ideal I even opened the autocad to check if the thermostatic one which I’d selected had a single outlet or not cuz I didn’t want anything with a diverter I have a bathtub I needed something right there for my hand to reach while sitting inside the tub hence we had to spend more and I didn’t want the 3 way one, this set has a different spout which is better than the ones we are commonly getting in abroad they all have a flat nose, whereas this has a round ribbed border which looks more expensive and a mesh filter plate inside, I needed one with a crutch cuz I don’t have more room there to fit both my soap tray as well as the shower bracket and I’ve optimised whatever space I had skilfully to keep all my apothecary jars and everything to have a full sized vanity, a free standing almost 1700 mm bathtub… (cuz again you don’t get smaller ones in India where bathrooms are matchbox sized) and all kinds of other things even wall art and frames.

So I needed one with a crutch provision not a bracket, secondly the long bend exposed pipe would’ve been difficult to put there as I have a highlighter tile which is running throughout the bathroom lastly it had a tap not a spout which is a bit unappealing moreover its not long enough to enter my tub completely so all the bubble bath solution would’ve ended up at the edges (cuz it has to be poured right under the faucet in running water) and last but not the least this was my main reason - we could’ve spent half the amount but we opted for the thermostat mainly because the 3 way one had a pull and twist knob on the tap to switch between Bath spout and hand shower and I wanted the one with a lever/dongle cuz of my previous experience (which was horrible) with Kohler no offence and with wet hands it’s anyway difficult but yeah Kohler’s spout was faulty. I wanted to make a budget bathroom so I got from there but I went wrong because I also realised that all my stuff is very common Kohler has only one design or product in each category and they are promoting the same 1-2 things everywhere which means I ended up with something really common, faulty and boring. Nothing vintage or whatever we want, just the typical semi modern 2003 stuff. I’m very happy with this one (I haven’t used it yet but I saw all the functioning with the lever and knobs) and this is exactly why I wanted it, I have put the entire thing together as a set & I matched the the bottom mixer with the thermostatic one on top for my overhead shower to have 2 separate modes, I’ll be able to use the overhead along with the hand shower BOTH AT THE SAME TIME secondly I was looking for a budget mixer again but that too was discontinued and we anyway would’ve had to upturn the outlet flang or whatever from behind cuz it was meant for filling pails and buckets, now after the thermostat my shower portion is gonna have a modern touch because of how they’ve designed it, when you are paying so much you are getting that typical shower console look with black insets, they aren’t illuminated because they are not digital (that is usually there in a 50k to 1 lakh unit) however you do get the console with that typical look and everything since its an automatic model and I even edited all my stuff including the renders to make them more realistic for my moodboard cuz I was not able to find real life images. Ab naak mat kataiyen cuz ppl might show interest and none of this is easily available for Indians… it’s the classic range which should be manufactured and supplied in full swing/bulk please do that why is India always lagging behind? There’s an entire cult following including me for this Victorian style everywhere in abroad but in India we are not getting it easily especially in Mumbai.

- Zara Sauleh

[tastyykpop]

𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑢𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

•pairings: enemy, barista and student!jaemin x student and barista!reader

♡𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡♡

<next>

•warnings: dom!jaemin, brat!reader, brat taming, crying kink, hair pulling, choking, small praising, small size kink, degradation (slut, whore), dumbification (sexual and non sexual use) nanas kinda mean :( but gets a lil nicer :), jaemin refers to himself as nana a lot mostly when they do the dirty, bulging kink, pet names (princess, baby, baby girl, little girl, pretty girl), unprotected sex (please be safe), slight face slapping (he slaps her once), rough sex clearly, some sexual tension, I hope i got everything

You were fuming!

The boy in front of you not even batting an eyelash, just laughing at the mess dripping down your face.

You smelt like an iced americano.

People around you held their hands to their mouths in shock and others tried to hold back their laughter. Some even pointed at you or gave sympathetic looks.

It wasnt like people were surprised anymore. Jaemin always had something up his sleeve for you. But he never went as far as pouring his coffee on you.

"Aw poor baby. Do you need a napkin?" He faked sympathy with a pout and his friends began laughing. You just got up and walk by them, making sure to bump into jaemins shoulder on your way through.

It was almost everyday that Jaemin would do something so uncalled for. It was like he was made to push your buttons. Even as you're walking out of the college building, you can still hear the boy laughing at you. Or maybe it was the other students. Either way, you wanted to kill him.

As you trudged towards your car, a sense of relief washed over you. A great happiness that only comes when you finished your classes and could go home. Only this happiness stayed for a good 2 hours until you have to go to your part time job at the cafe with your favorite person of course. But its not like you can quit. You need the money so you can live and get the education you need, no matter how hard it is being with him.

It was then when you sat in your car and the squishing in the seat made your face curl into a scowl, only made you think of ways to get away with murder. It was gross really. The seats were sticky, plus your hair and clothes were sticking to you like lip gloss. A shower would be perfect right about now.

"Hi y- oh..." Your roommate, jimin, stared at your messy state. Giving you a good up and down before shrugging his shoulders, "jaemin?"

You sighed, walking over to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, "Who else? Its always him."

Jimin gave you a small smile and came closer as if ready to hug you but didn't because he didn't want to get sticky. "You know, maybe you should quit that job."

"No."

He groaned and snatched the water that you were about to sip, "Why? You'd only see jaemin in school. And you wouldnt have to stick with his bickering in work." He huffed, shaking his head, "Girls are so difficult sometimes."

You tried leaping up to grab the bottle from jimin, but all he did was hold it above his head. You stomped on his foot in return. Jimin huddled over and you snatched the bottle, smirking with victory as you put it to your lips.

"You fucking snake." Jimin hissed in pain.

A laugh fell from your lips as you walked by him, completely ignoring his words and his pain, "Im gonna take a shower."

Once you got to your room, the first thing you did was grab your work clothes, a towel, and underwear and got ready for the warm shower.

After you switched on the water and let it heat up, you stepped in and immediately felt at peace as the water cascaded over your body, cleaning off the almost dried coffee. Your hair felt lighter, like a feather and your fingers could now slip through the strands easily without an issue. The scent of your body wash overpowered the coffee smell and you felt much better. Water, soap, and coffee were beginning to fill the drain as you finished washing up. You rolled your eyes at the sight of the murky water. What a bastard.

For once you were actually happy to wear your work clothes after what had happened earlier. The clothes actually felt comfortable and jimin was becoming more and more confused as to why you were hugging yourself with a huge smile on the couch.

"No one should be that happy after a shower." He started flipping through channels on the t.v.

"Dont tell me how to feel, I dont smell like jaemins coffee anymore." You gushed overdramtically. Jimin could only role his eyes.

"Please...you act like he's a demon of some sort."

You squinted your eyes at jimin and flared your nostrils, "he is. Hes a nasty, dumb, annoying, self centered-"

"Okay okay I get it! You hate jaemin! The funny thing is you can never get his name out of your mouth." Everything stopped and your head snapped in jimins directions.

"What are you saying?" A frown found itself on your face, jimin leaned closer.

"Im saying that maybe you might like him."

You shrieked in disgust, blocking your ears with your hands. Jimin laughed at your reaction. Almost falling off the couch in the process. "Ew! Gross! Why would you even think that!"

"Like I said, you can never get his name out of your mouth. I think its pretty obvious you like him." He was still giggling at you except your face was anything but happy, more grossed out at how he thought you could like such a person

"I can't stand you. I'm leaving for work." You stood up and jimin did nothing to stop you from going. Even though you still had about 15 minutes until you normally leave. "Ill be back at 9." The door slammed behind you, leaving jimin alone with another laughing fit.

You got in the car and drove off to your work, still trying to come up with a reason as to why jimin is saying all this. Sure maybe you talk about jaemin a little lot but that doesn't mean you like him. Its very much the opposite and jimin should know that. It only frustrates you the more you think about it. Liking someone like jaemin? Please. That would be your nightmare.

As you pulled up to the cafe, there were only a few other cars parked. Few were from other workers but the majority were most like customers or people just trying to get a free parking space. Lucky for you, there were many open spaces, unlike when you come later and they're filled. Maybe leaving earlier wasnt such a bad idea. It saved you the 3 minute walk.

"Y/n! You're just on time!" One of your coworkers, irene, called out as you stepped inside the shop. "We need help back here!" You had no time to even begin to say your shift hasn't started yet when irene took you by the hand and dragged you to where the coffee was being made. "We have a bunch of online orders coming in so can you please help us with the coffee and food?" She tossed you a brown apron for you to put on and you nodded, trying to get your brain to speed up with everything in the world.

It was so quiet when you walked in that you never even realized that the back was busy. Coffee cups were filled and put into trays for orders, food was being heated or baked. It was a chaotic place right now and all you could do was help. So as fast as you could, you began with the first order on the screen. A large mocha with extra extra sugar, whipped cream, and chocolate curls. Easy enough you thought as you reached for a cup but a hand beat you to it.

Your eyes looked up at the person in front of you and just when you thought everything was going fine, it wasn't, "What are you doing here so early?" You asked bitterly.

"I always come in early. What are you doing here so early?" Jaemin asked whilst holding a death grip on the cup.

"Just felt like coming early." You muttered, watching as jaemin turned away with a scoff, quickly cutting the conversation short. "Bastard."

Jaemin was busy making what you were originally going to do, so you looked for another order to get ready. It was just two cake pops and a small strawberry banana smoothie. Something you've been craving recently from the lack of sweetness and fruit in your day to day life.

The cake pops and smoothie were quick to make and were soon sent off to the customer. You happily beamed and wished them good day once they left.

After then there was a familiar face with a friend right next to him, he was quite handsome you must say. He was indeed so handsome that he just looked unreal. "Hey jimin. Whose this?" You nodded towards the bright black haired man.

"This is taemin! He wanted some coffee so I brought him- hey stop staring at him!" Jimin snapped you out of your trance and taemin chuckled.

"Its okay shes cute." He eye smiled, showing off his perfectly white teeth. He's definitely not real.

Jimin tsk'd, "Until you get to know her."

"Yeah yeah... whatever." You smiled at him, completely oblivious to what he just said.

They both ordered and took a seat next to the window. You were still staring at taemin with your head in your hand until someone tapped your shoulder, "Who are they?" Jaemins voice rang in your ears, making you stand up straight.

"Thats my roommate, jimin, and his friend taemin." You glanced back at the boys, mainly at taemin and just stared like he was your first crush.

"Quit staring your gonna scare him away." Jaemin said earning himself a chuckle from you.

You stuck your tongue out, "He called me cute."

The boy smirked from ear to ear and leaned in close to your face, "He was lying." You grumbled and pushed him away from you, getting annoyed by his presence very quickly.

"Jaemin and y/n, get back to work we have orders to do!" Irene called out. Both of you quickly returning to your stations and getting things ready.

"Look at him. Hes basically waiting for me to come over to him." Seulgi, another person in this school you dispise, said as she looked at jaemin in the back of the room. She wasn't very quiet either considering you were only a few seats away from him. So it only meant that jaemin could hear her, but chose to ignore it. Typical boy.

"Honestly. He looks so good today too." Sana, her best friend, commented.

"Oh and did you hear what he was planning on doing today to y/n? Apparently he's gonna-"

"Class get back in your seats, we have much to discuss." The professor stood in the front of the class. Everyone shifted and moved to their appropriate places and waited for the teacher to begin. Unlike you, who was wondering what seulgi was going to say next. If its something worse than coffee being poured on your head, you may just have to bury yourself six feet under after this.

As you were taking notes something flung towards your head and hit you on the side, looking over was jaemin with a smirk was he held his fingers in a sling shot shape. A rubber band was laying on your lap. Then another one. One even hit your cheek creating a small smack sound as you winced in pain. Oh you desperately wanted to get out of this seat and punch the boy in the face.

"Excuse me sir!" You called out, raising your head. The whole class looked at you and your cheeks began to heat up. "May i go to the restroom?" The professor nodded and you headed out. Not until you stopped in your tracks from a loud smack to your butt, causing the whole class to turn around again.

Jaemin was enjoying this, the way you stared at him with wide eyes and open mouth, made him just want to do it again. He never thought this reaction from you would be so entertaining and he tried his best not show it, with only a small smirk covering his face.

You rushed out of the room, faster than ever and leaned against the nearest surface you could find. Not only were you questioning reality, but also why jaemin just did that.

"That little bitch." You said to yourself as you paced back and forth in the hallway, staring at the ground.

"Excuse me?" Jaemin voice rang in your ears as you looked up with a angry red face. Steam was even coming out of your ears and nose. "Did you just call nana a bitch?" He put his hands to his chest and pouted, "Little girl you need to learn some manners." Jaemin tilted his head to the side and began walking forward.

"Shut up." You had nothing else to say as you grit your teeth, looking at the ground.

Jaemin didnt like that and grabbed the back of your neck to make you look at him, "What? Did your stupid head stop thinking? Your normally so chatty for nana what happened?"

"Jaemin i-" you cut yourself off as you felt jaemin grip the back of your neck tighter causing you to moan in pain.

"Stupid girl." Jaemin whispered, forcefully pushing you away. It was not strong enough to make you fall but at least stumble.

You glowered, earning yourself a chuckle from him. "What will it take for you to leave me alone!?"

"Bring this to table 15 please! Thanks!" Irene smiled as she handed you a small cup of iced coffee and you took it, taking it to its designated place. What you didn't except was to see taemin again, gleaming up at you.

"Hi y/n." He smiled and you tried to remain calm.

God how is someone so beautiful?

"Hey, I didnt except you to come back." You returned the warm smile and started to play with the apron around your waist.

Taemin giggled, "I actually quite like this place, its cozy." He began to take a sip from the straw, eyes still trained on you. If only you weren't so awkward with him, you wouldve found something to say other than staring at him and indulging in the beauty before you. But lucky for you someone behind the counter called for you, quickly averting your attention back to work.

The next order was a shake, so you grabbed the correct ingredients and began using the blendor, when someone came next to you, doing the same thing "You seem like your having fun flirting around." The unwanted conversation with jaemin began, "makes nana kind of jealous."

"Hm funny." You ignored him and continued blending the ice cream.

Jaemin casually rolled his eyes and glanced down at your nonchalant face before returning back to the blender, "you know you really do piss me off."

You sneered and snickered to yourself, "what are you gonna do about it?"

"I was thinking of fucking you dumb or until you know your place but maybe thats a bit too rewarding."

The cup was removed and set aside from the blender with your hands placed on your hips, "Im sorry what?"

"Did I stutter?" Jaemin raised an eyebrow and also put the cup down. You went silent, not knowing whether or not to just laugh it off or quickly run away. "And I'm still waiting on my apology."

"One, I am not going to apologize to your bitchy ass. Two, even if I did let you, you could never 'fuck me dumb', it just wouldn't happen. Now stop trying to get in my pants."

Jaemin opened then closed his mouth about to say something, but didn't and just put on a sweet smile, "Go take these to table 7 for nana." He said like he was testing yoj.

"Why? You made them."

"Nana told you to do something little girl, now do it." Jaemins sweet smile was still plastered on his face yet it intimidated you enough to do as he said.

Taemin was long gone when you walked out and you were kind of sad as you weren't able to say goodbye before he left. You placed the shake down on the table and was ready to walk away when you heard your name being called.

"Y/n? You work here?" Seulgis voice spoke as you turned around. Both her and sana were looking at you with shit eating grins.

"Doesn't jaemin also work here seulgi?" Sana asked the girl in front of her and seulgi looked as if she got the brightest idea.

"Oh yeah! Y/n can you get jaemin over here? Pretty please?" She asked sweetly yet with a hint of sourness and you listened, not feeling like ignoring her at the moment.

You told jaemin that seulgi and sana were out front looking for him and he nonchalantly went out without question. Leaving you to do some of the work alone, which you didn't mind considering its jaemin, the annoying bastard who won't leave you alone, but he does help you whenever you need it. And right now, it was a bit busy, and you needed it.

After doing 4 more online orders and sending them off through the driveway, jaemin finally came back with a scowl on his face looking ready to beat someone up. "What the hell is wrong with you!?" He raised his voice only loud enough for you to hear. But you were quite confused on what was happening.

"What are you talking about?" You asked, tilting your head to the side like a puppy.

Jaemin groaned, "I knew you were fucking dumb but come on y/n! Why is seulgi covered in the shake i gave you?"

You paused for a moment, unable to answer that. Is he assuming you spilt her shake on her? Why would you even do that in the first place. Yeah you don't like her, but you're not going to stoop to her or his level. "I dont know."

He slammed his hand on the wall near your head, startling you a bit, "You dont know huh?" You shook your head slowly. "Seulgi and sana both said you purposefully spilt the shake on seulgi. Now answer me honestly. Is that true?" You shook your head again, feeling really small and helpless under his strong gaze.

"I-i didnt spill t-the skake." You muttered quietly.

He inhaled sharply, "Then who did huh? Or maybe you don't know because you're so dumb."

"S-stop..." you frowned, looking down at floor, but jaemin had other plans and made you look up at him. A single tear slide down your cheek and you swear you saw a small grin appear on his face.

"Tell nana what happened." His voice became softer as he swiped away the stray tear on your face.

You huffed, still afraid that he'd do something to you although you knew he wouldnt purposely cause you pain. "W-well she asked me to go get you, which I did, a-and her shake was perfectly fine when I left."

"Are you saying she purposely spilt the shake on herself to make me angry at you?"

"Y-yes."

"Ill believe my little girl for now, but if I find out you are lying, you will be in big trouble got that?" Jaemin lifted his hand off the wall and proceeded to walk back out of the room. Leaving you shocked at his words and still frightened by an angry jaemin.

You went to the cash register once jaemin left to get ready to count the bills until you heard jaemin and seulgi arguing. Lucky for them, no one but you and him were working right now. Irene went home earlier and the normal crew always leave around 6:30, leaving just you and jaemin.

"It was only a prank nana. No need to get so worked up. And besides you didn't even prank her today, be glad I did for you." Seulgi said smiling at the boy in front of her.

Jaemin physically cringed when he heard his nickname roll off her tongue, "you didn't have to do that."

You stood there watching, astonished how jaemin was standing up for you. Hes supposed to hate you. Jaemin didn't even bother going with the girls when they offered him a ride, instead he stayed with you and even helped close. Something he normally doesn't do because he leaves before you and gives you all the hard things to do.

"Hurry up and finish." Jaemin spoke. A little bit of anger still laced in his voice.

"Whats your rush?"

He sighed, "I wanna go home. Plus I can't stand this place right now. I'm pissed."

You finished wiping down that last table and walked over to him, "Just go home then."

"Not without you."

You gave him a dirty look, "im not going home with you."

Jaemin leaned down, his face only inches from yours and whispered, "Remember what I said earlier hm? I wanna fuck you dumb." He then grabbed your waist bringing you closer to him, if that was possible, "Can I do that pretty girl? Can nana fuck you so hard you won't even remember anything but my cock?" You were so lost in your mind that everything became a blur. Jaemins words sounded so sweet but were so lewd. And you were so close to kissing him until he put his finger on your lips, "But you have to wait." You frowned and were only getting more angry by the second. You went from not wanting anything to do with jaemin to just about ready to beg him to kiss you. Was it that easy for him to get in your head? Or were you so sex deprived that now jaemin seemed somewhat interesting?

You laid on jaemins bed getting bored with the constant teasing. He never did anything but that. Jaemin would get close to your lips and back away as you chased him. Hed chuckle and coo at you for being so desperate. But that wasn't the point of all the teasing. He really just wanted you to beg him to kiss you. No words will come out of his mouth telling you to beg, he just excepted it to happen sooner or later. But youre too stubborn to do so, so you grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down to kiss him, catching him by surprise.

Jaemins hands gripped your wrists and pulled them off his face, pinning them to the bed, "You didnt even ask to kiss me." Jaemin pulled away, raising his eyebrow high, "Dont you think thats a bit mean."

"So was teasing me, but I let you continue." You huffed, trying to free your wrists from his death grip but it was no use.

"You dont have a say on whether i continue or not. I'm in charge here and you take what I give you, understand?" You rolled your eyes. It was your intention to make jaemin angry. You wanted to push his buttons.

What you didnt know was that not answering jaemin correctly would earn you a slap to the face. And jaemin was not even fazed by it.

"Dont roll your eyes and answer nana." Jaemin smiled. "Can you say 'yes nana'?"

"Y-yes nana."

"Good girl." Jaemin muttered and began slowly kissing your jawline down to your neck, sucking here and there creating shades of purple and red marks. Oh how he loved the marks he was leaving.

You so desperately wanted to grip onto jaemins hair and pull it but he never budged his hands, only tightening his grasps. As he continued attacking your neck, you began to lift your hips up to get some sort friction. Jaemin noticed and shifted so that his thigh was in between your legs and rubbing against your clothed core. A spew of quiet moans left your lips but you wanted more. Jaemin was going to soft and slow for your liking.

"I thought you were going to fuck me dumb?" You said and jaemin lifted his head to give you a quick kiss on the lips.

"Patience baby. You aren't ready yet." He let go of your wrists and took your shirt off. The cold air made you shiver and jaemin chuckled. "I wanna make you cum at least 2 times before I fuck you."

"Then stop talking and do it." You replied, pushing your hips up to rub against his thigh, but they were pushed back down on the bed.

"Didnt I say to take what I give you?" Your head slowly moved up and down and jaemin smiled, "so why arent you happy with what nana gives you?"

"I want more..." you sighed as he started to slide your pants and panties off, discarding them somewhere in the room. His mouth slowly started kissing your inner thighs and you could feel your heat dripping with anticipation. You whined for more but only got a slap to the thigh telling you to be quiet. Needless to say you didn't listen and continued to try to get him closer to where you needed him most but pulling his hair.

Jaemin groaned grabbing your wrist again and pushed it away roughly. His patience was wearing out. You were more stubborn than he thought, but that doesn't mean he can't still break you. "Next time you do that, I'll flip you over and beat your ass till its purple." Your breath hitched and as much as you were tempted, you wanted to be able to sit for a few days so you stayed put and kept your hands to yourself.

But the desperation was getting to you and you wanted relief which jaemin wasnt giving you until you felt his two fingers circling around your clit. "P-please jaemin." You moaned as he flicked your clit with his middle finger. Then soon enough he stuck two fingers inside you. Your pussy automatically clenching around his digits as he moved at a steady in and out pace.

It felt so good. His fingers felt so good. They made your body twist in pleasure as more moans left your mouth. Jaemin was watching your face closely as it contorted with pleasure. He loved seeing your eyebrows bunched together, so focused on the way his fingers worked inside you.

"My pretty slut. Taking nanas fingers so well." He gushed, still watching your face. Jaemin could feel himself get even more painfully hard but he didn't want to fuck you just yet. He meant it when he said he wanted you to cum 2 times. So he picked up the speed with his fingers, your hands landing on his forearm that was resting on near your hip. "Are you gonna cum for nana princess?"

You frantically nodded your head as a wave of pleasure washed over you. You could feel your cum leak out of you as jaemin leaned down and began eating away at your cunt.

"J-jaemin! So...go-good!" Your head flew back as his tongue sucked on your clit and a loud moan filled the room.

Jaemin smirked against your heat, "I haven't even fucked you yet and your already sounding like a dumb whore. Its so easy to break you princess."

"N-no its j-ju-...." you whimpered as your brain wasnt even trying to help you function right. His tongue was extraordinary. "Mmmm."

"Aw my dumb little princess is so cute." He muttered diving back into lapping at your soaked cunt. It was almost as if on cue and without warning, you were cumming again. Jaemins hasty tongue took it all. Groaning at the taste of you in his mouth.

He sat up over you, grabbing your neck, pulling you into a deep kiss. You tasted yourself on his tongue. Deepening the kiss by grabbing the back of his hair, jaemin couldnt help but moan a bit as his cock brushed against your thigh. He felt big. Bigger than the few guys you've been with and you were ecstatic.

You tugged on jaemins pants and shirt as a way to tell him to take them off and he did after getting off of you and sitting on the edge of the bed. His abs were more defined than you thought and when his cock sprung free, your mouth started watering. Jaemins smirk only grew watching you stare. He was starting to get cocky

"What? You wanna suck my cock?" Jaemin asked sweetly.

"Yes please." You reached over to try and touch him but he didn't allow you. And smacked your hand away. It was a way for him to tease you and you hated it.

"So kind for nana now. Ealier you were so cock hungry that you decided to be a brat. Did nana finally break you?" Jaemin whispered as he moved a piece of hair out of your face, looking at you with fill admiration.

"No you didn't break me. But I wanna suck you off." You whined as jaemin picked you up and sat you just above his cock, the tip teasing at your entrance.

"Too bad. Now I want you to sit." Jaemin said looking into your eyes. You obeyed with a little hesitation. His cock was surely going to hurt you so you took it slowly and started lowering your hips. "Fuck...thats a good girl." Jaemin praised, watching his cock dissappear between your legs and your tummy get full with his cock. "My baby's so tiny you can see my cock in your belly." He said, pushing down on the area where he was imprinted in you.

Slowly you started moving, lifting your hips up and down. You were wet enough that he could easily slide in and out with no problem.

Jaemins head fell back as he sighed with relief, grunting as you picked up the pace, "So tight for nana." He whispered and you moaned back loudly. His cock stretched every inch of you to the point where it felt like you'd split.

"More more more." You whined against jaemins neck, gripping his shoulders tightly. Carefully jaemin flipped you both over so he was on top and continued pounding into your destroyed cunt. He kept a hand around your neck squeezing it every so often as a choked out moan left your throat.

His cock was so deep and fast that you couldn't think straight. You kept blabbering about his cock. Only thing on your mind was how nice he felt inside you. Jaemin bit his lip as he smirked at you, grabbing your hair and bringing your face close to his, "Now will you admit that I fucked you dumb and say your nanas dumb slut?"

"Y-yes, I'm na-nanas dumb sl-slut." You cried, tears falling down your face from how good he felt inside and if you thought jaemin couldn't go any faster, he did. His thrusts were hard and rough, sure enough to hurt your thighs tomorrow as he pounded relentlessly. "So close." Your voice came out choked as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You held on to jaemins hand that was on your neck as he helped you with your orgasm.

Jaemin wasnt far behind you with his and groaned loudly, "fuck, where do you want it princess?"

"I-inside." You moaned as the feeling of hot cum was shot inside you. Jaemins hips kept moving him through his orgasm until he slowly came to a stop. Both of you panted loudly, there were even a few tears falling down your cheek here and there.

Jaemin slowly pulled out, making sure not to hurt you, and he laid beside you. "You did so well." He kissed your forehead. "Cmon ill carry you to bathroom so we can take a bath." He said picking up your worn out naked figure with so much care. Making you forget he was your enemy.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝐻𝑜𝑤 𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝐴𝑠𝑘 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑂𝑢𝑡: 𝑁𝑜𝑛! 𝐼𝑑𝑜𝑙 𝐴𝑈

❥𝐴𝑟𝑡𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐶𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑠 𝑆𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝐸𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑜𝑦𝑒𝑒: 𝐾𝑖𝑚 𝐻𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑗𝑜𝑜𝑛𝑔

As a college student, you usually end up having to do a lot of projects that require creativity and lots of paint.

That's how you ended up in an arts and crafts store.

You found Hongjoong behind the counter, finishing up his task of arranging the ribbons on the shelf.

He smiled at you and immediately put his task down.

"How may I help you this evening?"

Knows exactly what you'll need better than you.

Often recommends other materials or throws in a few creative suggestions of his own.

He's always asking you what they're for, he's genuinely curious about your assignments..and even more curious about you.

Sometimes you end up doing some of your posters with him right there on days where there's nobody else.

You purposefully began buying things you didn't even need just to have an excuse to see the blueberry haired male.

He doesn't mind, he likes your company, even if it's strange you keep buying the same red glitter everyday.

One day you came in, and he was excited to show you the new Valentine's Day cards that just arrived.

In particular, this really cute one that played a song you've never heard before but that asked in the end "Will you go out with me?"

You giggled. "It's so cute. Who thought of it?"

Hongjoong smiled even more, holding the card out to you. "I did......it's for you....so what do you say?"

❥𝐹𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑡: 𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑆𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑤𝑎

You really love to gift flowers to your loved ones, feeling that it's a sweet way of saying you're thinking of them.

You frequented a lot of flower shops, but something about this particular one made you want to keep coming back...

And it wasn't just the hot employee behind the counter. Or his super sweet and flirty personality.

It was that and much much more.

You loved the cozy and intricate way the arrangements were always lined up.

They made it a point to change them every week, sort of giving the shop a fresh look each Sunday.

Seonghwa also knew specifically what type of flowers to suggest depending on what it was for.

White tulips for when you wanted to apologize to someone, Hydrangeas to show gratitude, and even Sunflowers to show love to your best friend.

It was always fascinating to hear him speak about what each flower represented.

Just as fascinating as watching him delicately put them together in beautiful bouquets and tie them with a ribbon.

One time you came in and he was very excited to show you a new bouquet he made.

"Ta da!" He pulled out a bouquet with lavender roses as the main focus.

"They're so beautiful Seonghwa! What do they mean?"

"They represented enchantment and love at first sight...ideal for a blossoming romance..."

He grinned as he held them out. "From me, to you."

❥𝑃𝑒𝑡 𝐺𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑟: 𝐽𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑢𝑛ℎ𝑜

Getting a chow chow puppy as a pet was no easy task.

Especially when their hair is extremely fluffy and in constant need of maintenance.

Fortunately for you, a nearby pet grooming shop opened up recently.

So you walked, pooch in your arms as you looked at the cozy scene in front of you.

"Hello, I'm Yunho and I'll be assisting you today. And whom do we have here?"

Your puppy instantly took a liking to him, which was rare since he was a big scaredy cat for a dog.

"If my baby trusts him, I guess I have nothing to worry about. "

You really didn't. Yunho was so friendly and knew how to handle dogs perfectly fine.

He was just as playful as them and was very careful when trimming their hair or nails.

So you felt absolutely at ease leaving your child for a few hours with him while you ran some errands or went grocery shopping.

"Hi baby. Were you a good boy today?" You came to pick up your pooch one day.

"Oh they were an absolute gem as always."

You were about to leave when Yunho said. "Hey Y/N...I actually have a dog of my own at home....and they could use a friend.."

"Oh? So you want to arrange a play date for them?" You asked.

He blushed and smiled shyly as he admitted. "Date for them and maybe....us too?"

❥𝐵𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑆ℎ𝑜𝑝 𝐸𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑜𝑦𝑒𝑒: 𝐾𝑎𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑒𝑜𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑔

Truthfully, Yeosang frightened you the first time you walked into the shop.

He just stared at you with a cold stare as he warned you to keep quiet in the place.

You definitely didn't want to get on his bad side.

So you just stuck to browsing the shelves, picking out the books you wanted and buying them.

Then after getting more brave, you took advantage of the tables and desks they had inside to either catch up on homework or read what you just purchased.

You just loved reading, especially poetry or sonnets.

You always got so lost in your book, you only realized what time it was because Yeosang tapped your shoulder.

"It's 5 minutes to closing. You should probably go home now."

It became a routine of coming to the shop right after school, curling up on the chair in a back, your nose stuck in a book.

Unbeknownst to you, Yeosang always watched you, took notice of the genres you were fond of. He'd be lying if he said he didn't find you cute and attractive.

You were just as mysterious and quiet as he was, and he was intrigued to get to know who you were.

One day, you came in as usual, waving to Yeosang who just sat by the register.

You sat in your usual spot and noticed a tiny folded letter on the corner. You opened it up and read its contents, a quote from one of your favorite novels:

"In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."- Pride and Prejudice.

You looked up to find Yeosang peering at you from his own book, for the first time, a smile on his sculpture like face as he waited for your reaction.

❥ 𝐵𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑎: 𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑖 𝑆𝑎𝑛

Being the coffee addict you were, of course you had to try out the new shop that opened up.

The fresh scent of espresso filled your nostrils the moment you walked in and it was heavenly.

And the barista at the counter was pure eye candy.

And you soon found out he was sweeter than any cinnamon roll or cream Danish they sold there.

"May I interest you in any of our specialty drinks?"

But you were a simple person, you just wanted straight black coffee.

He seemed taken aback and somewhat disappointed at your choice.

But at least you weren't a picky customer that tried his patience.

So you just regularly came to get your straight espresso.

One day he asked "Can I please just try something?"

You couldn't say no to his little pout, so you let him.

You watched as he did your regular espresso shots and looked to be adding some type of cream.

He giddily went back to the counter and held it out to you.

There on the very top, he had created a heart out of latte foam...

And on the cup, he had written his phone number and added the words "call me ;) "

❥𝐷𝑎𝑦𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝐴𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡: 𝑆𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑖

You had always been more than willing to help babysit your cousin during summer break.

You adored that child like none other.

But you had recently gotten a job and couldn't watch him all the time

So you opted for the nearby daycare center to help you when you had to work.

The first sight that greeted you was a tall young man who had tussled hair and paint staining his apron.

"Hello. I'm assistant Mingi. How can I help you today?" He greeted you both and then let out an 'ouch' when something hit him from the back.

Feeling safe with the environment, you began taking your cousin every other day to the center and picking him up after your shift ended.

You always saw Mingi there.

He usually helped your cousin with the homework assigned to him over break.

Or he was simply goofing around with him, it was quite endearing to see.

You were content to see the little boy make friends and break out of his little shell.

You came to pick him up as usual. "How was it today? Learned anything exciting?"

"I learned that Mingi thinks you're cute and has a crush on you." He snickered as he pointed to Mingi.

"Hey! Shhhh!! You promised not to say anything!" Mingi laughed nervously as he looked at you rather worrisome.

You blushed and smiled. "It's ok. They think you're cute too Mingi." Your cousin interjected, now exposing you and prompting you two to confess your feelings.

❥𝑃𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑒𝑟: 𝐽𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑊𝑜𝑜𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔

Having the world's biggest sweet tooth was a blessing and a curse.

And right now the biggest issue was finding a new pastry that you had not tried before.

But you had practically gone through all the bakeries in town, knew what they had to offer.

So you decided to stop by a very old bakery that you had not gone to in forever.

And you weren't joking when you said forever, the place had changed so much, you hardly recognized it.

You also didn't recognize any of the people working there, having been a regular before.

You looked through the assorted pastries on displays, hoping to find something to catch your interest.

"Hello there pretty one."

You were startled by the loud voice behind you. You turned to see a cute guy smiling at you.

"Were you looking for something in particular?"

You explained that you were looking for something new or special and his eyes instantly lit up.

He ushered you to follow him to the counter, where he pulled out a tray of peach shaped pastries.

"These are Italian peach cookies, meant to look like actual peaches. Try one and tell me they're not the best thing you've ever tried."

You ate one and your whole mouth was engaged. They were absolutely amazing. "They're so good. I love how sweet they are."

Not wanting to miss the opportunity, Wooyoung smirked. "If you like sweet things, how about going on a date with me?"

❥𝐴𝑟𝑐𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝐴𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑡: 𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑖 𝐽𝑜𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑜

Jongho was no strange face to you and you were no stranger to him.

He often worked part time at the local arcade during summer break.

You and your friends hung out there a lot after you guys got done with your respective jobs.

"Hey." "Hi." You both always shyly greeted each other like that for 3 years now, sometimes starting small conversations.

Your friends often rolled their eyes at you, telling you to work up the courage to ask him out.

His friends, and coworkers, were also trying to do the same to him.

"They're totally into you." But Jongho would only blush and brush it off as pure fiction.

One night, he noticed how someone came up to you and tried to hit on you.

You looked visibly uncomfortable and seemed to be wanting a way out of the situation.

When they leaned in too close for your liking, and his, he marched right over there.

"Is there a problem here?" He made it a point to flex his arm muscles, making the person apologize and just scurry off.

"Are you ok?" He asked, wanting to make sure you were fine, which you said you were.

He was gonna go back to the counter, but he had to ask."Y/N...would you like to go out on a date sometime-"

"Yes!" You immediately answered, not letting him finish, suddenly feeling awkward for sounding so desperate.

But Jongho only smiled. "Don't worry, I would have done the same if you had asked me out."

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.

[ginnympotter]

call it even

Chapter 1: you’ll always know me

A/N: This is the first chapter of a 2 (or possibly 3? who knows) chapter Muggle AU fanfic inspired by tis the damn season and dorothea by taylor swift hehe hope you like it :) You can also read it on AO3 here.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and took a deep breath. It was way too early in the morning, she had just gotten off a long flight where she barely slept a wink, and she just didn’t have it in her to talk to any fans without the coffee she was impatiently waiting for at the LAX Starbucks.

But she turned around anyway, bracing herself, and then saw a face that jolted her so much she supposed she wouldn’t need the coffee anymore. “Harry?”

“Hey, Ginny,” he smiled. Harry Potter was standing in front of her for the first time in almost a year, looking as handsome as ever. He was tired, his green eyes looking glazed behind his glasses, his hair pointing in all directions- though she could tell he didn’t try to comb it- wearing the grey-blue sweater she knew her Mum bought him years ago.

Without really thinking about it, she moved forward and hugged him, throwing her arms around his neck, and he put his around her waist and hugged her back, but he also let go first.

“What are you doing here?” she asked incredulously, trying not to think too hard about him breaking the embrace before she could.

“My students had a tournament against a school out here,” he explained. “We lost though.”

“I’m sorry,” she offered.

“Oh, don’t be, I don’t mind. But the kids all seem like they’re going to jump out of the plane before we can make it home. I was up until 2am consoling the quarterback. My assistant coach is talking them all down now out there while I grab us coffee.”

She nodded, biting her lip. And then blurted out, “Why didn’t you call?” At Harry’s confused look, she added, “to tell me you were in L.A.?”

He cleared his throat, and Ginny saw a light blush creep up his neck. “Well, I knew you were away for your match. I caught some of it, you played great, as always.”

“Oh,” she responded, feeling stupid. She sometimes forgot that as a member of the U.S. Women’s Soccer team her schedule was often public knowledge. She felt a tug at her heart thinking about Harry still supporting her after all this time. “Right, thanks. I wish I could’ve shown you around the city. Did you like it here?”

He shrugged. “Not bad, but big cities aren’t really my style. You know that,” he ended, a solemn note in his voice. “Have you been enjoying it out here?”

She mirrored his shrug. “It’s fine, I suppose. I like the weather, if that counts.”

“Nothing else?”

With most people she’d probably just lie and say she loved it, but with Harry she had a bad habit of always being blunt. “The traffic here is worse than what they warn you about, and honestly, it’s hard to make friends when it seems like everyone just wants to use you for your fame- or for the more famous people that you know.”

“Well, if you’re ever tired of being known for who you know, you know you'll always know me.” Harry offered her a sad smile. “I’m always a call- or a FaceTime- away. Not that a tiny screen is my ideal way of seeing you, but better than nothing.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond right away, as she could feel her whole body burning up and her throat closing. There was so much in the air between them. But the barista called out a cold brew, and at the same time they both said, “oh, that’s me,” then looked at each other and laughed. The first one had Ginny’s name on it, the one that followed five seconds later had Harry’s.

They walked away from the coffee pick-up area together, and Harry checked his watch. “Well, we have to board soon. I’m sorry this is the only way we got to see each other.”

“I’ll be home for Christmas,” Ginny told him in response. She originally didn’t plan on reaching out to him when she got back home, because she knew her brother and Harry’s best friend Ron would just tell him, and if he wanted to see her he could make that decision for himself. But suddenly this became information that she couldn’t hold in.

“Oh,” responded Harry, running his free hand through his hair. Her heart fluttered at that motion, as she knew what it meant- that he was nervous in a good way. “Well, that’s great! Let me know when you plan on getting in, I’d love to catch up, properly.”

“Yeah, me too,” she said, the sincerity spilling out against her will. She never could truly play it cool with him, not even when they were kids. She hugged him again, smelling home lingering on his sweater. “I will. Have a safe flight, Harry.”

His grip on her was tighter this time, even with coffee in hand, than the last. “You too,” he replied. And then stiffened and let go. “I mean, you already had your flight, so that made no sense. Have a safe...cab ride home, I suppose?”

Ginny laughed at his stumbling. “I’ll do my best.”

He smiled, raising a hand in a small wave as he walked back towards his students. “See you later, Gin.”

She returned the smile and watched him reach his students. She noticed one of them looking at her as if they recognized her. She saw him nudge Harry with his elbow before she turned around and began walking to find her cab driver. As she continued to stride forward she faintly heard him ask, “Mr. Potter, was that just… Ginny Weasley? Do you know her?”

***

It was her fault for thinking her brothers would give her some indication that Harry would be there. They knew she still had feelings for him, no matter how much she denied it and how many times she tried to move on, and yet they couldn’t even give her a heads up.

When Fred and George saw her exasperated expression, they rolled their eyes in unison as Fred put his arm around her. “Are you reverting back to your 11-year-old self, little sis?”

“Fuck off,” she said, shrugging out of her brother’s embrace. “You could have at least warned me.”

“I thought you were bold, or whatever,” said George. “Wasn’t that one of the three qualities you used to describe yourself in People Magazine?”

Harry began walking over to them. She mentally prepared herself as he hugged Fred and George and congratulated them on the joke shop’s expansion. As he turned his attention to Ginny, the twins quickly left to talk to other guests. He didn’t smile.

“Hi,” she said nervously. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Hi,” he replied, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his drink. “Ron told me you landed three days ago.”

She gulped, feeling his hurt absorb her. “Well, I just got settled in and recharged, you know. I- I was going to text you.” Which was true; she did intend on keeping her promise to Harry at the airport, but didn’t know when the appropriate time would be- how do you know the right time to text your ex and first love to casually catch up?

He hummed, taking a sip of his beer. She absolutely despised cold Harry, she could feel it emanating off of him. “It’s fine,” he said, ostensibly lying. “I was catching up with some other people from school anyway. Remember Cho?”

Oh, he was cruel, bringing up his ex like that. “Obviously,” she almost spat. As if she could forget.

“Saw her and Neville, Hannah and Luna the other day.”

She had half a mind to mention Dean Thomas, her boyfriend right before Harry in her sophomore year, reaching out to her asking to go for a drink, but couldn’t find it in her to do it, so instead she just mirrored his cool and pretend unbothered tone. “I don’t remember asking, but thanks for the information.”

Harry’s frown became more clearly defined. “Fine, sorry to bother you.”

She felt a chill as he walked away from her, a familiar ache pooling in her abdomen. They were fighting like they were teenagers rather than grown adults. It was unlike him to start it- it was usually her- but she couldn’t really blame him, though. She knew at the end of the day that she was the main culprit, that she made him ache the way she did because she didn’t know how else to hold it on her own.

She watched him return to her brother Ron’s side and take another large sip of his beer. Ron’s wife and one of both Ginny’s and Harry’s closest friends, Hermione Granger, gave Harry an appraising look and then walked over to Ginny. Hermione gave her a short hug and then said, “Alright, which one of you said something stupid this time?”

Ginny scoffed, pulling away from her friend. “Oh, it’s nice to see you too, Hermione.”

“I saw you yesterday. So which one of you started it?”

“Obviously he did! He had the audacity to mention hanging out with Cho Chang to me.”

Hermione gave a look of utter exasperation. “That’s a new low for him.”

“I know!”

“But I’m assuming you replied with equal spite?”

She sputtered, crossing her arms. “Maybe so.”

“Well, you should have texted him, Ginny.”

“He should’ve texted me! ” she whispered sharply.

“But you told him at the airport-”

“No, I know that, but- I mean, he should have texted me after…” she trailed off, feeling ashamed of herself for being this upset. “After your wedding last year.”

“You mean after you two slept together again after my wedding last year.”

“Well, yeah. Once I got back to L.A. at least. But nothing.”

“You could’ve texted him then, as well.”

“Whose side are you on, anyway? I know Harry’s been your best friend forever and everything but I’m your sister-in-law! Doesn’t family by marriage mean anything to you?”

Hermione shook her head and rubbed her temples. “You two really need to sort out your issues on your own. But if it helps to know, he wasn’t really ‘hanging out’ with Cho. We were out with him and the others as well, Cho wasn’t in our group, she just happened to walk in with Michael Corner and they stopped by our table and said hi for a quick minute.”

“She’s dating Michael? My ex-boyfriend Michael?”

“Oh, yeah, they’ll be engaged any day now,” Hermione informed her.

“That lying piece of-”

“You’re both to blame here,” Hermione declared, using her I’m Putting My Foot Down voice. “Just act like adults for once and sort it out. Properly.”

Guilt enveloped her throughout the rest of the night and she hated how such a small exchange could do this to her, as she had to act like everything was okay, be happy for her brothers and talk about her life in L.A. and as a famous soccer player and sell the life she was living as one she was satisfied to have.

By the end of the evening, before he could leave, she found Harry by himself sitting and reading something intently on his phone. She took a deep breath and walked over to him. “Mind if I sit here?”

He looked up for a second, shook his head, and continued staring at his phone. She eased up just a tad, as she could tell his silence wasn’t his I’m Ignoring You silence, but rather his I’m Deep In Thought and Concentration silence. “Everything okay?” She asked, and when he glanced her way she gestured to his phone.

He gave a half-laugh, half sigh, looking back at his screen. “Yeah, it’s just some of these parents have no boundaries… emailing me during the holidays- on a Friday night no less. I’m just reading through them to decide if any of them are worth responding to outside of my automatic away signature.”

“Is this for the football team kids, or your English Literature students?”

“My Lit students, but there is some overlap. I have this one student, Danny, who’s a really great kid, and his parents are real dickheads, and they’re mad that he got a B+ instead of an A, despite me telling them last quarter that a B is a great grade, and Danny’s already self-conscious as it is and could use encouragement rather than nitpicking over bullshit-“

He caught sight of her face and quickly cut himself off, a blush spreading across his cheeks. She realized she was smiling- it was always nice to see Harry talk passionately about something- and quickly adjusted her facial features. He cleared his throat and closed his phone. “They can probably wait until after the holidays for me to repeat myself, I suppose.”

“I think that’s the right call,” she assured him.

He exhaled, running his hands through his hair and then over his face, trying to wipe off his exhaustion with it all. “Thanks.” He put his hands on his lap and looked at her fully, as he refused to do a couple of hours ago. “Ginny, I’m sorry-“

“No, I’m sorry,” she interjected. “I told you I’d let you know when I’d be here and I didn’t. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I let my frustration get the better of me,” he said with a sigh. “Classic Harry for you.”

She laughed, folding her legs into a pretzel in her seat. “Can’t blame you, really, as I’d probably behave the same.” She let out a breath and continued on. “Look, I did mean to text you and tell you I was back. I just… I don’t know, I was stupid, I thought it had to be the right timing, but I guess that doesn’t make much sense.”

“What, were you waiting for a sign or something?” he asked. He was joking when he asked, but as he processed the look on her face he rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Wow, Gin. You never stop amazing me.”

She blushed and laughed nervously, thinking of all the times in the past Harry had said something like that to her. She wanted to hear more of it, over and over, even when he’s saying it in jest. “That is what I do best.”

His features sharpened a bit and he leaned forward. “Well, how’s me asking to see you tomorrow for a sign?”

She put her hand on her chin and pretended to think about it. “A pretty good one, I’d say.”

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 32

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: drunkness, nightmares.

NEXT CHAPTER

    - Sharon? 

There she stood, in all her elegant and precise posture dignified of someone who had been trained to be a spy. Y/N had spoken to Sharon before yet it had been brief so all she knew about her was what she had learned from the media and what Bucky had told her. Yet, Bucky wasn’t one to share much about his life as a Winter Soldier or an Avenger. Despite all this mystery surrounding the woman standing in the kitchen, she trusted her. She was Bucky’s friend and Steve’s girlfriend, a decorated scholar and agent. If she wanted to hurt her the chance was very, very low. Besides, she doubted Bucky would’ve just gone around giving people his address. He doesn’t even tell anyone but the barista his coffee order, not that it is too hard to guess.

    - Bucky asked me to look after you while he’s gone. - she said before Y/N could even question her. - He said you’d feel more comfortable with a woman watching over you.

    - He really left, uh? - Y/N knew he had left, after all his dog tags were hanging from her closed fist, but her more optimistic self, the more happy look which wanted to believe he was gonna be told this was mistake and he could return to the normal life he had paid by with blood, sweat and tears.

    - Do you wanna go for breakfast? There’s a nice spot just a few blocks away from here. - she tried to distract her, kind smile forming. - I always thought you and me should get to know each other. You know, Steve and Bucky are like brothers so we’ll see each other a lot. 

     - Yeah, I hum ... I just need to get dressed. - Y/N wanted to be her happy, cheery self and she knew Sharon was only trying to make her feel better but all she could think about was Bucky and if he was safe.

She knew she was no super soldier, no super spy, not a witch or an agent but she just wanted to help him. She was already helpless in her own life, merely following along as others guided her, too afraid to step too much out of line in fear of losing what she had worked for. After all, many people wanted what she had, many people wanted a contract with a household agency thus she had to be compliant. She had to step on the breaks before she even turned the key. However, if there was something she had agency on it was her relationships and she wanted to help him. God, she wished to never see that look, the look he gave her that morning after that call. It was pure sorrow mixed with anger and she wondered how long he’d felt that way. She wondered if anyone had tried to help him rather than weaponise him. It was not her choice to decide what Bucky wanted to do with his life, it was not her right to demand him explain her demons to her but it was her choice and her pleasure to be by his side and right now she wanted to be by his side. Even if her mother had raised her not to rely on a man. It wasn’t relying on him, it wasn’t being only completed when a man was around, it wasn’t her feeling incomplete whenever he was around. No. It was none of that. It was merely wanting to hold the hand of someone who had for the longest time not had anyone to hold his hand. It was loving someone so much, she’d be okay with holding his burden with him even if he didn’t want to. It was merely loving someone, darkness and light, and she loved him. 

Her hands gripped the sink of the bathroom, eyes gazing onto the mirror in front of her and as such her own face. She watched every line, every corner, contour and shadow of her face, the dog tags softly dangling around from her neck, the only part of him she had near her. Y/N splashed cold water against her face, trying to let her own optimism flow into what was now a negative outcome. She stepped outside of the bedroom, a soft smile drawn on her features.

   - Should we go? - Sharon suggested, grabbing her coat which was laying over the couch. - It will make you feel better, Y/N. 

   - Yeah, I’m just ...

   - He’s one of the best operatives in the field. - Sharon interrupted her. - He will be fine, I promise you. 

   - You can’t promise me that. - she said as she took her own jacket from the hooks on the wall.

   -  I’ve seen him fight before, Y/N. I’ve been where you are, it’s shit but ... you gotta trust someone who’s strong enough to carelessly break a brick, will be fine. 

Sharon meant well, she knew she did and she was glad she was there but Y/N felt nothing but completely numb to what was happening around her. It seems as he had left with her heart and now she was longing his and hers didn’t get broken in the middle of HYDRA’s crossfire. She didn’t know much about HYDRA or even the Winter Soldier, her parents had shielded her and her siblings from the bad of the world and while she had seen Washington in the TV and remembered when Captain America had been regarded as a traitor, she had never been explained much about HYDRA and all that was out in the internet was glossed over with a paint coat of big, bad monster. Funny how big, bad monsters don’t look like monsters at all. She’d not even been in the country when the first modern Winter Soldier attacks had occurred and she was younger, much more naive. What she could remember was circled with rumours of politicians then blaming every single event on the soldier, turning him into a folklore-like creature but he was not folklore, he really existed. Conscious or not conscious, he existed. She didn’t know how Bucky felt about it, he’d never tell her but what she knew was that he drew a line between who he had been and who he was now, and he hated to cross that line.

The harsh sound of the coffee steamer from the coffee machine took her from her own head. The coffee shop itself was mostly empty, highly due to it being later in the morning and all she wanted to do was return to her bedroom and stay there until she had to go for her photoshoot. However, the waitress was already taking their orders which meant she had to at least stay here until the two of them had eaten whatever Sharon had prepared. 

   - How do you do it? - Y/N blurted out, clearly losing any control over her mind to mouth filter. - The missions ... I mean, Steve must be going on them all the time. 

   - Well, whenever I don’t go ... it’s hell. - she smiled tightly. - One thing is going on a mission yourself, the other one is someone who you love going. And for what? Crocked politicians? 

   - I get a feeling you’re not a big fan of the government. 

   - You’d be right. So, what’s the schedule for today? Bucky didn’t really explain what your job entails.

   - There’s a photoshoot today at 3, then it’s free days until Monday where I have to go on set to film the last scenes. 

    - Photoshoot? Sounds fun. 

    - The Virgin Bride for Vogue.

    - Oh ... - she agent scrunched up her face. - Not so fun.

    - They’re doing an issue on the types of brides. You know ... because type casting not only occurs in Hollywood, it occurs in life too. You got your bridezellas, your over 30 brides, your rebel brides and the virgin bride. Being the virgin bride does fit with the image they want for me. 

     - I never really understood type casting, if I’m being honest. You know, the rat, brit, brat pack. Never really made sense.

     - It’s a marketing strategy. It is easier to market someone as a type rather than a complex person.

She liked photoshoots, she mostly got to dress up and get photographed almost like a big makeover like in those 90s movies she still curled up against her comforter to see. This particular one did make her upset, to be in a white wedding dress, surrounded by soft white fabric was particularly cruel. She knew her wedding was not going to be what she dreamed of a kid and unless she wanted to get her agency or the government in the business, the two of them would’ve had to get married in the civil hall. However, it did not matter to her where she got married, it mattered that the person she wasn’t engaged to was not here. It was almost like being dressed as a left at the altar bride ... like a widow. 

She unpinned the veil from her hair, taking off all the heavy jewellery that had been used to adorn her hair and put it on top of the desk where all the makeup was still open. The dress was pretty but it was big, it was too big, it almost swallowed her, it made her feel small but it reminded of him. She wondered where he was, what he was doing, how he was feeling, if he was safe.

    - That was boring. - Sharon said as she stepped inside the dressing room, holding two coffee cups. - I know that look. What’s wrong?

    - I hate this dress. - Y/N sat down in the chair. - It’s too big.

    - You look like a wedding cake.

    - Right. - Y/N moved the fabric up playfully. - I don’t think I can even move correctly. 

    - You should be thinking about your own soon. - Y/N gave Sharon a confused look. - Steve told me. Don’t tell Bucky, he’ll get upset and then Steve will be upset, big mess.

    - Well, it’s good to be able to speak to someone about it. - she smiled. Only Bucky and her parents knew, so she did not have many people to tell she was engaged to or to even speak about it. 

    - So, how do you envision your wedding dress?

    - Oh, I don’t ... I don’t really think about it. It’s most likely gonna be in city hall so it’s not worth it.

    - What? That’s bullshit. Everyone wears a dress. 

    - I can’t really go anywhere ... the paps would go crazy and that’s the last thing I need.

    - Still, everyone wears a dress even if they go to city hall.

Y/N merely shrugged. Her head was not in the right space and for the first time she was looking forward to go to set. It didn’t matter if being on set was dehumanising sometimes, it mattered that her head would’ve been somewhere else. She knew that as a perfectionist, her mind would be on finishing those scenes and not on Bucky. As she got home, she couldn’t help but get lost inside her mind again as Sharon put some old sitcom on the TV. She was surrounded by him, by memories of him, things that reminded her of him. Looking to her left there were framed photos of him, his jacket was still hanging from the door, the broken shards of porcelain were still on the sink. There were pieces of him everywhere and half of her felt ridiculous it was affecting her so much as it was but she loved him. She loved him.

    - Right, get your jacket. - Sharon got up from the couch.

    - Why? Where are we going?

    - You will see.

Y/N followed Sharon through the half lit Brooklyn night down to the back of several shops. The lights flickered, illuminating the bins filled with black plastic bags which laid in the back fronts of several shops. She watched as Sharon made her way towards a particular store back, taking a key from under a seemingly unseeingly rock which opened the heavy pad lock keeping the door shut. Sharon motioned her head towards the door and Y/N followed her into the dark shop. The agent closed the door behind them before she turned the lights. The bright white lights illuminated the shop floors and she noticed she was surrounded by hundreds of glass see through closets with various white dresses. Was she in a bridal shop?

    - You need to take your mind out of him. - Sharon sat against one of the pale pastel pink couches laid around the store. 

    - Is this legal?

    - You’re engaged to Bucky Barnes, how come you care about legality so much? 

    - I don’t want to get arrested, Sharon.

    - It’s one of my friends bridal store. You said you couldn’t do it without paps walking around and photographing you, so ... here you go.

    - I ... I don’t ... What if he doesn’t come back? - Y/N’s lip trembled as she crossed her arms and looked to the side.

    - Y/N, he will come back. It is one man against a soldier with the strength of five. Trust me, if not for anything else, he’ll come back to you. Now, dress, what dress do you want?

    - I don’t know. 

    - Come on. Pick one and try it on. We are not going home until you try a dress on.

    - Fine.

Y/N stared at the dresses, grabbing the first one she could find in her own size and dragging it onto the dressing room. It definitely was not her type of dress, at least not the type of dress she had envisioned getting married in. It was pure white, sleeveless with a cut which went down to her sternum, skin tight, hugging her body in a flattering way but it just wasn’t her dress. It wasn’t the dress she wanted to get married in, but right now it wasn’t the time to think about what dress to wear when Bucky was out. She shouldn’t be playing dress up. 

She waddled back to where Sharon was sat before she stopped in front of her, hands on her hips. Somehow, she had found some prosecco and plastic flutes and had her feet on top of the pale pink couch. 

   - Are you happy now? - Y/N sighed, mostly out off nuissance. 

   - Don’t give me that tone. - Sharon sipped from her own flute, handing Y/N the other one. - Come on, what do you think?

   - It’s ... uhm ... fine. - her hands gestured around the fabric.

   - What? That’s the first one you try. Why aren’t you crying? It isn’t the one if you’re not crying. That’s what they do in the movies.

   - I can cry.

   - No, spin. - Sharon waved her finger around and Y/N spun around slowly. - It ain’t it.

   - But Bucky ...

   - From now on every time you say the words James, Bucky, Buchanan, or Barnes, you’re drinking. 

   - But I don’t know if Bucky ...

   - Drink. - Sharon interrupted her. Y/N scrunched her face not really believing her but she looked dead serious. She took a sip of her prosecco, placing the flute on the table near her. - Come on, what does your wedding dress look like.

   - I don’t know ... I don’t want something skin tight, I want some floofy fabric.

   - Yeah, go on.

   - And I don’t want it to be too long, I want my shoes to show ... like Audrey Hepburn in Funny Face.

   - Let’s find it. 

Both she and Sharon went through tons and tons of dresses, through so much lace she was sure to dream about it for the next week until they found something that resembled what she wanted. Y/N ended up rather dizzy on the prosecco, not used to drinking too much, running around barefoot with the dress that was her dress in a rather subdued white which showed her legs from the ankle down, a voluminous little shirt which cinched at her waist. A rather short veil fell from her head, pinned to the crown of her head with a fake baby pink rose prong clip. The two ended up laying on the pink couch, heads leaning against the rather comfortable pillows as they nursed the rest of the bottle of prosecco.

   - Okay but I have a question ... - Y/N said, bringing her flute down. - Is it weird dating the same guy who kissed your great aunt?

   - Listen, Steve is a kissing whore. - she tried to say it with a straight face but ended up breaking into laughter. - It’s true. He’ll kiss anyone, unstoppable. The blonde girl from the army, my great aunt, Natasha. If it hadn’t been for me, Steve would be Captain Kisscam instead of Captain America. 

   - Captain Kisscam. What superpowers would he have? 

   - Making people kiss each other? No that sounds terrible. I don’t know ... to be honest what even is Steve’s superpower?

   - Ultimate ... - Y/N broke down laughing before she could continue. She put her hand in front of her chest, taking a deep breathe as she tried not to laugh at the joke in her head. - Ultimate frisbee.

   - You know? Sex on top of the shield? Terrible, so uncomfortable.

   - Sharon!

   - What? I was curious, it is a weirdly unbreakable shield, isn’t it? Besides, that’s not even the craziest thing we’ve done.

    - What’s the craziest thing you’ve done?

    - We did it at the Smithsonian.

    - SHARON! There’s children there. It’s ... a hall of science, and ... memorabilia ... and ... I don’t know, I’ve never been to the Smithsonian.

    - Oh, c’mon. What’s the craziest place where you and Bucky have done it?

    - You said Bucky, drink. - Y/N pointed her flute at Sharon.

    - So did you. Drink. - the two girls drank what was left over in the glasses, throwing them to the side. - Come on. Tell me.

    - I don’t know ... What are we counting as doing it?

    - 3rd base.

    - I do not understand bases. 

    - Handjobs don’t count. 

    - Oh ... then ... the parking lot of the set in his car. 

    - And the car didn’t break?

    - Come on, it’s not that old of a car.

    - It’s ancient, Y/N. - Sharon chuckled, passively looking at her watch to check on the time. - We should get going before the shop opens.

She went back into the dressing room to take off her wedding dress. It wasn’t until then she realised she was still wearing his dog tags, the cold metal against her warm skin, a side effect of the alcohol coursing through her veins. She was reminded of him again on that moment, wondered how he was doing, how he was feeling. She hoped and begged he was okay in her mind, and the memory of him haunted her mind even as she laid down in bed to go to sleep. There was a direct line from wedding gowns and dog tags to her fiance and wherever he was. Her blood distracted by the unhinging of the alcohol coursing along it, was filled with hate. Not for him but for his situation, for how helpless she was to helping him. 

She turned around in her bed, forcefully shutting her eyes as a way to ensure she went to sleep instead of dwelling on those thoughts. However, she simply didn’t have a choice to leave. As her consciousness dissolved into unconscious she woke up in the same bedroom but the environment was blurry, very highly saturated yet the colours were candy bright. However, the environment wasn’t inviting at all and soon broken through the candy bright atmosphere she could hear screaming. She tried to untangle herself from her sheets, running through the bedroom yet her movements were slow and her running was more like a slow motion run. She pushed open the door, coming face to face with the same candy coloured blurred bright world but in front of her was him but not him as she knew him. Not at least as she had known him. His hair was much longer, slightly past his jaw which was covered by a mask, a muffle. His clothing was restricting, the top almost resembling a straightjacket, as if he was dangerous. He was so close but so far away, on his knees with someone whose face was blurrier than the atmosphere itself.

   -  Don’t worry. - the blurred person’s voice was as distorted as the vision, mechanical even as he rose a gun up to the head of a Bucky Barnes she had never met. - We will help you.

   - NO! - she lunged forward as the gunshot echoed through her ears and like a rubber band she was pushed back to reality. She rose her torso from her bed in pure agony, eyes wide open and red, hand holding the sheet against her chest which rose up and down in fast paces.

Looking around, nothing was candy coloured and everything was clear. The room was dark in muddled shades barely lit by the moon light peaking from the small rips in the curtains Bucky had first gotten when he first moved in. Everything was as it was, his sleeping shorts were still hanging from the chair next to the dresser, the dead flowers were still in the vase he had once put them when they were fresh. Everything was as it was, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was lurking. The feeling that both of them had just crossed the bridge past the point of no return. 

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